FTL: Corsair

"A recent attack on the Thestral diplomatic manor has many politicians and diplomats fearing more for their lives when making public appearances in and around Federation occupied space," the newsmare rattled on, headlines scrolling beneath her; the ballroom could be seen behind with police lights fading in and out. "Many speculate what this could mean for the recent formation of the UEF and whether or not this attack was linked to the increased pirate activity coming in from the outer edges of the territory. Authorities thus far have refused to comment. Keeping you updated, UEF news-" the flat mounted TV shut off with a dissatisfied crackle as Duke slid the remote across the blackened marble kitchen bench.

"Well isn't that great," he sighed with a content grin, trotting out from the open kitchen with a glass of autumn coloured whiskey in hoof; moving into the joint dining room with slight swagger in his step. The clank of empty liquor bottles cried out as they were nudged uselessly as he made his way across the room to a coiled collection of neon lights that was their jukebox.

Leaning against the coloured collection of black onyx records, he stared, his breath fogging up the glass as he mashed several buttons to place a song in play.

It was easy to tell where the crew had been, with empty liquor bottles, old tablets, paper strewn into balls of inked maché that littered tables and select areas of the grey tiled floor. The wooden planked walls provided a warm glow to the room as the kitchen lights hung precariously and shone with a white iridescence, using old filament light bulbs instead of the newer laser diodes that were used more commonly.

Staggering over to the strained cream sofa, he grinned, clacking his glass on a coaster by the wooden coffee table that sat in front. With a puff he slumped down into the sofa, staring up at the now black tv screen that hung from the wall. A light crackle surprised him before he glanced at the spinning record inside the jukebox start up a lazy jazz trio, tapping through quietly. Sighing, he reached fourth and clambered for his drink, holding it up to the light with a cheeky snicker before taking a long sip, letting the burning sensation of wood tainted gold slither down his throat.

"I have to get a new bottle soon..." He thought to himself as he swished the liquid around in the glass, glancing to one of the many rotunda booths that sat in each corner of the mess, lone bottles lay like discarded corpses from one of his many drunken wars.

Lying back he held the glass to his chest and let his eyes shut slowly, the gentle hum of the engine rolled through the ship like the throbbing buzz of a hummingbird. He could feel his head throb periodically... Like counting sheep as his mind drifted further and further away.

Yet something jolted him from his sleep. A light scampering echoed through the vents of the ship, a light tapping that caused him to groan with uneasy adamance. Cracking his eyes open he stared at the nearby vent across the room, watching it slowly creak open.

With a grunt he sat up and rubbed his eyes, glancing back to see the small filly Cal squeezing through the vent shaft with ease, scrambling out and down to the floor. She was out of the frilly dress from earlier, instead wearing a scraggly and greased pair of overalls, with discoloured stripes running up her hooves, her shoulders leaving space for insignia to be placed, but it had long been torn off and replaced with a big smiley face sticker. Her dark blue mane had been taken out of its bun and lay in a tangled and coiled mess.

"Cal..." Duke began with a drone.

"I'm goIng, I'm GoiNg," she responded erratically as she moved towards the kitchen. "I caN't sleEp thoUgh," she stated with annoyance, her ears lying flat against her head.

"Count sheep," he chuckled tipsily to her.

"I RaN oUt," her robotic voice cracked back, "cAn I haVe somE?" She asked, trotting over and gesturing to the whiskey.

With a snort he shook his head. "This will not help you sleep," Duke assured her with a slur, before taking a slurp from his every empty glass.

"YOu loOk sleEPy," Cal pointed out, clambering up the couch and peering over the back at the kitchen.

"This is bad for you," he attempted to explain. "Besides... Presidio would kill me."

Giggling, Cal went on. "If I Can'T havE Any, let Me stAy up!" She bargained with a devilish smirk.

"Get me the bottle and we have a deal," Duke smirked, shaking his empty glass, clinking the ice within.

"Tell mE abOut the Ball?" She asked as well.

Duke merely shook his glass again. "We'll see."

With a electronic squee she skipped over the top of the couch and scampered off to fetch the bottle of whiskey. Duke breathed in deeply and ran a hoof through his disheveled brown mane.

"How's the engine?" Duke asked with a hefty cough and a grunt.

"PuRriNg siNce we ToOk off tWo houRs aGo," Cal called from the kitchen, skipping her way back in with the sloshing bottle of whiskey in her mouth.

"That's good," he sighed, taking the bottle gently from her and clumsily filling his glass once more.

"Tell mE aboUt the ball!" Cal demanded with an excited glimmer in her eye, pushing against his side with both her hooves.

Groaning he rolled his head around, resting it against the back of the sofa. "Now?" He asked adamantly.

"Do yOu liKe havinG power tO your rooM?" She asked with a smirk.

With a grunt he sat up. "You're getting too clever for me now," he sighed, rubbing his tired eyes once more.

"Cmon!" She begged, kneading his side with her hooves annoyingly.

"Alright alright," he surrendered, "where shall I start?"

"From the very beginning!"

"Alright... So... The universe used to be empty-"

"Beginning of the ball!" She whined, hitting his side playfully.

With a chuckle he gestured for her to come and rest by his side. The filly obliged and curled up next to him, his hoof ruffling her already messy mane. "So I arrived at the ball at arou-"

"Was it aT a caStle?" The filly interjected already.

"A small one yes," he chuckled, appealing to the filly's vibrant imagination, "with... Tall walls and banners hanging from every keep."

"Was thEre a DrawbRidge? And a MoAt?"

"The biggest drawbridge I'd ever seen for such a small castle, with big snapping crocodiles below," he clacked his teeth together to imitate them.

With a giggle she peered up at him, urging him to go on.

"There was a garden past the drawbridge... With every flower you could imagine, some I haven't even seen before."

"And hEdges? WiTh aniMals carVed into thEm?"

"Oh yes," he smirked, "a big sea serpent and a giant Phoenix. There were knights and all the walls had paintings on them. There were vines that wrapped around every pillar and-"

"A priNceSs?!" She asked excitedly, interrupting him again.

"The prettiest princess you could ever imagine," he slurred, bopping her nose playfully as she scrunched it up.

Dukes ears twitched involuntarily as a few hoofsteps echoed down the nearby hallway as Cain came trotting through with a disappointed look on his face.

"Why is she still up?"

"Oh you know Cal..." Duke began with a smirk, turning his head to see him, "She gives you those puppy dog eyes and y'know you have to help," Duke finished with a slightly southern twang to mimic Cain.

"Yeah... Ah'm sure," he grunted, nodding to the bottle, "you been drinking?"

"It helps with verbal fluency and good stories," Duke laughed.

"It'S a GoOd sTory!" Cal called to Cain, peering over the top of the couch at him.

"Ah'm sure it is, knowing Duke and his stories."

Duke snorted as he sipped the last of his drink away, "I told you how I met that big oaf didn't I?" Duke coughed.

"YeS," Cal replied softly, "he wAs uNder atTack by grYph-"

"The biggest gryphons!" Duke announced with a roar, "right before I scared the lot of them off."

"Yes, and last I checked they were a problem for the next two months." Cain mumbled as he trotted over and picked the reluctant Cal up. "C'mon you, sleep or build something, you were up all day."

With a humpf, she clambered onto his back, holding onto his long mane comfortably, twirling it around a hoof.

"Those were the days weren't they Cain?" Duke asked, continuing the conversation with a drunken slur.

"Ah don't miss the military," he stated before looking down at Duke.

"Neither do I... But still we had fun."

"You," Cain said with the same fatherly tone he gave Cal, "Sleep."

With a roll of his eyes he placed his glass down uneasily. "Don't order the hooves that pay you," Duke said with a wobble.

"I'm merely trying to keep those hooves well rested."

"NiGht DuKesy!" Cal yelled happily as Cain took her away.

"Night Cal!" He called back with the same enthusiasm.

"Duke go to bed," Cain repeated as he climbed the small metal framed steps up into the circular corridor, illuminated in darkness.

With a grunt he rolled off of the couch and began to make his own drunken way to bed, letting the record spin on cluelessly. Stumbling up the stairs he entered the labyrinth of corridors that ate their way through the ship, his hooves clanging loudly against the metal walkway that sat beneath him.

Everything felt like it was rocking back and fourth, the walkway seemed to swing as Duke stumbled along and clung to the rails that flanked him. Leaning against the wall he stabilised himself and leaned down, gripping a latch down by the wall. With a tug the panel came undone and rolled away to reveal a ladder.

Carefully he pressed his hooves against the wall as he lowered himself down, his hind hooves lazily searching for the first rung so he could clamber down. Beginning his descent, he hit the wall beside him and the panel above him rolled back over and clicked shut. "Oh the joys of being close to the mess hall," he thought with a tired smile.

Making his way down the ladder he felt his hind hoof hit the floor and he awkwardly pushed off and stumbled into the room below.

Filled with the gentle blue haze of a nebula in the far distance out the window, a smoky prelude to future things. The clutter of his room was in a surprisingly controlled chaos. A bookshelf sat in the corner directly in front, filled with books and several bobble heads of sports stars and controversial games that nodded to the throb of the engine.

The walls held many posters and frames, one yelling "Vaporian champions league" in bright blue letters, another of a signed shirt of one of the players with the number 77. His old military uniform pressed against the glass of its frame, the blue dress shirt with silver linings held two medals, whilst the overbearing white dress jacket with gold on its sides held silver pips along the collar.

Sitting in the back centre was a large double bed, tied down neatly, the duvet tucked beneath the mattress with military hospital corners jutting out. His suit from earlier lay crumpled upon its surface. A flickering holographic console sat on the desk across from the bed, clearly faulty.

All of which stared out the large circular window that stared out into the frozen abyss of space. "Peace," Duke slurred, stumbling forward and falling flat onto the bed with a light bounce, "I wonder how long that will last."

*

"Our mission is a go," Alcor announced as he pushed through the police precinct doors, trotting past the many cubicles that filled the large room. All the desks had a matching black chair, every one empty and desolate, the desk lamps all off with exception of one.

"They approved our mission?" Ensign Vela asked, peeking up over her console with a confused glare.

"Of course! It's only a trip to the most dangerous territory in explored space," he smirked as he crashed down into a rolling chair once more, scooting over to her with a steady glide.

"And they just said yes?" She practically repeated with the same unbelieving glare.

"Well I outlined that there was a great intelligence sweep we could do and that convinced them," he smiled.

"So we're chasing a thief and catching up on all the corrupt politicians in UEF space?"

"Exactly!" He clapped her shoulder. "But that is our secondary objective... Right now, we want to catch our guy."

She chuckled and turned back to her console, typing up one of her many thousand reports. "Haven't come up for a nickname for him?" She asked with surprise. "The cello snatcher? The noble napper?"

"How about twat? Easy to remember isn't it?" Alcor snorted, "it's not like he'll be out for long, we'll have him sooner or later."

"Of course," she agreed immediately, focussing back at her work.

"Now! Before I forget, I need you to sign this," he said pulling a glass slate from his pocket, sliding it across the table as it flickered to life.

"What is this?" She asked as she began reading, her hooves still on her keyboard. "Wait... What?!" She exclaimed as she slipped it up into her hooves.

"You're being discharged, this is your report," Alcor explained.

"B-but... This is... What why?!"

"There have never been any official mission to Tal Shi'ar ever, too many informants snap up information like this."

Vela stared in shock as she read the rolling screen. "Being discharged for aggravated assault and for treason against the UEF? Who wrote this?"

"I did," Alcor admitted, "a newly promoted Ensign tends to get ahead of themselves."

"But I did none of these things!" She argued back immediately, tossing the slate back at him.

With a sigh he tapped the table as he thought. "Okay... Let me explain this differently... If we go to Tal Shi'ar whilst working for the UEF information Branch on an official mission..." He said clearly, staring at her very seriously. "We will die, or worse."

She bit her cheek gently as she mulled the prospect over. Raising a hesitant hoof she reached forward and grabbed the slate. "So I'm signing an indemnity form?"

"Exactly... Except it's temporary, once this is signed, officially we are no longer working for the Branch of information... Our files remain untouched but these files and our following report of the mission, will go to the Federation Branch of Espionage and Subterfuge... Do you understand?" He asked, staring at her, his calm and light hearted demeanour was gone.

"Should we not make a plan first?"

"No, if we do that it looks like we're planning to go undercover... If we get discharged dishonourably and run to Tal Shi'ar, we'll fit right in."

"And what of my pay during this time?"

"Paid leave and bonuses paid to an off base account, our mission funding is also there."

"Mission funding?" Vela asked.

Running a hoof along his lips he mimicked a zipper closing.

"Right... Confidential..." She mumbled before sighing. "Fine, I'll do it," she submitted, pressing her hoof onto the dotted line, the slate flashing green as it scanned her hoof. With a satisfied Bing it accepted her hoof and she gave it back to Alcor. "So what now sir?

"Firstly, drop the sir, neither of us have rank anymore," he explained before wheeling her chair away and scooting in front of her monitor, saving and closing all her open files. "Secondly we have new dossiers." He smiled, pulling up the login screen and typing in a line of numbers as his name, instead of the usual initials.

"A spy network?" She asked with a sarcastic tone.

"Of course," he murmured, the screen flickering off before welcoming him with a longer stream of numbers that soon lead to the darkened desktop with only one file sitting in the top corner. "How else would I get orders?"

She kept silent as she watched him open up the folder and open two documents, revealing new aliases, occupations, backgrounds and histories. "Why do we need fake identification?" She asked cluelessly.

"We have been discharged from the UEF, your commanding officer has more redacted files on his record than would be necessary and now we are both now wanted for treason against the princesses and the UEF... I'd get a new ID."

"Yeah... You're right."

"I thought your deduction skills were a lot better than this Ensign," he smiled as he began to copy the files over onto the slate still in hoof.

"Drop the rank Alcor," she quipped back.

With a laugh he closed the files and pocketed the slate. "Enjoy this while it lasts."

"So I'll get my job back?"

"There'll always be paper to be pushed," he smirked, clapping her shoulder once more. "Now, tell me what you know of Tal Shi'ar?" He asked, pulling open a command prompt on the screen and typing in several commands.

"Only as much as everypony else, it's a pirate haven out at the edge of the UEF territories, but last I checked the only way to get in is by joining a pirate gang or getting captured by said pirate gangs," she recounted to him.

"That much is true but there's a lot more that we keep away from the public," he said, typing slowly as he spoke.

Vela sat up and looked at the screen that popped up as he hit enter. "What the-"

"It's a city, fully self sufficient and built on the inside of an asteroid," he said, gesturing to the many blurred photos of the gargantuan asteroid with many spires and buildings jutting out of it. Surrounding it was a bombardment of smaller rocks and ship debris as it flew by simply, a bright concentration of white light on the photo showed a high powered energy round fired at whatever ship took the photos.

"But... How? They're pirates, how have they built all this?" She asked dumbfounded.

He nodded and pulled up a separate window. "They have a very loose government, a monarchy... Or an oligarchy, something like that," he rattled on, speeding up to get to the point, "they are controlled by the stallion here," pointing at the dossier file, an empty picture merely stared back with extremely limited information. "He is a Zebra that goes by the name of 'Raccoon'."

She snorted and raised her brow, "Raccoon?" She asked, "an unusual alias if you ask me."

"One that manages to control all four pirate clans. Every photo we ever take gets deleted. Age is Uknown, family is Uknown, birthplace is Uknown... He was first sighted eighteen years ago as an arms dealer working out of the United Zebra colonies... Though they'll deny any affiliation," he muttered under his breath. "Eight years later and he was in charge of the newly formed pirate fleet and they pillaged a heavily defended mining base and built Tal Shi'ar atop the ruins... After that all we have are loose reports of his scavenging parties during the war and the supply of narcotics and weapons coming from that location."

"This is a lot to read," she mumbled, skimming through the reports.

"He's on the top five most wanted list... Plenty to read and plenty of time to read it," Alcor said before closing the computer down. "Come, we're fugitives now, act the part." Slipping on a pair of black sunglasses and making his way back to the front of the station.

Glancing down at the bag at her side she nodded to herself instinctively before scooping it up and following after him quickly as he pushed open the doors to the heavy blur of rain falling down as the haze of nearby cars whizzed by. The doors slowly eased shut as she slipped past and followed the ever moving Alcor.

"Alcor, where are we going?" She asked as she pushed through other ponies with umbrellas walking towards them.

"We have a flight to catch," he said as deadpan as ever, glancing across the street at the few police officers patrolling through the dampened night.

"You haven't exactly told me much," she started, nudging and weaving to keep up with him. "I'm expecting some answers."

"All in due time, but right now we could be caught before we even begin," he explained, clinging to the walls of buildings to avoid the crowd before turning down a dark alley.

"I'm not trained for this kind of work, I've been trained for administration duties," she rattled on, Alcor turning and pushing her up against the alley wall with a thud.

"Then why'd you sign the form," he asked with a tilt in his head, the rain pelting their wet uniforms.

"Nothing was explained to me," she hissed at him, struggling against his grip.

"I outlined that we would be going into the most dangerous area of space, without an official UEF organisation at our backs. I can't have you flip flopping on things like this, we just left the fucking station."

"I want to catch this guy as much as you but I need some assurances," she growled once more.

He sighed and let her go before continuing to walk down the alley. "We can talk when we're out of the rain."

She brushed and fixed her uniform before glaring at his back, following reluctantly. "Sure," she muttered to him.

Passing around the back of several buildings they wound their way around. The once neon colour roads and cars were gone and they trotted on empty concrete grounds, covered with rubbish and discarded cigarettes, several bottles lining their way.

Above loomed the tall buildings with their brightly coloured signs and holographic advertisement projections. Eventually all that passed Vela was hooded stallions coughing and sputtering, or a bat pony collecting mounds of garbage into the confines of a trolley, pushing it along.

They navigated the streets in silence, Vela following a few steps behind, glancing at the underbelly of a city she didn't know, everything hidden away behind polished metals and shining advertisements.

Passing around another broken corner they began to pass through the fields of steam that rose from industrial plates below them, a group of hooded individuals stood in the distance, smoking and loitering as one tagged the wall with profanities and gang signs.

"Alcor... Where are we going?" She piped up cautiously.

"Just keep your cool," he whispered back on their approach. A few stallions pushed away from the wall and began to notice the approaching pair with peaked interest.

"Check this out," Vela heard one mumble as the group ceased what they were doing and approached, confronting Alcor and Vela, surrounding them in a stumbled fashion.

"What brings... The UEF back here?" One asked with a sniff, twirling his cigarette around in his lips with his magic.

"I could ask the same thing," Alcor replied with a smirk.

The group laughed and the lead approached, sending out fumes of smoke as he chuckled. "I don't see me wearing a uniform... I'm too much of... An aristocrat," he smiled, his face lighting up with the embers of his cigarette.

"I wouldn't argue with that," Alcor said, "do you have what I need?" He asked, standing staunch as ever.

The lead stallion chuckled again and glanced around nervously before his whole demeanour shattered. "Of course," he spoke, his voice changing into a gruff rumble as he threw his cigarette away. Moving to a nearby garbage container he opened it and drew fourth two black duffle bags, sliding them across the ground towards them. "Change of clothes, new ID's, a ship and a few extras."

"Thank you Aristocrat," Alcor smiled, picking both bags up.

"Who's the newbie?"

"Potential operative," he said, glancing back at her, "if she becomes more decisive."

The Aristocrat smirked, "let's hope she learns quickly."

"With me? Of course she will," Alcor boasted.

"It's good to have you back either way Alcor, the FBES is looking forward to your report," the Aristocrat said as he passed Alcor, leading his group away just as quickly as they arrived.

"Fortitudo et ordinem," was all he muttered as the group vanished back into the steamed alleyway.

*

Pushing through the double doors with a heavy groan, the hooded stallion stepped past the gold gilded chamber behind him and into a labyrinth of metal and jutted stone, crimson lights mounting the wall and coating all in its dull red glow. The smell of a musky herbal fume began to flow through, causing him to turn his nose but he pushed through as the doors closed shut behind him and the essence that filled the air became stronger as he approached one final door, pushing it open with ease.

Greeted with the crowds of all different races taking part in acts of violent debauchery that lined the many booths that clung to each wall of the massive domed chamber he entered. A group on his right lay motionless on bean bags, puffing out large quantities of smoke from the collective group hookah, the flowered scent of opium slipping by on the deft sense of many bat ponies that clung from ceiling, watching down with curious interest as they continued their low chattering above.

Around him, the smell of various drugs filled the air, the heavy beat of an techno ragtime rumbled through his hooves as a DJ flicked more records on, clearly on a high of his own. Drinks clinked together at a neon filled bar at the far wall next to the DJ, a gryphon sat lonesome by the tabletop whilst many behind stumbled and held their heads clutched as they sat there. Every booth was accompanied by a curtain, several lay shut to conceal whatever illegal business deal or questionable acts went down. Laughs and yelling took place at all tables, with those gambling with liars dice and other games like blackjack and poker, whilst edged their limbs closer and closer to collections of dangerous spiders within a jar whilst others cheered on.

A bull stood guard by the far door, with a gryphon wandering past the many groups with a rifle slung over its feathered back. A hoof fight was merely beginning as two mares began to fight and yell at each other, hardly any eyes glanced over to observe as all continued in their worlds of tired euphoria.

A working mare had strutted her way past a group who grabbed at her legs and pulled her away with a playful squeal as her work had merely begun. Others merely followed the workers to sets of white soaked doors, glowing like a fire amongst water.

The stallion weaved his way around the crowds of drunken groups and the fumes of far too many drugs to name, a heavy musk lingering above all of their heads. With a cough he cleared his senses as he arrived to the guarded door, the bull snorting as he arrived, moving in front of the door with a growl.

"No appointments are being taken right now," he stated with a low rumble.

"Oh I have an appointment," the hooded stallion smiled warmly, walking forward to be nudged back by the bull.

"No visitors..." He growled again.

"I'm not here to visit, I'm on business," he said, not thinking anything of the aggressive nature of the bull.

"No pony can enter."

"No pony? What about a gryphon? Or a dragon?" The stallion asked, oblivious to the fuming bull who's patience was running thin and the arrival of the armed gryphon behind him, with his rifle drawn and held firmly as he leaned back on his hind paws.

"Not anything or anyone!" He clarified with a bark, taking a step forward. "I suggest you leave."

"Thank you for your suggestion, but I'm here on business," he said once again.

"Alright, get him out of here!" He barked at the gryphon who approached with his rifle aimed at the stallion.

As the gryphon approached, the stallion spun round and pushed the rifle away from himself, a few reaction shots cracked against the wall. With a heavy push he smacked the butt of the rifle into the gryphons beak, sending him stumbling back.

The bull had ducked as the shots hit the wall next to him before he rose and drew a sidearm which was quickly smacked away by the stallions rifle, the barrel of the gun soon forced into the Bulls throat as he pinned him to the wall.

"I have business," he repeated with a much colder tone, the gryphon stumbling up, holding his beak painfully as many of the relaxing and pleasure taking groups stared over at the scene; the music had stopped and all had a hoof or claw on their sidearms, the light click of their safeties flicking off as they all began aiming their weapons in whatever direction they could.

The bull glared at him, keeping still as the rifle loosened from his throat. "I can't let you-" he began before being swiftly cut off by the intercom behind him.

"Let him in," the male voice rung out in a crackled tone.

"Boss?" The bull asked.

"I said let him innnnn," the voice sang.

The rifle lowered and he threw it to the ground as the bull glared before stepping away from the door and letting the stallion to pass through.

"Thank you," he said with a casual tone, as if he had just spoken to a receptionist, waving at the crowd of armed guests who reluctantly holstered their weapons and began their previous activities.

Pushing through the metal cast door he smiled, lowering his hood as he passed through a narrow hallway, the natural thud of the music had begun to play as he left the scene. The door clunked to a close behind him as he approached the end of the hallway, passing into a similar dome shaped room.

The room, like the other had booths, but was instead a square and held no tables or curtains but instead large arrays of cushions from every corner of the Federation: the gold threaded Crimson fronts of the dragons, the purple and blue faded backs of the bat ponies, and the abstract twirls of the zebra colonies... All lay around with ponies dressed in suits of black and dragons that breathed over a variation of a chess game. A gryphon sat amongst the cushions with several mares surrounding him, all puffing out thick streams of smoke as he admired them with a hungry lust.

The pair were small steps from the hallway that lead to a flat plateau of metal and neon blue coloured lights, a fire pit sat in the centre, burning with hot embers, with another set of steps past that, leading up to a throne of cushioned stone, light beaming down from above.

Approaching, the many eyes of those in the booths glanced over him, the sight of a dragon by the throne peaked his interest, staring at him with curious abandon.

A zebra stallion sat upon the throne, laying across it with his hind hooves resting on the arm as he admired a bottle of wine that swirled in its bottle. His stripes lay as they should but began to become jagged and zig zagged their way across the lower part of his body, his flank was adorned with a jagged circle with a flowing triangle in the centre. A small blackened waist coat lay stuck to his upper body, a small bowler hat atop his striped mane. His eyes stared with a melancholic blue, his face adorned with black paint around his eyes, mimicking that of a Raccoon.

"The fact that I have no clue who you are or where you come from is, in itself a maddening mystery," the stallion said with a smirk, glancing over at the stallion, sitting upright and leaning forward with a crazed twinkle in his eyes. "And I know everyone, everywhere," he whispered with a raised brow.

"Raccoon I take it?" The stallion presumed as he stepped forward and into the light. His coat was a Prussian blue which made his whitened mane stand out rather abruptly, his emerald green eyes looked up at the Zebra with polite courtesy.

"Hmmmm..." He hummed, rolling upside down with his head hanging off the throne, looking at him inverted. "So far you have more information than I do... That either makes you my enemy or my new best friend," he said.

"I still have an unanswered question."

"And I still require recompense for information," the Zebra smiled wickedly. "I am the Raccoon you speak of," he confirmed before rolling off the seat and falling to his hooves, approaching with a light saunter. "And whom might you be?"

With a polite nod and a smile he turned to face Raccoon. "I am Dr Bright, advanced AI and psychology," he said with a humbled tone.

"Ooooh!" Racoon cooed, "a shrink," he mocked with a cackle, moving back to his throne and sitting down upon it once more, taking a swig of wine, holding up his hoof to tell him to wait. With a satisfied sigh he licked his lips and leaned forward once more. "And what brings you to my court, shrink?"

"If it pleases you, I'd prefer to speak in private," Bright requested.

There was a light snicker that rolled around the walls, Bright raised his brow and glanced around in confusion. "If we did that, there's a chance you could kill me, or put an... Advanced AI... In my place," Raccoon giggled, bobbing his head as he spoke.

"Why would I do that?" Bright asked obliviously.

With another chuckle Raccoon sat back and sighed, "I'm a hated individual, anyone could've hired you to kill me."

"I don't hate you, I've just met you," Bright continued with a confused expression upon his face.

Raccoon's smile faded in a tiresome effort. "Either you tell me why you enter my haven, assault my guards and waste my time... Or you leave," he said in the most serious tone he could muster.

Glancing round at the many guests in the court that sat in their cushioned paradises, all eyes upon him. The dragon by Raccoon's throne had stood up and began to eye him up dangerously.

"I've come too far to just turn and leave," Bright conceded at his words. "I need to escape into UEF space."

A heavy laugh immediately erupted in the room, even the dragon smirked as Raccoon stared with a fierce concentration. Raising his hoof, the laughter dissipated immediately. "Into?... You want to go into UEF space?" He asked, double checking he heard correctly by scratching his blackened ears carefully.

"Yes, is that a problem?"

"No... Merely an unusual request," he said with a courteous smile before standing once more, scratching his chin slowly.

"I can pay whatever price you ask," Bright clarified, trying to win him over.

"Payment isn't the issue," Raccoon explained. "Getting out of UEF space is easy; we have a routine and a protocol... The UEF only chases you for so long before they reach unchartered territories and turn around. What are you running from? There's nothing beyond the territories."

"I'm afraid that you are wrong," Bright said, his polite smile had faded to a crooked frown.

A brief silence filled the room as Raccoon merely stared down at him. "You claim to have more information than I do?"

"No, I merely know that you shouldn't be taking ponies out of UEF territories... You need to be bringing them back in."