The Stars Beyond The Veil

by Charlemane


16 - Leads

Chapter 16

Leads

My Dearest Silverbelle,
I expect the news of our failure has reached the Outer Colonies. What they say is true. All of it. The recovery effort has been a disaster. Not one of all the magi and scholars we have hired over these past nine years have been able to recreate the spells needed to move the sun and moon. We failed. We tried everything: telekinesis, science, higher magics, even brute force, but we cannot move them. They refuse to be commanded. Our only hope was that the S.T.A.R.S. would find the princesses. But, you know how well that endeavor went.
Equestria is doomed. Forever. Wherever the Princesses have gone, I suspect they will not return. Our homeworld will die. Even now, the oceans boil and what land remains lies frozen on the planet’s dark side. Only the twilight zone is still habitable. And that's still over the damned ocean.
Tomorrow begins the new year. They will make the official announcement soon after. I am so, so sorry, my love. Tomorrow, I will attend a hearing. After that, I will face the consequences of my failure. Take care of our children, and do not wait for me at the station. I will not be coming home. Goodbye.

In Love and Death,
Gleaming Shield

- 3345 E.C. Letter written to Clarity Silverbelle, shortly after the collapse of the S.T.A.R.S. program.

In the following days, Equestria Prime was permanently abandoned.

The pilot’s cabin was silent as I waited, hoping that my conversation request would go through. It wasn’t the first time I had tried this. Darkly, I reasoned that it probably wouldn’t be the last, either. After what felt like hours waiting patiently in the semi-dark, my feed finally lit up with a response.

<<Do you have any idea what time it is?

We were nearly back to Winter’s Edge, maybe a jump or two away, by the time we had finally finished repairing the comm suite to the point where we could send messages along the M-net again. After personally surveying the damage to the antennas, I was doubtful that we would could even send Horse code much less readable data, but, miracle worker that she is, Tickintime somehow managed to pull through for us. The hack job she managed wasn’t pretty, but according to her it would at least serve us until we could get into a drydock. The resulting data pipeline was small, too small to get the holo projector working again, much to Jess’ disappointment. She would have to wait until we could dock again before she could catch up on her favorite shows. Provided we didn’t send any other information, however, the connection was strong enough to get a few messages out, even if they were only in text form.

>>N)t R34l1y, and I’m $0rry if it’s a li##le early for *!u, Fri7ter, but I wamted to u9d@te you on our lit7le tr1p#.

Unfortunately, everything I sent with my WAND was less than legible. It tried to send the right characters, it honestly tried. I counted it as a blessing and a credit that it actually survived the blast from the battleship’s engine core. Jess’ WAND certainly didn’t. I was lucky, and I knew it. I also doubted that it would survive another event like that one. Thankfully, I didn’t need a completely functioning WAND to fly the ship. The trip back to Winter’s Edge was spent working, with all of us doing whatever ad-hoc patchwork we could apply to the ship while underway. Tickintime directed the repairs, focusing first on the support systems to the Sparkle Drive, and then starting immediately on the comm suite, but I told you about that already.

<<You know it might be best if you did that in person. Did your WAND get damaged or something? Your data stream is looking a little corrupted.

I made a mental note to go find a specialist once this was all over.

>>Y*u c0uld 5ay th@. W##e about _wo, naybe thr3e hours out, plus ber7#ing time. Think you’!1 be rested en0ugh to me3t with me tH_n?

It took a minute or two for the reply. I figured that he was spending time to decode the gibberish. When I finally got it, I laughed.

<<BLAZING SUN TITS, DUDE! IT’S TWO IN THE FUCKIN MORNING. NO! I am NOT getting in fuckin two hours for a meeting. Swing by my stand at eight. And before you ask, yes, I do have some updates for you. Quite a few, actually, but we’ll talk later, I need my damn sleep.

>>Right, I’ll sw1inG by later. 5orry to wa_e you.

I disconnected my WAND from the computer, laughing softly to myself about my little faux pas. Of course it was early morning for him. Sometime in the rush I must have lost track of time. I leaned over to check the status of the Sparkle drive on the console board. Sixty-seven percent to next jump. Groaning, I leaned back in the pilot’s chair and slumped.

“Bleh,” I muttered.

Waiting sucks.

I got out of the pilot chair to go help with more repairs.


Two hours became four. Halfway through a safety check, one of the power regulators to the Sparkle Drive shorted out and we lost precious time trying to find a replacement. Thankfully Tick was able to jury rig something using parts from the drone control board, but that meant the drones would be offline permanently, or at least, until we could afford to replace it. That hassle out of the way, the remaining trip to Winter’s Edge was quiet. We finished what repairs we could, and then spent the rest of the time waiting, some of us catching up on some much needed rest while the rest of us took the watch. Nightshade contented himself to continue working on the comm suite, while Jess and Tick slept. I sat in the hot seat, enjoying the solitude of the pilot’s cabin as we wound up for our final jump. Determined not to be rude, I decided to give the two girls a warning.

“Rise and shine, ladies, we’re almost home,” I said over the S-Band. Two groans replied, followed by one distinct smacking of lips.

“Ugh, bout time, I don’t think I could stand stewing in this suit much longer,” Tick said. “The first thing I’m doing when we get back is taking a long, hot shower.”

“Amen to that,” Jess added groggily. She yawned. “I wonder if this station has any of those public spas the Rim is famous for. I could go for a nice dip, right about now.”

“Oooh, that sounds nice,” Tick said with a fervent shiver. “Tell you what, if they’ve got spas, we’re both going for hot tubs and hooficures. My treat.”

“Eeee!” Jess squealed, “I haven’t had a hooficure in ages! Oh, Celestia, I bet they look awful!”

A blinking light announced the cycle on the Sparkle Drive was done. Smiling, I started the charger and waited, watching the gauge charge for the final time. “I hate to interrupt your planning, but I’d start bracing if I were you. Cleaning the inside of your helmet isn’t a fate I’d wish on anypony.”

“And now I’m thinking of puking in my helmet. Thanks for the buzz kill, Horizon,” Jess said.

“You’re welcome,” I replied while glancing back down at the control board. My indicator was green. Good to go. “Here we go.” With little hesitation, I hit the button. The ship rumbled, flared, and we were suddenly elsewhere.

***

Elsewhere, and several kilometers off-grid. In the far distance I could see the mass of Winter’s Edge looming in my viewport and the occasional sparkle of ships jumping in. Grumbling to myself, I put us in a slow trundle toward the station. Within a few minutes, my WAND chirped in my ear, alerting me to an incoming communications ping from the tower. Groaning, I opened up the requested line on the C-Band.

“Hello, tower,” I said, my voice even and already sick of their shit.

“Nice aim, dude,” the tower replied. I wasn't sure if the grinding of my teeth carried over the microphone.

It took real composure to bite back my retort. I was not about to let them get under my skin, or for that matter, risk getting banned from the only real safe haven that would take us in on short notice. Biting my lip until I could regain myself, I settled for, “Thanks, tower.” and left it at that. “Scrap Bandit requesting emergency docking clearance. We took some damage out there and lost atmosphere.”

“One second, Scrap Ba- wait a sec… I know you!” The buck at the tower suddenly shouted.

I winced as the speakers screeched into my ears, partially offsetting my budding confusion with a lovely headache. Ow.

“You’re that one dude! Hang on a sec!”

The line must have been left on. I heard the scrape of a metal chair against the floor and the telltale plodding of hoofs on deck as the controller went who knows where. Distantly, I heard him shout, “Hey Glaze! Get Fortune off his break!”

I heard some sort of reply, but it was too distant to make out. I was more preoccupied with figuring out just what the hell was going on, anyway.

“Yeah, I know he’s gonna be pissed, just do it! And get him over here!” The buck said.

A pause. Another distant reply.

“What do you mean, ‘why?’ Just tell him that that one buck is back!” A series of rapid hoofbeats grew louder as the speaker finally returned to his post. The scrape of a chair and a slightly heavier than normal plop later announced his arrival.

“Heh, sorry about that, Scrap Bandit.” The tower buck finally said.

“I don’t need more docking instructions, if that’s what you’re planning,” I said, remembering our last encounter, “once is enough for my lifetime.”

The pony laughed hard and loud. When he finally calmed down he said, “No, no, man, it’s cool. We were just fuckin with ya that time. Hang on a sec while I get you cleared.”

Over the mic I heard more hoofbeats. “Alright Spit, what the fuck is going on here that you gotta… holee~shit! Scan him! Scan him!

Suppressing another snicker, the tower buck called Spit said, “Scrap Bandit, stand by while we verify the damage to your vessel.”

A few seconds later, I felt a tingling, warming sensation wash over my body. It passed as quickly as it came.

“I called it! I fucking called it!” Fortune suddenly shouted with a laugh. Then, distantly, I heard him yell, “Hey Glaze! You owe me ten bits!”

The statement bounced around in my head for a few moments. Wait... what?

“Uh… tower?” I asked as a frown slowly crept onto my face, “what’s going on up there?”

“Oh, nothing, just settling a little wager,” the Tower pony number one, I think his name was Spits, replied. “The boys and I here had a little bet going that the next time we saw you, all that was left of your ship would be your ass strapped to a sparkle drive,” Spits laughed. “With bets on the damage, of course. Anyway! You’re cleared! Head to Hangar one, dock seven. There should be a good drydock there that you can use. Also, take your time! Our shifts are almost over.”

“Um… thanks? Scrap Bandit out.” I closed the line feeling awkward and vaguely offended.

Well that was weird, I thought, sitting quietly for a moment as I tried to figure out just what the hay had happened. Shrugging, I put a little extra power into the thrusters and got us on our way.

Really, really weird.


With permissions out of the way, I did as the tower pony asked and took my time flying us into the hangar. Even this early in the morning, the docking traffic was still just as psychotic as the first time, but at least this time around I didn’t generate any angry pings from other pilots. That, or the telemetry was too busted to receive them. I’m not sure which was preferable. Once we were out of the crush of traffic, I brought us into dock seven as I was told.

Dock seven was a beauty. Between the pristine lines of very expensive looking yachts, and a main platform absolutely decked in trees, I wondered if I was looking more at some kind of weird resort than an actual docking area. Why the tower had sent me here was anyone's guess, but I wasn't about to complain. Space was plentiful, far more so than in the hangar I had used before, and what few ships were docked in the same area spoke of money. I chuckled a little knowing that my shitty little barge would be pulling up a seat next to them.

"Damn, and I thought the docks on L6-C looked nice," Nightshade said, looking out the viewport as I made the final adjustments for our approach.

He had a bit of a point. Priority docks were nice, but this was damn near the VIP treatment. What gives? Should I care? I decided to withhold my opinion till later.

"As long as they don't charge by the hour, I'm fine with it," I said as I lined up with the docking clamps. It was then, that motion from the platform caught my attention. Three ponies stood on the platform below us, waving to get my attention. Or at least I thought they wanted my attention, it was difficult to tell at that distance. One thing was certain. I didn't know any of them.

“Friends of yours?” Nightshade asked as he leaned closer to viewport to get a better look.

“I don’t know,” I replied truthfully. “They seem happy to see us, though. That’s good, right?”

Nightshade frowned. “Maybe,” he said.

“You don’t like them?”

Nightshade shrugged. “Well... it's not a 'bad' feeling exactly, but my talent is telling me that you’re about to feel really awkward. So... have fun with that.” Nightshade waltzed out of the cabin, the door closing behind him.

“Huh…” I muttered. Well, if Nightshade wasn’t concerned about it, then I wasn’t either. Shrugging it off, I made one final adjustment to the ship’s alignment and then killed the thrusters. Silently, docking clamps did the rest. One rumble later, and we were berthed.

With a sigh, I unbuckled from my seat and stretched, feeling the bones in my wings pop before I settled back into place. With a last look back at the control board, I put the ship into standby power, and moved to join the others in the airlock.

“Hurry up, Horizon! I wanna hit the spa!” Tick called, bouncing on her hooves and practically vibrating in place while she held open the airlock door open for me. Smirking, I picked up the pace and squeezed in. With all four of us inside, it was a cozy fit.

Jess was the closest to the button this time, and she did the honors with gusto. The air cycled, and filled the chamber as the pressure normalized between the airlock and the outside world. I hit the release on my helmet halfway through the process and peeled it off manually, several locks of my mane falling into my face before I shook it out and took a deep breath of clean air. Well, cleaner, to be honest, it smelled just as bad as the first time. The hatch released. Nightshade swung it open and we all stepped outside.

As we touched down on the platform, we were approached by the three earth ponies who had been waiting for us with big smiles on their faces. They all wore the same uniform, matte grey with somewhat brownish hues and some emblem I didn’t recognize patched in on the left shoulder. All three of them looked at our little group with more than just a little enthusiasm.

“Can I help you?” I asked, feeling slightly unnerved.

“Are you Horizon Seldat?” One pony asked. Part of me shivered. Nothing good ever came from ponies who ask for you by name. The speaker was a light blue buck with a white mane and a compass for a cutie mark. I recognized his voice as the first buck from the tower. I think his name was Spit? Spits? Whatever.

I glanced at Nightshade, who merely shrugged and walked past me with a parting, “all yours.”

I frowned as he left, and turned back to the three bucks. “I am,” I responded warily.

“I knew it!” one of the bucks beside Spits suddenly cheered. He was a pale yellow, with a cream mane and some kind of weird coin for a cutie mark. I recognized his voice as the pony named ‘Fortune’. “I fucking knew it! Dude! It’s that guy! Same guy!”

“We can’t be sure, Fortune, come on,” the third said. He was a white and brown piebald with a pastel green mane.

“No, dude, I swear it’s totally him!” Fortune said, pointing a hoof in my direction.

“Have fun, Horizon,” Jess chuckled as she and Tick also walked off, leaving me by myself to fend off the three ponies excitedly chatting among themselves.

“Okay, just what the fuck is going on here?” I asked. My statement caught the attention of the three, who snapped to attention. Well, maybe not snapped, it was more of a sudden jolt as all three of them suddenly stood up a little straighter.

The one named Spits, smiled. “Sorry, it just feels a little unreal, meeting you,” he laughed, “My name is Spitshine, and this is Fortune, and Glaze.” He gestured to the others in turn, who simply nodded. “We’ve just got a quick question for ya, are you the same pony who got hauled out of here by that one cop chick about a couple weeks ago?”

My eye twitched. “Maybe…” I replied, grimacing. This was not going in the direction I was hoping for.

Spits’ smile grew wider, “Awesome! Dude, okay, so, this is gonna sound weird, but...” The pony started fishing through his uniform pockets with the WAND on his head. What came out was an old fashioned pad of paper and a ballpoint pen. “Can we have your autograph?”

Wait. What? What the fuck? Seriously, what the fuck?

My brain overloaded. Neurons ground to a halt as I desperately fished for something, anything, that I could say that would help me comprehend the words I had just heard. The fight was brief, bloody, and pointless. For the first time in as long as I could remember, I was utterly speechless.

“Are you insane?” I finally managed. Spitshine turned red in the face.

The pony named Glaze started laughing. Fortune joined him, he didn’t laugh so much as howl, and loud enough to draw the irritated glare of some rich snob passing by.

Spits composed himself. “Yeah, maybe just a little. But, can we still get your autograph?” He offered the pen and paper again, giving it a little wiggle with his WAND for emphasis.

He was serious. He was totally serious.

“You’re totally serious,” I said, gobsmacked.

The three nodded in unison.

“Well, okay… I guess,” I said. Gingerly, I took the pen in my mouth and signed the paper. Once I finished, Spits floated his things back and stowed them into his pockets with a satisfied smile like he had just gotten away with something.

“Alright… so, uh, what the fuck is going on?” I asked.

“You mean you don’t know?” Fortune said, mouth agape in a half laugh.

I raised an eyebrow. Obviously.

“Dude, you’re like, a fucking legend!” Spits said.

I blinked twice. “Bullshit,” I replied.

Glaze squeezed his way in between them. “Look man, I know these guys are weird, but hear us out. We heard some of the gossip from the cargo ship incident last month.”

Oh. That. I felt the corners of my mouth tighten.

The white buck continued, “The military guys just wouldn’t stop fuckin talking about it. And once we heard the story, I just had to do a little more research. So I pulled the reports, and Fortune here also came across your name on the news report about the train attack over in the Core.”

And that. I had been wondering how far news of that had gone. Clearly, farther than I’d hoped.

“Look, man, all we wanna know is this. How the fuck did you do it? I mean, we read the reports from the ship that picked you up and we’ve been trying to figure it out ever since.”

“The rumors we’ve heard have been wild,” Fortune added with a laugh, “So we gotta know, how the fuck did you take down two EPLA cruisers with an unarmed scrap barge?”

I stared. I closed my mouth with an audible click. That’s what this was about? Of course, when they put it that way, it did sound a little impressive, and impossible. Two combat ships versus a hauler? I mean, come on! I took a moment to process before I started making corrections.

“Okay, first off, it was only one cruiser, and second, it’s kind of a long story.”

“Drinks on us?” Spits offered with a smile.

For one dumbfounded moment, I smiled back.

You know, I could get used to this.

I spent the rest of the morning regaling the three about what I’d seen so far.

***

It was really too early to be this drunk. I strolled into the food court where Fritter kept his stand a little more tipsy than I would have liked, but the ciders were free and the audience was more than happy to hear my side of the story. When I left, we parted as friends, sort of. Ish? I don’t know, do spur-of-the-moment drinking buddies count as friends? I think that enters the territory of friendship maths that I'm really not prepared for. Either way, the whole thing felt weird, as was the slow realization that struck me on the way back:

I had fans.

I had actual, honest to goodness fans, and you know? It felt really... awkward. Yet, it still made me smile, and as weird and strange as the whole thing felt, I was still smiling by the time I finally pulled up a chair at Fritter’s stand. The cider probably helped too.

The pony in question had just finished taking a batch of his namesake out of the oven and setting them on the counter to cool. “Ah, there you are,” Fritter said with a smile. He glanced over me for a moment before continuing, “You’re looking unusually chipper today.” His smile strained a little as he sniffed the air. “Are you drunk?”

I laughed. “Maybe just a little,” I said. “Don’t worry about it. Did you read the stuff I sent you?”

Fritter laughed. “I don’t think ‘read’ is the right word for that. It felt more like translating sphinx.”

I rolled my eyes. “Yeah, yeah, laugh it up. My WAND is on the fritz. Hay, it’s a miracle it works as well as it does. The one Jess had was completely fried.”

Fritter winced. “Oooh, that’s not gonna be cheap.”

“Tell me about it,” I said.

Fritter waved it off, turning his attention back to the pastries he was busy destroying, adding what looked like… hot sauce? While he worked he asked, “So just what the hell happened on your little field trip? You said something about keeping me updated.”

My nose twinged as a waft of whatever poison Fritter was making made itself known. Grimacing, I rolled with it. “Yeah, well short story is, the lead was a bust, mostly.”

“Mostly?” Fritter inquired.

“Mostly,” I affirmed. “As it turned out, our battleship had a bit of an infestation problem. We got caught in the back and had to blow the main engine core in order to get out. The fallout fried pretty much everything on the ship, or at least that’s what I’m betting. We didn’t exactly have time to check while we were running from a rampaging horde of soul-eating robots.”

“Sounds like you’ve had a full day,” Fritter laughed.

“Something like that,” I sighed. “Either way, the ship was probably more trouble than it was worth. I figure we could just sell its location to somepony who can do something about it and leave it at that. Not to say that we left empty-hooved, however.” Nosing through my suit pack, I floated out the storage cube with my WAND. Or at least I tried to, despite my best efforts, it wobbled horribly in the air before I finally managed to set it on the counter next to the Fritter’s newest culinary disaster. “Know how to crack one of these open?” I asked him.

Fritter whistled. He sat down and picked up the cube, turning it over in his hooves. “No, but I’m gonna damn well find out. Holy shit, man, where did ya find this beauty?”

I smiled. “I cracked a safe in the Captain’s quarters, I think it was supposed to contain facility records or something. My mind is a bit fuzzy at the moment. I don’t think I’ve slept for the better part of two days.”

Fritter smirked. “I bet the alcohol isn’t helping either.”

I laughed, “Yeah, probably not. You said you had an update for me as well?”

Fritter’s smirk grew into a full blown grin. “Yes! Actually! Although, due to some expenses, you’re gonna have to pay me for this one.”

My smile wavered. “How much?”

“Four hundred bits,” Fritter said with a straight face.

I was thankful I wasn’t drinking water. “Four hundred bits!” I nearly shouted.

Fritter winced, “Shh! Not so loud! Jeez!”

I grunted. “Sorry.”

“Look dude, I know it’s a lot, but you wouldn’t believe how many bribes I had to pay to get this info” Fritter said, glancing over at the other patrons to make sure no one was listening.

“Info on what?” I replied.

“Your mechanic,” he said.

“Tick?” I said, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah. Everypony I talked to was super tight-lipped about the whole thing, and I had to pay a small fortune in bribes both to get the info and keep 'em quiet about it.”

I blinked. “What, is she some sort of secret agent or something?” It was a legitimate question, really. After all, I was technically hanging out with a headhunter and a… what exactly did Nightshade do, anyway? He said he needed to kill somepony. Was he an assassin? Super spy? A lying bastard? Probably that last one.

Fritter shrugged. “That’s just the thing. I don’t know.”

“You don’t know,” I deadpanned. “You want me to give you four hundred bits, and you don’t know.”

“bankers take more for less,” Fritter said with a smirk.

“Touché,” I replied.

“I just need the money to cover my incidental costs. But I do have info for you. You just, well, money first, please.” Fritter whipped out a bitstick. Grudgingly, I pulled out one of my own and made the transfer.

“Alright, spill. And this better be worth it.”

“Okay, so, after you made your request, I did some digging into your mechanic friend’s history,” Fritter said.

“Yes?” I replied.

“And that’s it,” he said.

“Four hundred bits...”

“No no! Hear me out for a sec. That was it.” He repeated the last word with an air of finality.

“I don’t follow.”

Fritter groaned, “It’s like this, Horizon, her history? blank. Nothing. No background, no records, nothing. It’s like she doesn’t even exist, or if the records do exist, they’re not on the M-Net.”

A mechanic with no paper trail? That was odd. “So, what, is she like, a ghost? or something?”

Fritter shook his head. “Not quite. But as things stand, legally, she doesn’t exist.” He bent over to put a batch of newly hot-sauced dough back into the small oven in his stand. “The discovery forced me to talk to a few of my more remote contacts about it, and they came up with about the same results.”

“So, what you’re saying is.”

“There’s nothing. At least, not pertaining to her history. I know she’s using a bank account but I couldn’t get a bead on it no matter what I tried. It's under some very tight security. I did find something interesting, however, although given what I told you, It’s probably not all that surprising.”

“And what’s that?” I said.

“That asteroid colony where you picked her up at? No pony named Tickintime has ever been on their payroll. Ever. As far as records show, she never worked there, and their financial filings showed the same. If she was working there as a mechanic, they weren’t paying her to be there,” Fritter said.

“How does that help us?” I asked.

“Well, it doesn’t, sorta. And this is where that hush money came in,"Fritter said. "After I did my research, I had a short conversation with the pony who would technically be her overseer. It took a few bits to loosen his tongue, but according to him, your friend just showed up out of the blue one day and started volunteering. She always refused pay, always paid her bills, and for the most part, spent a lot of hours working on the more exotic hardware.”

“Did he say anything else?”

“Not really. Well, other than that she was the best worker he’d ever seen and that he was sorry to see her leave. But, they’re weren’t paying her, so technically she never really worked for him in the first place. And that’s about all I could find,” Fritter finished.

“So, more questions, then,” I said.

“More questions,” Fritter agreed, nodding his head.

“Great,” I muttered. First one pony with a mysterious background, and now two. Could I trust anyone? Could I trust Jess? That train of thought was rewarded with a smack on the head.

“Ow! What was that for?” I said, rubbing the spot where Fritter had hit me.

“I know that look on you, Horizon. You’re getting all dark and moody again. Stop it.”

I am not dark and moody, I sulked.

“Oh, one other thing about your friend,” Fritter suddenly added. “Wherever she went missing from, she really doesn’t want to be found. The fact that even my contacts can’t find data on her means that she had to have used an Eraser, and a really good one at that. You find that pony, and we might be able to find some of the data we’re missing.”

“They’d keep it on hoof?” I asked.

“Well, yeah, I mean, you never know when you’re gonna need some good blackmail. Or an out, in some cases. It’s standard practice, really. You just have to use something secure to keep it in.” Fritter picked up the storage cube again and gestured with it. “Like this. You didn’t pick up anything else with it, did you?”

I nodded, “yeah, the Captain’s tablet, I don’t know if it survived the pulse from the engine core, though.”

Fritter frowned, “Well, it might be useful, even if it didn’t. I’ve got a few connections that might be able to salvage its memory, if nothing else.”

Nosing through my pack, I pulled out the tablet with my teeth and placed it on the counter. “Have fun with that,” I said. In a smooth motion, Fritter tucked both the cube and the tablet behind the counter with a single sweep of his leg.

“Oh! Other stuff!” Fritter suddenly said. “Here!” I heard a keypress. My WAND beeped as something transferred. “I’ve found a few more emails that you might find interesting between your old boss and his friend.” Fritter frowned. “Something kinda weird happened too.”

“Weird?” I asked again. I heard another keypress and my WAND beeped again.

“This email,” Fritter said, “I was contacted by somepony off of both my network and Junkyard’s. He had a weird callsign too. It’s a single digit number, super rare.”

“Why is it rare?”

“That… would take too long to explain. And it’s not that important. What is important is how the fuck he knew how to get into my network. I mean hell, even I have firewalls, and they’re not cheap ones either.”

“You think he’s dangerous?”

“You don’t crack into a broker’s info network just to say hello. That’s like breaking into somepony’s house with a shotgun and asking if you could borrow some milk.”

“Weird.”

“Yeah, weird. But, he’s assured me that he doesn’t mean me any harm, only that he needed to get in touch with me for future reference. Frankly, I don’t trust him, but with how easily he broke my encryption, I don’t think my opinion really matters, and that really freaks me out.”

“Are you gonna be okay?” I asked.

“Only time will tell, I suppose, but I’m getting ready to make a quick exit just in case.”

“Anything else?” I asked.

“Oh! Yeah! Joe sends his love, and he’s also wondering where his whiskey is.” Fritter smiled, which turned into a frown as I winced. “You didn’t bring it, did you.”

“We had to make an emergency stop after our little trip to the battleship. We’d taken too much damage to make it out there in time.”

Fritter raised an eyebrow.

“I’ll get to it, I swear.”

“Yeah, sure. Just do it sometime this month or else he’s gonna get all pissy again.”

“Joe gets pissy?”

“Well, no, not really, but he will cut off your tab.”

“Noted,” I said.

“Well that’s enough of that. I’ve got to finish getting set up here, and you look like you could use some sleep. Big time.” Fritter nodded.

My body agreed. I was about a half-hour away from collapsing in public. “I am pretty exhausted. Know any good places to get a little shuteye? I’m hoping to avoid another stay at a Tuck’n’Roll.”

“Well, there’s a hotel not too far from here. I dunno if they serve other races, though. I think your best bet would be to use that old apartment we had you holed up in.“

“That thing is still open?”

“It is now,” Fritter said, pulling a keycard out from underneath the counter and pushing it in my direction. “Joe told me to give you this the next time I saw you. He figured if you ever dropped by you’d need it. He also spent a bit of time cleaning the place out for ya in case you showed. Family hospitality, or something like that.”

“Wow… I don’t know what to say,” I’m unintentionally inheriting a dead pony’s apartment. Yay?

“A simple thank you would be a good place to start, probably.”

“Wait, Isn’t it still dangerous down there?”

Fritter grimaced. “Things have… changed, while you’ve been gone.”

“Changed how?”

“For the better, sort of,” Fritter said sadly. “The station police finally stepped into the gang wars down in the factory district. They raided every last level, and cleared the whole place out. I swear they must’ve brought in teams from like six different stations. It was a huge force, or so I heard.”

“Wow.”

“Yeah, wow. Everything's gone. Sweeped clean. The body count was pretty high, and one sided. I think only six cops went down, and even then their injuries weren’t even fatal. Can’t say the same for the gangers. Regardless, the businesses will be glad to have the factory space back, to say the least.”

Well, so ends that chapter. I thought. “Well that’ll save me a few bits at least. Especially after paying you.”

Fritter grinned, “What? A buck has gotta eat! Speaking of, want a fritter?” He offered one of his namesake. It was suspiciously red.

“I think I’ll pass this time, thanks,” I said, placing a hoof between myself and the pastry in case it magically made its way closer to me. “Thanks for everything, Fritter.”

“Anytime. Get some sleep, dude, I’ll see ya again later.”

I let him get back to work, as I turned and left. I didn’t leave a tip, this time. Four hundred bits my ass.

***

The door control beeped as the keycard did its magic and the door opened, admitting me into the old apartment. As I entered, I whistled. Fritter wasn’t kidding when he had said that Joe had cleaned the place up for me. For what it was worth, the place was spotless. Maybe not brand new, but every sign of the previous occupant had been cleared out save for a few bits of useful furniture. I spent a little time taking a tour of the place, noting all the interesting nooks and crannies, and what things might be put in them in the future. I sat on a leftover couch and breathed, unsure of what I should make of it.

This place didn’t belong to me. It was a mantra that kept repeating in my head, yet was repeatedly struck down by colorless logic. This place didn’t really belong to anyone. Not anymore, anyway. Still, it was hard to separate it from the knowledge that a dead pony used to live here. Not that he had any more use for it. In time, I figured the local government would reclaim it. But for now…

I checked the small kitchen near the entry way and found it to be in order. The sink had running water, cold at first, but it warmed quickly. Working utilities. A good sign. I took a quick drink before moving on to check the rest.

The pantry had been emptied, naturally. I sincerely doubted that anything left over from the previous resident would have kept this long anyway. The cookware was powered. The microwave worked fine, and so did the small oven. A small rice cooker sat unplugged, wedged in the corner. The fridge was empty. Praise Luna. Out in the living room I saw a comfy looking couch, and an old holo projector. The control was missing, but if I could get my WAND working I wouldn’t need it. Silently I nodded to myself. The apartment wasn’t large by any description, but it was working. Humble, but useable. I smiled to myself, taking a deep breath of air with a hint lemon freshener.

I checked the bedroom. It was small and cramped. A tiny closet sat on one side with a humble bed and nightstand on the other and maybe two pony’s width of walking distance in between. I spotted a shower a few steps beyond and a cleaner right next to it.

As far as apartments went, I couldn’t have asked for a better setup. Idly, I started tossing around the idea of trying to make it official. I’d have to talk to Joe, of course. He would know more about how to get everything squared away than anypony else I could imagine. I put it out of my mind. If I really liked it, I’d talk with him about it later.

I made use of the shower. Hot. Nice. No soap. Not so nice. I also put my flight suit in the cleaner, making a mental note to buy several replacements before I left on whatever other errand I needed to take care of. All told, I walked back into living feeling light a new stallion, clean and fresh and also a bit sleepy from the hot shower. For want of a glass, I took another long draught from the kitchen sink and then made my way back to the bedroom. As I passed the table, I stopped. Glancing backward, I had missed it before, I saw a note sitting on the dining room table.

Sorry for lying. This was the other part of that four hundred bits you owe me. I finally made some headway on Nightshade, but, knowing him, I didn’t want to bring it up while we were speaking in case he was listening in somehow. You know how he is. Anyway, listen up:

I found a contact.

I found somepony who has info on him. Legit info. But the pony’s holding out on me until I can guarantee his condition.

He wants to meet up.

I don’t like it. And I’ve got a bad feeling about this. My hunch is that he’s after Nightshade, and I’m pretty sure it’s not for a Pinkie party. Either way, I want to sit on this one for a bit. I’ll let you know what I find on a secure channel.

Destroy this note when you’re done reading it.
-Fritter

I crammed it down the sink disposal and let the blades do the rest.

***

It was hours later that I finally roused from sleep, still feeling the numb from sleeping on a wing. I groaned as I felt tiny needles work their way into the appendage, rolling over and stuffing my face into my pillow, intent on getting at least another ten minutes of shut-eye. An insistent buzz filled the air, floating in from the main lobby. It took my muddled a short while to realize that it was coming from the front door. Groaning, I rolled onto my side, opening one tired lid to stare at an alarm clock that Joe had so helpfully left behind when he had cleared everything else out. Assuming it was accurate, it was just past six in the evening.

The door buzzed again. With a resigned sigh I rolled over, sidling off the bed onto my hooves and working a kink out of my now only slightly numb wing, before slowly trudging into the foyer door and pressing my hoof solidly against the door control. There was a beep, and the door slid smoothly open.

I blinked, and my brain registered who was standing there.

"Morning Jess," I said with a tired yawn.

Jess looked amused, smirking ever so slightly while glancing over my person. “You know I wondered if I’d ever see you with bed head, but this is just priceless. Sleep well?”

I rubbed eyes with a foreleg before answering. “Was. How did you find me?” I said.

“Fritter. He was kind enough to point me in your direction. He also said he was going to be right along after he closed up shop for the night. Pretty useful buck, isn’t he?”

I smiled. “Yes he is. How was the hooficure?”

A dreamy smile crept onto her face. “Divine. If I could do that every day I’d be one happy mare," she said, before adding, "and completely broke." She shrugged. "But hey, if somepony else wants to treat me, I’ve got no complaints.” With another glance over my person, she turned a critical eye to what I assumed was my hygiene. “You look like you could use one too. Hey wait…” Jess stopped, tilting her head and squinting. Her eyes traced their way down my body, “Turn around a sec, I never got to see your cutie mark.”

I suddenly realized I was still naked. I shrunk back, covering myself with my tail and a modesty honed over years. The fact that it was a mare staring at me didn’t help things. I felt the heat rise in my cheeks. "I... don't have one, Jess."

“Whoah! You’re blank flank?” Jess said, a trace of a laugh in her voice. It took sincere willpower not to hide. Being nude in front of other ponies was one of those things I just wasn’t comfortable with. But until I fetched my suit out of the cleaner, I really didn’t have much of a choice. Gritting my teeth, I just accepted it for what it was.

“Fader,” I managed with a grimace.

Her smile vanished. She winced, rubbing a spot behind her neck. "Sorry, it's easy to forget when you hide it so much," She said.

“It’s not important,” I sighed and stepped aside, “Come on in, there's no point in having you stand around out there.” Jess obliged, walking inside. “Where’s Tick?” I asked as the door shut behind her.

“She stayed behind with the ship,” Jess replied. “She wanted to get a head start on the repairs. I swear, that girl just does not know when to stop.”

I smirked, “Or maybe she enjoys what she does a little too much. I still think she’s bitten off more than she can chew with the Bandit. That ship is determined to stay broken if you ask me.”

“The way you fly it it’s a miracle we haven’t exploded already,” Jess said with a laugh.

I rolled my eyes. “Give it time.”

“Nice pad!” Jess exclaimed, wheeling around as she did her own investigation.

I grinned. “I know, right? I was thinking about asking Joe if I could actually lease it. It would be nice to actually have a place of my own, I think.”

Jess’ smile wavered. “Huh,” she said, thinking for a moment, "I thought your file said you were living in that old apartment complex back on L6-C."

I frowned. "Technically, yes, but calling that place an apartment is giving it too much credit. All I did was pay rent. The only part of that place that I actually owned was the couch, and If Junkyard had deigned to pay me more, I would have aimed for something actually livable."

Jess frowned. "I see..."

The buzzer rang again. It was probably more of a courtesy than anything else, since in the next moment the control beeped and the door slid neatly open. Fritter walked in with his normal, if slightly tired, cheer. “Well, I can honestly say that my new recipe was a bust. I only had two customers today only one of them ended up in the hospital."

Jess laughed, "You sound like you were aiming for two."

Fritter only smiled in response. After a moment he turned to me, "How ya doin Horizon? Sleep well?"

I nodded. “Well enough, I suppose. I think I owe Joe a few more favors for doing all this.”

“Don’t let him hear you say that or he might take you up on it,” Fritter laughed. Clearing his throat he asked, “You’re still looking for work, right?”

I frowned, “Always. Why do you ask?”

Fritter grinned, “Because I just got a sick lead on something big. Safer, this time, I swear. You like salvaging, right?”

My frown deepened. "‘Like’ is a subjective term. It was a job. I did it. I was pretty good at it. I can't use the drones right now, though, so anything we bring back is gotta be small.”

Fritter nodded, “It'll have to be good enough. Listen, I just got word back from a contact of mine about something that’s gotten some big wigs out in the NSR riled up.”

I raised an eyebrow. “If this is another goose chase, Fritter, I mean, hell, we just got back from one!”

“No no! Hear me out. This one’s probably legit,” he assured me.

“Probably?” I asked incredulously.

“Shush, just listen.” Fritter said. “One of my contacts from Junkyard's network told me that the NSR got word of some sort of ghost ship that somepony found out in the Veil, and I'm guessing it must be something real damn good, because they dropped everything to send a search party out for it, including a House flagship.”

“I fail to see how this concerns me,” I said.

“It also sounds to me like you’re planning piracy,” Jess added with a disapproving frown.

Fritter groaned, "Ugh, No. First off, I have standards, and second, I'm not that kind of pony." He huffed, "But if you must know, the only reason I'm bringing this up is because I think they might have run into some trouble. They were scheduled to be out only for a couple weeks at most. A brief investigation, and then that would be it. But according to my contact, they missed their last check-in.”

“And now I want to go even less," I said. "I’m not jumping into another shit show, Fritter. Nothing good ever came out of deep space. At least not in the movies, anyway.”

“Pah, that’s just superstitious nonsense,” Fritter replied. “This could be big. I don’t know what exactly why the NSR is so excited, but it has to be important if they were willing to send a bunch of ships after it. All I know, is that my contact is willing to pay for information on what happened to the convoy, so you don't even need to to find the ghost ship if you don't want to. Just figure out where the convoy disappeared to and we should both get paid. Besides, you can’t keep binging off your boss’s money forever.”

“Not if I have to keep paying what you’re charging me, no,” I replied. Although, he did have a point. I really couldn’t afford to pass up a lead at the rate I was burning through Junkyard’s bits. Part of me wanted to argue that it was not my fault, but… one thing has just been leading to another.

“Hey man, just because we’re friends doesn’t mean I work for free.” Fritter said, and then brightening, he turned to Jess, “Oh, by the way, Jess, I’ll get started on that thing for you tonight. It shouldn’t be too hard with what you gave me.”

Jess nodded.

"Thing?" I asked.

“I’m just tracking down my ship, don’t worry about it,” Jess said.

There’s a story behind that, I thought. I chose to ignore it.

“Alright then, Fritter. Dollar signs. How much is your contact willing to pay?”

“Well, if the convoy is important as it seems to be, then I’m wagering quite a bit-- several thousand, maybe more. The ponies who went missing were pretty high up the chain, so I'm told. I'll see if I can't wring more info out of him, in the meantime. Find that convoy.”

“And just how the hell am I supposed to do that? I can’t just pick random coordinates and hope for the best you know.”

“And that’s where I’ve got you.” Fritter said with a smile. Opening his saddlebag he pulled out a small data stick and handed it to me. “My contact had the rough location of the coordinates the NSR ponies were heading to. Follow those, and maybe they’ll be nearby.”

I looked at the coordinates and did some rough math in my head. I didn’t like the figures I was getting. “That’s a long way to go for something this vague,” I said, frowning. “Can it wait? I have enough stuff on my plate already in case you forgot.”

Fritter shook his head. “Unfortunately, no. This info is already a little old, and I don't think it’s going to last more than a few days before it becomes useless. I doubt the window on this is going to last even that long.”

I frowned, glancing at Jess for help. I was sure she, at least, could see why this was a terrible idea. She blanched, “What, hey! Don’t look at me! I thought our last little sortie was actually kinda fun. Tick certainly did, what with the way she kept gushing on and on about it during our hooficure.”

Fritter tried his best to calm my nerves, "I swear, Horizon, you're gonna be fine on this one. No dangerous traps or horrible encounters. Hell, if anything happens then I'll give your bits back. Scout's honor."

I quirked an eyebrow. "You don't seem like the type of pony I'd see in the colt scouts," I said.

Fritter blushed, "Yeah, heh, well, the things your parents make you do, right?"

It was hard to suppress my scowl. Somehow, I managed. "Fine. I’ll do it," I sighed, "But I'm not leaving until I can get the Bandit fixed. I want to make sure we're good and ready before we depart."

Fritter smiled, "Great! Let me know what you find."

And just like that, I was off on another wild goose chase. Yay.

Too bad I didn't know just what the hell I was getting into.
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