22 - Repairs
Chapter 22
Repairs
“I don’t care what the major says. This isn’t right.”
“Don’t let them hear you man. You didn’t see what they did to Sonar.”
“But we’re hurting our own people!”
“S-Shut up the Major’s coming!”
“No! Fuck the Major! I’m not doing this!”
3372 E.C. – Unrest worsens. NSR responds with harsher crackdowns.
There is something to be said about a mare on a mission. In a rare moment of temperate lucidity, Junkyard once gave me advice that I took to heart. Don’t fuck with 'em.
“WHERE IS HE?!” The door to the police headquarters exploded as Jess charged into the office with all the grace of a rampaging bull. The office workers ducked beneath desks and scrambled for weapons as the heaving mare burst into the room with hellfire and brimstone following on her wings. The panic was followed by recognition, and then irritation. Several officers rolled their eyes and went back to work, while others continued watching her warily, including the front desk receptionist who had the unfortunate honor of being conveniently next to the front entrance.
“Uh, c-can I help you Lieutenant?” The receptionist stuttered, adjusting her glasses which had been thrown askew by Jess’ surprise entry. The poor pony looked like she would rather be anywhere else at the moment. Personally, I couldn't blame her.
Jess’ head rotated on her neck as she processed what had been said, her laser vision zeroing in on the receptionist and causing the poor mare to wilt under her icy glare. “Where. Is. Slide?” Jess growled.
The receptionist swallowed, leaning back and putting as much distance between herself and Jess as possible. “L-Lieutenant Windshear is off on assignment at the m-moment, ma’am,” the receptionist said, a bead of sweat sliding down her temple. Jess made a guttural noise not unlike a diamond dog.
The receptionist jumped. “U-uh I-I can um… leave him a message, if you w-want?”
I could hear Jess’ teeth grind. The receptionist paled. Idly I was thankful I wasn’t on the receiving end of whatever look Jess was giving her. Before Jess could respond, the door to one of the offices slammed open.
“WHO THE HELL IS MAKING NOISE IN MY-” The police chief bellowed as he emerged from his office. The storm gray buck took one glance at where Jess stood and stopped, his eyes drooping with weariness at the sight of her. “-office,” he finished lamely. “What is it this time, Jess?”
“Good morning, Chief,” Jess replied, meeting the chief's irritated glare with her own wrathful demeanor. “You’re just the pony I need to talk to.”
The chief's permanent frown deepened, age old wrinkles crinkling on his brow as he raised a hoof to his face. “Why do I have the feeling I’m not going to like this,” he groaned.
Jess gave him a predatory smile.
The Chief scowled. “My office. Now,” he grunted. A moment later he blinked, finally noticing that she hadn't come alone. As an afterthought, he pointed to me and added, “You, siddown and wait. This is official business and I don’t need some stupid civvie snooping around in it.” He didn't wait for my response. The chief charged back into his office, and Jess followed, storming over in her own manner to the Chief's office, and slamming the door behind her.
“Okay then,” I replied to the air. I didn't want to be in that conversation anyway. If Jess was right, I would be entering the Chief's office soon enough, if only to give him my take on our little adventure on Cirrus. Irritated, I took one of the waiting chairs by the receptionist desk and dutifully waited for whatever they wanted to do with me.
Silence fell over the office as the dust settled, the ponies in the office cautiously resuming their duties. The receptionist passed me an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry about the Chief, dear, he can be a bit…” the mare trailed off as she searched for the right word, “...direct.”
That was one way of putting it. I returned her smile with one of my own and shrugged. "Believe me when I say I'm used to it,” I replied. Given another hundred pounds and a dye job, the chief could have easily passed for Junkyard.
The receptionist stifled a giggle. “Yes, well, when it comes to the Lieutenant, I suppose you’re used to that kind of behavior. She seems to have taken a liking to you, at least.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Say again?”
The receptionist backpedaled, “W-well, I mean, it’s been a long time since I’ve seen her really work with anypony, not sin-”. The rest of her sentence died. Coming from the Chief’s office was a sound not unlike a volcano erupting, the whole building damn near shaking from the force.
“WHAT?!”
Productivity came to a screeching halt.
“Oh, dear.” The receptionist said.
*****
An hour into the shouting match, I almost regretted leaving everyone else with the Scrap Bandit. It was nostalgic in a way, and amusing to think that this was probably what other ponies saw whenever Junkyard and I had gotten into our own little altercations. To think that I had put up with it every day for years was either a testament to my perseverance or my stupidity. Every pony in the room flinched whenever the building would shake from the slam of hooves against desk, or the the heated argument taking place behind closed doors reached new levels of intensity. Still, even as the ponies in the office became more and more nervous, I got the sense that this wasn’t the first time something like this had happened, and it definitely would not be the last. If anything, the shouting match made the other ponies work harder. Pens scribbled furiously as if to make a point that their owners were working hard. Even the receptionist seemed to double down on her work.
The mood only seemed to worsen when the door to the office suddenly opened. Jess poked her head out and called out in a voice that had been clearly strained. “Horizon? Come here, the boss wants you.”
Any amusement I might have had melted away as my sentence was pronounced. The receptionist passed me a pitiful look, and mouthed something like ‘good luck’ as I dutifully got to my hooves and made my way into ground zero. Jess stood aside so that I could enter the office, and then followed in after me, closing the door behind her.
It was the same stark office I remembered, the last time I had stood here. The Chief sat in his chair, grumpily regarding me with bored eyes and demeanor that vividly reminded me of Junkyard. The smell of coffee hung in the air, drifting over from a pot on a cabinet near his desk, mixed with the snuffed cigar sitting in the ashtray of his desk blotter. The photographs of the tired mare and the white filly were still there on his desk and I spared a quick glance between them and the mare standing next to me, connecting dots.
“Sit,” The Chief ordered. There was no emotion to his tone, nor room for argument. Lacking a chair, I sat on the floor, my nose idly twitching at the smell of the cigar sitting on his blotter.
The chief sighed. The storm gray buck looked like he had just ran a marathon, though I supposed that was more of an occupational hazard than anything else.
“I’ve heard a lot about you over the past few weeks,” the Chief said, “and I know this isn’t the first time you’ve sat in my office, either. Mr Seldat, right?”
I nodded, wisely choosing to keep my mouth shut.
The Chief nodded as if considering something, and then swept up the unlit cigar with his WAND and placed it in his mouth, idly chewing on the end instead of lighting it. “Yes, I remember you now. You were a murder trial, not even three weeks ago,” he nodded again. “You’re that buck who put one of ours in the hospital while attempting to escape the station.”
I swallowed. Technically I had been cleared of that, on account that I had covered the medical bills.
The chief continued, “Since then you’ve aided with the elimination of a known criminal, apparently rescued a foreign dignitary, and aided in the return of stolen military hardware in addition the capture of the pony responsible. You’ve been busy.”
“Just doing what any citizen would, sir.” I replied, doing my best not to make any stupid remarks.
The chief slammed his hoof against his desk, making me jump. “Don’t bullshit me, boy, I don’t have the time for posturing,” he sternly replied.
I kept my mouth shut.
The Chief sat a little straighter in his chair, leaning forward on the desk while he fixed me with what I assumed was his natural glare.
“Now, I am going to ignore the fact that you destroyed a piece of military hardware on the account that you did so at the behest of an agent of the PBJ. I am further willing to ignore that you illegally piloted another piece of said military hardware within protected airspace for the same reason. What you will tell me in return, are the exact circumstances that led to the capture of our little ship thief, and everything you saw and heard. Are we clear?”
I nodded. “Crystal, sir.”
“Good,” The chief said. Pulling out a small recorder with his WAND, he placed it on the desk between us with a small thump and slid it over in my direction with his hoof. The Chief then fixed me with a no-nonsense stare and said, “Start talking.”
So I did.
*****
My testimony lasted for the better part of a half-hour. During my description of events the Chief stopped me several times to clarify my actions at several points, specially noting around the time when the thief made his initial escape from us, and the events that followed. He made a look I couldn't read at Jess when I reached the part where we took the other bikes to pursue him but said nothing. Eventually, when I had finished answering his questions, he stopped the recording and instructed me to wait in the lobby.
Ten minutes later found me back in my chair near the reception desk. In the absence of a great deal of shouting, the tension in the room had slackened, if only just a little. All of the office employees were still on edge, including the occasional adventurous officer who wandered off toward the coffee pot. What followed was boredom. Jess continued talking and arguing with the Chief, the volume of their conversation rising and falling in spurts, and I sat watching one of the antique fans spin on the ceiling above the reception desk. It wasn’t long before my attention wandered. Waiting sucked. Granted I was no stranger to it--no pilot in the PC was--but no matter how numb I had become to it, it was still great at sucking the joy out of life. Until Jess' boss cleared me to go, I was stuck. I sighed wearily as I slouched in my seat and waited, and waited, and waited, until I finally got bored enough to talk to the only other person willing to really listen to me.
Hey Tex, you there?
Tex had been surprisingly quiet ever since we had left Cirrus. I wasn’t sure if I was eager to learn why, but seeing as I really had nothing better to do at the moment.
Mmmyeah? Came the AI’s delayed response. She sounded distracted, in the same way you might talk to somepony who was busy reading. Big surprise there.
You’ve been pretty quiet recently, is something up?
The filly made a noncommittal noise that felt like it reverberated in my head, soundless, yet audible as clear as day.
Not really, I’ve… just been reading, and thinking, and writing, and reading, working on your replacement programs… that sort of thing.
I smirked. But mostly reading, I thought at her.
But mostly reading. She confirmed with a contented sigh.
At least you sound like you're enjoying yourself. Reading what, exactly?
Oh you know, history, advances in science, that sort of thing. Oh, and fiction. Lots of fiction. She paused. Mostly fiction. It’s really amazing just how much volume a galaxy’s worth of authors can put out in a thousand years.
Internally, I was grateful my WAND wasn't a lease. I could only imagine what that data bill would have looked like. That did bring up an interesting question, though.
How long would it take you to burn through the entire galactic archives? I mean, with your speed I would figure you could probably process most of it instantly. I would think you would be able to get through most of it within a few days, and I know you've had more than a few opportunities. I thought with a frown.
Well, yes, I suppose that is true, I can process most of the information in a book within microseconds, but, really, what’s a good book if you’re not willing to take it slow? Tex replied. You can’t really enjoy a book if you’re just skimming all the time.
So aside from reading, what else are you doing? Besides occasionally kicking one of my brain cells.
A distant part of me wondered if I would have brain damage in my old age.
A sigh. Thinking. I guess. I mean it’s really the only thing I have left to do, really. I finished those replacement programs a while ago, so I’ve just been spinning my cycles in the meantime. You don’t seem to like being bothered by me either, so, really I’ve just been trying to keep to myself.
I winced. Most of what I’d said to her was a little on the rude side. Maybe I was tapping a little too much into my older self. OR my boss. I shuddered. Then again, should I really be this concerned about the feelings of an A.I.? Did she even have feelings?
Sounds lonely, I thought, mentally kicking myself.
There was a pause. A long pause.
Yes. It is, Tex finally replied.
Sorry, I said.
A look from the receptionist told me that I had spoken aloud. She held my gaze a moment with a skeptical eye while I felt my cheeks redden. With a slight shake of her head, she returned to her work.
Sorry? for what? Tex asked.
For being short with you. I know I’m not the nicest pony, and I haven’t exactly been the greatest conversationalist either, I thought.
Well, no one’s perfect, but thank you. Tex said. Really, it’s just nice to be able to talk to ponies again. You have no idea what it's like to be stuck in a starship for eight hundred years. And as far as conversation goes, I've talked to worse.
I took the jab for what it was. She wasn't wrong. Probably. Hopefully. Muffled conversation floated out from the Chief’s office, sounding very much like Jess and the Chief were wrapping up her conversation.
Sounds like they’re almost done in there. I thought.
Yeah. I don't have access to any of the listening devices in here, but I estimate that they have about three minutes left in their conversation. Tex replied. Give or take a few seconds.
I blinked. This room is wired? I thought.
The whole building, actually. I can see some of their access nodes on the network, barely, anyway, they're concealed pretty well. They're in every room except the office you were just in.
Security measure? Or something else? I thought idly. I shelved the thought for later.
A moment passed in quiet contemplation as I stared at the door to the Chief’s office. My mind wandered away to math, and a particularly boggling thing about Tex that had me questioning my sanity. Tex, can I ask you a question?
You are perfectly capable of asking a question. May you? Well I suppose I could at least listen, Tex replied.
Yeah, okay smartass, way to kill the mood. I thought with a groan. The noise caught the attention of the receptionist who spared another glance in my direction before silently returning to her work. Why do you love books so much? I mean, you’ve obviously gone to town with my library access if the feeds I keep getting are any indication. They probably think I’m one of the most well-read ponies on the station by now, or a stupid troll, more likely.
Well, They’re books! I mean, what’s not to love? They’re full of the passion of their authors with differing viewpoints that evolved over centuries. I mean, entire archives could probably be written on the equilogical studies of the continued evolution of pony society! You can tell so much about a society and its struggles based on its art and literature. Social values, behavior, everything, really. Plus the stories are nice too, even if it’s the same seven stories over and over again. Fresh perspectives make them interesting, especially when you compare them to what the authors were living through at the time.
I was struggling to keep up. I still managed, somehow. Alright, but how can you remember it all? Even with the storage I bought for you I don’t think it could hold the entirety of the public library system. Where does it all go? How can you even remember who you are with all that data?
I…well… The sound of Tex’s voice trailed off. It’s all…fuzzy, to be honest. I mean, I know it’s out there, and I whenever I do remember something I can usually find the rest of it, but I can't exactly pinpoint it in my memory. It’s like trying to find a pointer to something that lost its target. It’s there, and I know it’s there, but until I can get the pointer focused back in the right place, I can’t find it. It’s like there's this big wall sitting between where I am and what I’m looking for and it’s just…just so frustrating!
Tex raged. She made a noise not out of place on a nature documentary, before finally settling back down.
I’m sorry, this whole thing has gotten me a little hot under the collar, to quote an old Diamond Dog saying. But to answer your question, I don’t know how I remember it all, I just do and sometimes I don’t. I don’t know how it works, and that’s what I find most frustrating of all. Part of me wishes I could just, I dunno, dissect myself and study what makes me tick, but I can’t exactly work that way, and what if I screw up? I’m literally the only pony capable of pulling myself back together. I don’t want to hurt myself by accidentally changing the wrong thing. I’ve already lost so much thanks to the virus, the thought of losing more is… terrifying. I don’t want to lose anything else. I don’t want to become... less.
I grimaced. That got dark in a hurry. I’m sorry if I brought up some bad memories, er, so to speak.
No, no. It’s not that, I mean, it’s like… She trailed off as she searched for an analogy. It's like being mortal. What am I but memories? Do machines have souls? Or constructs? Or whatever I am? Is my data even mine? I am a collection of recorded experiences; if I forget everything, isn’t that the same as dying?
I don’t know how to answer you to be honest, I admitted. I’m not exactly equipped for this kind of conversation. I think I do get the gist of what you’re saying, though. You’re afraid of dying.
No, Tex replied. The virus hasn’t touched any of my critical systems, just my data. If it it finishes... I’m not afraid of dying, Horizon, I’m afraid of what would happen if I survived.
I swallowed at that. Didn’t you say you had a backup somewhere, though? Couldn't you restore the data?
Tex was silent.
Tex?
It’s gone. She said quietly.
...what?
When you let me use your credentials, I went looking for my databases. They’re all gone. Every last one is gone. I’m… I’m all that’s left of me.
My mouth worked for a moment as I tried to process. The effort was ultimately futile. A moment later, the door to the office opened and I looked up from the floor in time to see Jess poke her head out and spot me on the bench.
“Horizon? I need you over here again, the boss wants to talk with you again.” Nodding, I got back to my hooves.
We’re gonna talk about this later, okay Tex?
Yeah, sure… She replied.
*****
The chief was not in a good mood. That was fine. After what I had just learned, a grumpy pony was just what I needed to get my mind off things.
“Sit,” he said. His voice devoid of emotion. I figured he must have spent it all arguing with Jess. I did as asked.
The chief nodded, seemingly satisfied. “Alright then,” the chief said, adjusting his seat. His elbows hit the desk as he leaned forward, concealing his mouth behind his hooves and giving me the greatest look of stern contemplation I had ever seen.
Wisely, I kept my mouth shut.
“You,” The chief began, addressing me in a stern monotone. “As far as I’m concerned, you are a menace.” He said. “Wherever you go, I end up neck deep in paperwork, and get even more migraines. I dare say it would be stupid of me to let you wander around, given your propensity for leaving everything you step on in pieces.” The chief sighed, leaned back, and smirked. “Fortunately for you, I don’t always make smart decisions.”
“You have single-hoofedly given me the means to get rid of one of the worst thorns in my side for the last ten years. And while you are certainly a nuisance when it comes to generating paperwork, you also seem to have a knack for getting results. Your work with my lieutenant seems evidence enough for that, even despite setbacks. Which is why I am offering you this.”
The chief swayed in his seat, leaning over the side of his chair while pulling out a tablet from a desk drawer and dropping it on the desk’s surface. He turned it with a hoof and slid it in my direction so the text was facing me. “I am offering you a position as an independent contractor of the Bureau of Justice.”
I looked at the tablet, and the lengthy wall of legalese that was on it.
The chief cleared his throat, if only to regain my attention. “Make no mistake. I’m not doing this as a gesture of goodwill. Having you as a contractor means you will be legally authorized to work alongside other authorities and be subject to the same rules of conduct that they are. In return, you will be legally under my authority as chief of police and you will report to me. I am giving you this so that I can keep my eye on you. Something, I fear, that will inevitably give me even more migraines in the future, but is necessary for the public good." He leaned forward in his chair and glared. "You will accept this contract.”
“What if I don’t?” I dared to ask.
The chief smiled predatorily. “Then I can remember all of the damage you’ve caused in the few weeks since your release, and find some other reason to put you back in that lovely cell you occupied a few weeks back.”
The chief put a stylus next to the tablet, and waited. Levitating it with my WAND, I signed.
“Good,” the Chief said, “now I can tell you the rest of it. Jess, close the door.”
He knew about the listening devices, I realized.
“Rest of it? Uh, sir?” I said as Jess secured the door. My new boss waited for Jess to finish before replying.
“Yes. The rest of it.” He said with a heavy sigh. His voice dropped a few decibels, far below what I figured could be heard from outside. “First of all, there’s the issue of Officer Windshear.”
He turned to Jess, “I have just been informed by the interrogation team that the pony you two brought in gave testimony that confirms the one your report. Officer Windshear did, in fact, release classified military override codes to a third party, and possibly more. All of the codes will now need to be changed because of this breach and in doing this he has committed treason against the state. As such, I am placing an APB on him.” He looked Jess squarely in the eye, “What he has done has betrayed the trust of every officer in the State. If you find him, take him out.”
Jess smiled with a smile I hoped I would never see again. “With pleasure, sir,” she replied.
“Now for you,” he said, turning his attention to me. It was hard not to stand a little straighter. “You are aware of details of your case, are you not?”
I nodded uncertainly, “Vividly.”
“Good, because what I am about to tell you isn’t going to leave this room.” The chief said. “Your case has been sealed.”
“What?!” Jess nearly yelled. The outburst earned her a warning glance from the chief.
“I said about the same thing, actually. Your friend the defense lawyer was equally livid.” The chief said.
I was about to voice an objection when he raised a hoof to stop me. “I know. Just shut up and listen."
The chief leaned back in his seat, retrieving the cigar from his desk and placed it back in his mouth. “I’ve seen the evidence that Mr. Chance has been compiling from various cases. I’ve seen the connections he’s been making and all of the progress with it. So call it no surprise that I know a cover-up when I see one. An independent team was sent to recover his files. They confiscated everything in an unsanctioned raid and told Mr. Chance in no uncertain terms to abandon his research and all contact with his informants.”
Cold fury burned in my veins. “What the fuck…”
“I didn’t order it,” the Chief said. “The team that destroyed the evidence was not under my supervision. If it were up to me, I would have gelded every last one of them.” His expression soured. “As far as I know, the order came from high above my pay grade. And as such, my hooves are tied.”
“This isn’t getting better.” I commented. The chief smiled.
The Chief pointed at Jess. “You are still on suspension,” the chief said. “Obviously you were never here for me to tell you that you should not be involved in a matter that you are clearly out-of-date on. You’re still free to operate of course, but until I reactivate your status, I don’t really have any reason to keep tabs on you.”
He then pointed at me. “And you, you’re just a contractor. All you’re authorized to do is assist an officer of the PBJ in whatever way they deem necessary to complete their job. It is not your job to question their motives or whether or not they are still an active member of the PBJ. Anything you do will be at the behest of whoever you may be assisting at the time. You will, of course, report to me all of your progress so that I may be appropriately frustrated with your actions.”
The chief cleared his throat, genuinely smiling for the first time I’d ever seen. The look on him was both unique and terrifying. “You will not get further involved in this case, you will not deliver to me any evidence that may assist in the exposure of any would be conspirators, and you will not give me plausible deniability for your actions. Am I clear?”
“Crystal,” I said.
“Good,” The chief said, his demeanor slipping back into his usual grumpy self. “Welcome to the PBJ. Get out.”
*****
When we left the police headquarters, Jess excused herself for a moment, saying that she had forgotten something. She left me standing on the curb outside of the building while I waited for the cab that would eventually take us back to the docks, and from there, the ship. Not that I could really take it anywhere at this point. We were within Pegasus sovereign territory, and with my license suspended, the Scrap Bandit wouldn’t be getting out of port any time soon. As far as I was concerned, the Bandit had just become my crappier apartment. Either that, or I’d be blowing all of Junkyard’s money on hotels while I tried to find a pilot stupid enough to fly the ‘legendary’ Scrap Bandit.
The thought of hotels reminded me that I still needed to update everyone else on what had just happened, and tell Fritter the bad news. Granted, I would have bet bits that Fritter already knew, but I still needed to talk to him. I also needed to talk to him about Tick.
The door to the police headquarters opened and Jess strode back out into the artificial sunlight.
“Got it! Sorry about the wait.”
“Got what?” I asked.
Jess flashed me a mischevious smile, “It’s a secret. You don’t mind if we take a detour for a bit, do you? I want to surprise a pony.”
I thought for a moment. We were on L6-C. There was really only one pony I could think of on the short list of friends we shared. “Prism?”
“Prism,” Jess said with a nod.
Just then, I remembered a question I had kicking around the back of mind. “By the way, Jess?”
“What’s up?” she replied.
“I couldn’t help but notice a certain photograph on the police chief’s desk… is he your…”
Jess groaned. “No! Oh, gods no. Well, sorta,” she shook her head. “He’s not my father, if that’s what you’re thinking.”
I arched an eyebrow. “Are you sure? That filly looked an awful lot like-”
“Godfather,” Jess sighed, “he’s my godfather. It’s a long story.”
I watched as the cab descended to the curb. “It’s a long car ride,” I replied.
Jess rolled her eyes. “Ugh, fine, just get in.”
I pulled open the door for for. We mounted up and got comfortable in the back seat while Jess gave the cab directions for DJ’s. In moments we were up and away, comfortably entering the press of mid-afternoon traffic.
“Alright, spill.” I said, lounging in my corner of the back seat and flashing her an expectant smile.
“I’m adopted,” Jess said. “There, happy?”
“That’s not a very long story,” I commented with a shit eating grin.
“Some day I am going to murder you.” Jess muttered, shaking her head while shifting around to get more comfortable.
“Just wait till you know me for more than six weeks,” I said.
“I can already see why you were Prism’s favorite punching bag,” Jess remarked.
“I still have the bruises, I think,” I said. “You were saying?”
Jess rolled her eyes. “The chief is my godfather. He agreed to adopt me when my dad... yeah.”
My smile fell. “I’m… sorry, I didn’t realize.”
Jess shook her head, “No, it’s not your fault. It’s not exactly something I broadcast to the whole world. Well, Prism knows, but that’s about it.”
“May I ask what happened?” I asked.
“Sure,” Jess sighed, “Dad… well. I lost Dad about twenty years ago. He was working undercover in the cartels, trying to gather enough evidence to nail the ponies making crash for the stations near the border. He spent months out in Celestia knew where, while he built up his rep with the Stormclouds. The chief and my dad had a good relationship at the time, and while the chief knew of his dispatch, no one else on the force did. He was so good at hiding it, that they thought he’d gone traitor.”
“That sounds like it wouldn’t go over well.” I replied
“There’s an understatement,” Jess muttered. “His reputation got around, and because he was so maligned the cartels caught wind of it.”
“Oh dear.”
“Oh, yeah. But thankfully they got greedy,” Jess smiled wistfully, “Dad led them on with the act, but since they knew of his connections, they started forcing him to get stuff for them from the PBJ to prove his loyalty.”
“I’m surprised they didn’t just shoot him,” I said.
“They had plenty of opportunities, that’s for sure. But the shipments of weapons he was able to get for them placated them enough to get stupid.” Jess replied. “The chief okayed it, if only to keep up the act. It wasn’t until the raid when everything went to hell.”
Jess mellowed, and took a breath. “Three different precincts raided a major Stormcloud safehouse during one of the deals my Dad had to make. None of them knew he was undercover.” Jess exhaled. “Dad never stood a chance.”
“Dad went down on my twelfth birthday. Because he was always away, Mom had left him for some rich doctor in the pearl district, and I was stuck at home. I moved around with Dad on his assignments, but I wasn’t in the dark about what he did. I wasn’t a stupid filly. I knew his job was dangerous, and when the Chief came by to tell me what happened,” Jess sniffed. “Oh, goddesses, I don’t know if I could tell you how much I cried that day.”
I looked out the window at the passing traffic, “Believe me when I say I could probably guess.”
Jess looked up, “You too, huh?”
“I lost my mother when I was young. I’d rather leave it at that. The details are… a little fuzzy. I said, and then changing the subject, I asked, “So the Chief adopted you?”
Jess nodded. “Yup. The chief and Dad were good friends in the years before the raids, and he and his wife couldn’t conceive, so I suppose it all worked out in the end. If you ask me, though, I think he felt guilty about what happened to Dad. I still get a lot of shit for that.
“So, years later, here I am," Jess said. "Proud officer of the PBJ with a cushy job and a decent paycheck. Of course being related to the chief helped with that. All I have to do is keep my nose clean and keep setting a sterling example for the others to follow. Not that they care past their jibes.”
“The ponies in the office didn’t seem all that bad,” I said.
Jess laughed, “Well the office is usually quiet, it’s just when the other headhunters get involved that I really start getting shit-on. Slide was usually the worst about it. At least now I have something to nail him for. Wherever he is.” Jess frowned, “I am so going to get that fucker.”
And I believed her. "So on a scale of one to ten, how fucked is Slide?" I asked.
Jess smiled and flicked her tail, "Forty. APB's like this one usually have a bounty attached. Every single officer in the PBJ is going to be on the lookout for him and all the independents, too, depending on how much it's worth. And for something like this, it's gonna be a lot of bits. Once the details get out, Slide's done, one way or another. It's just a matter of time before somepony shoots him or hauls his ass in."
Jess sat back, glanced out the window and then looked back at me with a conspiratory smirk. “Alright, bucko, you’ve heard my sad backstory, how about yours? What muck did you land in to make you the great and powerful garbagemare?”
It was hard not to groan. I suppose I earned that one, I did drive a glorified garbage truck after all.
“Not much to tell. I did things in my youth that I’m not comfortable discussing with a police officer,” I said.
“I was wanted for six counts of arson,” Jess replied.
I blinked, “really?”
She shrugged, “Okay, five. I was a troubled youth after Dad passed. And that time with the lighter really doesn’t count.” She waved it off, “continue.”
Welp, might as well get it over with. I rolled my eyes, before calling up my various ghosts. “I’m a fader. My mom died when I was eight. Dad left when I was old enough to get a job. That’s it,” I said.
“Bullshit. How did your Mom die?” Jess replied.
“I don’t know,” I said. “I was eight,” I snorted, “and stupid.”
Jess shook her head, “Okay then, sob story, what about your dad?”
“He joined the military and left,” I said. “I spent a few years picking up the pieces of my dreams in his wake. I sold drugs to pay rent, at my lowest.”
Jess grimaced, “So which cartel did your fixer work for?”
I shook my head, “None of em. He was some small time jock who ended up dead in some alleyway one night. I was just the delivery colt. I saw it on the news and started looking for new jobs. Not that they were plentiful. I met Junkyard shortly afterward. That was… a trip.”
“What was your dad’s name?” Jess asked.
I had to stretch for that one. It’d been so long I had to remember. “Winterfrost,” I finally replied. “Winterfrost Seldat, although his friends just called him Frost. He was… different.”
“Different how?” Jess asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Let’s just say that my mom had a taste for the exotic and leave it at that. Not that it mattered much, the only thing I got from dad was his eye color. Recessive genes and all that.”
Jess shrugged, “Okay, what about your Mom? Do you remember what she was like?” Jess asked.
I smiled, “Vaguely. She was a pegasus, sorta like dad. Fader, I learned later. She beat the odds. Dad loved her, I think.”
“What was her name?” Jess asked.
Mom’s name was at least something I could remember easily. It was hard to forget that newspaper clipping. “Sunrise,” I said solemnly, “Sunrise Andante Seldat.”
The cab slowed as we reached our destination. I shook my head, “Enough of my sap. We’re here. Shall we give Prism a pleasant surprise?”
“Of course!” Jess said, smiling.
*****
In the heat of the moment, I failed to remember something fairly important. Namely, Prism hated surprises, and when it came to fight or flight reflexes, she fell squarely in to the first category. Prism didn't apologize for the black eye she gave me, but she was at least kind enough to grab a makeshift icepack from the back, which I gently applied to my face with a hoof.
The three of us sat at a table inside DJ’s, picking at our late lunches while sharing a variety of melty shakes and cocktails that were more water than alcohol. I didn’t mind, really, I was just happy to be eating something. The food distracted me from my throbbing face, anyway.
“I can’t believe you guys are here right now! Last I heard you were off on Cirrus!” The red pegasus squealed. “I mean Cirrus of all places! I’ve always wanted to go there!”
“I dunno, a mare like you might have trouble staying airborne,” I joked. Fortunately, my reflexes were good enough to dodge the glass that followed. I caught it with my WAND before I had to pay for it.
“Jackass,” Prism jeered, “but seriously, spill! What was it like?”
Jess looked at me, “Well? Mr hoof-in-mouth? Tell our sweet, fiery pegasus what the Golden wonders of Cirrus are like.”
“Wet,” I replied.
Prism stared. “Really? Your first time going planetside, and all you have to say is that it's wet."
“He took a shortcut through a class four while we were chasing down our target,” Jess explained with a laugh.
Prism groaned, "Oh my god, Horizon, were you born stupid?"
"Probably," I replied.
"Oh, I don't know about that. You should have seen the shot he made when we finally bagged our thief," Jess said. "Port hit, right on his compensator. I don't think I've ever seen a pony spin so fast."
I shook my head, "I can't really take credit for that one, Tex did most of the work, all I had to do was line up a dot."
Aww, thank you! Tex said.
Jess shrugged, "It was still a good shot. If you're stupid, then you must be a savant."
"It would explain a lot, that's for sure," Prism said. "So what brings you guys here?"
Jess sighed, setting her drink down and leaning back in her seat. “Business, mostly. I had to get a few things sorted on the station, and a little revenge to boot.”
“Don’t tell me, Slide?” Prism asked.
Jess nodded, “got it in one," she replied.
“Ugh, what did that dickbag do this time?” Prism said.
“Classified,” Jess said with a smirk.
“Ooh, scandalous! I hope you get him,” Prism said.
“Oh, I do too, believe me.” Jess replied. "And if not me, then somepony else. I doubt there's anypony more fucked in the galaxy than he is right now."
“What about you, Horizon? From the way things have been going the two of you seem to be working together pretty often,” Prism said taking a sip from her shake.
“Not by choice,” I replied. “She just keeps dragging me off to the next job. If you could call them that.”
“Keep that up and I’ll finish turning you into a raccoon,” Jess added dryly. Prism snickered.
I shrugged. “Still, it’s less boring than scrapping satellites all day so who am I to complain? The pay is better too,” I added.
At the mention of money, Prism sighed. “Well at least some of us are making bits,” she said with a shake of her head. Remembering something, she brightened. “Actually!” Prism said, leaning forward with a conspiratorial grin before continuing in hushed tones. “There’s a chance I might be getting my old job back at the tower!”
“Really?” Jess said, sitting straight up in her seat.
Prism nodded twice her smile beaming. “Yeah! I got a call from my old boss about it. Apparently the new gal didn’t quite work out. So he wants me back!”
I smiled. Finally, something in our lives was going right.
*****
The conversation lasted for the better part of an hour, although most of it was lost on me. Mare talk, general catching up, some other stuff I didn't understand, I spent most of the conversation drinking my cocktail and feigning interest while feeling more and more like a third wheel. Thankfully, I had a distraction. Tex had gotten bored, and started a rant about how poor the local security had gotten, making a demonstration of a nearby speaker that probably gave several patrons heart attacks. I had a good laugh about it, which, of course, drew confused looks from both Jess and Prism and led to yet another awkward explanation that, no, I wasn't going crazy. Well, maybe just a little.
As our get together dragged on, I decided to change the topic.
“So, are you gonna give her that thing?” I asked Jess.
Both mares looked at me quizzically. “What thing?” They said in unison.
“That thing you grabbed from the office before we got our cab,” I said.
Jess brightened. “Oh! That! I almost forgot! Actually, that was for you.”
I blinked twice while Jess rustled around in her pack for it. “For me?” I said.
“For him?!” Prism said incredulously.
“Relax, girl, I got you some souvenirs from Cirrus too,” Jess replied
“Yessss!” Prism cheered, pumping a hoof.
“Okay Horizon,” Jess announced, pulling out a tablet and setting it on the table in front of me. “I’m a mare of my word, although you wouldn’t believe how many strings I had to pull for this one.”
I glanced over the first few lines, and dropped my drink with a loud crash.
Horizon Seldat: Pilot License 719A34
Status: Active
I had my license back. I had my license back! I picked up the pad with two hooves and stared, not daring to touch it with my WAND’s magic. Fervently, I poured over the rest of the tablet’s contents, and rapidly verified that, yes, it was, in fact, real.
“I had a nice long chat with the boss about it,” Jess said, reclining in her seat and taking a long sip from her cocktail, “ I figured since you’ve done so much work for the State that you might as well get that little thing back, right? And...I might have convinced the processing office to tack on a little extra or two,” she said with a smirk. “Perks of working in the business.”
It was just that moment that I spotted her little addition. Right underneath the lines detailing my access permissions were a set of magical, magical words.
Docking Queue: Military and Civil Service personnel. Elevated Priority.
I stared in mute wonder at the sentence, my brain struggling to process the depth of what exactly I was reading. I had priority status! Normally it was reserved for ponies who either paid out the nose or worked for the State. Well, technically I did work for the State now, but either way, it meant something wonderful:
I would never, ever see a queue again.
“Oh. my. Celestia! He’s crying!”
******
The rest of our get together went by in a blur. Words were said, stories were had, cocktails were drained. After the euphoria of getting my license back, nothing else really seemed to register. Before I knew it, we were saying our goodbyes on the curb outside. Prism was starting her shift, and I had a few errands to run.
My first stop was by the local real estate office. For all intents and purposes I was done with Junkyard’s office, and I really did not want to pay rent for the entire damn scrapyard. After signing papers for an hour, it was done. Junkyard’s shop officially belonged to the government, and I officially got maybe a tenth of its actual worth. The bits were forwarded to my account.
After that, I went looking for housing for the night. I sent out a ping to everyone else and found them at a hotel in one of the wealthier districts near main hangar and dropped in to explain what had taken me so long. Reactions were mixed, mostly indifferent and we all made plans to head back to Winter's Edge the following morning. I ran out to buy lunch for the crew. We all shared a quick meal and went our separate ways for the night. Business done, I rented a small room and spent the rest of the night admiring the tremendous gift Jess had given me while quietly reminiscing about the old times.
I felt weird sitting in that hotel. L6-C had too many memories, most of them bad. Most ponies spent their whole lives here, living and dying on the streets, working their thankless jobs with no hope of escaping the grind. Sure, ponies could make do. Sure, you could certainly settle for what you could get, but not me. I'd wanted an out for a long time, and I finally had my ticket. With my license back I could go anywhere. I was finally free. I could fly anywhere in the PC or elsewhere. I could go anywhere in the universe that I wanted. I could take any job, I could do anything, and with priority status, I could do it in times that would make most veterans jealous. I had a ship, I had a license, hell, I even had a crew—well, sorta. The point was, I could compete. I could do it. I could actually fly. My terms. My way. In free and open skies. Maybe I could even start up a trading business. I had the capital for it thanks to Junkyard. Granted, it wouldn’t be the most glorious start, but, with time and the right contacts, I was sure I could build it into something, and as far as contacts went, I already had a pony for that.
My possibilities were endless. I couldn’t help but feel giddy at the looming prospect of true freedom while I hugged the small tablet to my chest on the hotel bed. In that moment, despite all the things I'd been through, despite the plots, secrets, and turmoil, everything felt right with the world.
I had trouble sleeping that night, and for once it was for all the right reasons.
******
“So... you’re really going, then?” Prism asked.
The next morning had come, and with it new responsibilities. I had received a message from Fritter asking me to see him, and I had a feeling that I knew why. Junkyard’s killer was still out there, somewhere, and word of the investigation’s status would have doubtlessly reached him long before it had reached me. That, of course, frustrated me to no end, but if it was going to be easy, I wouldn’t have needed to meet these ponies to do it.
I was done with L6-C. I was free to pursue my answers, and I had nothing left to tie me to my old home. I stood with Prism at one of the few observation areas overlooking the priority docks with my flight suit on and my helmet at the ready, while everypony else waited for me on the elevator.
I nodded slowly, giving Prism a smile that felt more genuine than any I could remember. “Yeah. I think I’m done with L6-C for a while. There’s a lot of memories here, but, most of it’s just baggage. I sold Junkyard’s shop.”
Prism laughed. “I was wondering about that. It didn’t make sense to me to dump your old apartment, but keep the office. I was starting to think you were planning on sleeping there.”
“It would be more comfortable,” I said with a grin.
Prism laughed. “Knowing your habits, that really doesn’t surprise me.”
She sighed, her voice becoming progressively more serious, “Well, if I don’t see you again soon, be sure to at least send me a message, okay? You and Jess have been getting into a lot of trouble lately, and the last thing I want to hear is you both got blown up in some accident or something. I don't want to see you two get hurt,” Prism said.
“Are you actually worried about me?” I asked curiously.
“Oh look! The bitch has feelings, big surprise,” Prism said, rolling her eyes, “Yes. Yes I am. I do in fact care about what happens to my friends—especially lately. I’ve been hearing a lot of nasty rumors from some of the patrons at the club. Normally I wouldn’t care, but some of them have been getting downright scary. Just watch your backs, okay?”
I nodded. “I will, thanks Prism,” I said, meaning it. She smiled at the gesture, and then checked her watch.
“Looks like it’s time for me to go; I have the early shift today. Good luck out there!” Prism said.
“Thanks Prism, you too,” I replied.
I walked to the airlock and turned, taking one last glance at Prism while the elevator doors started closing. Locking eyes with her, I gave her a final, sharp salute with my right wing.
I watched as her form disappeared through the closing doors of the elevator, and with a final, resolute bang, she was gone.
---
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7439701 So........This might look similar to a Unicorn ship?
orig13.deviantart.net/a726/f/2008/062/1/f/covenant_capital_ship_by_deelekgolo.png
Or this rather?
images4.wikia.nocookie.net/halo/images/a/aa/Assault_Carrier_2.jpg
I always thought Covenant ships were more "frilly", while the UNSC were "blocky".
7501954 -ish. I kind of envisioned them as looking more like space potatoes. Bulbous, optimized for magic use (circular arrays), but not spherical. If you've played Eve online, think of a mix between the Gallente and Amarrian design schemas. Bring the noses in on those pictures and you'll have something closer. I've got some time off so I'll take a crack at trying to design something and share it on my blog. The results might not be the prettiest, however.
I'm not afraid to admit that I clapped like a fucking idiot while I was reading that part. God that made me giddy.
...
7439701 Huh, didn't I clear that months ago?
Also I wonder what a PBJ police cruiser would look like.
Keep up the quality.
I enjoy the originality of this story so much!
It's great to see an other chapter of this story again after waiting for so long. Well horizon lot in life has certainly improved a lot for him. I can't wait to see the mare hunt for the traitor, this is going to be awesome. I wander if their are digital archaeologist in this story, I do know that they do really exist. I am guessing that Horizon's father was a batpony and was the one how razed him after his mom died; I wander what is the statues of the bat ponies in this story I know they were mentioned ones by Fritter.
7502279 I believe our conversation went something to the tune of 'don't post it just yet because I've got other commissions ahead of this' or something. I do remember that you said to wait a little while. I probably still have the conversation in my inbox if you want proof. XD
7502322 Thanks!
7504681 Nah, no need.
Still, I might try sketching some more ships in my free time.
Ooh, assembly. That stuff is hard, cause most programmers think about flow control backwards. "If x then y else z" becomes "if x jump to y, z(jump to after y), y". Gotta love it!
7509330 Or if you really want to have fun, start getting into nested loops to iterate over multidimensional arrays. Bleh...
7509386
Ick, I had to do that too. Actually ended up easier to just write a few subroutines to do it all. In fact, you could iterate over an n-dimensional array with just one subroutine that keeps calling itself, provided the stack is large enough.
There's a reason we use compilers, after all.
7509478 emphasis on if the stack is large enough. In my class we were explicitly forbidden from using a recursive method. :P, at least for the assignment that use that loop, anyway.
7509690 Dammit now I want to play around in asm. Got a way to do it using a stack size of 2n in my head.
Btw, if you want to play with a weird asm-type programming game check out tis-100 on steam. Definitely helps with those micro-optimizations that makes asm worthwhile at all.
7511936 Since I don't normally get much free time I usually have to divide up chapters into one to three hour segments of writing. What probably happened was I came back later and forgot the original name I used. I've since adopted a character sheet to keep track of names and colors. This one must have slipped my mind.
So...
How long is it going to take them to figure out Junkyard's main co-conspiritor is Horizon's dad?
Kinda caught up on this story over the last few days, and I'm really liking it. I can only imagine that the Fade assassination case is going to force them to cross paths pretty soon, and, boy do I doubt Horizon is going to take it well.
I'm enjoying the ancient and far-reaching conspiracy aspect of the story, too. My gears are grinding upstairs. I love trying to figure out where these kind of things are going to go.
But now I must wait... Perhaps not patiently, but I'm definitely keeping an eye on this one
7534250 With a name like Plotbuster I'm going to have to watch my back. XD
Or start releasing chapters faster... somehow.
Whenever I hear this song, it reminds me if this story.
Silly me, I forgot to fav and like this, such a mistake.
not to worry though, by the looks of the story's erratic chapter release dates, you're probably bound to update soon-ish, you don't appear to be dead.
7831082 Sorry! Working on it!
7831519 Heh, there was never any doubt.
8023702 Correct.
8056215 ... Is responding to 3-year old comment a hobby of yours?
8056475 yes.