Players and Pawns
Ace’s day was not going very well at all. First he had been seen at a crime scene, thus ending up on the Royal Guard’s radar once again. Then his plan to recruit some criminals from the inside of a jailhouse had been thrown off by one disturbingly stubborn minotaur. And now, having finally left said minotaur behind, he was confronted with yet another person who seemed to be after his head. Well at least it was a griffon this time. He could never be accused of not having racially diverse enemies.
The griffoness allowed her handcuffs to stop spinning so she could devote all her attention into glaring at him, “So, what happened to your minotaur friend?”
For a moment, Ace was honestly confused. Had she really not noticed what was happening in the station? “We had something of a falling out.” He eventually answered.
“No honour among thieves eh?” She snorted. “I suppose you know who I am.”
An artfully raised eyebrow was his response, “Can’t really say I do. Have we met before?”
“Don’t play dumb with me. We’ve been on your trail for months now.” Seeing the satyr’s bemused expression she turned up the power on her glare. “Summit Investigations? Canterlot’s number one investigative service? Ringing any bells yet?”
Ace sucked air in through his teeth, “Sorry, detective agencies aren’t really my area of speciality. I tend to work on the other side of the law.”
“Yeah, we noticed.” The griffoness said flatly, “Okay then, what about Baltimare? We almost caught you there. Had your safe house surrounded and everything.”
“That was you?! I wondered how the Guard managed to find me so quick.” He looked around quickly, noting that the only escape from the yard was currently covered by the detective. Not to mention that, even if he did try running past her, she still had wings. And talons. Really sharp looking talons. “Don’t suppose I could get a name? You already know so much about me. Seems rude not to extend the same courtesy.”
She snorted again, something she seemed fond of doing around him, “Detective First Class Rosamund. Now, be a good criminal and get on the ground with your limbs spread flat.”
Ignoring her request, Ace continued. “Now then Rosamund-“
“Detective.”
“What?”
“Call me Detective. You don’t get to use my name.”
Ace shrugged and nodded, “Very well. Now then Rose,” He barely restrained a smile at the furious look on her face, “You and I seem to have gotten off on the wrong foot. Hoof. Paw? Whatever. I’m actually a nice guy, despite what you might have heard. Besides,” He stopped and stared at her, his usually whimsical eyes completely serious, “There are far worse people out there than me. People who desperately need to be found and stopped. Permanently.”
Rosamund seemed taken aback by the thief’s sudden change of tone, “What in the world are you talking about?”
A blinding smile quickly replaced Ace’s morose expression. “Nothing at all Rose-y. Just a moment of soul-crushing depression brought on by the realisation that ‘fairness’ is a completely arbitrary concept that the universe outright refuses to acknowledge.
The detective stared at him for a moment, open mouthed, “What?”
“But not to worry, I’m back now and realising that this confrontation with you, directly after one of the more difficult fights I’ve ever had, is not due to coincidence but instead can be blamed entirely on cosmic bloodlust.”
“Okay, that’s fine. I guess.” Rosamund said with a shake of her head, “Are you going to be quiet and under arrest now or do I have to come down there and make you be?”
“No can do I’m afraid.” He smiled, “This meeting has dragged on far too long and I believe my next appointment is here.”
Rosmaund’s eyes widened as she realised what he meant. However, before she could do anything about it a flying kick slammed into the side of her head. The griffon detective was sent flying off her perch by the force of the blow, eventually landing with a clatter in the station’s large rubbish bin. Ace looked up at his saviour, a young pegasus mare who looked quite familiar. She also appeared to be hyperventilating and was staring at the downed detective with wide eyes.
“Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear.” She muttered again and again like a mantra, “Is she okay? I didn’t mean to…Oh Celestia, I’m in so much trouble. Why did I do that?”
“Well I’m not complaining.”
The mare, however, appeared to not be paying any attention to him. “She said she was a detective. That’s like a Guard right? I just kicked a Guard off a building. No, no, no. What was I thinking?”
Seeing that, at the moment, there was no getting through to the panicked pegasus, Ace simply shrugged and moved over to the bin, peering inside. Thankfully, the bin hadn’t been emptied yet, meaning that Rosamund’s fall had been broken by a large pile of torn up paper and rotting food. Her breathing appeared to be stable and a quick inspection revealed that there was no blood. From the look of things, there wouldn’t be any permanent damage. Still, just to be sure, Ace drew a card and pressed it down onto the griffon’s forehead, carefully concealing the movement from the pegasus behind him. The Five of Hearts should be more than enough to deal with a minor injury like that. The detective might not be happy when she woke up, not to mention in need of a shower, but at least she would be alive. Turning away, Ace walked back to the new arrival.
“Good kick.” He said, craning his neck up to where she was perched. Between Grante, Rosamund and this newcomer, Ace was getting tired of having to look up to talk to everyone. It was going to end up seriously damaging his neck muscles.
“And then they’ll send me to a maximum security prison. I’ll never survive there I tell you, not with these hips. The mares there will eat me alive. Wait, what did you say?” She finally seemed to snap out of her daydream and notice Ace.
“Good kick. Smooth entry, you got a good arc on it and even managed to get her directly into the bin. Nailed the landing too.” He gave her a thumbs up, “Ten points.”
“You!”
“Me.” Ace nodded at the accurate, if not overly specific, statement.
“Back in the station, you managed to open a cell door with one of my feathers. How’d you do that?”
That explains why she seemed so familiar, “Seriously? That’s what you want to know?”
“Well no,” The mare frowned, “I also want you teach me how to do it.”
The satyr stared at her for a moment before sighing and dragging a hand through his hair, “Okay, first things first. What’s your name?”
“Gale Force.”
“Okay Miss Force. Do you mind terribly if we discuss this elsewhere?” He gestured round at the fact that they were still in the yard of the Trottingham Guard Station, “This really isn’t the time or the place you understand.”
“Right, right.” She nodded, “So, back to your base?”
Ace barely managed to repress another sigh as the pegasus glided down and joined him on the ground, the two quickly disappearing into the alleyways of Trottingham. It had been a long day.
When Rosamund finally came too, it was to one of the few sights in the world that she outright dreaded. The steady glare of Brow Beat and the curious gaze of Brain Storm. The two ponies were looking over at her from the edge of a large bin. A bin, she realised, that she was currently inside.
Never before had she so regretted having a sense of smell.
“Ugh, I stink.” She groaned as she slowly attempted to regain her footing.
Brain Storm nodded, his face completely serious, “Agreed. I am glad that you have finally come to acknowledge your deficit.”
She glared at her fellow detective, “Was that supposed to be a joke?”
“My apologies.” He replied, sounding honestly confused, “I was under the impression that ‘stink’ was commonly used as a catch-all term for inferiority. I heard it used quite commonly in insults.”
Rosamund sighed in defeat. This wasn’t the first time Brain had screwed up simple social etiquette like this. Probably wouldn’t be the last either. “Yeah, I bet you hear that insult all the time.”
“Correct,” He shrugged his scrawny shoulders, “Though I believe my insulters to have been delusion. A quick comparison of our intellects proved me to be the far superior.” He smiled in a way that managed to be both smug and slightly malicious at the same time, “The evidence doesn’t lie.”
“Enough.” The much gruffer voice of Brow Beat interrupted before Rosamund could make a satisfactory comeback. “The target escaped.” The griffon found herself wilting slightly under the old earth pony’s scowl, “Explain.”
“Could you help me out of this bin first? I’d really rather not tell the story from inside here.”
Reaching inside, Brow grabbed her extended and, with a grunt, yanked her out, almost throwing her through the air at the same time. He must really not be happy. Although, Rosamund couldn’t easily recall a time the more experienced detective had ever been happy.
As she told her tale, from arriving in Trottingham to being blindsided and knocked into the bin, Brow Beat’s scowl steadily deepened until, by the end of the explanation, he resembled a frown with legs more than an actual pony.
“You messed up.” He said simply.
“I know but-“
“No. You messed up and let our target escape. You got proud, and arrogant. Thought you could take him on alone.” Rosamund could barely meet his eyes, which burned with an intensity that she had never seen in the normally stoic detective. “He could have killed you. You’re damned lucky he didn’t.”
“Boss, I-“
“I’m not finished!” He roared, causing both Rosamund and Brain Storm to leap away from him. “What’s the first thing I taught you? The first sun-blasted lesson I taught you?”
“We’re a team.” She muttered, staring down at the floor.
“What was that?” His bellowed, reminding the griffon that he had once been a Sergeant in the Royal Guard and had probably done this to a thousand recruits. It was embarrassing to the extreme for the proud griffon to be treated like a rookie.
“We’re a team!”
“Damn right we are. So what in Tartarus were you thinking when you tried to engage the target alone? What? You thought you’d come swaggering in with the bastard all wrapped up in chains like some big bad huntress?” Rosamund barely suppressed her discomfort as Brow seemed to practically read her mind. “Well look how well that turned out.” He sighed, the anger seeming to drain out of him in a second. In a much calmer voice he continued. “Now tell me, what should you have done?”
“Sir?”
“I didn’t train you to be an idiot Rose. Look back over what happened and tell me what you should have done.”
Rosamund thought about it for a moment. “As soon as I knew that he would escape I should have waited on the roofs and then followed him back to his base of operations. Once identified, I should have waited for you to arrive and, depending on the size of the base, also called in additional reinforcements from the local Guard.”
Brow Beat nodded in satisfaction, “Correct. And in future you’ll do just that. Right?”
“Yes sir!” She shouted, feeling the inexplicable urge to salute.
“Good. Now then, looks like we might be here a while after all. Best to co-ordinate our efforts with the local Guards.” He sniffed, “And I think you could use a bath.” Turning around, Brow Beat strode towards the station, the two junior detectives following him wordlessly.
A particularly bad bump in the road woke up the minotaur. Grante’s eyes snapped open, darting round to take in his surroundings. He appeared to be in a large caged wagon and, if the mountain range he could make out just on the edge of his vision was correct, he was also heading towards Canterlot. The enforcer was no fool and realised what had happened immediately. Somehow, Ace had defeated him and left him there. The remaining Guards must have been quick to capitalise on his helplessness. If he had to guess, he was probably being passed up the chain of command so that he was someone else’s problem.
An unfortunate consequence of him letting loose back in the Guard station meant that the ponies had taken no chances with him. The amount of chains weighing on him pressed down on Grante. He could barely even move his fingers with how his arms had been restrained, and his legs weren’t much better.
“Can’t help but noticed that you failed in that overwhelmingly simple task I set you.” A voice echoed inside the minotaur’s head, making him wince in pain as a dull throbbing began at the back of his skull. Even worse than that though was the fact that the voice sounded slightly amused.
“I’m sorry sir. I underestimated my opponent. I assure you that it will not happen again.” Grante replied, causing the pony Guards that surrounded his mobile cell to look at him in confusion. “I will finish the job.”
“Don’t bother. He’s probably already gone to ground and you aren’t exactly the most subtle tracker.” The voice laughed, “Besides, with any luck you’ll have scared him enough that he won’t mess with us again.”
“You don’t honestly believe that do you sir?” The Guards around him were backing off now, weapons ready and horns glowing as he continued to ignore them and talk to himself.
A sigh, “No, but it’s nice to dream. Anyway, hurry up and escape already. Then return to base and wait for the blasted satyr to pop his head up again.”
“Yes sir.” Grante said before yanking at the chains that held him down. Surprisingly the metal held. No matter how the minotaur moved, he was just too well held down to escape his bonds. “Ah, I may have a problem sir. These are very good restraints.”
“Really? I thought ponies were crap at making this stuff.”
“Perhaps they had help? I understand that many minotaur tribes are becoming more and more eager to trade for Equestrian goods.”
“Huh. Well hurray for international trade I guess. Alright, I’ll help you out then. Better brace yourself.”
“Oh dear,” The enforcer muttered to himself as he felt something terrible begin to shift deep inside his chest, pumping a foul liquid into his muscles. He turned his head as much as he could to look the nearest Guard in the eye, “I am so sorry for what is about to happen.”
Before the Guard could respond, the Black Brew reached Grante’s brain, the minotaur’s eyes turning completely black as he felt an irrational rage overtake him. With one mighty roar, the chains that held him bound shattered, the cell bars following shortly afterwards. Then Grante was among the helpless Guards, laying into them with Brew-enhanced blows that shattered bodies in one hit. All the while, cruel laughter filled the minotaur’s head.
“Goddamn it is a pleasure to watch you work.”
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Ouch, a rather bad way of control...
Damn...things are getting fuuun.
Why do I have the feeling that Grante is going to become a running gag? Complete with team rocket references?
I agree with the Minotaur's voice in his head, it IS a pleasure to watch him work.
4963301
Oh please, please?
That would be amazing
why do i want to laugh like a mad man while a minutar gets a powerup? ohh man he is screwed more and more each the day
I feel immense pity for those guards. They live right?
Was that supposed to be a question?
We have all used it heard quite commonly in insults.
4967607
I'mma gonna guess... no.
Given he is the offspring of Lady Luck, and his being a satyr, he should have a brief drunken fling with Luna. A little obscure Greek myth reference. ;D
I just finished the previous story and I have to say I sorta expect a few crossovers and maybe some contact with a few cannon characters. I mean what's the best form of luck by having two champions of luck cross paths?
Oh shit
I'm getting Sly Cooper vibes.