The weedy little pegasus kid next to me was still shaking... But I could hardly blame him.
Our packets had included luxurious economy tickets to Appleoosa. We'd boarded a train a few hours ago. He'd barely said two words to me in all that time.
Finally I broke the ice, "You know, I'm sure she's not that crazy... I mean she has to pay taxes."
"Do we even want to know what happened to the last recovery agents...?" He whimpered.
I rolled my eyes. "Kid, seriously, if you're this jumpy with middle management, why the heck did you decide to become a bounty hunter?"
He sighed. "There aren't a lot of jobs out there for you when 'OCD kid expelled from guard training' is on your resume."
Well that was quite a bit of sharing. I raised an eyebrow. "You... Don't strike me as OCD."
He looked down. "That's because you don't know my trigger."
I bit my lip. This was getting pretty heavy and I was going to have to work with this kid. I tried a gentler approach. "If it makes you feel any better, there aren't a lot of jobs out there for 18 hand tall battle scarred trans ponies with bad work records either."
He tilted his head. "Is that why the police fired you? For being trans?" To his credit he sounded a little angry.
I chuckled. "Hay no, I got fired for being trans and disorganized."
He blinked. "Huh?"
I shrugged. "The department was all gung ho about me transitioning, if anything they were happy for the PR boost and the folks on the ground didn't care so long as I stayed scary, but... Do you know what happens when you miss a hormone dose?"
He shook his head. "Not really, no."
I looked down. "Contrary to the name, sex hormones aren't just for sex, you need them for basic brain function. I had an orchi a while back so I don't produce any testosterone of my own, thank Celestia, but that means that if I go off estrogen I'm pretty useless. I missed a couple of doses in the rush to work and..." I gestured to our surroundings. "It's kind of hard for anyone to want to keep you on when you're having hot flashes and keep falling asleep at your desk."
He put a hoof on my shoulder, it was adorable. "That's horrible! How could they do something like that!"
I groaned. "Kid, I'm not looking for sympathy. If anything I should have been kicked out sooner. If I couldn't keep myself organized enough to stay on meds consistently then I had the potential to be a danger in the field... And if another officer got shot on my watch I don't know if I'd be able to live with myself."
He clearly had no idea what to say to that. He put his hoof down and looked away. Yeah, this relationship was going to be nothing but smiles.
It was time for a change of subject. I held up the packet from crazy cat lady. "Why don't we go over this target?"
He nodded. I spread out the paperwork on the table (apparently what 'luxury' passed for on trains these days). It was some tax evader who was trying to skip town.
His criminal record consisted of speeding tickets and one old charge of attempted bribery. Apparently Golden had heard a rumor he was hiding out in Appleoosa so off we went.
Spear nodded. "Looks like a pretty easy capture."
I moaned. "Kid, no one is an easy capture. For all we know he's hired muscle or bought weapons." I turned to him. "Speaking of which we should talk about field load out. What are you packing?"
He pointed to his long duffel. "I'm a Quarter Staff wielder."
I blinked. "Seriously?"
He crossed his forelegs. "Hey, I couldn't bring a spear so I went for a less-lethal option, plus I know a trick or two to make it effective. I also brought hoofcuffs and zipties if we need to physically restrain someone. What are you packing Dirty Hoofy?"
I looked down at my flank and smiled at the massive explosion. He blanched.
"It's not as crazy as it looks. Have you ever heard of a personal firearm?"
His eyes went wide. "They were talking about using them in basic, but I thought the tech was still too young to be safe."
I leaned back. "That's because they didn't have my brains or my magic hooves." I tapped my duffel. "To answer your question, I'm packing a bean bag firing Street Special Hand Cannon, patent pending."
He raised an eyebrow. "You... You figured out gun miniaturization? Why the hay aren't you filthy stinking rich?"
I'd met a Filthy "stinking" Rich at one point and I considered a snarky reply, but... I figured the subject matter was serious enough I should hold back.
I eyed the rookie. "What do you think would happen if I started selling these? You think the guard would stick to bean bags?"
He opened his mouth, ready to explain, but... Then it hit him. He bit his lip.
I nodded. "That's what I thought. I know they'll sort out the details of gun miniaturization eventually, but I don't want the pile of bodies on my conscience when they do." I shrugged. "The only reason I patented my design was so no one else could make it legally."
He nodded... "That makes... Some sense. But ponies will get around that eventually. Why not just not make the thing at all, or hide it?"
I sighed. This was going to be a long, long trip. "Look... I wasn't always the most perfectly adjusted pony, nor the brightest. I guess I was just proud of what I made and wanted to show it off. Of course it was only after I'd shown it around a bit and heard what others were planning that I realized how deep in the shit I'd gotten and decided to backpedal."
He winced. "Ouch... Geez I'm-"
I cut him off. "Like I said, I'm not looking for sympathy, just answering questions."
There was an extended moment of silence. We just sort of stared at the floor.
Finally I sighed. "Do you think this train serves alcohol?"