Prestige
The Ponyville Jail was a small, nondescript brick building on the edge of town. It contained only a few cells, and mostly handled rowdy drunks or the very rare domestic dispute or case of petty larceny. Serious crimes -the most recent of which was an assault charge way back in ‘89- went straight up to Canterlot. Twilight had walked right past it a dozen times by now without knowing what it was, figuring it might’ve had something to do with the school system.
She stepped into the cellblock just after lunch, having formulated a new round of tactics to try to pry additional information out of Trixie. Instead, she found Steel Shank, Amethyst Star, Aqua Regia, and Rain Chaser all staring at an empty cell.
The scholar briefly closed her eyes and pressed a hoof against the aching spot just underneath her horn. “She didn’t.”
Steel Shank just nodded, mutely, looking like he was either about to beat somepony to death with his bare hooves, or curl up in a dark corner somewhere and cry.
“When-?”
“Just a few minutes ago,” the Night Guard officer said, “Cpl Aqua called us in as soon as she saw.”
Aqua scuffed a hoof against the stone floor, and snorted in frustration. “I musta’ had my eye off her for two seconds…”
“Alarms and perimeter spell?” Twilight asked.
“All still intact,” confirmed Amethyst.
“And it’s not like the guard even so much as slipped her a drink of water or anything overnight…” the scholar began pacing down the length of the hall, then turned around and glared at Rain Chaser. “You didn’t open the door to give her anything, right?”
Chaser flinched backwards as though slapped across the muzzle. “Nay, ma’am. Nothing. Not even a chamber pot.”
"And you made sure you didn't just lock up a duplicate?"
"She felt solid enough when I shoved her in there, and I made sure she could talk!"
“Dammit, Spike was right. I should’ve told you two to verbally warn each other when you were going to blink…” Twilight stepped back over to the cell, squinting against the bright sunlight filtering in through the sole window. It was the size of a single brick, and double-barred; there was a simple pallet bunk bolted to the wall underneath, and the rest of the cell was composed of vertical steel bars running from the stone floor all the way up to a poured concrete ceiling. A cockroach would have trouble finding a place to hide inside it, much less a pony, but then again Trixie Lulamoon was no ordinary pony. “Are you sure she’s actually gone?”
Abruptly, Cpl Aqua drew her crossbow and fired a single bolt into the cell. It struck the back wall with a soft thud and scattered a few reddish flakes of brick onto the bunk underneath. “I can go find a grenade, if you wanna make extra sure.”
“Well it’s not like she’s hiding behind the door, or above the frame or something…” Amethyst mused, “It’s just a bar-steel cage, basically!”
“Even if she were some sort of contortionist, the gaps in the bars are smaller than a pony’s head,” Steel Shank added.
“I’ll take you up on that grenade, actually,” Twilight finally said, “Although… make it a flashbang, not fragmentation. This is still Ponyville property, and we don’t want to damage it.” Aqua turned to leave, and then the scholar held up a hoof. “On second thought…” She summoned the silvery cone of a powerful disjunction spell, and panned it over the cell’s interior.
The cell remained empty.
Then she fired off her favored flare spell, intense enough that Rain Chaser briefly flinched backwards as the cheap straw mattress began to smolder. She followed it up with a conical compression-distortion wave that shook loose mortar from the brickwork.
Nothing.
Twilight squeezed her eyes shut again, and slammed a hoof against the bars. As if on cue, the cell door swung open, followed by the ear-piercing shriek of the alarms. She barely noticed the rolled-up wad of clay drop out of the keyhole, but when it hit the cell floor, the entire jailhouse filled with thick purple smoke. Even though she knew Trixie couldn’t possibly be watching, she refused to give the showmare the pleasure of seeing her react. “I don’t get it. I don’t get it…”
While apparently corporal punishment was considered inappropriate in this enlightened Eleventh Century, Lancepesade Smokey Mirror knew very well what it felt like to be led up for a public whipping. The fact that it was to happen in an office in the Town Hall instead of in the square outside was largely irrelevant.
He grit his teeth and stepped through the front doors.
Filthy Rich was standing in the lobby, surrounded by a crowd of other ponies- among them Thunderlane, Carrot Top, Lucky Clover, and a mare Smokey didn’t know by name who owned the wagon shop.
“First it was the unwarranted searches,” Filthy was shouting. He stood so the water tower’s ruins were visible out the window behind him; Smokey wondered if that was intentional. “Then they bring in more troops, and the same Lunar monsters who occupied our town at swordpoint along with them! Now we aren’t even allowed to speak to the press- more than that, the press is actively banned from the entire town! And they still won’t even tell us what’s going on!”
“You know, I heard some of those Guards went and killed a reporter, out in the woods!” Added Lucky Clover.
“That… that doesn’t make sense, that’s not what happened,” Fluttershy spoke up. Smokey hadn’t, initially, realized the pegasus was even present; she lurked in a corner away from the group with a sheaf of papers clasped under her wing, looking very uncomfortable indeed.
“Yeah, they were laughing about it!” the wagonwright called back, “Something about impaling her on a tree branch and letting her bleed out, cackling all the while!”
Smokey wondered how the townsponies could possibly know that kind of information.
“Then monsters from the Everfree start attacking,” Filthy continued, “after the ponies from Canterlot start poking around in there, dabbling in Ceres-knows-what, of course! And now…” he waved out at the collapsed frame of the water tower. “… this! How many close calls is it gonna take? Gaia preserve us that nopony got hurt last night, but what about the next attack? And the next? Because there will be more, as long as they keep running those experiments out there!”
“Umm, well, Sgt Phalanx… kind of lost a meter of small intestine, and Springtime and Bolero both have concussions, and Nightingale took a claw to the spine- she's lucky she can still walk...” Fluttershy muttered, even as she visibly shook and seemed to be trying to squeeze herself through the back wall.
“Oh, is that all?” Filthy rolled his eyes. “I thought those Guardsponies were supposed to be dedicated…”
Smokey let him continue his rant, and slipped past into the conference room.
The town mayor sat at the head of the table inside; the pink mare from the tour group, who he’d since learned was named Spoiled Rich, sat to her left. Steel Shank, Cheerilee, and Drs. Verse and Daycaller were all bunched up on the opposite side. Regardless of position, all of them turned to glare at him when he stepped inside; save for Dr. Verse, who simply looked terrified.
He shut the door behind him, and took a seat next to Steel Shank.
There was a long, strained silence, broken only by the continued sounds of muffled conversation outside.
Finally, Spoiled Rich leaned back in her chair, looked at each of the ponies across from her in turn, and asked, “Well?”
Dr. Daycaller scratched under his neatly-trimmed orange beard, doing a very good job of not seeming at all nervous. “‘Well’ what?”
“Well, do any of you have anything to say for yourselves after traumatizing my daughter?”
Smokey swallowed hard, and looked at the others. The others looked back at him impassively. He couldn’t bring himself to face the mare across the table, and settled for tracing the grains in the imitation wood. “Nay, I do not.”
Finally, he found the courage to look up again. Spoiled had transferred her attention to the Mayor. “My little Diamond hasn’t been able to sleep through the whole night ever since the incident, you know. She jumps at just about every shadow, and she told me she’s being teased -teased!- by the other students about it. We can’t even take her out to the market when there’s always those horrible bat-ponies wandering the streets… I don’t know what we’re going to do when Nightmare Night rolls around, it’d be unfair to just keep her home, but there just wouldn't be enough time to go around and approve the costume of every child in Ponyville to make sure it isn’t too scary…”
The mare prattled on, and Smokey had to fight the urge to go back to studying the table. Instead, he surveyed his own side of the room, again- and found no support there. Spoiled represented just about everything he’d taken the Oath to fight against, but Moon Above her stare was icy. He’d be much happier if she’d just ask for rapiers at dawn and be done with it.
Finally, she turned that freezing gaze to Steel Shank. “Well, what will be your reparations?”
Commendably, the other Lunar didn’t look away. Instead, he grinned. “Well, ordinarily, I’d give the Lancepesade my personal congratulations for his actions, then slap him in the stockade for a day, or perhaps two. However, as of yet the Night Guard has no formal position in the Government, and I no longer have authority over matters of discipline.”
“And, well, I’m just a scientist and not particularly qualified to discuss matters like this,” continued Dr. Daycaller, “But when either of my children blow things out of proportion to fish for sympathy, I’ve found what works best is just to pretend like nothing has changed and go on with business as usual. If it keeps up for more than, I don’t know, a week, my wife’s the one who usually sits down with them and has the Serious Talk.”
“My taxes pay you ponies, and my donations are what allow your shack of a school to afford better than the bare minimum in supplies and materials,” Spoiled hissed, looking from the Mayor to Cheerilee and back again. “I should pull my daughter out. Homeschool her, perhaps hire a few private tutors from Canterlot. Spend my money where it’s appreciated.”
Cheerilee just blinked. “No, please, anything but that,” she stated with perfect apathy.
The Mayor raised a hoof. “I… hope you realize that even if your daughter isn’t actually attending class at the elementary, a portion of your property taxes will still go towards covering her hypothetical presence. So, it really is in at least your financial interest to keep Diamond Tiara in the public school system- since, you know, you are already paying for it.”
Smokey was fairly certain he saw Spoiled’s upper lip peel into a sneer, just for a moment.
Then the Mayor turned to look at him. “That said… Smokey Mirror, for your actions, justified as they might've been at the time… You are no longer welcome in the town of Ponyville, and will no longer be permitted within town limits for a period to be subsequently decided. You have until the end of the day to leave.” Her eyes narrowed. “You’re lucky you aren’t being charged with aggravated assault.”
Mutely, the Lunar swordstallion nodded. He had, in fact, been expecting far worse.
Steel Shank turned to him and announced to the room, “I’m headed back to the Harbor myself. I will see you on the six o’clock train.”
That sneer was back on Spoiled’s muzzle, and she was practically vibrating with restrained fury. She was starting to sweat, which was undoing her flat-iron manestyle and carving streaks in her thick blush.
“Is that all?” Smokey finally found the courage to ask.
The Mayor nodded.
The Night Guard turned to Verse, Daycaller, Shank, and Cheerilee. “In that case, I apologize for causing so much trouble.” He slipped out of his chair and stepped outside. A sigh of relief caught in his throat when he saw that Filthy Rich was still in the lobby, standing right next to the door. There were no other exits he could see- the windows were always a possibility, but he figured he was in enough trouble with Ponyville’s residents already. Instead, he grit his teeth and headed for the door as quickly as was reasonable.
Filthy Rich stuck out a hoof and barred his way before he could pass. “Now, you listen here, you slit-eyed, demon-worshiping freak,” the merchant’s voice was quiet, level, and deadly-cold. “Those Canterlot drones might’ve forgotten just what you and your buddies did at the Summer Sun Celebration, but I haven’t and neither has the rest of this town. If you ever lay one hoof on my daughter, you’re going to wish you’d never crawled out of that tomb. Do you understand me?”
“… Perfectly, sirrah.”
Trixie Lulamoon stumbled on aching legs through the mountainous countryside surrounding Ponyville. It was hard going, but she couldn’t exactly risk traveling along any of the main roads right now- not when her face was probably stuck to a bulletin board in every public building from here to Fillydelphia. She’d had a bit of a scare a few miles back when she thought she’d spotted a pegasus trailing her from high altitude, but whatever it was it had peeled off not too long ago and hadn’t reappeared.
Her situation was, admittedly, looking pretty bleak at the moment. She was out a wagon, up an arrest warrant or two, and missing most of her gear. She hadn’t spotted any kind of settlement nearby to slip into a post office and check, but she figured her bank accounts were probably frozen by now as well. That meant all she currently had to her name was a nine-thousand bit cloak; most of a hoof-rolled smokebomb the crayon-eaters somehow missed while they were frisking her; and that was it. Picking the jail cell's ridiculously simple lock was easy enough- even without her tools- but it wasn't lost on her how lucky she was they'd left her cloak and hat hanging nearby, instead of sticking it in an evidence locker with the rest of her equipment.
Still, it was not in Trixie’s nature to give up. This wasn’t even the first time she’d had to contend with an arrest warrant- although the less she thought back to that one show in Seaddle, the better. She was probably still in her employers’ good graces, too. They looked after ponies who looked after their own interests -or died trying- and it wasn’t like she’d left a check with their name on it in her wagon for Twilight-rutting-Sparkle and her Canterlot pals to discover. They’d have a place available for her to lay low, if nothing else. That wasn’t even counting the bargaining value of the artifacts she’d already smuggled out, or the documents she’d gotten from the Station, or for that matter the designs she’d lifted from that tailor’s shop. The Guards had taken away her physical copies, certainly, but Trixie had a good memory.
She was pretty sure she’d do just fine.
Twilight stood in front of what was fast becoming her personal card table in the grasslands near the Station, Trixie’s Class II enchantments license and miscellaneous other documents spread out before her. Nearby, Spike, TSgt Leafspring, and a few other Royal and Night Guards were hard at work picking apart the remains of the showmare’s wagon.
Carefully, she held a piece of paper over the license, and rubbed a stick of charcoal across the ‘name’ field. Clear as day, ‘TRIXIE LULAMOON’ was superimposed with ‘SHUTTERFLY’
“Well, that’s interesting…” She walked absentmindedly around the table, watching Spike fiddle with the wagon’s solitary intact wheel. He paused, then pulled a slip of paper out from between what had at one point been the floorboards. He unfolded it, and studied it silently for a solid minute.
Twilight sidled over and read over his shoulder. The paper appeared to be a receipt for a wire transfer from a company called ‘Night Star Organizational Solutions’.
“It's the address that caught my attention,” Spike turned around and looked at her, head tilted quizzically to one side. “PO Box 122, Baltimare. I've heard that before…” he idly stroked his not-quite-beard, “Right, Rarity mentioned this, this is part of the same block of boxes those weird Society for Lunar-Equestrian Studies ponies use!"
“Dear Princess Celestia:
Ironically, it seems that all it took to finally get our operation and the local authorities on the same page, administratively, was the leveling of a few inconsequential sections of Ponyville. Of course, this also seems to have stirred up some amount of discontent among a few of the more influential citizens… I suppose ‘three steps forward, one step back’ is simply the natural course of all such investigations.
Attached, you will find my sworn deposition concerning these events, as well as its cover letter. While I in no way recommend against the standard protocols for pursuit of escaped fugitives in Trixie’s case, I have my doubts that anything will turn up. In all probability, she’s already halfway to Klugetown by now. While I’d begun writing this letter with every intention of suggesting that Trixie was hired by Lord Goldstone to exact some hackneyed vengeance for my recent involvement in Innsbeak, I'm beginning to think that explanation is doubtful at best. I am, instead, fully convinced Trixie is part of a network including a variety of businesses, political action groups, media figures, and entities such as the mysterious ‘SLES’ which defy easy categorization. This network has been in operation since well before my relationship with Goldstone soured- indeed, while I shudder to even contemplate the idea that elements of the Government have themselves been compromised, it provides a ready explanation for the intransigence on the part of the DATA Review Board that led me to Innsbeak in the first place- as well as Canterlot's abject refusal to help Capt Marigold while I was petrified.
As for who -or what- might actually be responsible, I have no solid hypothesis. Spike and I have identified names and locations, but any real understanding of the ‘enemy’s’ motives or internal structure escapes me, and I have neither the time, resources, nor skills necessary to conduct a full investigation of this type. I wish I could say that I’m happy to turn that task over to the proper legal authorities, but I fear that doing so may be exactly what the ponies responsible for all of this want.
I suppose, ultimately, all I can do is focus on my responsibilities, and continue my research into the last days of the Lunar Rebellions.
Your faithful student:
Twilight Sparkle”
Exactly how Trixie got past the guards and out of jail is left as an exercise for the reader.
I am currently deciding whether to do an original, OC-focused story called The Last Flight of the Bellerophon; or One Bad Apple EC next. Both will eventually be made, but I am unsure of the order.
Friendship is metal.
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Okay. It's either changelings or the Storm King organizing all this for their eventual invasions by amassing knowledge and internal resources. Or I could be completely wrong!
11177815
The cult of NMM that didn't go in the tombs is too simple, yeah. Not ruling out simple pony organized crime, though.
11177921
A few of you are in the right ballpark. Not saying which of y'all that are, nor which right ballpark you're in.
All I can say is very good job on the exchanges, characterizations and future story set-up in all the right places. Yeah, I get that the lock was very easy for Trixie to pick, even with most of her tools in evidence (as well as probably being sneaky enough to get past the guards when the time was right), but I can also see why Twilight would be so frustrated that Trixie escaped even WITH the precautions mentioned. And, yeah, definitely appreciated the guards briefly going into the Riches before Filthy made a few decent points and then pulling that "Papa Wolf" rant to the Night Guard. And the dialogue between Twilight and Spike close to the end as well as the note that she is thinking that turning this back over to the proper legal authorities is probably exactly what is expected in her most recent note to Celestia.
As for who hired Trixie, I'm thinking it is someone bigger than standard organized crime, but not quite as big as one of the series' MAJOR villains (the latter because I still think Trixie would have enough standards AND pragmatism to avoid siding with the likes of Chrysalis, Sombra, Tirek and the Storm King primarily because she knows there would be no profit to be made off the destruction of the planet and no way to positively spin something that big). Heck if I know who, though, which I acknowledge is the point.
As for the next story, I'll trust you to decide. But, well, if you really have too much trouble deciding, flip a coin.
11177941
Well it would ruin the surprise if we knew who was doing what right now, that's for sure. If it's multiple enemy factions operating at the same time that would truly cause a huge mess for Equestria.
That was a good story. If only Trixie was this smart and entertaining in the show.
11177955
With regards to the next stories, the Admiral and I are actually trying something different: we're outlining and blocking both options in parallel, and when I'd normally pass a bundle of dialog, action scenes, and mood pieces over to him to turn into an actual story, I'll actually write one myself this time. Could speed things up, could waste a bunch of time.
11177981
The Admiral approves of this one hint: the party responsible is in Season 5. More than Season 5? Only Season 5? One episode? Multiple? All equally possible.
11178068
And, lastly, thank you? I'll choose to take that as a complement. I spent a lot of time getting into EC Trixie's headspace, glad you liked her?
Well Trixie slinks off to recurring antagonist island for now, but finally Twilight and pals are all on the same page with the audience about the conspiracy.
Of the big name villains only changelings really makes sense to me. I guess it could be some cult trying to restore Sombra (Trixie is related to the Crystal empire distantly, so that's a possible reason she got hired), or Discord, but that kind of motivation seems questionable for such a wide range of ponies; I guess you could reimagine Sombra to be popular with certain political groups, though.
"Steal whatever you can get your hands on and mess with Luna" aligns with Changeling interests, I would think, and the shape shifter angle kind of answers how they get into positions of power pretty well.
Oh, Trixie. What happens to an illusionist that starts to believe their own illusions?
11181475
It comes from the British legal system, IIRC. And from what Serketry told me, it's less being able to hold silence against someone, than it is weakening exculpatory evidence if that evidence is only presented in court and not mentioned earlier. Probably this is to make sure both sides have as good an understanding as possible of the evidence for and against, before going into the trial.
11221332
Not as much four foals, as two best sisters. Close, though!
Outstanding work throughout, and a wonderful integration of the canon material into your developing storyline. Eagerly looking forward to seeing how here things proceed from here, especially as the pieces of the puzzle begin to come together. Hopefully I'll actually notice the next installment when it goes up.
11221418
Thanks! And hopefully our next work shows up in your alerts.
11325613
I won't spoil who the expert who wrote that is, but I can say you're right, they're no historian.
11326575
"The Great and Powerful Trixie refuses to answer to your standards of objective morality!"
11326617
I mean on the one hand I was to quick to call her evil, on the other I still think objective standards of morality is bad. What Goldfeather does I believe is objectively bad.
11326659
Another reader noticed that, too. Equestria doesn't have Miranda rights because it's not based off the American legal system.
Ok Diamond was horrible but everyone is acting like she wasn't scared for her life. If a ghost with a sword jumped out at me and said he would kill me I would be jumping at every shadow too. The townsfolk are really being disgusting.
11358237
Ok Caesar was a bad example. Caligula would be amazing to have for Roman Historians. Even if he is as mad as ancient writers claim(something that modern historians greatly doubt) he would be such an amazing resource for Roman history. Think of all the things he could teach us that seem small to him but have been lost to us. Books that he knew about that have been lost, songs that were sung, what the temples looked like, what the houses looked like, so much. This fantasy is so amazing, please don't wake me up.
11358782
Just want to chime in that you're entitled to your own interpretations, but the way that I framed it was as follows:
They aren't just talking about Luna being back, they're talking about putting her in charge again (or at least in a very high position). I think the Caligula example is actually a very good one precisely because it's now suspected that his reputation was the product of a smear campaign by his political opponents at the time- if that theory had started to develop at the same time he was running for prime minister of modern Italy, there would be people who questioned if the historiography was being altered in the service of the campaign.
11359348
Caligula is a perfect example for how Luna is portrayed by these people.
But the original comment was about the historical benefit of Luna's return.
My OG Comment.
I 100% agree that Caligula or Nero is a perfect example of Luna politically and its really intresting to see that situation of essentially Caligula coming back to life and running for Prime Minister of Italy. I love it as a lover of history and I love your comparison. But I was saying is even if you think Luna is mad a historian would be thrilled to have a living primary source.
You can has review!
11178101
Oh, of course.
The Season 5 finale!
This was a great story and Trixie should really be second guessing her choices. Also I think her employers won’t have any use for the designs she stole from Rarity because replicating them would be evidence connecting them to Trixie.