• Published 27th Dec 2014
  • 1,300 Views, 46 Comments

Moonwing - Samey90

A filly gets murdered in the bat pony district of Canterlot. Scootaloo and Archer take the case.

  • ...


3 AM. A unicorn doctor teleported in the middle of the ER, holding a bloodied pony in his hooves. Few hours later, a trauma surgery and several blood transplant later, the patient, earth mare aged twenty four, ended up in the ward, fighting with the effects of hypovolemic shock and peritonitis. Young kid, gonna be better.

Schwalbe, hanging upside-down on the street lamp, looked through the window of the hospital, at a blue pony lying in bed, surrounded by various machinery and tubes. She bit the pen stronger and wrote in her journal:

Seems that the blue one has more luck than brains.


The world around her was blurry. She blinked, but nothing changed. She could see mostly a greenish, blurred background, with some brown and orange blur above her.

“What...” She coughed.

“Don’t talk,” the brown blur said in Button Mash’s voice. “Use this.”

She was given a pencil and a notebook. She grabbed a pencil with her mouth and wrote:

“How bad is it?”

“You were out for two days, you have a hole in your stomach, you pee in a bag, and you’re high on meds,” an orange blur replied in Scootaloo’s voice. “Also, the doctors decided to check your head. It turned out, there was nothing there, except for a thread. When they cut it, your ears fell off.”

“Ha. Ha. Ha,” Archer wrote. “The guy who shot me?”

“We’re looking for him,” Scootaloo said. “You’re lucky he used a different crossbow than the one he shot Cyan Skies with.” She lowered her voice to a whisper. “Also, Riot told me secretly that both bolts have a spiral engraved on the tip, similar to one that was cut on Moonwing’s wing.”

Archer nodded and turned to Button. “Seems that we’re not gonna go anywhere on our anniversary,” she wrote.

“Yeah,” Button muttered. “Why do you always have to be like that, Archer? Can’t live a day without getting into trouble?”

Archer attempted to shrug, but winced.

Dr. Stable entered the room and cleared his throat. “Excuse me, but the patient needs rest,” he said. Button and Scootaloo walked out of the room with him.

“How long will she be here?” Scootaloo asked.

“It’ll take a lot of time for her to fully recover,” Dr. Stable replied. “It’s a miracle that we managed to save her.” He sighed. “Gonna go back to her. Dr. Ventricle will be with her later.”

“Why not you, doc?” Scootaloo asked.

“It’s my daughter’s cute-ceanera today,” Dr. Stable replied. “But don’t worry, Ventricle won’t let her die. He brought her here, after all.”

Scootaloo nodded. “I have to go,” she said to Button. “I have some work to do...”

“I’ll stay here,” Button replied, looking at the door to Archer’s room.

An interesting coincidence. The hospital Archer is in is also the place where Stellar Dust is being kept. Pneumonia, parasites, malnutrition, Luna knows what else. Checking her eyes. Psychologist sits there all the time.

Schwalbe knocked at the door and, not waiting for any response, opened it. The mare she recognised as Ice Pick, a psychologist working with the guards immediately trotted to her.

“You can’t go here,” Ice Pick said. “The patient is–” She paused when Schwalbe looked into her eyes.

“Looking for her mother,” Schwalbe said. “Need to ask a few questions.”

“Are you a guard?” Ice Pick asked. “I don’t remember you...”

“Auntie Schwalbe!” Stellar Dust exclaimed. She got out of bed and trotted to Schwalbe, grabbing her leg.

“Hello, Stellar,” Schwalbe muttered, pushing the filly away gently. “How are you?”

“Moonwing died.” Stellar’s voice quivered. “B-but it means she’s in better place now, right?”

“Yes,” Schwalbe replied. “She definitely is. Still looking for your mom. You didn’t recall anything she said?”

“No,” Stellar replied. “I miss her. The doctors are okay, but...”

“I know.” Schwalbe sighed and patted the filly’s mane. “I’ll do anything to find her.” She saw the look Ice Pick was giving her. “Gotta go. Later.”

“Later,” Stellar said when Schwalbe left the room.

“Go back to bed, Stellar,” Ice Pick said. “I need to talk to the guards about something...”

Schwalbe trotted down the hospital’s corridor. She had seen Scootaloo there earlier, and, hoping she didn’t leave yet, went to the ward to talk with her.

The corridor was mostly empty; even Button Mash went somewhere. The only pony there was a short, blue pegasus wearing a black cloak, who was sitting in front of the door to Archer’s room, staring at it.

He didn’t see Schwalbe coming. She bumped into him, causing him to fall.

“Sorry,” she said, grabbing his hoof to help him up. However, instead of releasing it, she looked at it, spotting a small, spiral-shaped scar on it.

The pegasus suddenly felt Schwalbe’s grip tightening. “I believe we have to talk,” she muttered.

The pegasus blinked. He realised that he was lying on some cold, metallic surface and that someone heavy was sitting on him, holding his hoof in a tight embrace.

“Now, you’ll talk.” He heard a monotone voice. “Don’t bother screaming. Abandoned part of the basement. Just you and me.”

“What if I don’t talk?” the pony asked, looking around. The walls were covered with green tiles. There was also something that looked like a large chest of drawers made of metal on the opposite wall. A table, also made of metal, stood in the middle of the room. He realised he was lying on the other such table.

The pressure on his hoof increased. “The weakest point of the bone. I move it one more inch...” Schwalbe smirked. “Complicated, displaced fracture. Months to recover. Why are you here?”

“Fuck you... Aargh!” His scream was interrupted by an audible snap. He gritted his teeth, rolling on the table.

Schwalbe grabbed his other hoof. “You have three more. And two wings. Why are you here?”

“They... sent me...” The pony hissed.


“I can’t tell... Don’t break my hoof!” the hooded pony cried. “They’ll kill me...”

“They’re far away,” Schwalbe said innocently. “Me, however...”

“O-okay...” the pegasus shuddered. “I... I don’t really know them... There’s that guy, he’s always masked and he told us that we’re gonna rule the world and–”

“Rule the world?” Schwalbe clicked her tongue. “And you, such a smart colt, believed him?”

“I’ve seen things...” The pony licked his lips. “You have no idea...”

“I will,” Schwalbe replied. “They sent you here, right? Why?”

“I can’t... Aargh!”

“Two,” Schwalbe muttered. “So, why are you here?”

For a while, the pony was panting heavily, muttering curses under his breath. “They told me to follow...”

“Who? The wounded guard? Or the other one? Or maybe–” Schwalbe paused. The less ponies knew about Stellar Dust, the better.

“No...” the pony tried to move his hoof and hissed, gritting his teeth. “That doctor... Stable or something like that... I was just told to inform the guys when he leaves the hospital...”

“What guys?” Schwalbe asked, looking into the pegasus’ eyes.

“Not gonna tell...” the pony braced himself, but his hind leg was still intact. He looked at Schwalbe to see that she was looking at the metallic chest of drawers.

“Always wondered what’d happen if one got locked in those while alive...” Schwalbe muttered.

Scootaloo entered Riot Shield’s office, carefully balancing three cups of coffee in her hooves. “Hello, guys,” she said to Riot and Boysenberry who were sitting on the floor, surrounded by stashes of parchment. “Charge said that since Archer definitely didn’t kill Cyan Skies, I can help you with her papers. Did you find anything interesting?”

“So far, nothing,” Boysenberry replied. “Laundry, letters from aunt in Vanhoover, some orders from clients... Nothing interesting. Maybe for the tabloids. For example, Sapphire Shores once ordered twenty cream cakes on 3 AM and some guy called Black Marble–”

“Enough,” Riot muttered. “Don’t make Scootaloo think this work is fun. Few of her clients contacted her quite often.” He gave Scootaloo a piece of paper.

“Probably nothing,” Scootaloo muttered, looking through the paper. “And that’s definitely nothing. Fancy Pants needed catering for fifty ponies three times last month? How does that connect to a dead filly and some psycho with a crossbow?”

“Yeah, it’s crap,” Riot said. “Same like the fact that Fleur Dis Lee needed someone to go to Ponyville and buy fabric from Rarity.”

“What fabric?” Scootaloo asked. “Supermodels don’t usually buy fabric. They buy dresses...”

Boysenberry chuckled.

“What?” Scootaloo asked. “I don’t wear dresses, but I know something about them, okay? Rarity’s sister is... was my friend...” Scootaloo sighed. Over the last couple of years, she tried a lot of times to contact Sweetie Belle and tell her that she wanted to meet, but Sweetie never replied.

“Dunno,” Riot said. “They didn’t write what fabric.”

“I found something,” Boysenberry said, waving some piece of dirty parchment. “There’s a spiral on the top, same like on the kid’s wing... and...” She turned the paper upside-down. “I have no idea what it says...”

Riot looked at the parchment. “It’s some kind of code...” He gave the paper to Scootaloo, who read:

aeeso masef dathm ttrib koiew hhlya bmrie iltbe onlpm yhlgn ilote eimgg wounv ihieu needt vrcse nsteo hpdtu huv

“I don’t know...” Scootaloo said. “Someone got wounv and they needt vrc– How am I even supposed to pronounce that?”

“Better check if there are any hoofprints on it,” Riot said. “Also, there are some brainy guys in the station, give it to them instead of a morning crossword.”

“Sure,” Scootaloo said. She was about to get up, when she heard somepony knocking at the window.

“Schwalbe?” she asked, seeing the bat mare behind the glass. She rushed to open the window. “Something happened to Archer?”

“Better,” Schwalbe replied. “Where did your hare-brained cousin get that black cloak she was wearing?”

“Few years ago we arrested some idiots who tried to rob a grave,” Riot said, looking at Schwalbe unsurely. “After they got jailed, we didn’t need their cloaks lying in our evidence magazine anymore and we wanted to throw them away. Archer took one. She wanted to wear it during Nightmare Night or something...”

“Of course...” Schwalbe muttered, turning to Scootaloo. “Found another of those idiots. Told me we should go for a walk.”

“Now?” Scootaloo asked.

“Yes, now,” Schwalbe replied. “I’ll give her back safe and sound,” she said to Riot Shield.

They left the room through the window and flew above Canterlot. The sun was slowly setting behind the mountains.

“Is that guy alive?” Scootaloo asked. “The one you found.”

“Sure,” Schwalbe replied. “Two broken hooves. A little cold. Turns out, all pegasi are claustrophobic.”

“I’m not gonna ask...” Scootaloo muttered. “What did he say?”

“Had a black cloak. Our masked crossbowpony told him to follow Dr. Stable.”

“Dr. Stable? Why?” Scootaloo asked.

“Caves,” Schwalbe replied. “Remember his story? We both were in those caves... And now Cyan Skies was found there, right next to the entrance to that thing’s lair.”

“I don’t get it,” Scootaloo replied. “Why’d they follow Dr. Stable? He hasn’t been there ever since. He mentioned that his daughter’s cute-ceanera is today, so he’s not gonna go there. Moonwing probably never heard of that place, though she apparently lived nearby... What?” Scootaloo asked, seeing Schwalbe looking at her, frowning.

“His daughter, you say?” Schwalbe flapped her wings harder.

“That was really nice,” Lyra said when Heart Beat put the violin on the table. “When I was four, I couldn’t levitate anything.”

“Come on, Lyra, you’re a talent,” Bon Bon said when the other ponies gathered in Octavia’s house stopped clapping. “Your magic was as good when you were four as it is now...”

“I was quite talented,” Minuette muttered. She was sitting on the couch, resting herself against Beauty Brass, who didn’t seem happy about that. “And then Berry Punch came and screwed up my life...”

“Minuette...” Octavia hissed. “Are you drunk?”

“Maybe a bit,” Minuette muttered. “I’m sorry. Give me some coffee or something...” She stood up. “Well, maybe more than a bit...”

“You’d better go to sleep,” Lyra said. “Those rich guys are quite shocked by that Stable’s friend, but they may notice something...” She pointed at Dusk Dancer, who was looking at the statue of Arcturus standing by the stairs. Fleur approached her and the two started to talk.

“Sure,” Minuette muttered. She trotted through the crowd, bumping into Hoity Toity, who looked at her and winced. Minuette, however, didn’t notice him – she walked to Dusk Dancer and Fleur.

“I know you,” Fleur said, seeing her. “You are that doctor’s friend, right? The one who tried to cure that mare’s alcohol problem.”

“Sure I am...” Minuette replied, resting herself against Dusk Dancer, who hissed. “How do you know?”

“I was bitten by her too,” Fleur replied. “Dr. Stable wrote about it in his story...”

“Oh yeah, I totally forgot...” Minuette muttered and turned to Dusk Dancer. “And you were there too, right? In the caves, when Twilight Sparkle had to kill Berry...”

“Yes, I was there,” Dusk Dancer replied. “I’d rather not remember that...”

“Yeah, Equestria isn’t a fun place to live for you, huh? Idiots thinking you killed kids, trying to burn your home, making you live in the caves...”

“I like the caves, myself,” Dusk Dancer said. “And Fleur is really interested in bat pony culture. I think you should go to sleep, really. A kid is watching...”

“Yeah, kid...” Minuette looked at Heart Beat, who walked to the garden, sneaking between the guests. Most of them were Octavia’s and Dr. Stable’s friends; there were only a few foals there, mostly a bit older than Heart Beat. The filly, however, was actually very talkative, at least when she was among her peers. They were playing in the garden, watched carefully by Octavia’s mother.

Octavia approached Minuette and pulled her away from Dusk Dancer. “I still have a feeling that you enjoyed yourself too much today...” she muttered. “I’m sorry for her,” she said to Fleur.

“No problem,” Fleur said. “Have you seen Fancy?”

“He was talking with my husband and Hoity Toity about the money for the hospital,” Octavia replied.

“Of course...” Fleur muttered. “My husband can’t go for a minute without talking about money...”

Suddenly, the door to the garden opened and Octavia’s mother ran inside, panting. “S-some bat pony j-just grabbed Heart Beat and flew away with her!” she exclaimed.

Dusk Dancer took off immediately, but then Hoity Toity bumped into her, knocking her down. “Going to meet your partner?” he asked.

“I wanted to save her, you idiot!” Dusk Dancer exclaimed, kicking him in the face unceremoniously. She took off and flew through the door. In the garden, Black Marble, Lyra, and even Minuette were trying to stop the escaping bat pony with their magic. Several other ponies were running around, trying to calm down their screaming foals.

Dusk Dancer dodged Minuette’s magic beam and flew behind another bat pony, who was flying a bit erratically as Heart Beat kept thrashing. Dusk Dancer flapped her wings as fast as she could, but the foalnapper was too far.

Suddenly, another dark grey pony dived from the nearby cloud, tackling the foalnapper. Dusk Dancer screamed, seeing the filly slipping from their grasp. However, before she hit the ground, an orange pegasus caught her.

Dusk Dancer rushed to the pegasus, whom she recognised as Scootaloo. Heart Beat was trembling in her hooves, staring at the ground below.

“I got her,” Scootaloo said. “We’d better bring her home...”

“H-how?” Dusk Dancer asked, staring at the roof of the nearby building. Schwalbe pushed the foalnapper at it and punched her a few times.

“We got a tip-off,” Scootaloo replied. “Hey, Schwalbe! I want her to still be able to talk!”

“Don’t worry,” Schwalbe muttered, pinning the unconscious, green-maned bat pony to the roof.

Dusk Dancer took Heart Beat from Scootaloo. “I’d better go back there,” she muttered. “I think I broke Hoity Toity’s jaw...”

“Way to go...” Scootaloo nodded. “We’ll join you later. Tell them that no one can leave the house.”

“Sure,” Dusk Dancer replied and flew away.

Scootaloo joined Schwalbe at the roof. Their prisoner was slowly getting back to consciousness. She didn’t look like a foalnapper – she was only a bit older than Scootaloo and looked pretty nice, despite her lankiness and a black eye.

Schwalbe shook her brutally. “Who are you?” she asked. “You don’t talk – I’ll cut your wings to shreds and throw you on the pavement, like your friend did to Moonwing...”

“Please, no!” the mare exclaimed, crying. “I... I had to do that...”

“Why?” Scootaloo asked.

“Th-they already killed one of my daughters...” the mare replied, shuddering. “And they said that they’ll kill Stellar too...”