Wild Card: Two of A Kind

Chapters

Kicking Things Off
Long Limbs of the Law
Red Handed
Dynamic Entrances
My Effects, If You Please
One-Bull Stampede
Players and Pawns
Partners
Arrival
Dives and Dogs
Thicker than Water
Drink and be Merry
Smuggler Hunting 101

Kicking Things Off

As a veritable storm of crossbow bolts impacted his cover, Ace, satyr, magician and wanted thief, couldn’t help but feel that things had gone a little bit wrong somewhere down the line.

“Ace! Any sign of Gale?” A voice called out from over to his left. He looked over to where Tumbler, his unicorn security expert, was cowering.

The satyr considered this query for a moment, trying to remember when he had last seen the pegasus mare. When the bolts had started flying she had shot up into the air, desperately trying to avoid the death dealing projectiles.

“I think she might be dead.” He eventually replied with a grimace, the blunt statement causing the unicorn’s face to drop.

Ace could see anger beginning to stir in the gangly stallion’s eyes, magic slowly coalescing around his horn, when a form leapt over the satyr’s rudimentary barricade. After a short tumble to arrest her momentum, several near-lethal bolts passing harmlessly through her tail as she did so, the pegasus Gale Force, infiltration specialist and, thankfully, not a pony pincushion, joined Ace behind his cover.

“Belay that! She lives still!” He called over to Tumbler, who visibly sighed with relief. “Hey Gale, you wouldn’t happen to know where Melissa’s got to would you?”

Gale opened her mouth to reply, only to be rudely cut off by a sharp, bloodcurdling scream that cut over the constant whoosh of crossbow fire. As if to reply to his question, a stallion’s corpse went flying over the cover, notably lacking in a jugular.

“Nevermind. I think I found her.”

“Well at least she’s having fun.” Gale said wryly from next to him.

“Aye,” He remarked, taking advantage of a slight lull in the combat to throw one of his magical cards at the enemies, ducking back into cover before he could see the results of his attack. Judging by the fleshy thud and the strangled scream though, he could guess that it had been a Clubs card, and an effective one at that. “And, at the end of the day,” he continued as if nothing had happened, “Isn’t having fun what really matters?”

The ponies both shrugged in response, unable to defeat the superior logic. It was at that very moment that the barricade he was hiding behind blew apart, sending Gale and himself tumbling through the air. A furious minotaur, his form heaving with barely contained rage, bellowed his challenge to the stunned defenders.

‘Yup,’ Ace thought miserably, ‘Something definitely went wrong with this plan.”

Author's Note

I'm back bitches!

Long Limbs of the Law

Earlier that year.

Detective First Class Rosamund glided gently through the air as she approached Trottingham. Despite the freezing winds and morose fog that always seemed to surround Trottingham, it was by far one of the most pleasurable flights that she had ever had. Not because of the journey of course, that was by far one of the worst, but the destination more than made up for it.

For the last six months, she and the two other members of her agency, Brain Storm and Brow Beat, had been on the trail of one of the world’s most elusive thieves. Normally, this would be no trouble. After all, the title of ‘World’s Most Elusive Thief’ gets banded about a lot in the criminal underworld of Equestria. It probably had something to do with cutie marks, the griffoness reckoned. Any two bit pocket picker with a theft-related cutie mark on his rear would proclaim himself to be the ‘World’s Greatest Thief’ at the drop of a hat. Ponies have a lot of good points, but subtlety was not one of them.

But this one was a bit of an oddity. For one thing, he wasn't a pony, meaning he had no ego-inflating cutie mark to blame for his complete lack of subtlety regarding his profession. Another problem was that everyone she talked to had no idea what he was exactly. The best answer she had managed to get was ‘some sort of wimpy, half-naked minotaur maybe?’ It was distressing times indeed if one of Canterlot’s best detective agencies had to go on a ‘maybe’.

Still, despite the difficulty he had posed, despite the dead ends and complete lack of leads, despite the humiliation of that one time that she had been deliberately led into the middle of a young foal’s birthday party dressed as a clown, she had managed to track him down. Well, to be specific, Brain Storm had managed to track him down, but she would be the one to capture him.

Which was why she had flown ahead of the other two, leaving them to trundle across country in a cart. Brain Storm might be a genius but he was no fighter and, despite being a pegasus, was about as graceful in the air as a rock that had somehow been bestowed the power of flight. As for Brow Beat, well the old earth pony stallion might be experienced but there was no way that he could match a young griffoness in a fight, not to mention that he was getting a bit slow in his old age, no matter what he insisted.

So she’d gone on ahead. A smile pulled at her beak as she imagined how, by the time her two colleagues got to Trottingham, she would have the perpetrator in chains and ready to be carted off to Canterlot.

Grin still plastered over her beak, she flexed her talons and began to dive down towards the city, where a Guard informant had recently spotted the easily recognized figure of Ace, trickster, magician and known thief.

Many people, and ponies for that matter, did not take the time out of their lives to enjoy the little things in life. They considered themselves far too important and busy to breath in the flowers, hear the laughter of small children and bask in the warmth of a burning warehouse.

It was the last little activity that the satyr thief known as Ace, former human and recently revealed demigod, was now enjoying. Not that his full attention was on the warehouse though. Only a few months prior he had made the agonizing decision to leave his friends, Summer Storm and Iron Will, in Manehatten so that they could enjoy their lives whilst he went on alone. This decision came just after finding out that the goddess Fortuna, also known as Lady Luck and the being who had brought him to this world, was actually his mother. Hence the whole ‘demigod’ thing. Not that the universe had seen fit to grant him any awesome demigod powers or anything, freaking cheapskate universe. No, Hercules gets super strength and the ability to punch stuff really well and what does he get? Being lucky.

Oh, and goat’s legs. Couldn't forget about the goat’s legs.

He had tried a couple of times to see if any other powers had manifested themselves whilst he hadn’t been paying attention. The confusion on his opponents face when he tried to breath ice over them was almost worth the near ass kicking he received when it turned out his didn’t have frost breath but instead regular old air breath. That fight sucked.

Still life wasn’t all bad. The last couple of months, despite being lonely, had definitely not been dull. Ever since Manehatten he had been on the trail of a group of ponies that he called the Black Brew Smugglers. Because they were smugglers. Who dealt in Black Brew. The name was appropriate, if a little unimaginative. He had hit operations in Stalliongrad and Maneapolis so far, making this particular burning warehouse his third. He couldn’t help but feel slightly overwhelmed at the sheer scale of the operation he had encountered. Though all three of his attacks so far had been complete successes, he still felt like he was barely scratching the surface of a very big iceburg. It was obvious that this operation wasn’t just big, but highly competent as well. They were very accomplished at hiding themselves from regular law enforcement, sometimes even existing right next door to them, such as they had in Maneapolis. It was only through sheer strokes of luck that Ace had managed to catch the trail of each one that he had so far.

As was becoming increasingly obvious to him, this was far more than a one man operation. He would need a team of trained professionals. The best of the best that the criminal underworld had to offer. But where in the world could he find such a team? It’s not like he had access to the same connections he had back on Earth. Back in jolly old London it would only take him a few phone calls to get a few good people together for a job. But here? It would take months to find the right people, maybe even years.

“Freeze! Put your…limbs? Yeah, that works. Put your limbs in the air!” A voice sounded from behind him, clearly unsure but desperately trying to be commanding.

The satyr span round, arms flung in the air and a wide grin on his face as he beheld the young Guardspony that was pointing a spear at him.

“I assure you officer I had absolutely nothing to do with this here conflagration.”

The stallion’s eyes strayed to the matches that were clearly visible in his hand.

“Really?”

“Absolutely. These matches? Merely circumstantial evidence. I heard a disturbance and went out to investigate and I required these matches to light my way. It was then that I found this warehouse ablaze.”

The Guard looked around at the neighborhood, which was so brightly lit by the fire that it could well have been used to signal passing aliens.

“Really?!”

“Of course. And there isn’t a witness around who could tell you otherwise.” He had made sure of that beforehand.

Suddenly a screaming stallion ran past, his mane ablaze as he galloped past the duo. It appeared to be one of the gangsters Ace had knocked out and moved outside before setting the warehouse ablaze. Evidently he had chosen to go back inside, probably to try and rescue some of their product. As he passed the two, he was screaming at the top of his lungs:

“IT WAS HIM! IT WAS ALL THAT GUY’S FAULT! THE ONE WHO LOOKS LIKE A WIMPY, HALF-NAKED MINOTAUR!”

“Now that was just rude.” Ace commented before looking back at the Guardspony, who had adopted a distinctly more aggressive stance. “Oh, right yes. How does this go? I surrender?” He announced, dropping the matches to the ground before getting on to his knees, his hands in the air and his head bowed.

This was not at all how he had imagined his night going.

Author's Note

So, bet most of you are wanting an explanation as to where I've been right?

The short answer: watching t.v.

The longer answer: So after finally finishing off Wild Card, my largest project to date, I was feeling pretty beat. Wild Card had managed to take the better part of a year to do and I didn't exactly feel like getting into something just as long right away. So I took a break. Then it turned into an extended break. Which turned into something of a holiday. But I digress. Eventually I did get back into writing, mostly short stories for competition (haven't won anything yet but there's still hope) and every so often I would get a notification telling me that someone had commented on Wild Card telling me how much they liked it and how much they wanted more.

Which eventually wore down the steely facade that I use to deal with the world and made me realise just what my writing meant to some people. That, even after months of inactivity, they would still come back hungry for more. So I decided to do something about that.

Oh yeah! One more thing, it's now been so long that I have actually lost my notes for this story so it looks like we're going to be playing this one pretty much by ear. Which should be alright....I mean, I pretty much wrote Wild Card in week by week chapters with only the vaguest of ideas to go on and you all seemed to like that.

Ciao
Barrel

Red Handed

For most people, prison is regarded as the single worst place to find yourself. They see it as a horrible, dreary place occupied only by the lowest dregs of society. Whilst this is technically true, they overlook one important factor.

It is a great place to meet the lowest dregs of society.

Ace watched appraisingly as a stallion who appeared to be made entirely of slabs of meat haphazardly held together by a fur coat was marched past by two guards. A bit of muscle was always a good thing to have along right? Always good if the situation went south. His thoughts were derailed by the sound of the musclebound pony attempting to head butt his way through a solid metal cell bar. On second thoughts, maybe a little brain would be nice to go along with all that brawn.

“Move it! Come on!” A guard shouted, emphasising his point with a jab of his spear.

“Ow!” Ace rubbed at the spot where he had been poked, “Why would you do that? That was just mean and unnecessary.”

“Shut up!”

“I’m serious. Such hostility in the workplace can only lead to trouble.”

The guard sighed wearily, “I’m sorry. It’s just…it’s been a long week you know?”

Ace smiled kindly down at him, his eyes wide and understanding, “My friend, I just want you to know something. No matter how hard your life may seem, or how many troubles you may be going through, you have absolutely no way of comprehending how little I care about them.”

The guard’s smile, which had been steadily growing more and more throughout the speech, slid completely off his face at the end. With a sharp jab, he stabbed the satyr lightly with his spear, managing to draw blood.

“Agh! Bitch!” Ace howled, clutching at his side, “That better not leave a mark. Harassment! Prisoner mistreatment!”

“Nobody cares.” The guard muttered with a vicious grin as he shoved the satyr into a cell, closing it with a slam.

Ace sat on his cot and stared morosely at the retreating guard, his head in his hands. So he was in prison, again. Not the greatest start to a mission he had ever had, and yet not the worst either. He could come back from this. Easy.

Slowly, the satyr turned his head to look at his cell mate, a maneless pegasus with a colourfully dyed coat. The pony version of a tattoo perhaps? More worrying than the pony’s artwork was the unnerving grin that stretched across his muzzle.

“We’re going to be friends, you and I.” He said with a voice like sandpaper being rubbed against the devil’s crotch.

Ace sighed.

“What do you mean he’s been caught?”

The mare, not for the first time in her life, cursed her sensitive ears. Take for example, the screeching griffoness that was looming over her, talons digging into the desk. She really should have expected this when the strutting half-lion entered, a self-satisfied smile plastered across her beak. Griffons could be so confrontational.

“Once again ma’am, yes. Ace the magician was captured by Officer Burberry early this morning.”

“He’s the most elusive thief this side of Canterlot!”

“He was caught next to a burning building.”

“He’s evaded more guards than you’ve had hot meals!”

“He was holding the matches in his hands.”

“But…but…”

“We also have a lot of witnesses. Under questioning the suspect said,” She cleared her throat before quickly reading the statement, “’I may have done it, but you’ll never take me alive!’ He was in an interrogation room at the time and, after this statement was made, calmly sat down and drank his water.”

“…really?” The griffoness’s voice had gone distinctly weaker. She almost felt sorry for the poor dear.

“Indeed. We suspect that he might be going for the insanity defence.”

The mare took the time to enjoy the silence as the young hen stared off into the distance, mouth opening and closing as she evidently tried to comprehend what had happened. Just as she looked like she had come up with something to say, she was cut off by a massive shadow that loomed over her. Both mare and girffoness craned their necks up to look into the face of a minotaur.
The receptionist felt her face heat up as she locked gazes with the mighty creature. He was, like most of his species, bulging with muscles. Though she would never admit it, the mare had a secret guilty pleasure for minotaur muscle. And this particular specimen was a prime example. The conservative white shirt he wore strained at the seams as it tried to contain his bulk and, wrapped around his thick neck, was a scrap of cloth that, on anyone smaller, could have been called a tie. Perched upon the end of his muzzle was a comically small pair of glasses whilst his hand was clutched around a briefcase that, unlike the rest of his attire, was appropriately sized for him.

“Good day ladies.” He said pleasantly.

“G-good day,” She managed to stumble out, her attention now completely focussed on the minotaur, “How can I help you?”

“Ah yes, I believe you have recently taken my client, a curious fellow by the name of Ace, into custody? I am his attorney.” In a flash, papers were produced and placed onto the desk before her. “If you would be so kind as to arrange a meeting for us, I believe that we can sort out this little misunderstanding swiftly.”

Professionalism drowned out the small voice in her head that kept shouting ‘Do it! He’s big and sexy and he’ll like you for it.’ She had taken care not to listen to that voice since college. Instead she looked down at the papers with a careful eye. They were simply the standard legal documents that certified that the minotaur in front of her was in fact the attorney for ‘Ace’ as well as the signed notification for a lawyer-client meeting.

“Okay, everything seems to be in order here. I’ll just need to clear this with the chief and then you can get your meeting. Please wait here.”

Grabbing the documents, the mare trotted off, pointedly ignoring the annoyed huff from the griffoness.

Rosamund couldn’t believe it. After all the work she had put into hunting down this thief he had had the audacity just to give himself up! And not even to her! No, he had to surrender to some idiot officer who would probably be getting a promotion thanks to his ability to be in the right place at the right time. Meanwhile, she, who had tracked down leads with the sort of tenacity that would impress the most stubborn of diamond dogs, would be getting nothing! No reward. No recognition. No front page article.

And now she was left in a room with the thief’s lawyer. What a ridiculous notion. She cast a sharp gaze over to the minotaur in question and snorted. Who even hired a minotaur to be their lawyer? They were brutes, every one of them. If that was supposed to be Ace’s attorney then she might as well as give up now. Maybe if he had hired a unicorn or even a pegasus to defend him then he might have got off, meaning that she would have free reign to hint him down.

What was she supposed to tell Brain and Brow? That the criminal they had been hunting for the last six months had managed to get himself caught by the local guard? That they’d messed up big time?

Her thoughts were interrupted by the return of the receptionist.

“Sir? If you would like to follow me, your meeting is in interrogation room three.”

“This is to be a private meeting of course? Attorney-client privileges.”

“Of course sir, the recording gems have been disabled in the room and the monitoring staff have left. You and your client will have complete privacy.”

“Excellent, if you could lead the way?” The minotaur lawyer rose from his pony-sized seat and grabbed his briefcase. As he did so, something inside the case made a distinct clanking sound. Something metal, without a doubt.

Across the room, the receptionist evidently hadn’t heard as she simply smiled, “Of course, right this way.”

As the two left, Rosamund felt her hopes begin to rise. A minotaur lawyer was a ridiculous notion. But a minotaur partner? Someone who could help you out if things went south like, say, if you were arrested by the guard?

That was perfectly plausible.

Leaning back, Rosamund grinned. Now all she had to do was wait.

After battling gangsters, burning down a warehouse and surrendering to the local guard, it had been quite a long day for Ace. So it was no surprise that, when the guard came to collect him, he was trying his best to get to sleep on the stone slate that served as the prison beds.

“Hey! Ace! You’ve got a visitor.”

With a groan, the magician roused himself and crawled out of bed, rubbing one hand through his hair as he stared blearily at the guard.

“What? Who?”

The guard, however, wasn’t listening. Instead he appeared to be absorbed with the sight of the bruised lump that occupied the other bed in the cell. Moans occasionally issued from the pile of injuries and tattoos.

“What happened to him?” The guard asked.

Ace shrugged casually, “Fell down the stairs. Now you said something about a visitor?”

“Yeah,” The guard shook his head, “Your attorney is here. Big minotaur guy. He’s waiting for you in interrogation room three.”

“Minotaur?” Ace said, a smile beginning to appear on his face.

With a short burst of magic, the guard opened the cell door and approached the satyr, “Limbs forwards please.”

Obligingly, Ace held his hands in front of them, watching in amusement as a pair of cuffs were secured over his wrists. A pair of standard issue pony legcuffs like this would take him seven – maybe eight - seconds to get off if given a chance.

“Follow me.” The guard ordered as he led him through the halls of the guard station. It was not long before the guard stopped outside a door. Evidently, the station wasn’t that big. “I shall return in half an hour to return you to your cell.”

“And the cuffs?” Ace asked hopefully, his hands held out before him.

He got a glare in response, “They stay on.”

With that the guard opened the door and backed away, allowing the satyr to enter before slamming it shut behind him. Inside the room, Ace could hear the guard stomping away. At the table, his back to the door, was a giant horned figure. Ace swung his arms out wide to greet his old friend.

“Iron! What are you doing here? Where’s Summer?”

The minotaur in question didn’t respond immediately, busy with the briefcase that lay on the table in front of him. With a click, the case swung open, one of the minotaur’s thick hands reached inside.

Ace leapt back as the minotaur swung around, a wicked hand-axe cleaving through the air just in front of the satyr, missing him by mere inches.

“I think you might have me confused with someone else.” Definitely-not-Iron-Will said with a rumble. His other hand came into view, an identical axe held loosely in it.

“Now then, why don’t you take a seat? We have a lot to discuss.”

Author's Note

Third person is fun to write in.

Dynamic Entrances

When faced with the business end of any weapon, Ace’s mind, rather than going blank in fear like many would, instead began to consider possibilities. Possibilities such as; how much damage such a weapon could inflict on his unarmoured body, how quickly could his opponent swing such a weapon and, his personal favourite, just how to prevent such a weapon swinging his way.

However, staring down at the large chunk of sharpened metal held by the huge, but eerily calm, minotaur, Ace had to admit, the possibilities on this one did not look good.

“You’re thinking of going for the door aren’t you? Maybe shouting for the guards?” The minotaur said with uncanny accuracy, “Let me assure you that it would be futile. I am very good with these axes and, if you were to try and run, you would find your escape…cut sharp.”

If there was one thing that Ace knew from his experiences being threatened by large people with an unnervingly professional attitude, it was that attempts to lighten the mood, such as bad puns, were never a good sign. Deciding to hold his tongue against the minotaur’s awful attempt at comedy, the satyr obligingly took a seat. When he had been arrested the guard’s had confiscated all of his gear, including his cards and lockpicks. They had been disturbingly thorough.

Eyeing the minotaur’s weapon, Ace gulped. “I suppose you want to ‘axe’ me a question.”

A cold gaze froze the thief to the core as the giant calmly reached into the breast pocket of his shirt and pulled out a notepad and quill, quickly jotting something down before putting them back.

“Heh, that’s a good one.” He chuckled, “I’ll have to remember that for later. Now then, maybe I should introduce myself. My name is Grante, I’m employed by the individual whose operation you have been interfering with.”

“Grante? Really?”

“Not what you were expecting? I admit, it’s not my birth name. My father, a very traditionalist minotaur, wanted me to be called Skullcrusher Bloodfist.” He grimaced, “However, like many minotaur’s who leave their tribe, I decided to take a new name.”

“Yeah…but ‘Grante’?”

“It’s old Griffon. I’ve always found Griffon culture fascinating. Once they were a noble and honourable people, at least before Celestia decided to try her hoof at international diplomacy.” He shook his head sadly, “But we are not here to discuss dead cultures. My employer is growing irate with you. At first, you were amusing, but your hilarity has quickly waned. If you were anyone else, no doubt we could come to some sort or arrangement that would benefit both parties. But I’m afraid that you cannot be trusted.”

Ace rose indignantly from his chair, “Hey! Who says I can’t be trusted?”

“We are familiar with your kind.” Grante said with a snort, “And we are not about to let you go free.”

“Do you even know what your ‘employer’ is doing? The damage that the Black Brew can do?” Ace exclaimed, mind searching for a way out even as he spoke.

“Of course, but it is a necessary evil.” The enforcer sighed, “I truly wish there was a better way, but none present itself. For what it’s worth, I am sorry.” With that, the minotaur rose to his full height, easily eclipsing Ace. “I would have greatly enjoyed talking more with you.”

“Wish I could say the same.” Grante raised an eyebrow, and an axe, at that, “But you take way too long to say anything. By the time you make a point I’d probably be asleep.”

The minotaur, rather than shouting in anger or something similar like Ace expected, merely shrugged. “A fair point.” He noted, before swinging his weapon towards the satyr.

As the weapon began its descent, Ace dropped backwards into his chair and kicked off the table, sending himself tumbling backwards. The axe, which would have split his head in two, instead went clean between his legs and slammed deep into the table. Smoothly, the thief rolled backwards and back to his hooves.

“Ta da!”

With a yank, Grante removed his axe from the table, leaving a jagged scar behind in the wood. He sighed, “Impressive. But you merely delay the inevitable.” With a single sweep, he knocked the table aside and stepped forward.

“Oh crap.”

“You know, the more you try and pick that lock, the more I want to snap your neck and make a shank out of your spinal column.”

“Flatterer.”

A sigh, “Seriously though Gale, could you give it a rest? The scratching is giving me a headache.”

Gale Force looked up from her work. For the last two hours she had been trying to pick the lock of her cell door with one of her wing feathers. It was slow going to say the least. Well, technically speaking, it was no going. The feather just didn’t have the necessary strength to move the tumblers, not to mention trying to manipulate it with her mouth tickled. Spitting out her tool, Gale looked over to her cellmate. Despite the occasional threats of painful death, the short unicorn had proven to be a decent cellmate, even if she did insist on being called Stab Wound. Who named their foal Stab Wound? What sort of parent looked into a foal’s adorable eyes and thought ‘Stab Wound. Yup, that’s the perfect name.’

“Stabby-“

“Don’t call me that.”

“…Stabby. You need to lighten up. Get a more positive outlook on life. Sure, I could sit here like you, be all grumpy and wait until they let me out. Or! I could get through this lock and make a name for myself as someone who can break out of prison with just my wing feathers.”

“Or I could stab you in the throat and leave you to bleed out whilst I get some sleep.”

Gale stuck here tongue out at the unicorn, “Party pooper.”

She was about to go back to work when the wall behind her exploded. Immediately throwing herself to the ground, Gale squeezed her eyes shut as dust filled the air. A thud and a groan came from next to her as something landed heavily on the ground. Flapping her wings to clear the air, Gale Force hesitantly opened her eyes, thankful when no stinging particles of dust invaded her green orbs. Her shocked mind attempted to comprehend what had just happened. The first thing she saw was the figure lying on the ground next to her, moaning in pain as it clutched at its chest. Of the back wall of the cell, very little remained, save for a few bricks that tenaciously hung onto their mortar. On the bed, which had miraculously remained upright, a dust covered head looked round.

“The fuck was that?” Stab Wound asked, for once sounding more confused than angry.

Gale looked down at the figure next to her, which was slowly rising, then back to her cellmate. “I think…I think a skinny minotaur just flew through the back wall of our cell.”

Stab Wound mulled this over for a moment, “Huh. Okay.”

“Just like to point out,” The ‘skinny minotaur’ said in a pained tone as he rose to his full height, “I’m a satyr, not a minotaur. And I didn’t fly, I was thrown.”

Thoughts still reeling, Gale couldn’t help but ask, “Thrown? By what?”

“Ah, that would be me.” From beyond the ruined wall, a bass voice rumbled, threatening the stability of the wall’s remaining bricks.

“My cue.” The satyr said, quickly leaning forward and plucking a feather from the shocked Gale Force, “I hope you don’t mind, need to borrow this for a minute.” He spun around and began to fiddle with the cell’s lock, muttering furiously to himself.

Gale knew that it was pointless. She had been trying herself for hours after all. Rather than watch the poor fellow struggle in vain with the lock, she instead chose to observe what monster had decided to kill the satyr. As the dust cleared, the largest minotaur that Gale had ever seen stepped forth, ducking just to get into the cell. In each hand was an axe that was almost as big as her. Some lingering survival instinct made her step out of his way as, in two steps, he strode across the cell. Futily, she watched as one of the wicked hatchets was raised over the satyr’s head, who was still absorbed with trying to pick the lock.

In the next second, several things happened at once. The axe began its fatal descent, Gale let out a wordless shout to try and warn the minotaur’s victim, Stab Wound pointedly decided to stay out of it.

And the cell door swung open.

Moving with surprising speed, the satyr stepped smoothly through the now open door, the axe splitting the hairs of his tail. Instantly, as soon as his right-hand weapon had slammed into the floor, the minotaur swung with his remaining axe, attempting to catch his prey before the satyr escaped. Rather than getting tangled in the satyr’s ribcage, the swinging blade was caught by the cell door that had been slammed shut behind the escaping victim.

“Ha! Can’t catch Ace!” The satyr crowed as the door slammed shut, automatically locking with the minotaur’s axe caught inside.

“You’re referring to yourself in third person now?” The giant asked as he tugged at the trapped axe.

“No! I mean,” The satyr looked down, “Shut up!” His point apparently made, he turned and ran off, leaving his pursuer behind.

As the shock slowly wore off, Gale came to the uncomfortable realisation that she was now trapped in a cell in a giant, undoubtedly angry and heavily armed minotaur. As she took a step away from him, the minotaur let his weapons clatter to the ground before seizing the door in both hands. Letting out a roar, the giant’s muscles heaved and, one screech of protesting metal later, the door was ripped clean off its hinges. Not even slightly out of breath, he reached down and retrieved his weapons. Turning to face the two shocked females, he nodded once.

“Ladies. My apologies for the intrusion.”

And then he was gone, striding off after his quarry. Silently, Gale Force and Stab Wound turned to face each other.

“Tell me you saw that shit?”

Gale gulped and nodded, “Yeah. That happened.”

“Good. ‘Cus I took some really strong Crystal earlier and was worried that it might have been a bad batch.” She looked over at the gaping hole in the wall and then at the remains of the door, “Well, looks like I won’t be waiting out my sentence after all. You coming?” She began to walk through the hole.

Gale looked at the inviting hole and considered her options. On one hoof she had almost certain freedom, a decent travelling companion who probably wouldn’t stab her and a good chance of not dying. On the other was an axe-wielding minotaur, a satyr and, from the sound of it, the entire Guard mobilising. In any other circumstance, the choice would be obvious.

But then again, he had managed to open the door in a few seconds with just a feather. That was seriously impressive.

“You know? You go ahead. I’m going to see what that was all about.”

Stab stared at her, “Are you serious? You’ll die!”

“I hope not. But he’s still got my feather. The way I see it, that guy owes me one.”

“You’re nuts.” Stab shook her head. “Best of luck with that, I’m off. If you somehow survive, look me up and tell me how it went.”

With a smile and a nod, Gale saw off her new friend before stepping gingerly over the ruined cell door. Behind her, the clattering and shouting of Guards. In front of her, the heavy steps of the minotaur and, somewhere beyond that, the frantic running of the satyr. Grinning, the Pegasus galloped forwards towards her destiny.

And, she hoped, not her brutal death.

Author's Note

Late, but fashionably so I hope.

My Effects, If You Please

As he casually batted another roaring pegasus out of his way, Grante couldn’t help but sigh. This was supposed to be a simple job. Go to Trottingham, find the satyr, introduce himself and then kill the satyr. Simple.

One of the minotaur’s giant hands snatched an earth pony and slammed him into the wall, burying the unfortunate guard there.

He had no one to blame but himself, he mused as he kicked another Guard down the hallway. He should have just finished the job as soon as he was alone with the target. Grante would be the first to admit that he underestimated the satyr. Ace had a reputation for outsmarting those trying to catch him but that was mainly with incompetent Equestrian Guards and brutish pirates. The minotaur had made the mistake of thinking himself superior to his foe.

A swift headbutt forced an unconscious unicorn into the ground, Grante stepped carefully over the pony before continuing his unstoppable stride. The Trottingham Guard were trying their very best to detain the minotaur but were quickly finding their efforts to be in vain. The understaffed and undertrained Guard were no match for their efficiently brutal opponent. Grante was careful to only use just enough force to put each pony down without killing them. He had his target for this job and, despite their seeming incompetence, the Equestrian Guard could get quite serious when it involved the death of one of their own. He would much rather avoid the stress.

He could just pick out Ace in the distance, a flash of red fur partially obscured by the technicolour horde that was bearing down on him. Heaving his shoulders in a shrug, Grante planted his hooves and braced himself for what was about to come. The next second, ten ponies slammed into him with the force of a train. The majority of them were earth ponies, actually giving them a weight advantage against the giant minotaur. So great was their momentum that they even managed to force Grante to take a step back.

“An excellent attempt.” He grunted from beneath the pile of ponies, “But not quite enough.”

All it took was one swing of his arms, accompanied by a roar, to send the ponies tumbling through the air, the majority of them slamming into the floor a few second later. They stumbled back to their hooves, bruised but still fighting, just in time to see what had become of their comrades.

As he had flung the horde away from himself, Grante’s swift reactions had enabled him to snag two of the ponies out of the air by their tails. They now hung helplessly from his meaty paws, an earth pony is his right hand and a pegasus in his left, snarling in anger at their captor. Their protests transformed into screams a moment later as Grante charged at the Guards who were still standing, swinging his pony-maces as he came.

The earth pony was sent in an underhand swing towards one of his allies, their thick skulls colliding with a solid thunk that caused both ponies to be immediately knocked into unconsciousness. The pegasus was less fortunate, his trajectory sending him smashing into the side of one of his comrades, dazing him and knocking the wind out of the Guard he had collided with.

During his youth, Grante would have undoubtedly found the entire situation hilarious. Beating up ponies with other ponies. However, he was an older bull now, and liked to think himself above the immaturity that afflicted him when he was but a young taur. The only enjoyment he got out of the fight now was the satisfaction of a hit well swung, such as the blow that sent one of the few unicorn Guards into the ceiling, the poor stallion’s horn sticking as he hung limply there. It was not usually Grante’s style to inflict such humiliation upon his opponents, but he was in a hurry. Employing weapons was an effective strategy against a numerically superior foe, and clearly he couldn’t use the axes holstered at his waist.

Dropping the two bruised and beaten Guards that had served as his maces, the minotaur looked round and surveyed the damage he had done. Of the ten guards that had jumped him, not a one was still standing and, from the looks of it, most probably wouldn’t be standing for a few days yet. Nodding in satisfaction, he strode past his defeated opponents and after Ace.

“My commendations to you.” He said, stepping over a moaning pegasus, “And my apologies as well. You were only doing your duty after all. As I must do mine.”

It was not overly difficult to guess where the satyr was heading to. Prior to his mission, Grante had made sure to memorize the layout of the station. Which meant, if his mental map was correct, then just around this corner should be…

“Come on you bastard thing!”

Ah, there he was.

Sure enough, standing before a large metal door and fiddling with the lock, was his diminutive target. Once again, the satyr had his back turned to Grante and was absorbed with picking a lock, though this time a large sign declared that the door in question led to the station’s evidence lock-up. Remembering the hassle that had come his way the last time Ace had managed to pick a lock, Grante reacted swiftly. Both his hands flew to his belt, pulling out the axes that were tucked in, as he began to charge down the corridor.

Grante never claimed to be the swiftest of creatures. His mass made it difficult for him to move with any impressive speed. However, when it came to momentum, he was second to none. Whilst his charge started off slowly, it quickly began building up speed. After a few seconds, the lumbering minotaur was more like a streaking comet bearing down on his unfortunate victim.

“Ha! Got it!”

Grante could only stare in resignation as his target once again opened a door and slipped beyond his reach, slamming the solid metal portal shut behind him. It was then, of course, that Grante realised the problem with momentum.

He couldn’t stop.

The entire room shook as something massive, possibly a meteor or a strangely land-savvy whale, collided with the door. Fortunately, the metal held, which is more than could be said for whatever hit it. Judging from the groaning coming from the other side, it wasn’t in good shape.

“Hey, you alright over there?” Ace called through the metal.

More groaning, “I’ll be much better once I cut you in two.”

Oh, it was Grante. That made sense. By the sound of it, the minotaur didn’t sound too happy. Not that Ace was overly concerned with the well-being of the person currently trying to kill him. Turning his back on the door, the satyr went over to the shelves and began rummaging through the various boxes that the Trottingham Guard used to store their evidence.

“I said it earlier but it bears repeating. Even if you escape this room, I shall find you eventually. You are merely delaying the inevitable.”

“You could say the same about everything mortals do.” Ace replied, getting dangerously close to the realm of philosophy.

There was a harsh clang of metal against metal. Evidently, Grante had started trying to cut through the doors hinges. “Perhaps you are right, but consider this. If you open this door now, then only you have to die. If you prolong the chase, then how many shall you drag down with you?”

This actually got Ace to pause in his search. The minotaur had a point, if a twisted and morbid one. Still, the satyr was not so eager to meet his reaper just yet. Silently, he got back to his search, throwing boxes to the ground as he tore through the shelves.

“No response? As I expected. I have heard rumours about your so called ‘heroic’ deeds. Rarely do they mention those that you left behind as you fled.” The tempo of steel striking steel increased as Grante doubled his efforts to get through the door. “Are you truly so much of a coward that you would let others die in your place?”

Ace blocked out the minotaur’s words as he reached the final shelf. He was all too familiar with taunting as a strategy. It was one of his favourite and most used techniques after all. Finally, the satyr pulled the last box off the shelf, ripping the lid off to reveal its much-welcomed contents. The box was filled with an assortment of pouches, a knife, a brown coat, a wrist-mounted card holder and, of course, a deck of cards.

“Always in the last place you look.” Ace commented with a rueful shake of his head.

Swiftly, he began to equip his gear, even as the door behind him gave a final screeching protest and fell to the ground. Ace could hear the heavy steps of Grante as he strode into the room, the minotaur’s hooves clanging against the destroyed door.

“At last. Let us end this.”

Turning, Ace grinned at his opponent as he adjusted his belt. For the first time since meeting Grante, he felt confident staring down the minotaur. With an idle flick of his wrist, a card shot down his sleeve and into his hand.

“Agreed.”

Author's Note

Bit of a shorter one. Not much else to say about it.

One-Bull Stampede

It was a herculean effort on Ace’s part to keep a firm gaze levelled at Grante. The minotaur was a naturally intimidating opponent and the fact that he was blocking the room’s only exit only served to amplify that fact. Clutching his knife in one sweaty hand and a card in the other, the satyr began to consider his options.

Grante was clearly a better direct combatant than him. The minotaur enforcer had already displayed his awesome strength, not to mention his surprising speed. Those lethal axes didn’t allow for any mistakes either. No matter how fast Ace dodged, Grante only had to catch him out once to give the evidence room a new crimson paint job.

Ace frowned in thought as he took in his opponent more carefully. Other than his axes, Grante didn’t appear to have any other weapons or tools on him. The barely-fitting shirt didn’t exactly leave much room for concealed equipment. Perhaps that could be used against him?

The thief’s thoughts were interrupted as he was forced to jerk his head to the side, barely avoiding an axe that went whistling through the space where his brain had been a few seconds earlier. Ace watched as it slammed into the far wall, embedding itself there. A witty comment about Grante’s accuracy was hastily abandoned as the minotaur himself thundered towards him. Ace barely managed to throw himself out of the way, slamming into one of the shelves that lined the room as he did so. Grante carried on going, eventually skidding smoothly to a stop at the far end of the room at easily retrieving his axe from the wall.

“So are we going to do this or not?” Grante rumbled.

Ace’s eyes flashed between the minotaur and the now empty door before he grinned, “Nah, another time maybe?”

With a quick flip of his arm, Ace sent the card his was holding, a Seven of Diamonds, directly at Grante’s face. As soon as the card was away, he turned and began a mad dash for the door. Ace smiled as the room burst into light. Just as he reached the portal, the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end. Trusting his instincts, Ace threw himself to the ground, hands covering his head. Barely a moment later an axe head screamed overhead, taking a huge bite out of the door frame before it fell to the ground.

Over the sheer terrifying knowledge that he had just barely avoided being bisected, Ace noticed that it wasn’t a full axe that had come flying at him this time. It was simply the head of the weapon, a chain connected to the bottom of it that led all the way back to the handle that Grante was holding in his right hand. With his other axe, the minotaur was guarding his face, undoubtedly protecting his eyes from the blinding flash of the Diamond card. He lowered the weapon to reveal a smug little smile.

“You didn’t really think that I would fall for the same trick you use every time you hit one of our operations?” He shook his head in disappointment, “Do you really think we’re that stupid?”

Ace staggered back to his hooves and shrugged, “I kinda hoped. Chain-axes though? Really?”

Grante frowned, “What’s wrong with chain-axes? I like them.”

“I don’t know. It just…it seems a bit ostentatious you know?”

“This coming from the one who uses playing cards. Besides, I’ll have you know that chain-axes are a very practical weapon. People kept trying to run away from me.”

“Fair play then.” Ace conceded before whipping his arm forward in two quick motions, sending two cards flying directly towards Grante’s legs.

The minotaur’s impressive reactions allowed him to move one leg backwards and out of the way but, as he did so, it meant he had to put all his weight on the other leg, leaving it defenceless. The enforcer grunted in pain as his leg was hit with the strength of a rock flung from a slingshot. For a moment, he wavered, and it looked like his titanic bulk was going to fall. To Ace’s disappointment though, the minotaur rallied, slamming his other leg down and stabilising himself.

As soon as Grante was sure of his footing again, Ace was forced to dive away from the door, his only escape route. In a second, the enforcer had managed to cross the room and had his axes swinging in deadly arcs. Unlike his last charge though, this time the minotaur managed to control his stop earlier to swing about and continue attacking the escaping satyr. As soon as Ace had completed his roll and was back on his hooves he was springing into the air, an axe whistling past below him. Without a firm grounding though, Ace was left helpless as Grante’s other axe came about, looking to bury itself in the thief’s chest. He barely managed to get his knife up in time, the small blade looking pathetic as the axe slammed into it. Even with both hands holding the knife, Ace could barely prevent Grante’s casual backhanded swing from tearing straight through him. It was a testament to Iron Will’s skill at the forge that the knife didn’t simply shatter on impact with the much large weapon. Though he did manage to stop the blow from killing him, Ace was still sent flying by the sheer force of it, flipping once in the air to smoothly land back on his hooves facing his foe, his tail whipping out behind him.

Back in the doorway that he had started in, Grante smiled, “Well done. I thought for sure that I had you then. Even with the research I have done on you, you continue to surprise me.”

Rather than respond, Ace chose to finish this quickly. One swing of his arm sent three cards flying at the minotaur, who raised his axes defensively in response. Another swing, another three cards flew through the air. Ace spun on one hoof, bringing his arm round again to release another three cards. Flashes of light and brutal impacts slammed into both the axes and the minotaur’s body. With each hit, Grante let out a grunt of pain, a particularly powerful blow even managing to get a bellow from him. Ace was relentless though, continuing his dance. He was spinning like a dervish now, each spin, each movement, sending more and more cards at the enforcer. With each step he took, he got closer to his opponent and the escape that his foe guarded.

He was within range of the axes now, and they both knew it. With a furious roar, Grante gave up his defence and swung both blades towards Ace’s undefended chest. Simultaneously, Ace’s right hoof shot out, hooking around the minotaur’s sturdy leg, whilst the thief leaned back impossibly. Against anyone less flexible, Grante would have undoubtedly cut them in two and left a happy minotaur. But Ace had been practicing tricks like this in front of judging audiences since he was little more than a boy. Using the minotaur as tether, Ace let his entire body weight rest on his left leg as he leaned back.

Realising his mistake, Grante desperately tried to get his axes back from their overextended swing. But Ace was already right in front of him, the thief having recovered from his acrobatics with remarkable swiftness. A sad frown adorned Ace’s face as he gently pressed a final card to the minotaur’s chest. Instantly, Grante’s arms went limp, his axes falling from his hands with a clatter. He stared straight ahead, past the opponent he had been trying so hard to kill and into the far distance. Mouth opening and shutting in vain, Grante fell to his knees with a thud, brought down by a far inferior foe.

“If it’s any consolation,” Ace said, his voice soft, “I really don’t like using these ones. But you forced my hand.”

Stepping around the frozen giant, Ace silently left the room, casting one pained gaze back at the minotaur before he left. Without the satyr to hold it there, the card slowly drifted to the ground in front of the stunned Grante. From the card, two women levelled equally pitying looks at the defeated axe-wielder.

The Queen of Spades.

Ace grimaced as he quickly walked his way through the empty station towards the rear exit. Using the fear cards always left a bad taste in his mouth, despite the fact that they were probably one of the most effective weapons in his arsenal. As he walked, he pulled up his sleeve and checked on the state of his deck. He had used up an awful lot of cards in that fight, almost all of the weaker Clubs and Diamonds, had been thrown. Thankfully, the most powerful ones remained, ready for a dire emergency. They would replace themselves eventually, Ace knew, but it was still worrying to go for a while without some of his most reliable tools. Early on in his adventures he had discovered that, with time, the deck would replenish the cards that had been used. The time taken appeared to depend upon the strength of the card used. Weaker cards, like the Two of Clubs, would return in only a couple of hours. Ace wasn’t entirely sure how long it took for the stronger cards as he had carefully avoided using them. If a Three of Clubs could knock a pony out, what could a King, or even an Ace, do?

The satyr didn’t like to think about that much.

The few remaining Guards in the station were easily evaded as he approached the exit. The clattering of hooves had a tendency to give them away, allowing Ace to conceal himself and allow them to pass before continuing his journey. Stepping out into the open air, the thief took a deep breath of freedom and grinned. Things had looked a bit hairy back there for a bit, but he had pulled through.

He started a quick stride across the Guard’s empty training yard, passing through a large iron gate and entering the maze of alleyways. The scent of spilled beer, piss and the various debris of an uncaring city hit him instantly, stinging his eyes and reminding him fondly of home. He tugged at his coat, adjusting the cuffs slightly, before preparing to stride off into the familiar labyrinth.

“Hey,” A rough feminine voice called out from above him. Ace craned his neck upwards to see the predatory grin of a griffon. Spinning idly round one of her talons was a pair of handcuffs and the look in her eyes seemed to be daring him to try and run, “Heading my way?”

Author's Note

Sorry I missed last week's update. Blame the brain farts.

Players and Pawns

Ace’s day was not going very well at all. First he had been seen at a crime scene, thus ending up on the Royal Guard’s radar once again. Then his plan to recruit some criminals from the inside of a jailhouse had been thrown off by one disturbingly stubborn minotaur. And now, having finally left said minotaur behind, he was confronted with yet another person who seemed to be after his head. Well at least it was a griffon this time. He could never be accused of not having racially diverse enemies.

The griffoness allowed her handcuffs to stop spinning so she could devote all her attention into glaring at him, “So, what happened to your minotaur friend?”

For a moment, Ace was honestly confused. Had she really not noticed what was happening in the station? “We had something of a falling out.” He eventually answered.

“No honour among thieves eh?” She snorted. “I suppose you know who I am.”

An artfully raised eyebrow was his response, “Can’t really say I do. Have we met before?”

“Don’t play dumb with me. We’ve been on your trail for months now.” Seeing the satyr’s bemused expression she turned up the power on her glare. “Summit Investigations? Canterlot’s number one investigative service? Ringing any bells yet?”

Ace sucked air in through his teeth, “Sorry, detective agencies aren’t really my area of speciality. I tend to work on the other side of the law.”

“Yeah, we noticed.” The griffoness said flatly, “Okay then, what about Baltimare? We almost caught you there. Had your safe house surrounded and everything.”

“That was you?! I wondered how the Guard managed to find me so quick.” He looked around quickly, noting that the only escape from the yard was currently covered by the detective. Not to mention that, even if he did try running past her, she still had wings. And talons. Really sharp looking talons. “Don’t suppose I could get a name? You already know so much about me. Seems rude not to extend the same courtesy.”

She snorted again, something she seemed fond of doing around him, “Detective First Class Rosamund. Now, be a good criminal and get on the ground with your limbs spread flat.”

Ignoring her request, Ace continued. “Now then Rosamund-“

“Detective.”

“What?”

“Call me Detective. You don’t get to use my name.”

Ace shrugged and nodded, “Very well. Now then Rose,” He barely restrained a smile at the furious look on her face, “You and I seem to have gotten off on the wrong foot. Hoof. Paw? Whatever. I’m actually a nice guy, despite what you might have heard. Besides,” He stopped and stared at her, his usually whimsical eyes completely serious, “There are far worse people out there than me. People who desperately need to be found and stopped. Permanently.”

Rosamund seemed taken aback by the thief’s sudden change of tone, “What in the world are you talking about?”

A blinding smile quickly replaced Ace’s morose expression. “Nothing at all Rose-y. Just a moment of soul-crushing depression brought on by the realisation that ‘fairness’ is a completely arbitrary concept that the universe outright refuses to acknowledge.

The detective stared at him for a moment, open mouthed, “What?”

“But not to worry, I’m back now and realising that this confrontation with you, directly after one of the more difficult fights I’ve ever had, is not due to coincidence but instead can be blamed entirely on cosmic bloodlust.”

“Okay, that’s fine. I guess.” Rosamund said with a shake of her head, “Are you going to be quiet and under arrest now or do I have to come down there and make you be?”

“No can do I’m afraid.” He smiled, “This meeting has dragged on far too long and I believe my next appointment is here.”

Rosmaund’s eyes widened as she realised what he meant. However, before she could do anything about it a flying kick slammed into the side of her head. The griffon detective was sent flying off her perch by the force of the blow, eventually landing with a clatter in the station’s large rubbish bin. Ace looked up at his saviour, a young pegasus mare who looked quite familiar. She also appeared to be hyperventilating and was staring at the downed detective with wide eyes.

“Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear.” She muttered again and again like a mantra, “Is she okay? I didn’t mean to…Oh Celestia, I’m in so much trouble. Why did I do that?”

“Well I’m not complaining.”

The mare, however, appeared to not be paying any attention to him. “She said she was a detective. That’s like a Guard right? I just kicked a Guard off a building. No, no, no. What was I thinking?”

Seeing that, at the moment, there was no getting through to the panicked pegasus, Ace simply shrugged and moved over to the bin, peering inside. Thankfully, the bin hadn’t been emptied yet, meaning that Rosamund’s fall had been broken by a large pile of torn up paper and rotting food. Her breathing appeared to be stable and a quick inspection revealed that there was no blood. From the look of things, there wouldn’t be any permanent damage. Still, just to be sure, Ace drew a card and pressed it down onto the griffon’s forehead, carefully concealing the movement from the pegasus behind him. The Five of Hearts should be more than enough to deal with a minor injury like that. The detective might not be happy when she woke up, not to mention in need of a shower, but at least she would be alive. Turning away, Ace walked back to the new arrival.

“Good kick.” He said, craning his neck up to where she was perched. Between Grante, Rosamund and this newcomer, Ace was getting tired of having to look up to talk to everyone. It was going to end up seriously damaging his neck muscles.

“And then they’ll send me to a maximum security prison. I’ll never survive there I tell you, not with these hips. The mares there will eat me alive. Wait, what did you say?” She finally seemed to snap out of her daydream and notice Ace.

“Good kick. Smooth entry, you got a good arc on it and even managed to get her directly into the bin. Nailed the landing too.” He gave her a thumbs up, “Ten points.”

“You!”

“Me.” Ace nodded at the accurate, if not overly specific, statement.

“Back in the station, you managed to open a cell door with one of my feathers. How’d you do that?”

That explains why she seemed so familiar, “Seriously? That’s what you want to know?”

“Well no,” The mare frowned, “I also want you teach me how to do it.”

The satyr stared at her for a moment before sighing and dragging a hand through his hair, “Okay, first things first. What’s your name?”

“Gale Force.”

“Okay Miss Force. Do you mind terribly if we discuss this elsewhere?” He gestured round at the fact that they were still in the yard of the Trottingham Guard Station, “This really isn’t the time or the place you understand.”

“Right, right.” She nodded, “So, back to your base?”

Ace barely managed to repress another sigh as the pegasus glided down and joined him on the ground, the two quickly disappearing into the alleyways of Trottingham. It had been a long day.

When Rosamund finally came too, it was to one of the few sights in the world that she outright dreaded. The steady glare of Brow Beat and the curious gaze of Brain Storm. The two ponies were looking over at her from the edge of a large bin. A bin, she realised, that she was currently inside.

Never before had she so regretted having a sense of smell.

“Ugh, I stink.” She groaned as she slowly attempted to regain her footing.

Brain Storm nodded, his face completely serious, “Agreed. I am glad that you have finally come to acknowledge your deficit.”

She glared at her fellow detective, “Was that supposed to be a joke?”

“My apologies.” He replied, sounding honestly confused, “I was under the impression that ‘stink’ was commonly used as a catch-all term for inferiority. I heard it used quite commonly in insults.”

Rosamund sighed in defeat. This wasn’t the first time Brain had screwed up simple social etiquette like this. Probably wouldn’t be the last either. “Yeah, I bet you hear that insult all the time.”

“Correct,” He shrugged his scrawny shoulders, “Though I believe my insulters to have been delusion. A quick comparison of our intellects proved me to be the far superior.” He smiled in a way that managed to be both smug and slightly malicious at the same time, “The evidence doesn’t lie.”

“Enough.” The much gruffer voice of Brow Beat interrupted before Rosamund could make a satisfactory comeback. “The target escaped.” The griffon found herself wilting slightly under the old earth pony’s scowl, “Explain.”

“Could you help me out of this bin first? I’d really rather not tell the story from inside here.”

Reaching inside, Brow grabbed her extended and, with a grunt, yanked her out, almost throwing her through the air at the same time. He must really not be happy. Although, Rosamund couldn’t easily recall a time the more experienced detective had ever been happy.

As she told her tale, from arriving in Trottingham to being blindsided and knocked into the bin, Brow Beat’s scowl steadily deepened until, by the end of the explanation, he resembled a frown with legs more than an actual pony.

“You messed up.” He said simply.

“I know but-“

“No. You messed up and let our target escape. You got proud, and arrogant. Thought you could take him on alone.” Rosamund could barely meet his eyes, which burned with an intensity that she had never seen in the normally stoic detective. “He could have killed you. You’re damned lucky he didn’t.”

“Boss, I-“

“I’m not finished!” He roared, causing both Rosamund and Brain Storm to leap away from him. “What’s the first thing I taught you? The first sun-blasted lesson I taught you?”

“We’re a team.” She muttered, staring down at the floor.

“What was that?” His bellowed, reminding the griffon that he had once been a Sergeant in the Royal Guard and had probably done this to a thousand recruits. It was embarrassing to the extreme for the proud griffon to be treated like a rookie.

“We’re a team!”

“Damn right we are. So what in Tartarus were you thinking when you tried to engage the target alone? What? You thought you’d come swaggering in with the bastard all wrapped up in chains like some big bad huntress?” Rosamund barely suppressed her discomfort as Brow seemed to practically read her mind. “Well look how well that turned out.” He sighed, the anger seeming to drain out of him in a second. In a much calmer voice he continued. “Now tell me, what should you have done?”

“Sir?”

“I didn’t train you to be an idiot Rose. Look back over what happened and tell me what you should have done.”

Rosamund thought about it for a moment. “As soon as I knew that he would escape I should have waited on the roofs and then followed him back to his base of operations. Once identified, I should have waited for you to arrive and, depending on the size of the base, also called in additional reinforcements from the local Guard.”

Brow Beat nodded in satisfaction, “Correct. And in future you’ll do just that. Right?”

“Yes sir!” She shouted, feeling the inexplicable urge to salute.

“Good. Now then, looks like we might be here a while after all. Best to co-ordinate our efforts with the local Guards.” He sniffed, “And I think you could use a bath.” Turning around, Brow Beat strode towards the station, the two junior detectives following him wordlessly.

A particularly bad bump in the road woke up the minotaur. Grante’s eyes snapped open, darting round to take in his surroundings. He appeared to be in a large caged wagon and, if the mountain range he could make out just on the edge of his vision was correct, he was also heading towards Canterlot. The enforcer was no fool and realised what had happened immediately. Somehow, Ace had defeated him and left him there. The remaining Guards must have been quick to capitalise on his helplessness. If he had to guess, he was probably being passed up the chain of command so that he was someone else’s problem.

An unfortunate consequence of him letting loose back in the Guard station meant that the ponies had taken no chances with him. The amount of chains weighing on him pressed down on Grante. He could barely even move his fingers with how his arms had been restrained, and his legs weren’t much better.

“Can’t help but noticed that you failed in that overwhelmingly simple task I set you.” A voice echoed inside the minotaur’s head, making him wince in pain as a dull throbbing began at the back of his skull. Even worse than that though was the fact that the voice sounded slightly amused.

“I’m sorry sir. I underestimated my opponent. I assure you that it will not happen again.” Grante replied, causing the pony Guards that surrounded his mobile cell to look at him in confusion. “I will finish the job.”

“Don’t bother. He’s probably already gone to ground and you aren’t exactly the most subtle tracker.” The voice laughed, “Besides, with any luck you’ll have scared him enough that he won’t mess with us again.”

“You don’t honestly believe that do you sir?” The Guards around him were backing off now, weapons ready and horns glowing as he continued to ignore them and talk to himself.

A sigh, “No, but it’s nice to dream. Anyway, hurry up and escape already. Then return to base and wait for the blasted satyr to pop his head up again.”

“Yes sir.” Grante said before yanking at the chains that held him down. Surprisingly the metal held. No matter how the minotaur moved, he was just too well held down to escape his bonds. “Ah, I may have a problem sir. These are very good restraints.”

“Really? I thought ponies were crap at making this stuff.”

“Perhaps they had help? I understand that many minotaur tribes are becoming more and more eager to trade for Equestrian goods.”

“Huh. Well hurray for international trade I guess. Alright, I’ll help you out then. Better brace yourself.”

“Oh dear,” The enforcer muttered to himself as he felt something terrible begin to shift deep inside his chest, pumping a foul liquid into his muscles. He turned his head as much as he could to look the nearest Guard in the eye, “I am so sorry for what is about to happen.”

Before the Guard could respond, the Black Brew reached Grante’s brain, the minotaur’s eyes turning completely black as he felt an irrational rage overtake him. With one mighty roar, the chains that held him bound shattered, the cell bars following shortly afterwards. Then Grante was among the helpless Guards, laying into them with Brew-enhanced blows that shattered bodies in one hit. All the while, cruel laughter filled the minotaur’s head.

“Goddamn it is a pleasure to watch you work.”

Author's Note

The cast increases.

Partners

“So this is what you call a lair?” Gale asked, looking around disdainfully.

It was true that the hideout was not much to look at, Ace had to admit, though it had a certain hidden beauty about it. For one thing, rent was cheap and the landlord didn’t ask annoying questions like ‘who are you?’ and ‘are you doing anything illegal?’ Secondly, it had everything a good safe house needed. It was inconspicuous, the windows were covered by so much grime that it was practically like they had blackout blinds and it was only a few minutes away from a decent fast food joint. Ace really didn’t see what she was complaining about.

“Okay, firstly, it’s a safe house. Not a lair. Lairs are for supervillains and disturbed folk with too much time on their hands. And secondly, we’re not even staying here for very long, just long enough for us to get this whole mess sorted. Now,” He sat down on the wooden crate that served as his table and gave her a pointed look, “Why exactly did you help me?”

She suddenly looked very nervous, scraping one hoof across the floor, taking away years of carefully collected mould in the process, “Well, that was a bit spur of the moment I admit. Basically, I want you to train me how to do what you do.”

“Do what I do?”

She stomped a hoof, “Yes! The lockpicking! And whatever else you can do. I’ve been a thief for most of my life and thought I was pretty good at it. But then you come along and pick a cell door in a few seconds…with nothing but a wing feather!”

Ace couldn’t help the smug grin that took over his face. He was a performer at heart and it was nice to hear some praise every once in a while, “That was pretty good. But what makes you think I’m going to train you to be a thief, I’m just a humble stage magician.”

“Really?” She raised an eyebrow, “A stage magician who has his own safe house. A stage magician who goes around getting thrown through police station walls and battling giant minotaurs? Or was that part of your show as well?”

The lie died on Ace’s lips, “We may have gone a bit off script.”

“Then you must work with some great actors because it honestly looked like he was trying to kill you!” She did not seem amused.

“Fine, so I haven’t actually done any stage shows in a while, but I’m not exactly a normal thief either you know. Hell, look around,” He waved a hand, encompassing the dingy room, “It ain’t like I’m drowning in riches here. Why would you want me to teach you?”

“’Cus you’re the best I’ve seen.” Ace’s head shot up at that, “Yeah, I’ve been around criminals most of my life, was practically raised by them you might say. But even the most skilled of them are two-bit grifters and pickpockets. I want to be the best, and that means training with the best.”

“You realise that to be the best you’d have to be better than me at the very least?”

“Yes, once I’ve learnt everything you can teach I shall surpass you and become the greatest thief in the world.” The surety in which she said this statement was mind boggling.

“Well, at least you’re honest.”

She beamed.

“…Which is a bad thing in our profession.”

Her face dropped instantly.

“But, by crazy random happenstance, I am actually looking for some companions to join me on a rousing adventure to defeat the forces of evil.”

“Wait, hold on a second,” She was frowning now, “What do you mean forces of evil? Aren’t we the forces of evil?”

Ace shook his head, “You’ve been reading too much right-wing literature. We’re more like the,” He furrowed his brows as he searched for the correct term, “…The forces of not-quite-good. There is way worse things than us out there. Things that would see the world in ruin if given half the chance.”

“Isn’t fighting those sorts of things the job of the forces of Quite-Good?” She asked.

“Technically,” He replied with a shrug, “But it’s our world as well, and we sort of need it. I keep all my stuff here. Be a bit pissed if it was all destroyed.”

“So you’re fighting against some big bad evil?”

“Pretty much.” He cocked his head at her, “I must say you’re taking all this awfully well. Especially considering you were freaking out about hitting that detective ten minutes ago.”

She awkwardly rubbed her forelegs together, seemingly just remembering what she had done, “Yeah but this is Equestria. A world-threatening evil seems to pop up every other week so after a while you just get used to it. Hitting a police officer though, that’s different.” She sucked in a breath, “That’s illegal!”

Ace opened his mouth to respond and then paused, staring straight at the confounding pegasus. “You…you do realise that we’re criminals. You know that right? You said you wanted to be the greatest thief in the world but you’re afraid of breaking the law? How did you even get into this profession?”

“Yeah, I’m not an idiot.” She snorted, “But there’s a difference between stealing a purse and assaulting an officer of the law.”

Ace mulled that over before nodding, “Point.” He then swung himself up from his seat and towered over the pony, “So, back to business. You want to come with me to face the forces of evil, become a great thief and maybe learn some valuable life lessons about friendship and whatnot?”

“Do I?!” She was practically jumping on the spot in excitement. “I always wanted to be a hero.”

Ace grimaced, “Please don’t use the H word.” Shaking it off, he stuck out his hand to Gale, “What do you say? Apprentice?”

Overtaken by enthusiasm, she stuck a hoof forward to shake before what the satyr had said fully hit her, causing her to yank her leg back and glare up at him. “Partners.”

“Fine,” Ace sighed to conceal his smile. Maybe she wouldn’t be completely hopeless after all. “Partners it is.”

They shook on it firmly. Each one watching the other for any sign of deception. Apparently satisfied, Gale pulled back first and looked over at her new companion in crime.

“So then, what’s our first move?” She asked, honestly curious how the big league thieves worked.

Ace had already moved across the room, throwing what few belongings he had into a bag which was then thrown onto his back. “The same as our previous move, we leave.”

“This dump?”

The satyr spared a few seconds to look offended before he threw a second bag over to Gale, “No, the city. I’ve already attracted too much attention here so it’s time to move on. Besides, I’ve already done all that I came here to do.”

“So we’re running?” She said, lifting the bag onto her back and balancing it between her wings.

“To put it bluntly, yes.” He replied before heaving open the slightly rotted door and walking out without a second glance.

Sighing, Gale quickly hurried after her fellow thief. It seemed the more things changed, the more they stayed the same.

He awoke to the smell of blood.

Slowly, like a child waking up on a school day, Grante opened his eyes, blinking them clear as he took in his surroundings. He appeared to be in a cave. Unfamiliar walls of rough stone surrounded him whilst a dampness hung heavy in the air. Carefully raising his large body up, wincing at the aches that inhabited his muscles, he approached one wall to examine it. The rock was more than just rough, it was freshly cut. Though ‘cut’ was a bit of an optimistic description. It looked more like huge chunks had been ripped out of it by something with wicked claws.

Sighing, Grante headed towards the mouth of the cave. He had a suspicion of what had happened, but needed to confirm it to himself. Sure enough, as he stepped into the blinding sunlight, he almost tripped on a pile of rubble that lay haphazardly outside the cave. He wearily lifted his own hands in front of him, seeing for the first time the deep cuts and the shards of rock that were buried in his thick skin.

“I’ve got to say, I like what you’ve done with the place.” A grating voice called out to him from his right.

Grante instantly swung around, his fists coming up into a familiar stance as he prepared to attack the intruder. Standing in front of him was a chocolate brown unicorn stallion, smirking at the minotaur’s reaction. For a moment, Grante considered carrying through and striking the smug look off the pony’s face. It was something that he had been wanting to do for a very long time. Eventually though, he lowered his fists.

“Grin.”

“Grante.” Gleaming Grin nodded, “Word on the ol’ grapevine is that you fucked up royal. Who woulda’ thought it right?”

“What do you want here Grin?” The enforcer growled, not willing to let the self-absorbed unicorn get lost in his rambling.

“Bit rude. What’s wrong Horns? Not feeling up to an old tongue wag?” Grin sauntered forwards with deliberate slowness before seating himself on the pile of rocks. He lifted one hoof up before examining the underside, tutting to himself as he did so. “Damn. I just got these buffed you know. Shame you’re not more talkative. I always did enjoy our conversations.”

“Go fuck yourself.”

“See? Soul of a poet you have Horns.” Grin shot his namesake at Grante, adding in a wink as well.

“I am going to give you five seconds to explain why I should not bury you in this cave.” Grante said, tightening his hand into a fist once more.

Rather than being intimidated as most sane people would, Grin just shook his head in disappointment. “See, that’s your problem. You pretend to be this upright gentleman, apologizing to folks and tipping your hat. But, at the end of the day, you’re still just another minotaur. A big brute good for hitting people and little else.”

Roaring, Grante swung a huge fist at the unicorn, seeking to smash the pony’s face in. Just as he was about to lean into the swing, his body froze up, holding him in place with unnatural force. No matter how much he tried, his body refused to move against the invisible bonds that held him back. In front of him, Grin stared up at the minotaur, a hint of sadness in his eyes.

“And, when you can’t solve your problems with violence, you really don’t know how to solve them at all do you?” The pony sighed before standing up and walking around the statue that was Grante, “See, the boss is a wee bit displeased with you. Something about you screwing up one of the best chances we had to remove Ace permanently. Personally, I don’t see why we have to kill him at all. Everyone’s got a price after all.” Grin frowned for a moment, “But I digress.”

Grin lightly tapped one hoof on the ground and, instantly, Grante felt his muscles return to his control. Stumbling slightly, he managed to catch himself before he fell. Once he managed to stand back up fully again, he glared at Grin.

“Please don’t try that again. I told you, the boss ain’t happy with you, meaning for the time being he’s given your leash over to me.” The unicorn smirked and raised an eyebrow, “Just imagine all the fun we could have with this.”

Grante, through incredible mental discipline, managed to restrain the urge to try and bash the unicorn’s head in again.

“Shame we’re on company time. Maybe some other time eh?”

Steadily ignoring the stallion, Grante grunted, “So what? Am I supposed to follow you around until we deal with this problem?”

“No, you misunderstand. I shall deal with the Ace problem, you shall be a good little thug and go and guard our remaining assets. We’ve lost far too much to this guy already. Our people are beginning to lose faith in their leadership.” For the first time, Grin’s eyes turned hard as he practically growled, “Show them that we’re still on top.”

Not wanting to verbalise the fact that he actually agreed with his colleague, Grante simply nodded. “And you? Ace is well known for his disappearing tricks. How exactly are you planning to track him down?”

The stallion simply smiled, “Please Horns, a gal’s got to have some secrets right?”

Author's Note

Apologies for the wait, getting back into the uni life has been far more trouble than I thought it would be. Anyways, have a chapter and remember to like and comment. My drug's attention and you guys are my dealers.

Arrival

The station was a mess, to put it lightly. The few uninjured guards, most of whom had been off-duty at the time of the rampage, desperately tried to get things back in order. The majority of the force had been injured attempting to stop the minotaur that had efficiently ripped both their station and their confidence to tatters. It was plain to see in the postures of the ponies at work. The slumped shoulders of the stallion putting destroyed work desks in a pile. The confused eyes of a mare pouring over documentation at one of the few surviving work stations.

Brow Beat led his team through the wreckage to the area that had been put aside from them. His eyes remained dead ahead, glued to the middle distance and firmly not looking around at the remains of the Trottingham Guard. As they passed, sideways glances and whispered comments followed them. It was to be expected after all. These ponies had been completely helpless against the attack and now some bigwig Canterlot detectives are coming in to take over. No one would be happy about that. Still, they had reluctantly accommodated the team, even going so far as to give them a miraculously intact table, something that had recently become a rare commodity. Brow Beat could be persuasive like that.

“Okay,” The older stallion spoke, whirling round to glare at his two subordinates, “What do we know?”

With barely a moment hesitation, Brain Storm stepped forwards, already anticipating his boss’s brusque question. “At 1:35AM this morning Ace was taken into custody by the Trottingham Guard on suspicion of arson. By all accounts, other than a fight with cellmate, presumably defensive, he was a model prisoner. He didn’t even try to escape. At 4:15PM he received a visit from his legal consultant, a minotaur whose papers identified him as one Mr. Law Bound. The papers were all in order, though now we know they were simple exceptional forgeries, so they allowed him to meet with Ace.”

“This is where things get a little complicated, and a lot strange.” Rosamund spoke up, taking over seamlessly from her partner, “I saw this ‘Law Bound’ entering the station and, thinking he was one of Ace’s accomplices, waited outside to stop their inevitable escape. Lo and behold, after about half an hour and a lot of noise, out comes Ace, casual as you please.”

“And you failed to stop him because?” Brow raised one of those terrifying eyebrows.

“I…was ambushed.” She hung her head, “Something came out of nowhere and took me out. Sorry boss.”

He grunted and turned to Brain.

“Hmm? Oh yes right.” The thin pegasus turned to his griffin partner and peered closely at the side of her head, “Hold still please. Yes, bruising matches pattern of horseshoe. Female, going by the size, and a fairly cheap shoe as well. A good possibility that whoever attacked you is going to need to replace that shoe. Your head likely managed to bend it out of shape.” He gave her one of his odd smiles, “Well done, you have an exceptionally dense head for a griffon.”

She snorted, “Thanks. I’m so proud.”

“Brain, get on with it.”

“Right, sorry boss.” He stepped back from the table, “Taking into account Rosamund’s elevated position, combined with the force needed to launch her from the roof, I believe your attacker was a pegasus mare with an athletic build and a fondness for purple shoe-paint.” He frowned for a moment, “Either that or an earth pony willing to launch herself from a catapult.”

“I think we’ll stick with the pegasus theory for now, thanks Brain.” Rose shook her head, “But purple shoe-paint? Seriously?”

He nodded confidently, “Yes, most definitely. Particulates were left on the side of your head. Likely a cheap brand of paint considering how much was left.”

“Ugh, another reason to get a shower. And soon.”

Brow Beat, evidently getting bored with their back and forth, simply levelled a glare at them, causing his junior detectives to instantly snap to attention. “Enough, you can pretty yourself up after we’re done here. Brain, you said earlier that you had a theory to share with us?”

Instead of replying immediately, the pegasus reached around to the saddlebags that rested alongside his wings and pulled out a large piece of rolled up parchment, quickly laying it on the table and spreading it out to reveal a detailed map of Equestria. Over half of the major cities had been circled.

“These,” Brain announced, “Are the cities in which Ace has committed a major crime. Burglary, confidence trickery, destruction of private property, arson. Each time he comes to a city he stays less than a week, usually in a whirlwind of crime. Afterwards, with whatever goal he has completed, he leaves. I have identified a common trait with each city he has hit though. He always destroys property belonging to a major shipping company.”

“Which company?” Rosamund asked immediately.

“It changed each time, though they must have something in common. Move It Inc. Shipping and Handling. Air Mail. The strange thing is, none of these companies have even heard of their destroyed properties. Each building that Ace has hit has been fraudulent.”

If Brow was shocked by the news, he certainly didn’t show it. “So what is this guy after then?”

“Not sure. Each scene was left completely clean, nothing but ashes and rubble. Whatever those buildings contained was destroyed.” Brow Beat frowned at the young pegasus, clearly not happy with the answer.

“But!” Rose interjected to her partner’s relief, “Before I was attacked, Ace told me that there were far worse things out there than him. Things that had to be stopped.”

“Hmm,” Brow grunted, momentarily satisfied, “Okay then, so he’s a thief playing hero. I can buy that. What about this minotaur?”

Rose and Brain both winced slightly at the mention of the minotaur. By the time they had recovered Rose and got back to the station, the Guards, not wanting to deal with the creature that had lain waste to the station and the majority of their comrades, had sent the problem up the ladder. Which of course meant that they had thrown their best lead in a cage and sent him off to Canterlot to be handled by some stuffy pencil pusher. Brow had not been happy about that and had made his displeasure known, quite verbally.

“Don’t know much about him,” Rose took the lead, “Fake name obviously and the recording crystals were removed in the room that he and Ace met in so whatever they talked about is still between them. However, when he was found he was unconscious in the evidence room surrounded by playing cards. Playing cars which, after a few minutes, burst into flames and disappeared.” She ran one claw over her head, “Magic, though the unicorns on site were unable to identify what kind. We’ll have to wait for news back from Canterlot to know more but I’d put good money down on him working for whatever enemy Ace is after.”

“No bet.” Brow replied with a fleeting smile, “Brain, can you tell us where he’ll be going next.”

Brain, who had been pouring over his map whilst Rose had been talking, looked up at his boss. “Well, there is three main cities with large import and export businesses that Ace has yet to hit. The closest one I believe we can rule out for obvious reasons.”

“And why’s that?”

“Well, it’s…”

“…Cloudsdale!” Ace cried happily as he leaned forward in the basket. Next to him, Gale sighed as the other passengers sent them weary glances.

The air bus, essentially a glorified hot air balloon, was the cheapest way to get to the floating city for anyone who lacked wings. The cost of the trip really shined through. The basket was ratty and looked like it was about to fall through at any moment, something the wingless passengers seemed to hold in constant terror. The balloon, that giant piece of cloth that kept them all from falling to a long and messy death, was held together by sewn-upon patches of differently coloured cloth, giving the impression that the proprietor, a slick looking unicorn who had refused to join them on the ride up, had stolen some poor farm pony’s patchwork pants and inflated them. The only thing more worrying was the bracelet that was currently strapped around Ace’s right leg. Supposedly it was enchanted with a Cloud Walk spell. Top of the range, the unicorn had said. Reliable, he had said. Gale thought otherwise but had barely managed to get a word in edgewise before Ace had promptly bought it and jumped onto the bus.

“Isn’t this great!” He shouted over the wind, red hair whipping around him, “I’m going to visit Cloudsdale. A floating city!”

Gale wasn’t sure how the professional thief, the same one who had seemed so calm and collected back in Trottingham, had turned into a foal the moment his hooves had left the ground. However it had happened, it was quickly beginning to wear on her nerves. The other passengers were in the same basket, both metaphorically and, to their annoyance, literally. Ace had been granted a large circle of space, quite amazing considering the small size of the air balloon’s basket. The satyr’s ability to alienate ponies was quite remarkable.

“We’re landing! This is it!”

He was thankfully right. The pilot, who looked just as grateful as everyone else that the trip was over, was bringing them in to a landing zone on the edge of the city. Even from this distance, Gale could see that the area they were landing in was more than a little rundown. The cloud layer was pulling away from the city and many of the nearby buildings were made of thinning cumulous. The pegasi that Gale could see walking around were thin and ratty, looking like it had been a long time since they had used any feather treatment or even had a proper preen.

The moment they set down, Ace had leapt out of the basket, causing Gale’s heart to jump into her throat. Amazingly, the enchanted bracelet actually worked, the lack of falling satyr encouraging the other ground-based ponies to leave the basket as well. Taking to the air, Gale glided down the street to catch up with the enthusiastic satyr.

“Where are you going?” She asked, causing him to pause in thought.

“Not sure,” He shrugged, “I suppose the first order of business is finding a good place to stay and then, after that, we can start seeing the sights.”

Gale glanced around at the dilapidated buildings. Considering the city was made entirely out of clouds, it was sort of amazing that the local residents had managed to make the slums look so dark and depressing. “What sights exactly are you expecting here?” She said, warily eyeing the ponies lurking nearby watching the new arrivals.

Ace didn’t appear to have heard the question though, instead staring around in amazement at the scenery. “You wouldn’t happen to know and good places to find a safe house nearby would you?”

“No, why would I?”

He stared at her for a moment, “Because you’re a pegasus?”

“What?” She stopped and looked up at him, “Wait, you think that every pegasus knows everything about Cloudsdale?”

He looked away awkwardly, “No?”

“I’ve never been here before either you know. I was born in Trottingham.” Her point made, she carried on walking, the embarrassed satyr quickly catching up. “Racist.” She smirked.

“Fine,” He threw his hands up in exasperation, “Let’s just find a casino instead. Those are always a good place to start. We just need to follow the sounds of money and crying.”

Gale took a moment to process what he had just said, “Wait, what?”

“You mean you don’t hear money?” He shrugged, “Weird.”

Author's Note

The part of Brain Storm is played by Matthew Gray Gubler. The part of Brow Beat is played by Mark Harmon.

Also, I'm changing my update day to Wendesdays as it fits better with my new schedule.

Dives and Dogs

The clouds were strange to walk on. Whilst the charm on him remained stable they felt firm, practically no different than a normal road. Yet, at the same time, they had a certain springiness to them. It was like walking across a bouncy castle whilst trying very hard not to bounce. Ace tried not to spare too much thought to this, though it took considerable effort to ward of the image of bounding up and down on the clouds. Instead, he turned his mind to his latest companion.

He wasn’t entirely sure what to make of Gale. She had a good head on her shoulders, no doubt about that, but at the same time she lacked the certain something that made a good thief. Ace had been working with criminals for a while and could recognize when someone didn’t have their head in the game. To him, there were three types of criminals. First, there was the reluctant ones, those forced to commit crimes for whatever reasons. They tended to be awkward and sloppy, as one would expect, and they often ended up getting caught before they even made it to the second stage. The next was professionals, which Ace proudly identified as. Crime was their livelihood, and they were damn good at it.

The last time was the most worrying. Those that committed crimes simply because they didn’t care about anyone else. They were predators, willing to chomp on everyone.
Gale was somewhere between reluctant and professional at the moment. It was clear she wanted to be a master criminal but she lacked the will to become one. Ace figured that she would tag along for a while before either taking the plunge or backing out. He wouldn’t mind her leaving to pursue a normal existence, his life wasn’t for everyone obviously.
He frowned internally, refusing to let any sign of worry reach his face, as he considered his other problem. There was almost definitely Black Brew Smugglers in Cloudsdale. The aerial city was just too good of a target to pass up. A mobile base of operations with very little oversight from most ground bound laws was a smugglers dream, not to mention Cloudsdale’s massive shipping lanes. The main question was: which area of commerce had the smugglers chosen to hide behind? Hundreds of crates of fresh fruit and vegetables were imported into the city each day, it would be a simple matter to get some of the Brew in along with them. Or perhaps it was cloud export. Cloudsdale was the largest producer of cloud architecture in Equestria. A few hollowed out clouds filled with Brew sent along with a shipment could cause untold damage.

Ace had too many suspicions, and no way of solidly confirming them.

“We’re going to need a bigger team.” He muttered out loud, getting Gale’s attention.

“Pardon?”

“A fighter definitely,” He carried on, remembering Grante, “Someone who can match that minotaur. Maybe a unicorn as well. Some magic support would be much appreciated.”

Gale was looking at him in confusion, “And where would you find some people like that?”

Ace sighed, once again regretting the fact that he was no longer on Earth. Nimble Jim would have known some people and, for a small fee, would have got a team together in just a few hours. Maybe even got Gregor in for a bit of muscle. That old bruiser could have matched Grante with ease. Unfortunately, here in Equestria, he just had to rely on dumb luck.

Slowly, a smile spread across the satyr’s face. Coming to a halt in the road, Gale almost walking into his leg, he closed his eyes and blocked out everything. He concentrated on his own instincts, knowing that, with a little luck, they would lead him true.

“Left.” He said eventually, getting another confused look from Gale, “Don’t ask me why but I’m feeling really good about left.”

He opened his eyes and turned to look. Sure enough, to their left and practically invisible in the crowded street, was a small alleyway. It wasn’t much to look at. In fact, most sensible people would have promptly looked away. The piles of refuse and patches of cloud stained yellow and other suspicious colours would have turned away any decent person. To Ace though, it held promise.

“Down there.” He announced, striding forward into the alley, Gale following with visible reluctance.

“I thought we were going to go to a casino.”

He smiled and tried not to inhale, “Change of plans, this place looks far better.”

“What pla-,” She froze, “Oh.”

She was right to be speechless. The alley opened out into a sight that few in their lifetimes get to behold. It was, to put it crudely, a dive bar. But not just any dive bar. This was the dive bar that ordinary dive bars aspired to be. The walls were freakishly patchwork, looking like clouds of different densities had been smashed together to form them. Some of these patches buzzed with the angry growling of barely restrained storms whilst their neighbours emitted rays of trapped sunlight. Windows had been carved into it and roughly filled with glass, though the layers of grime prevented anyone from actually looking through them. The pillars of cloud, a constant part of Cloudsdale architecture, were also present here, though the fact that they were held together by wood, nails and, in one part, duct tape, was not overly re-assuring. An oft-repaired sign announced the bars more than optimistic name to be ‘Elysium.’

Ace fought the urge to puke as a tear came to his eye. It was the most beautifully disgusting place he had ever seen. Like the sort of place God would go when the other, better clubs had shut and he didn’t want to go back home to his nagging wife yet.

“Let’s head inside.”

“Do we have to?” Gale protested, dragging her hooves, “Just think, if we turn around now, we could go literally anywhere else. Someplace better!” She thought over what she had just said for a second, “So yeah, literally anywhere else.”

The satyr strode forward heedlessly, “Don’t be such a downer Gale. I’m sure it’s not that bad. In fact, I think it has a sort of rustic charm to it.”

“Rusty. The word you’re looking for there is rusty.”

Ace, choosing to ignore her, opened the door and walked into the tavern’s welcoming atmosphere. In return, the atmosphere punched Ace right in the face. If some cosmic being took all the most brutal parts of every holy book in existence and turned them into a smell then they might have almost achieved something like what was now assaulting the duo’s noses. A mixture of piss, puke and, most worryingly, blood combined together to create a chemical weapon that would be considered inhuman by even the worst supervillains.

Resisting the urge to hold one hand over his nose and retreat, Ace quickly guided them to a small table out of the way and sat down, hoping that the challenging glares from the bar’s patrons would wash over them in their discrete spot.

“I wonder what’s on the menu.” Gale said, looking round for any sort of sign.

Ace raised a hand, “I’m going to stop you right there. Don’t order anything from here. Don’t even go near the bar. And for the love of whatever god you follow, do not ask them what the soup of the day is. You really don’t want to know.”

“Okay then,” The pegasus shrunk back into her chair, “So what are we even doing here?”

“Recruiting. Look around for anyone who looks like they can handle themselves in a fight. And I don’t just mean people with muscles growing on top of their muscles. I mean those real brutal bastards who know what a fight is and how to come out on top.” A quick glance around the room revealed that almost all of the patrons fit that criteria. “Okay, that’s not very helpful at all.”

“What about over there?” Gale said, nodding her head to an area over Ace’s shoulder.

Discreetly, the satyr turned to look. Grouped around one of the larger tables the pub had was a collection of ponies that could almost be described as motley by someone not overly fond of living. Even with their colourful array of coats, they managed to look dark and threatening. Perhaps it was something to do with the scars that marred their fur, or maybe the quite startling collection of weaponry they wore openly. Whatever the reason, it was not they who drew Ace’s eye. Rather, the huge specimen of pony that sat in the middle of the group, clearly the leader. Strangely enough he appeared to be a unicorn, albeit one who had the muscles of the largest earth pony. A burnt orange coat covered his bulging frame, with a spiralling horn, sharp enough to kill, exploded from a fiery mane. Ace didn’t think he would luck out quite so much. He had wanted a fighter and a unicorn. He didn’t even think that they would be the same person.

Unfortunately, the unicorn and his friends looked quite busy right now. They were gathered tightly round the table, shouts and cheers coming from them. Whatever they were doing, the wall of ponies blocked Ace from seeing it. Instead he just shrugged and turned back around before he caught any unwanted attention. They would be done soon enough and then he could go over and introduce himself. With a little luck, he could have a group recruited and ready to go by the end of the day.

“Nice work.” He said, facing Gale again, “That guy looks perfect for the-“

Ace was cut off abruptly by a bellowing scream. Activity ceased in the bar as the patrons all turned to look over at the commotion. The orange unicorn was now lying on the table, wretched sobs coming from him. His right foreleg, which hung uselessly at his side, was twisted grotesquely, the bone underneath clearly broken. His gang was now silent, staring between their boss and the other figure at the table.

Standing triumphantly over the weeping unicorn was a Diamond Dog, although it looked far different from any other Diamond Dog that Ace had met. For one thing, the curves of her body made it abundantly clear that she was female. The fur on her head was braided into dreadlocks and dyed black, looking almost like a mane that cascaded down her shoulders. What looked like leather armour, a rare sight in pony territory, covered her chest with a pair of loose canvas shorts running down to her knees. Her face was split into a wide grin, revealing a few missing teeth.

“So, I win hoof-wrestle yes?” She asked the shocked audience.

From then, several things happened at once. The unicorn’s gang, finally realising what happened, leapt over at the dog, most of them climbing on the table to get to her. Fights broke out all over the pub as, realising that things were going to get violent anyway, several patrons took the opportunity to settle some old scores. And the Diamond Dog’s grin evolved into a smirk as she grabbed the table and flipped it up into the pony’s faces, following up with a solid kick that sent the table, the majority of the pony gang and their stricken leader sprawling. The remains of the mob froze, their momentum stolen before it could even begin and, in those precious few moments, the dog was upon them. Her large paw grabbed a pegasus by the head and brought him down into her rising knee, discarding him afterwards as she smoothly turned into a backhanded strike that sent an unready stallion flying across the room. Another pegasus sent a hasty blow at her head, only to have step around it like a dancer and grab him by the throat, choke slamming him into the ground a second later.

The fight was more like the most vicious dance that Ace had ever seen. For a glimpsing moment, the dog would move with grace that would have made professional dancers weep. Then, the moment that her opponents attack had been avoided, all that elegance would transform into unabashed savagery. Even as the satyr contemplated this, she flowed around a stallion’s buck and lifted him up smoothly off the ground with one arm, spinning on the balls of her feet to slam the unfortunate pony into one of his comrades, the two colliding with a sickening crack.

Before the fight could even have said to have truly started, it was over. In one of the shortest displays of brutality that Ace had ever seen, the Diamond Dog woman had taken out, and in some cases permanently disabled, ten capable ponies. She didn’t even look like she had broken a sweat doing so as well. The entire bar stared at her in a state between shock and terror as she casually looted the ponies she had defeated of their bit pouches and slunk over to the bar, grabbing a stool and openly counting her new wealth.

Ace turned back to Gale, who was still gaping at the display. “I’m gonna go talk to her.”

Before she had time to gather her wits and protest, the satyr was off. Eyes from around the room followed him as he approached the Diamond Dog. Silent salutes were given to the brave soul who would freely approach such a devastating machine of destruction.

“Hey, that was some pretty impressive fighting,” Ace began, “Nice work.”

The Diamond Dog slowly turned, her steely eyes sparking as looked at him. For a moment, she was silent, her impassive face betraying nothing. Then, before even Ace could react, she had spun round, gold bits flying everywhere as she grasped the satyr by the neck and lifted him bodily off the floor.

“You,” She growled, “I know you.”

Author's Note

Did you guys know that I also have a Wordpress blog now? You can find the link here:
http://ciphermage.wordpress.com/
It's a collection of flash fictions and short stories written by yours truly. Updates every Monday and Friday. Hope you check it out and enjoy.

Thicker than Water

His hooves flailed wildly, desperately trying to find the absent ground, as he grasped at the arm that was lifting him up. Her grip was like iron, his clawing was not even acknowledged. Though she lacked the bulging muscles of the minotaurs that he had met, she was strong without a doubt. Beneath the thick fur he could feel honed muscles and sinews like steel cables, all dedicated towards the task of slowly crushing his throat.

“Wait,” He choked out, “Why?”

Her eyebrows lifted at this and a frown stretched her face. Ace found himself being lowered to the floor as her grip slackened slightly, allowing him to draw in air. Her paw remained around his neck, a constant reminder that she could snap it like a twig if she so wished.

“Name?”

“Hm? Oh! Ace.” He glanced down at the arm still holding him, “I’d say a pleasure to meet you but…you know.”

To his surprise she smiled, “Funny. Shame I have to kill you.”

He coughed, “Yeah, about that. Why exactly do you want to kill me?”

Her frown returned, quickly becoming her most used expression around him. “You do not know me?” He shook his head in response, “Ah, this must be confusing then. You deserve an explanation before I rip your throat out.” Suddenly, she whirled around, slamming Ace into the bar counter as her free paw shot out, claws extended, stopping inches from the eyes of Gale, who had been attempting to sneak up on the dog, “Not so fast, little pony.”

With a flick of the wrist she dumped Ace into the chair next to her, the satyr rubbing at his throat once it was free of her grasp, before indicating Gale to join them on the bar stools. Hesitantly, the pegasus obeyed, taking the seat next to Ace and as far away from the dog as she could get.

“First off, names. You are Ace and this little pteechka is?”

“Gale.”

“Nice to meet you Gale. I am Melissa.” She stared at Ace, eyes boring into the satyr, “Melissa Sharptooth.”

“Erm…” Ace looked down, awkwardly trying to avoid the dog’s eyes.

She froze and pulled back, frowning again, “You honestly don’t know me?”

“Well not as such…”

“You killed my brother? Redcliff Sharptooth? Ring any bells now?”

“Redcliff, Redcliff…” His eyes shot wide, “Oh! You don’t mean Redtooth?”

She snorted, “Is that what the little cyka ended up calling himself? Always did have a big ego for a little pup. Thought he had to have the biggest, meanest name around. And look where it got him, killed by a scrawny minotaur.”

“Hey, I take off-“

“And now, I have to kill you.” She shook her head, dreadlocks swaying back and forth as she did so, “Nothing personal you understand. I mean, I hated the runt and always suspected he would end up in an early grave. But, pains me to say it, he was still family.”

With three raised claws, she beckoned the bartender over and drinks for each of them were quickly placed down, the pub pony evidently as terrified of the dog as Ace was.
“Here. Drink.” She slid two of the glasses over, gently grabbing hers in a paw and drinking it down in one gulp. “Ah, that’s good stuff.”

Following her example, Ace threw his drink back with ease. A lifetime of arranging deals, heists and various criminal enterprises in pubs had left him with a liver of steel and a tolerance limit that constantly surprised those who would challenge him to drinking contests. Drinking men three times your size under the table was always a good way to earn some easy money. Gale, on the other hand, had no experience with strong spirits, having restricted herself to beers and the occasional cocktail. Thus, when she took a swig, it left her spitting and coughing all over the bar.

“How would you like to die?” Melissa asked, completely ruining the good mood that he had gained from his drink.

Ace cocked his head, pretending to think about it for a moment, “Of old age, in my bed with a belly full of wine I believe is the traditional answer but I don’t think I’d make a very good old man. I’d probably be one of those embarrassing oldies desperately trying to hold onto their youth.”

“Don’t think you need to worry about old age.” Melissa said with a chuckle, some morbid sense of humour prompting Ace to join her, “Seriously though. I could snap your neck if you want to go that way. It’s quick, clean and, with some professional help, you can still make a pretty corpse.”

“I always did want to leave a pretty corpse. Something women would weep over.” He thought for a moment, “How about ripping out my heart and eating it? I saw that in a movie once and it looked like a pretty awesome way to go.”

Melissa spat onto the floor, “Too messy, and a good heart needs some spices and time on a grill. Raw heart is just gross.”

They both laughed, Gale staring at the two like they were insane.

“You’re not going to kill me though.” The satyr said, getting a raised eyebrow in return, “If you were you would have done it and moved on, not bought me a drink and explained yourself. Forgive me but you don’t seem like the type to go through so much trouble for a dead man.”

“Perhaps I’m just polite?”

“Nah, I saw you fight earlier. Brutal, beautiful and more than a little pants-shitting terrifying. But above all, efficient. No wasted movements. This,” He waved a hand at their empty glasses, “Screams wasted movement to me. I’m guessing you want to know what really happened down in that mine.”

Melissa was silent for a moment, staring at the dregs of her drink that had managed to escape. Eventually though she nodded and growled, “The dogs from that mine that I’ve found were annoyingly vague. They mentioned you in great detail and two others, a minotaur and a unicorn. But they failed to mention why you were there or why you only killed Redcliff.”

“So they failed to tell you about the slavery?”

Her glass shattered in her paw, “The what?”

“Slavery. They were taking ponies, and other folk, and forcing them to work in the mines and fight for their amusement.”

The wood of the bar began to splinter as Melissa squeezed it, her dark eyes staring into the distance, “Those bastards. Mama was very clear. No slavery. We do our own work and we do it well. Taking slaves attracts unwanted attention and never works out. Look at ponies,” She glanced over to Gale who promptly froze from playing with her drink like a rabbit in headlights, “No muscles, no spirit, and no claws. Hooves can’t hold a tool or rip out rocks. Terrible workers.”

“Hey, I take off-“

“Not to mention the whining. All the time it is ‘wah wah wah’ with ponies.” She shook her head sadly, “Living in pony lands has taught me that Mama was right. Ponies are weak and soft, not at all suited for mine work.”

Before Gale could protest one more, Ace interrupted, “Excuse me but ‘Mama’?”

“Clan matriarch,” She said with a wave of her paw, “Also, actual mother.”

“Oh, that must make you a fairly important person right?”

“No so much,” She grumbled, “Having twenty siblings puts me fairly low on the totem pole. Although, at least I wasn’t as low as Redcliff. Speaking of which, you still haven’t explained why, out of all the dogs in the mine, you only killed the runt that ran away from his own clan to join some slavers.”

“As I understand it, well, they weren’t exactly slavers until your brother took charge.”

She stared at him incredulously for a few moments, “Okay, now I know you’re lying to me.”

“For once I’m actually telling the truth.”

“How in Tartarus could the clan runt take over an entire mine? I’ve been hunting down the dogs that survived. They’re not exactly pushovers.”

Ace frowned and looked down at his glass, “This part is actually far harder to explain and probably best done in private. Do you have somewhere quiet we could go?”
She mulled it over for a moment before getting up from her stool and reaching over the bar and grabbing a bottle. “I’m taking this upstairs.” She told the terrified bartender before indicating that Ace and Gale should follow her with a jerk of her head. “This way. I’ve got a room here.”

She led the two to a door hidden away in one corner of the room and up some stairs. Melissa’s room was not much different from the main bar area, except for being much smaller and less populated. A pile of empty bottles had accumulated in one corner, the leftover beer inside slowly turning into a developing yeast micro-society. The bed, despite being made of clouds, somehow managed to look hard and unwelcoming.

“So then, what’s this big secret?” The dog asked, throwing herself onto the bed and biting the top off her bottle, idly crunching the glass between her teeth.

Ace ignored her for the moment, instead walking over to the window and glancing outside, making sure no nosy pegasi were flying nearby. He then drew the pieces of torn cloth that served as curtains closed, turning back to face the two females. Reaching into his jacket, he retrieved one of the most expensive pieces of equipment he had on him. A small pouch, seemingly made of plain purple cloth that was nothing exceptional to look at. If there had been any magical detectors in the room though, they would have been going haywire. It had cost him a lot of bits to get this made, the unicorn enchanter demanding almost his entire take from the last warehouse he hit. But it was definitely worth it. Enough enchantments had been worked into the stitching to give Celestia herself reason to raise an eyebrow. Locking enchantments, alarm enchantments, notice-me-not enchantments. The whole works had gone into this thing. Raising it to his mouth, the satyr mumbled some words under his breath, making absolutely sure the others didn’t hear them. After the codes had been said, all it took was a slight pull of the string to open it, revealing its insidious contents.

Drawing it out, Ace held the small vial up to the light, “This,” He announced, “Is the Black Brew.”

Gale and Melissa stared at it in curiosity. The liquid seemed to absorb the light around it as it sloshed about in its container. It took the two a second to realise that Ace wasn’t actually moving the vial at all. The liquid inside was moving of its own free will, thrashing about at the reinforced glass in a desperate attempt to escape.

“As you can see, it’s a lively little bugger.” The satyr continued, “It’s also one of the most dangerous and powerful substances I’ve ever come across. Which is really saying something. It’s not just addictive, it’s downright controlling. Manipulative.” He lowered it, giving the black substance a glare, “Alive.”

“Question.” Melissa said, raising a paw, “What does it do?”

“Excellent inquiry class.” Ace replied, beginning to pace in front of them like a lecturer at a university, “When consumed by the victim, it enhances their natural abilities beyond the realms of possibility. Drink enough of the stuff and you could probably go toe to toe with an alicorn and stand a decent chance of not being incinerated in two seconds. Strong stuff indeed.”

“You’re saying this is what this Redcliff guy used?” Gale finally spoke up, tearing her eyes away from the vial.

“Yup. By the time I met him he was huge, as big as a minotaur and not very friendly at all.” Seeing the look in Melissa’s eyes he swiftly continued. “Of course it comes with some pretty lethal downsides. In Redcliff’s case, it blew his head off, took over his re-animated body and proceeded to use him as a betentacled puppet.” He saw all thought of taking the Brew disappear from Melissa’s eyes when she heard her brother’s fate. “Other symptoms can include madness, loss of bladder control, spontaneous combustion, blindness, demonic possession and, of course, more madness.”

Ace wasn’t even entirely sure why he had kept the sample of the Brew around with him. A reminder of what he was fighting perhaps? He certainly didn’t intend to study the stuff. He was no scientist. There was only one pony in Equestria that he trusted to have both the brains and the moral fortitude to study the Brew, and he wasn’t about to get Twilight Sparkle mixed up in this insanity.

“So this is what killed my brother?”

Ace nodded gravely.

“And you are fighting this?”

He nodded again, “This, and those who would use it for their own gain.”

She stood up to her full height, towering almost a full head taller than the satyr. Her face was impassive, her stance ramrod straight. The eyes that stared down at Ace were hard, giving away nothing. Eventually she stuck a paw out at him, the thief barely managing to restrain his urge to flinch back.

“Then I'm coming with you.”

Author's Note

Recruitment complete: Fighter!

Wordpress blog: http://ciphermage.wordpress.com/

Drink and be Merry

The distant sounds of fighting, shouting and general civil disobedience bore into Gale’s brain like a drill, denying her sleep as she lay in the less than comfortable cloud bed. Ace had managed to get the two of them rooms at Elysium alongside Melissa and Gale was beginning to understand why it had been such a simple task. The rooms were tiny for one thing, barely fitting the bed that she almost hung out of. She was pretty sure some enterprising cloud-bugs had leapt from the bed to infest her fur by now, making her long for the day that she could get a proper shower and decontaminate.

If she was being honest with herself though, it was not the room, or the locals or even the bed that was keeping her awake. What Ace had shown them earlier had shaken her. When she had joined up with the satyr back in Trottingham she had thought him a bit odd, though clearly experienced. When he had gone on about fighting evil she had nodded and smiled. Perhaps he just had a very active imagination? They would turn over a few scores, maybe hit a bank or something, and then the senior thief would declare that evil had been defeated.

But what was in that vial. The Black Brew. That was evil personified. Malice given form and liquefied. And now Ace wanted them to fight ponies who would willingly work alongside this stuff. Ponies who would drink the foul substance and use its power? Gale wasn’t sure that she could.

Climbing out of bed, she made her way downstairs as quietly as her hoofs could manage, the cloud floor making her hoof-falls nearly silent. She might not be able to handle whiskey as well as Ace and Melissa had, but she could still use a drink right about now.

As she came to the bottom of the stairs and turned into the bar, she noticed another figure sitting there, slumped over the counter and staring into her drink as though it contained all the answers in the universe. Melissa looked distinctly less impressive now compared to earlier in the evening. Her braided hair had been undone, leaving the diamond dog’s mane to run wild, whilst the candle beside her illuminated the hollow look in her eyes.

“Melissa?” Gale spoke up cautiously.

The brawler spun around, claws flying out and eyes wild. Upon spotting Gale, she relaxed, her shoulders seeming to slump even more. “Ah, pteechka, my apologies.”
Gale stepped forward, trying not to look terrified. “What are you doing down here? Can’t sleep?”

“No.” She grunted stubbornly, seeing the look in Gale’s eyes, “What? Is a dog not allowed to have a drink every so often?”

The pegasus refrained from commenting that maybe she had drank enough. Instead, she simply hopped onto the chair next to the dog and poured herself a glass from the bottle that Melissa had ‘appropriated.’

“I can’t sleep.” Gale confessed, getting an odd look from her companion, “I keep thinking about that Brew. How it seemed to move and shine in the vial. I keep seeing it moving towards me, trying to reach me.”

Together, the two drained their glasses, not speaking again until both drinks were gone. Silently, Melissa refilled both of their glasses and then waited.

“I’m scared Melissa. Scared that I might have gotten in over my head with this.” She shook her head, “I can’t tell Ace. He wouldn’t understand.”

The dog nodded and took a drink before replying, “Why did you join up with him?”

“It’ll sound silly to you.” Gale said, hanging her head. Compared to Melissa’s quest to avenge family, her own ambitions seemed petty.

“Perhaps, but tell me anyway.”

Gale sighed, “I want to be the greatest thief Equestria has ever seen. I think Ace can help me achieve that.”

To her surprise, instead of laughing of mocking her as so many before had, Melissa simply nodded. “Pteechka has good dream. You want to be the best and would do anything to get there?”

“Yeah. When I’m gone, I want to be remembered.” She grinned, encouraged by the dog’s acceptance. “None of that fading away into dust. I want children to dream of being as good as me one day, I want nobles to hire entire armies to guard their treasures in fear of my visits. I want to steal from the Princesses themselves!”

“Ah ah, calm yourself pteechka. You really can’t handle your drink can you? We’ll have to work on that.” Melissa matched Gale’s grin with a toothy one of her own, “Still that is strong dream. But Mama always said ‘Pup, if you want to be as strong as Mama then you have to carry scars like Mama. Greatness does not come without risks.’” Melissa stared off into the distance, “She would always tell me of her old battles to become Matriarch and how she would fight other Clan Alphas for control and always emerged the victor.”

Gale looked up at her taller companion, “She sounds like a great mother.”

“She is.” The brawler drained her glass before looking over at Gale, “How about you?”

“My parents? They were alright I guess. They never abused me or anything.” She frowned, “They worked in weather control as middle management. Entirely unexceptionable. I was expected to follow in their footsteps, hence my name.” She took a gulp of her drink, “When I got my cutie mark, they were so disappointed in me. Thought they had raised me wrong or something.”

“How did it happen?” Melissa asked, waving one claw at Gale’s mark.

“Oh, well,” She paused, “It’s a bit awkward. I was just so tired of playing by my parent’s rules, of being a ‘good citizen.’ So I acted out. There was this small jewellery store in town that was a bit too lax with their security. I walked in, picked up a necklace with my wings and hid it beneath the feathers. They didn’t even notice and, when I got home with my prize, my cutie mark appeared.”

“What happened then?”

“My parents saw the mark. Like I said, they were disappointed in me but they weren’t going to throw me out of the house, they were too good for that. Instead I left. I just couldn’t handle their pitying looks anymore. So, one day I packed up my stuff, left them a note and walked out the door.” She took a deep breath and stared at the diamond dog, “Wow, I’ve never told anyone this before. You’re a good listener Melissa.”

She nodded, “It sounded like you needed to be heard. So the question is, what are you going to do now?”

Gale took another drink before continuing, “I’m not sure. After I left my parent’s house I made a vow that, if I was destined to be a thief then I was going to be the best thief in the world. But now, seeing the dangers that following that dream will bring…I don’t know.”

“Sounds like something you need to sleep on.” Melissa reached over and grabbed the pony’s drink before the pegasus could drain it, “And I think you’ve had enough. Go on, go to bed.”

“But!” Gale started protesting, only to get flicked on the nose by the dog. She flinched back, shaking her head in confusion. “Hey!”

“No buts! Go.” She pointed over Gale’s head to the stairs. Grumbling, the pony obeyed, swaying slightly once she was bereft of the stability of her chair. Once she got to the door leading upstairs, she paused and looked back.

“Melissa…Mel, thanks for listening.” She pointed a hoof, rocking dangerously back and forth on her remaining three legs, “You. Are a good person. Good friend.”
Melissa smiled, “Thank you Gale. Now go to bed.”

“Right, right. Bed.” The pegasus stumbled her way upstairs, leaving the diamond dog alone in the bar.

Upon hearing Gale’s door upstairs slam shut and the pegasus collapse into bed thanks to her superior hearing, Melissa chuckled. “Thank you Mama, you taught me well.”

Author's Note

A shorter (and a bit later) chapter this time as I am a bit swamped with assignments at the moment.

Wordpress: http://ciphermage.wordpress.com/

Smuggler Hunting 101

When Ace came downstairs the next morning, he was greeted by the unusual sight of Gale and Melissa chatting amicably over two bowls of what could generously be called porridge. Considering the surly attitude of the diamond dog the previous night, Ace thought she would never warm up to the group and yet the two females were getting along as though they had known each other for years.

Shrugging, he approached the bar, “Good morning, may I ask what fine food you serve here?”

“Porridge.” The stallion spat out before going back to the seemingly endless task of cleaning a glass.

“You wouldn’t happen to have anything else would you?”

The surly bartender fixed him with a cold glare, “Porridge.” He said again, as though the word was the only thing that mattered. He then seemed to think otherwise, “Could spit in it if you like? For flavour.”

Ace stared at the bartender, honestly trying to gauge just how serious the pony was. An awkward silence stretched out between the two as the satyr waited for the bartender to crack a grin at his own joke, a grin that seemed to never be coming.

“Just porridge will be fine thanks.” Ace said eventually, giving up on the stoic stallion.

After receiving and paying for his food, he swept it up and carried it over to Gale and Melissa’s table, plonking himself down opposite the two.

“Morning ladies, how are we today?”

The two shared a look, incidentally causing Ace’s instincts to tell him that he should flip the table in their faces and run. He fought these instincts though, and decided that there was only a small chance that the two had decided to kill him. It was purely coincidental that most female criminals he met ended up wanting him dead after all.

“Curious, mostly.” Melissa started, snapping Ace out of his memories.

“Oh, what about?”

This time, Gale spoke up, “What exactly are we going to do next? I mean, you do have a plan don’t you?”

Ace almost choked on his porridge, though that might just have been because there was something unidentifiable floating in it, “A plan? Of course I have a plan. What sort of person decides to go against a massive international smuggling ring without some sort of plan?” He slurped down some more watery porridge, desperately buying for time, “But! I think there’s a better question here. Melissa, what are you doing in Cloudsdale?”

The brawler looked up in surprise, “Me?”

“Yes,” Ace replied, seizing this line of thought, “It’s unusual to see a diamond dog in a sky city isn’t it?”

“Well there isn’t a lot of us up here,” She grunted, “But it’s not like I’m the only one. There’s another dog up here I was tracking down, one of the escapees from Redcliff’s mine. I wanted to ask him what exactly happened there but now I know I guess there’s no point.” She sniffed, “Good thing too, he’s not an easy dog to find.”

“Oh? Having trouble tracking him?”

The glare she sent him once again set off Ace’s table-flipping instincts, though this time possibly with good reason, “On the ground there would be no problem. Up here though scents don’t stay around long. How ponies manage to live their entire lives up here I’ll never understand.” She shook her head, muttering something that sounded like ‘don’t ever look down.’ “Anyway, a source told me after some convincing that he had fallen in with ‘untrustworthy folk.’”

“Sounds fun,” Gale remarked between slurps of porridge. It was fascinating to see how the pegasus could eat something so disgusting without any qualms. Her stomach must be made of iron, Ace mused.

“I was going to hunt him down today, but it looks like that is off the menu now.” Melissa poked at her own porridge with a wooden spoon, looking slightly disgusted by Gale’s enthusiasm.

“Not necessarily.” Ace announced, getting the two’s full attention, “Sounds like he might already be connected to Cloudsdale’s underworld.” He paused for a second, “Wait, can a flying city have an underworld? Overworld?” He waved a hand and shook his head, “Nevermind, I’ll ponder that later. In the meantime, let’s ditch this weird breakfast and find ourselves an informant.”

“That’s more like it.” Melissa replied with a grin, standing up and pushing her porridge away at the same time as Ace.

“Just a second guys,” Gale said, scooping both bowls towards her with her wings and proceeding to guzzle them down, much to her comrade’s horror, “What? It would be criminal to waste food like that.”

The satyr let his face drop into his hand, “Gale, we are criminals. You know that right?”

She wiped her face and looked up at him, “Duh, but still, waste not want not and all that. Besides, that was some pretty decent porridge.”

Unseen by the pegasus, Melissa and Ace shared a look of mutual pity for their fellow.

Much to Ace’s disappointment, finding the dog in question had actually been pathetically easy. Perhaps it was the last few months he had spent tracking down and combatting an actually competent criminal agency, or perhaps it was simply the fact that Equestria just didn’t do crime as well as Earth did. Whatever the reason, it was barely an hour later that the three were standing outside the small apartment that the landlord assured them was owned by their target.

“So, what’s our plan of action?” Gale asked, standing back and letting her two more veteran comrades take the lead.

Ace knelt down to examine the lock, reaching into his belt to retrieve some tools, “Well this is a pretty cheap lock, it shouldn’t take-“

He was cut off by a speeding paw flying past his face and hitting the door, breaking the lock in an explosion of splinters and leaving it hanging by a single hinge. Shrugging, Melissa walked past the stunned thief and through the destruction she had caused.

“So,” Gale’s voice perked up from behind him, “In the Thieving 101 Syllabus, exactly where does that particular lesson come in?”

“Employee communication.” Ace muttered, picking a few stray splinters out of his hair as he followed Melissa into the apartment.

The apartment interior was a mess, although this time it wasn’t entirely Melissa’s fault. Various pieces of litter, including a few discarded animal bones, littered the floor around a cloud mattress that was a worrying shade of yellow. Dominating the floor space though was a standoff between Melissa and another diamond dog, this one slightly shorter and far lankier than his female counterpart. Both dogs had their claws out, challenging growls emanating from their throats. Upon noticing Ace and Gale’s entrance, the male dog saw the tides turning against him and chose to make a brake for it. One leg swept up, kicking some of the rubbish from the floor up into Melissa’s face. The brawler instinctively covered her face, allowing the other dog to bolt past her and charge directly at the two thieves.

As the snarling dog bore down upon him, Ace made the snap decision to face down his aggressor. The hound was far from the most dangerous thing he had fought in the last few months and, if he allowed him to escape, then they would lose their best chance at finding the smugglers in Cloudsdale.

Stepping into the dog’s pounce, the satyr span himself around so that his back was to the dog, one of his lean arms coming around under the furred arm and onto the dog’s back. With his other hand, he grasped tightly at the fur of the dog’s shoulder. From then it was simply a matter of ensuring that he was firmly positioned so as to not allow the momentum of the pounce to knock him off his hooves. When the full weight on the hound bore down on him, Ace simply turned it on his hip, allowing his arms to direct the dog past him, head over paws.

And directly into a vicious buck from Gale.

A shrieking whine came from the dog as all of his momentum was suddenly and violently arrested. Such was the force of Gale’s kick that he actually went flying the opposite way, now coming directly towards Ace. The veteran thief smoothly stepped out of the way of the howling ball of fur, allowing it to sail past him and directly into Melissa’s waiting paw. With a heave, she lifted him above her head before bringing him slamming down into the floor. Under normal circumstances, this would have been impressive and potentially quite dangerous. However, in Cloudsdale all that happened was a soft pomf. This thankfully did not retract from the intimidation factor of Melissa leaning in with a grin on her face, proudly displaying all of her wicked teeth.

“Good morning.” She said to the whimpering male.

“So,” Gale asked, recovering her hooves after her kick, “How about that?”

“Team building.” Ace replied, before pausing, “With a hint of public relations.”

“I’m learning so much already!” The pegasus grinned before bouncing forward alongside Ace.

The dog craned his neck round to watch them as they approached, an impressive accomplishment indeed considering the giant paw of Melissa’s that was gripping his throat. As he looked at Ace, his eyes widened, finally noticing the satyr and remembering who he was.

“Now I distinctly recall,” Ace said as he neared the dog, “That when we last saw each other, you promised to be a noble and upstanding citizen. And yet, my friend here tells me that you have fallen in with some rather worryingly criminal folk. Care to explain.”

The dog gurgled at him slightly.

“Melissa,” Ace rubbed his brow, “Please let up slightly. The whole interrogation thing doesn’t work too well if you choke him to death.” Grunting some unintelligible, she obliged, allowing the dog under her paw to let out a gasp of relief. “That’s better, thank you. How about we start this right? What’s your name my friend?”

“Dominic.” He croaked out.

“A pleasure to meet you Dominic.” Ace smiled, “You clearly remember me, though I’m not certain if you got my name when last we met. I’m Ace. My friends and I have a few questions for you, which I would advise you to answer honestly because if you don’t then Melissa here,” The named dog grinned and waved, “Might get a bit upset." He leaned in and whispered into Dominic’s ear. “You ever seen an upset diamond dog female? I’m not sure how badly clouds stain but I think the next five generations of cleaners that have to deal with this room would be picking pieces of you out of the floor.”

“Please, just tell me what you want!” Dominic howled in desperation.

“Right, the question. Of course. I probably should have opened with that now that I think about it.” Ace tried to ignore the fact that Gale had produced a notepad and quill from somewhere and appeared to be taking notes, “We want to know about any large smuggling operations that are going on in the city. The one we’re interested in will be particularly suspicious. They won’t brag about the cargo they’re moving or they’ll be deliberately vague when it comes to the product itself. Know anything like that.”

“No! I don’t know anything!”

There was a sickening snap, followed by a scream of pain, as Melissa broke the captive dog’s arm with barely any movement from her massive paws. As Ace and Gale looked at her in shock, she calmly moved around to the other side of the squirming dog, grabbed his remaining arm and put it in a similar hold, her left paw resting gently against Dominic’s elbow.

“Jesus Christ! Melissa! We don’t just start breaking arms if they don’t answer the question!”

“Why not?” She seemed honestly confused.

“Because it’s bloody barbaric for one thing. Also, they pretty quickly run out of limbs to break after a few wrong answers.”

The brawler mulled this over for a second before nodding. “Good point. I’ll start with the fingers instead.” She casually manoeuvred the arm she was holding until Dominic’s paw was engulfed by her own.

Ace shook his head, running a hand through what he felt was increasingly greying hair, “Apologies for that,” He said to Dominic, “I thought I was being hyperbolic with that threat earlier, but evidently not. So, large suspicious smuggling operations in the city. Happen to know any?”

“Yes! Okay, yes! Just please, get her away from me!” He shouted, staring up in terror at Melissa and, more importantly, his paw that Melissa held.

“Wonderful,” Ace clapped his hands together, “Mel, be a dear and stop violently threatening the poor lad would you?”

Looking a bit put out at Ace’s informal name for her, she nevertheless took a single step away from their captive, releasing the arm. Dominic immediately used his new found freedom to clutch his broken arm close to his chest, whimpering slightly as he moved it into a more comfortable position.

“They’re in the weather factory.” He said before Ace could prompt him once again. “They’ve got some ponies who let them in at night and they smuggle it out using the weather factory’s shipping routes.”

“Wow,” Gale spoke up from behind Ace for the first time since the interrogation started, “That’s actually kind of genius.”

“What do you mean? You know how they are doing this?”

“Well think about it. That thing that you showed us, it’s still a liquid right? Which means, presumably, it can be put inside a cloud. The storm clouds ship out and, when they reach their destination, their contact on the other end just has to jump up and down on it a few times and retrieve all of the product. Elegant in a way.” She saw the horrified look Ace was giving her, “I mean, a totally horrible and not at all good kind of elegance?”

“No, it’s not that.” Ace whispered, “What if there is no contact on the other end? What if these poisonous clouds are being sent out to unsuspecting towns across Equestria? Ponies everywhere could be getting innocently caught in a downpour and finding themselves poisoned by something more horrible than they could possibly imagine.”

Now Gale also looked horrified, probably imagining just how many times she had been caught underneath a seemingly innocuous rain cloud before. Melissa, on the other hand, seemed unconcerned.

“So we know where they are yes? Then we simply need to go and stop them.” The dog’s one track mind was just what they needed in this situation, snapping Ace and Gale out of their musings.

“Right, let’s go.”

Ace turned to walk out, but was stopped by a paw on his shoulder. Melissa pointed over to the kneeling form of Dominic in the centre of the room. “And what about him?”

“Of course, just a second.” He approached the still whimpering dog, “Hey Dominic, we’re going now. But you should probably forget we were ever here. Melissa and I would take it as a huge favour if you did.” Ace didn’t miss the way the male dog flinched at her name before nodding rapidly, “That’s great. I recommend you get that arm checked out and then leave Cloudsdale immediately. I bet the old homestead is looking pretty attractive to you right now?” Once again, he received frantic nodding as his response, “Great, you have fun with that now. Stay safe.”

Leaving the dog behind, he approached Melissa and Gale, who were waiting for him by the door, and shrugged. “We came to a mutual understanding.” Walking out of the apartment with his two comrades flanking him, he grinned, “Let’s go be good guys.”

Author's Note

Well it has been a while hasn't it? Almost a month since my last update and some of you guys must have been losing faith with me. I apologize for that. I took on way too many writing projects at once, ending up with me writing about 7000 words a week and quickly burning myself out. I may have overestimated my abilities slightly.

However, I do have some good news to go along with this chapter. The awesome CrassBrass (also known as Shotershin on youtube) has done a reading of the first chapter of Wild Card. I'm very grateful and honoured. If you wish to check it out then you may find it HERE.

Hope you all enjoyed the chapter,
Barrel