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"Champagne sir?" The waiter asked as he passed the solid white stallion.

The stallion finished brushing specks of fluff off of his finely pressed suit, before taking a glass from the silver tray. "Thank you," he said with a polite nod before the waiter went off to serve other guests.

His eyes flicked between each of the guests, two thick strands of his brown mane dangled loosely above his left brow, the rest of his mane was brushed and neatly styled to keep his august figure in check. His wings nestled comfortably by his sides through the black suit he had donned.

Amongst the crowd of formally dressed ponies, scattered about a floor of shining gold marble hidden beneath a chandelier of fire blazoned glass, the ballroom had been spruced up with noticeable decorations. Small trails of vines were draped around the Corinthian pillars that surrounded the circular room.

The chandelier was freshly cleaned and the light was at the right intensity to show off the immaculate mosaic that lay upon the ceiling of a deep night's sky. All were dressed properly as they waltzed slowly to the slow bounce of an orchestra that sat by one of the far walls.

It was a very open room, out on the opposite end, past the dancing stallions and mares was a verandah that overlooked a blackened lake, two moons reflecting off of its cool waters with a few glowing streaks as nearby ships flew by the skyscape.

"Having fun Duke?" His comm fluttered to life with the sound of a female's voice, reeking of biscuits and tea.

With a smirk Duke sipped at his champagne flute. "I'm working, there's no time for fun," he murmured quietly.

"Oh yeah?" The voice chimed back. Duke could practically hear her cheeky grin. "Well I can see you and I had no idea that Champagne was mission imperative," she teased.

"When the mission is at hoof, nothing is off limits," he justified confidently. "Those crosshairs better not be on my head Presidio," he warned as he began to weave through the crowd of dancing and talking ponies, each dressed to the highest caliber... It was a nobles party after all, with guards that had their sidearms locked in a holster on their forehoof.

"How else would I be able to watch you?" She asked with a rhetorical snicker. "I'd never even risk it," she chirped back teasingly. "But in all seriousness keep focused... Their song is almost finished."

He gave a short nod as a few bystanders trotted by. "I better go get ready then."

With a gentle cough he excused himself from the surrounding guests and began to weave his way through the crowds, placing his half finished glass on the tray of a passing waiter.

Making his way past the Corinthian pillars, he left the rotunda ballroom, turning to a darkened stairwell and trotting down.

"I have no eyes on you, you're on your own," Presidio chimed in quietly, "don't die."

"Understood."

Duke came to the bottom of the curling stairwell and to the carpeted hallways beneath the ballroom, the clapping of the patrons upstairs echoed through with a hollow twang. "Which room is he in?"

"Second door on the left if the plan is still correct."

"Thank you," he said as he clung to the shadows, peering around the corner to the illuminated hallway.

He needn't count the doors down, two guards stood in front of the door, their purple coloured uniforms pressed neatly, their forehoof holsters visible.

"These bat ponies can throw a party can't they?" Presidio commented, watching the party upstairs. "And the guards here are... Very staunch," she cooed.

"Hoof on the trigger, Sid, not anywhere else," he whispered silently in warning, his forehoof holster coming loose and letting a small sidearm slip from his suit sleeve, the holster stopping before hitting the ground, becoming a mounted weapon.

"My hoof is always on my trigger," Sid cooed suggestively once more.

"Sometimes I hate you," he sighed quietly.

"I'll remember that when my crosshairs are back on your head... You ready?" She asked with a serious tone.

"Yup... Here goes," he muttered before rolling past the corner and firing off two shots in quick succession.

The first struck the closest guard in the neck, a small metallic square clung to his skin and he locked up immediately. The second shot landed right under the eye of the other guard, turning his head to see what was happening.

Duke let his aim remain as he stared at the two paralysed guards still standing upright. Slowly approaching he gave off a small wolf whistle to double check... Both guards remained still.

"I'm so glad I bought these rounds," he said into his comms, patting the faces of the stern looking guards.

"I look forward to using them," Sid chuckled through his mic.

"I'm not sure which is more terrifying, a shock that can disrupt the brain's capability of movement or you dragging some poor paralysed bastard home," he sighed calmly whilst looking at the simple cream door with a bright gold star towards the top.

"Shush would you."

With a smirk he pushed open the door to the performance dressing room. Sitting in a velvet chair with a mahogany cello held within his magical grasp, was a stallion with a shocked expression as Duke came through, pointing the firearm at him. "Looks like I've plucked the last string," Duke quipped with a smart grin on his face before firing.

"Huh?" Was all the cellist could get out before his muscles locked up and the cello fell onto its needle and teetered before Duke caught it.

"That was so cringe worthy... I think I've made my mind up... I will shoot you when you come back up," Sid sighed.

"I dare you," Duke smirked as he peered at the neck of the cello. With a gentle push, the tuning key pushed into the wood and sprung back out slowly with a small green data chip within. "The chip is here."

"Raccoon wants the whole Cello, bring it up and I'll come get you."

"Got it," Duke said before pressing the chip back in and pushing the needle back into its hold, stowing it back into the blackened case.

With a quick glance around he lifted the case and left the room once more, closing it with a light click. With a relieved sigh he patted the paralysed guards thankfully before trotting back towards the stairs.

"Coming up," Duke informed Presidio.

"Uhh... You might want to hold back a minute," Sid spoke in mild confusion.

"What? Why?" Duke asked, stopping at the top of the stairwell with concern, the eyes of several audience members now upon him. "What's happening?"

"Shit… Our programme is out of date… They've changed it... The cellist... You... You're next?" she said, the sound of pages flipping gently in the mic made him gulp.

The urgent hoofsteps of somepony approaching snapped him from his concerned interest with Sid and his eyes looked up to a stallion wearing a formal suit, a conductor's baton in his breast pocket.

"Thank goodness," he began with a sigh.

"Uhh," Duke let out before quickly being silenced.

"C'mon... We're behind schedule," the conductor spoke, ushering Duke forward. "They're all waiting."

"Oh? All of them?" Duke asked, brushing his ear nervously.

"Yes! We don't hire cellists so they can sit in second chair."

Duke gulped and feigned a smile before following the conductor towards the orchestra. "Yes yes... Of course," he said with a certain tension in his voice as the murmurs of patient nobles began to fill his ears, the marble floor greeting him with a blinding glaze as he gazed out to the crowd.

The conductor rushed ahead and smiled politely at the audience, pretending everything was on schedule, glancing back at Duke, soon sending a glare whilst he waited.

Duke bit his lip and put down the black case and opened it up, pulling out the varnished mahogany cello.

"Mares and gentlecolts, please join me in welcoming our soloist for this evening, first cello of the Royal Orchestra of Equus... Please welcome, Ennio Morricone."

"Well fuck," Presidio chuckled in his ear.

With a smile Duke trotted on stage, cello by his side. "Sid... Help," he murmured quietly out the corner of his mouth.

"I dunno... It'll be interesting to see what happens," she laughed.

"Sid," he growled in a low tone, "I swear if you don't help me, I'll shove this cello right up your-"

"Yeah yeah, bite me..." She sighed. "Buy me some time, I'll figure something out."

Trotting out in front of the audience, his applause grew louder as he took a seat flanking the orchestra, placing the cello down with the needle outstretched. The sweat had already began to bead on his brow as the blazing lights sweltered down on him.

With a gulp he looked to the orchestra by his side, watching him as the applause came to a halt. "Does anypony have spare rosin?" he asked with a cheeky smirk, a line of sweat lying upon his brow.

A few chuckles grew from the orchestra and a small pot of the amber residue floated over. He smiled in thanks gripping the bow as he began to apply the solid across the hair bow. "Rosin is... Quite useful in my profession," he began with a gulp.

"You are so fucked," Sid spoke with a cringe that Duke could practically feel.

"Thanks," he thought, maintaining his smile, "The rosin protects the hair on the bow and is actually quite good at it," he spoke, pointing his bow at a mare in the audience, "You should use it on your mane some time," he smiled, the orchestra chuckling along with him.

He put the rosin down and placed the bow slowly on the first string with a gulp. "If you have a plan, do it now..." He whispered painfully through his comm. With a modest nod he glided the bow across the A string, the bow jumped and fumbled a bit before a solid sound was produced glancing back to the Orchestra.

As expected they all raised their instruments and began tuning again, the conductor flicking through his thick scores once more.

"8... 7... 6..," he heard Sid count, his eyes gliding to the guards that stood scattered around the edges of the room, not a muscle moved, "5... Guards in your immediate area down. Changing mag," she said procedurally as the audience looked at Duke in quiet anticipation.

"Block your ears and run for the verandah, pickup on the way," she spoke once more before the soft click and a light whir filled the comms.

"You bitch," he muttered as his hooves covered his ears tightly, the crowd staring in confusion before they began to drop and writhe in obvious pain, a few covering their own ears and others simply dropping down unconscious. Everypony looked around in confusion, spreading out and scattering as whatever Presidio did took hold.

"Round on target, clear," Duke let his hooves drop and he got up and charged past the many mares and stallions that lay in pain on the ground, a gentle ring lingered in the air. "Oh how I love these concussive rounds," she sighed happily.

"Half of them are deaf now aren't they?" he asked, skidding to a halt by the verandah overlooking the ocean.

"Only for a few hours," she stated, the sound of her clambering back to her hooves was a mere testament to her boredom.

"Where is my lift?" he asked impatiently, looking back at the few guests that had clambered back to their hooves, shaking their heads with disorientation.

"Patience," Sid tutted.

Pacing back nervously he soon sighed with relief as a small blue luxury shuttle with white racing stripes descended from the night sky and blared it's rotating engines downwards to hover just by the verandah edge. The door split horizontally and folded outwards into a vertical position, the cushioned interior was a welcome sight for the suited stallion.

"Nice car."

"That's what I said to the guy driving it," Sid laughed over the comms, "get in."

"My mother always told me not to get into a car with a stranger," he sighed as he jumped in, the door sliding shut and a heavy jolt of the engines flaring sent him falling into one of the cushioned seats. He sat up from his hunched sitting position and glanced forward to the driver's seat, finding it empty.

"If you didn't get into a car with a stranger, how would you have met me?"

"That's true," he smirked, "but I recall you were in the car... Not flying it be remote access."

"You sound disappointed," she said with an obvious frown over the comms, "do you miss me?"

"I miss parts of you," he stated vaguely with a smirk.

"Asshole."

It wasn't too long before the nauseating flashes of red and blue soaked the outer walls of the marble made manor, the many nobles came stumbling out, dazed and confused as they were led on by those dressed in white paramedic uniforms. The fluted colonnades cast shadows of ethereal night as the lights faded on and off.

The nearby lights attracted moths and other bothersome insects that circled their target constantly, cicadas sang in the distance whilst the simple chirps of grasshoppers resonated by the lake over the bank. All along the outside of the manor was a collection of blue and purple flowers, sitting enclosed by a green hedge, carved to perfection.

The ringing still resonated within the Lieutenant's head, his ears twitching involuntary at the intruding sound. "What a fun night," he muttered as he brushed lint off of his white service dress jacket, lined with gold, his night blue dress shirt buried beneath, the many silver pips that lined his collar spoke volumes of his rank and achievements.

He held a hoof to his tufted ear once more before running it through his silver blue mane, he was young for his rank... Wearing a disheveled frown that seemed to have been carved onto his face. His mane hung in front of his face and he stared at it uselessly with a seemingly fierce expression as the ringing continued.

There were plenty of bat ponies around the area... It was their diplomatic party... But none wore a uniform of the United Equus Federation, none donned the moon with fiery gold wings on their shoulders as insignia. The highest ranking bat pony in the UEF was definitely a guest of honour at such an event, yet it was still unusual to wear the uniform amongst his own kind. Many others from the UEF had soon arrived, sweeping the area and escorting the disconcerted nobles out. But that was the least important thing plaguing his mind.

"Sir?" The words came, muffled and hazed. The Lieutenant shook his head and looked up, the ringing seeming to fade for a few moments as he regained concentration, sitting upon the back of an ambulance staring out at those leaving the manor.

"Yes Ensign what is it?" He asked with a few confused blinks.

"Are you feeling alright?" She asked with a raised brow.

"No, but I'll live," he sighed, rubbing his ear once more. "What's the situation?"

"We have a witness who claims to know who the attacker was," the Ensign stated with a quick glance down at her notes, rolling by on a slate of blue shaded glass. Wearing the same uniform as him, a white baseball cap with the UEF insignia blazoned upon the front sat atop her purple mane, dangling uselessly across her forehead.

He sat up, raising a brow at the ensign. "Attacker? I thought this was a kidnapping, our cellist is missing."

"Our cellist isn't our cellist," the ensign spoke vaguely, her golden eyes passing over the pad once more, "He was downstairs the whole time, he hadn't even left his dressing room."

"So this was an attack? On what?" He asked himself rhetorically. "Where is he?"

The Ensign glanced over her shoulder to a fuming stallion arguing with the nearby conductor. "That colourful individual there," she said with a peeved snort at the cellist.

"Thank you," he said with a grunt, forcing himself up from the bumper of the ambulance and beginning to trot over with an ambivalent look strewn across his features. "Start bagging evidence," he called over his shoulder.

"Aye sir," the Ensign responded robotically, before she moved off.

Passing through the holographic police lines that hovered in warning in front of the manor, the Lieutenant made his way to the two arguing stallions, catching only snippets of their conversation.

"I was shot! What did you expect me to do?!"

"Not get shot! That's what musicians do, we don't fuck up!"

"So my cello was stolen, I was shot and you blame me?!"

"Gentlecolts," the Lieutenant cut in, both their death glares moving to him before fading to guilty looks. "Is there a problem here?"

"Not at all..." The conductor mumbled grumpily.

With a smile the lieutenant turned to face the cellist. "I'm assuming you were this evenings performer?"

"Yes," he replied simply, "I was meant to perform this evening," he sneered at the conductor.

"The whole orchestra were performers too, there was a lot we couldn't play!" The conductor complained with a strained outburst.

"You may leave," was all that was said to him by the authoritative tone of the uniformed stallion.

"But~," was all he could make out before he was interrupted.

"Now," barked the Lieutenant as he glared him down.

With a sharp breath and an angry sigh he stormed off, passing the cellist by with a growl. "Don't expect to get payed for this."

The cellist watched him trot away before mumbling a few hushed curses at him. "Asshole..." He sighed, facing the Lieutenant. "Apologies, us musicians seek conflict where none exists."

Nodding at his simple explanation he got straight to business. "I am Lieutenant Alcor, with the UEF branch of information. As I understand it, it appears that the Thestral diplomatic manor was attacked this evening and you are labelled as a witness," he began, pulling out the glass slate that flickered to life as it began to record the current conversation.

"Yes, he shot me in the chest," he explained, gesturing to the empty patch of fur that had been fizzled away by the round.

"So it was a male who shot you?"

"Yes, had a big cheesy grin on his face when he shot me... I'll remember that face for a while."

"So you managed to look at him?"

"Look at him? Hell if I could paint I could make you a picture of him."

"Would you object to a memory screen of the past few hours?" Lieutenant Alcor asked.

"Memory screen? What would that involve?" The cellist asked with intrigue.

"A simple scan of the memories from the last few hours that will be taken as evidence," Alcor explained simply, his face still as deadpan as ever.

"I don't see a problem with it," he shrugged.

"Very good," Alcor said with a light smile, "Ensign Vela will arrange everything," gesturing to the Ensign from earlier, standing by a fold out table with evidence being collected and documented by several police officers.

"And what of my cello?" He asked.

With a feigned smile, he spoke in a rehearsed manner. "We'll endeavour to try and return it to you as soon as possible."

"What do you mean you're not coming back to the ship?" Duke asked, loosening his black bow tie as the shuttle bobbed on casually through the night.

"Raccoon has another job for me," was all that the British mare spoke through the comms.

"Sid..." He began with a disapproving tone.

"Look, it pays well and we need the money right now."

"And I don't like hearing in the news about assassinations and the sorts."

With a sigh Presidio came back on. "I won't be long, a day or two at most... I'll meet you back at Tal Shi'ar."

"I doubt I'll be able to find you once you step on that moon."

"I'll come straight to you, no fights, drinks or drugs... I'll steer clear this time."

"That'll be a first," Duke snickered.

"I can behave you know."

"Alright," he conceded with a humph, "Just kill the right person this time around."

"Last time was an accident I swear!" She argued back with a light chuckle following her voice. "I'll set you down, the Lucentia isn't far."

The whir of the engine soon began to slow as the shuttle began to descend and come to a hovered halt. Duke moved to the door and opened it with a satisfied hiss as the door swung upwards.

"I'm assuming you're taking the shuttle?" He asked as he slung the cello over his back and jumped out onto the stodgy muddled ground of the clearing. They were situated in the middle of a forest clearing, tall trees bushed out into the night sky as the moon just barely penetrated the leaves and long vines that hung there.

"Remote interface is still there so yes," she mumbled back, preoccupied at that point. "I need to get to my target somehow."

"Why not walk?" Duke asked as he closed the shuttle door and began to trot away, glancing back as it began to rise back into the night sky once more, the dull trill of crickets began to fill the atmosphere as it flew away.

"I'm not walking through space Duke."

With a laugh he made his way towards the darkened forest, a vine brushing past his hoof as he climbed over an overgrown root.

"Remember, Cals bedtime is soon, I don't want her up too long," Presidio reminded him.

"Eh, she works until she's tried, that little vent rat can manage herself," he mentioned, narrowing his eyes into the darkness, seeing the many uprooted trees, vines and stones. The dull glow of the manor could be seen through the cracks in the foliage, like a soft beacon glowing across the massive lake that separated the two locations, with fireflies bouncing and over the top of the water.

"I wish you'd stop calling her that."

Duke smirked as he continued to push through the undergrowth, the light of the moon highlighting his obstacles. "She likes it though, and it's not like it's not true."

"She may use the vents to get around but that's cause she's doing maintenance, she's hardly a rat."

"Either that or peeping in on us again," he chuckled.

"She hasn't done it yet, but when she does you and I will have to have a long talk with her."

"Yeah yeah, when and if you stop making so much noise."

Sid laughed at the remark before tutting lightly. "We both know that silencers reduce the stopping power of a round."

Duke raised a brow at her comment, pushing through some hanging vines to see the light glow of his ship in the distance, sitting right below another clearing. "I wasn't talking about firearms Sid."

"Neither was I," she teased back.

"Oh, you cheeky bitch."

"Bite me," was all she retorted. "I'll see you in a few days."

Duke smiled as looked up to the clearing. "Keep safe, don't die, drink water."

"I always do," was all that was said before the comm fell silent.

Approaching the illuminated ship, it's features soon came to light. Painted a copper brown and jutting out of the vined area. It stood upon four landing gears, pushing it up far to allow for the large underbelly of a cargo hold to fit in. Mostly rectangular in appearance, it's front face angled backward with many dull lights blooming out of the glass cockpit that sat on top of the beast.

It's monstrous underbelly sat open, a warm light pouring, the darkened sides of the ship were lit with the happy buzz of placid fireflies, hives hanging from the trees nearby.

"Home sweet home," he sighed with complacency. His approach was slow, sauntering over with the cello close at hoof and an undone bow tie dangling from around his neck.

The slow beat of a waltz soon began to ripple through the air from inside the ship. "Ah don't like this onnnnne bit," the southern twang of a stallion rang out.

With a smirk, Duke reached the hold bay ramp and began trotting up, chuckling at the sight before him.

A towering silver stallion stood by a small light blue filly who was grinning ear to ear as she attempted a simple waltz with him. A maze of metal stairs swung their way above them before making its way into the ship, the surrounding cargo hold was clear, with exception of the necessities they needed that sat towering by the walls around them.

He had a strained expression on his face, his desert mane stuck out loosely beneath an orange beanie with fluffy tassels. "You know ah can't dance." He held his body stiff, looming over the filly with a gruff and taciturn demeanour, seeming to wear it like an old empty scar.

"ToUgh." The filly responded erratically, her voice laced with a mechanical tinge. Her night blue mane sat up in a tidy bun with two braids running down either side of her cheeks, maintaining a modern look with a splash of oil grease and dirt marks that covered her body like tiny abstract tattoos.

The innards of the ship hung open for all to see, with loose cabling hanging from the ceiling and old crates lay discarded in corners of desolate dust. A flickering orange light hung amongst the many dozens that dangled from steel railings, stairs, walls and supports, lighting the cargo bay in a gentle orange haze.

"You would've enjoyed the ball you two... It was fun," Duke smirked as he trotted on through casually, the towering stallion breaking away from the filly instinctively. "Isn't it your bed time Cal?" Duke asked.

"I sLeep wHen I WaNt," she said with a tongue stuck out.

"Eh, that's what I told Sid."

With a giggle she ran back up to the tall silver stallion with glee.

"Cmon... I need to talk to this big old softie," Duke said, placing the cello down and ruffling her neatly done mane, "Cain and I still have work to do," Duke reminded Cain with a raised brow and a knowing smirk.

With a pout she stared up at Duke pleadingly.

"Cmon you little vent rat, I'm sure there's something for you to do for the time being."

"FiNe," she sighed, trotting away with a disappointed look in her purple speckled eyes.

"She really wanted to go to that ball tonight y'know," Cain said as she began climbing the metal stairs that mazes their way into the ship. He gave the desert goatee upon his chin and scratch before facing Duke with melancholic blue eyes

"By the looks of it so did you," Duke commented as he picked the cello up and began to walk towards one of the interior walls.

"Ahh you know Cal," he drawled out, "She gives you those puppy dog eyes and y'know you have to help," he smirked like it was already nostalgic.

"Nope, never happened to me before," Duke said with a thoughtful expression as he knelt by the wall, pressing the panel and letting it sink in with a thud.

Sliding into and away from the wall, Duke revealed one of the many hidden compartments. Filled with small cardboard boxes with loose paper and a few miscellaneous items he pushed the cello within.

"Well that says ah lot about you."

Duke grinned and nodded as he pulled the panel back into place. "Yup, it says I'm not a big softie like you."

"Harhar," Cain mocked with a roll of the eyes, "how was the mission?"

"Clean," Duke responded simply, "in and out without anypony knowing I was there to steal the cello."

"So this is the one who stole the cello?" Alcor asked as he looked at the photos of the tuxedoed white stallion that was Duke, holding his sidearm with a grin on his face.

"Yes, he was the one who shot me... As you can quite clearly see," the cellist sighed, looking at the images from his very own mind.

"Well then, it looks like I can start digging. Thank you, you may leave."

"Thank you," he said with a disgruntled sigh, sliding out of the chair and trotting out of the office.

"That went smoothly," Alcor sighed, leaning back in his seat as he glanced to the young Ensign that sat to his side facing the wall.

She wasn't as animated as the Lieutenant, holding a fierce concentration in her golden eyes as she sifted through mounds upon mounds of data, scrolling by her screen. She was so by the book she most likely rewrote it due to its inefficiencies. Her hair was kept in line at all times, always covered with a basic UEF cap.

"Hardly," she commented, swivelling around on her chair, the white overcoat hanging off the back, her dark blue dress shirt a sure contrast to the brown of the wall behind her. "Commandeering a police precinct is difficult paperwork."

"Hence why you do it for me," he said back with a small chuckle, leaning forward and peering at the photo again. "Say there Ensign Vela... Care to speculate with me?"

"Most mistakes are made by assumption and speculation... But sure," was all she mumbled as she lazed on over and dragged her chair with her.

"What do you see in this picture?" He asked, gesturing to Dukes grinning and armed form.

"A stallion who shot a cellist... What of it?"

He smirked and shook his head. "That's not speculation, that's stating the obvious... Most of the work you'll ever do in the Intelligence Branch is speculate... Find tiny details that can give us a clue."

With a sigh she looked closer, glancing back at him with her golden eyes before focussing once more. "He has a suit, well cut so he must be either wealthy or well supplied..." She began. "The reported pun could mean he was thinking a lot about this, which means the fact he is shooting a pony doesn't hold much weight."

"Good," he commented, watching her with vague interest, "continue."

Clearing her throat she examined the picture more. "The easy go lucky look is a sign of somepony experienced or mad but the mad don't plan this far without any hiccups."

"So he's experienced?" He asked to clarify.

"Yes, the hoof mounted weapon is typical but the rounds are definitely something new. He didn't go to kill, he stole a cello, he's experienced and well supplied."

"So a soldier of fortune that has been hired to steal a specialist good."

"Yes, but how does that help?"

He shrugged. "Well the only place with ponies this experienced or mad is Tal Shi'ar..."

"Well... Shit," she cursed as she flopped back in her chair.

"Is that a problem?" Alcor asked with a smirk.

"No sir... Other than the fact that no one in the UEF has ever gone in and come out normal. Anyone that visits is immediately blacklisted and monitored twenty-four seven."

"Didn't stop me."

"Pardon me?" She asked, her eyes widening in shock.

"Tal Shi'ar is easy to enter, harder to get out... But I've done it before."

"What? When?!"

"We have time for stories later... But now, focus on this stallion. Confirm it, find any other sightings of this guy... If we can point it at Tal Shi'ar then we can catch him," he said with determination, climbing out of his seat and trotting towards the door, fixing his coat as he moved.

"But we don't have jurisdiction in that space, the Zebras will blow us to pieces, if we get past the paid pirates in that area, how did you even get there?"

"Confirm it," he ordered, I'll arrange everything else."

"Sir?"

"Breathe the air deep Ensign, before it’s filled with opium and sex."

Author's Note

Thank you to NaughtSought for helping me pre read and edit this story, link below.

https://www.fimfiction.net/user/NaughtSought