Far Away

CHAPTER XXXIII

Anger is not at fault for violence. Stress is not at fault for mistake. The only one at fault is you, for allowing your emotions to control you. Mutare vos cogitations.

The bright fluorescent lights inside the police station made Daring shield her eyes as she approached it, following the officer obediently. She did have the option to run away right now, but decided against it as she did not want to cause herself to be in a deeper hole than she already is in. She followed him through the glass door into the station. He led her through several corridors, then into a small room. It was painted completely white and the only objects that resided inside were two oaken chairs and a metallic table which reflected the bright light harshly into the observer’s eyes.

“Wait here,” ordered the officer, “Somepony will come shortly.”

Daring sat herself down on one of the chairs and contemplated about the situation she got herself into. She had one week and four days to do whatever is in her power to save Jack; it was a race against time. She watched the clock that hung on the wall tick, the thin second hand clicking constantly. The door creaked open after a few minutes or so and a unicorn with a black mane and grey coat entered with a small, cream coloured file that seemed to contain only a few pieces of paper, some dangling out the back.

“Good evening,” he said in a cultured accent, “How do you do?”

“Good, sir,” Daring responded, forgetting to ask the unicorn if he was well also.

“Good. Let’s get to the point, shall we?” he asked rhetorically. “Firstly,” he started, “My name is Videre, and I will be asking you a few questions tonight.”

Videre paused for a moment, and silently prompted Daring to give him her name. “My name is Daring Do,” she said.

Videre took out a writing pad and quill and started writing on it, not turning down to look at his page as the quill was under the manipulation of his magic. “So, under what circumstances were you led to trespassing property of royalty and attempting to steal a precious flower know as a ‘fire flower’?”

“You see, my friend in currently situated in Manehattan has developed blood poisoning through the means of a shell through the shoulder,” Daring replied, re-thinking every word to make sure she did not screw up by accident.

“I see,” replied Videre thoughtfully, “Manehattan? Yes?”

“Yes sir.”

“Well, I do not know if you are telling the truth. There is currently a war raging on and Manhattan is currently mostly occupied by enemy forces. May I ask, how do you know of this because only military personnel are allowed in the region of Manehattan currently and no letters are allowed out of the area unless approved by Commander Spitfire who is currently commanding the regiments there,” informed Videre smartly, tapping his quill on the table with a steady beat.

“Yes, I am aware of that, and I was there because my friend is on good terms with the princess and was willing to fight. He is probably the most talented sniper in these lands,” Daring retorted.

“That is very unlikely, but I shall hold you as innocent until proven to be guilty beyond reasonable doubt as the Equestrian Constitution dictates under article three, section five. We shall find a court as soon as possible to resolve this issue. Charges of trespassing land owned by royalty and stealing precious assets from it can land you a – let’s see…” said Videre calmly, “Fifteen years in imprisonment in a medium security gaol.”

“Do you not believe me?” asked Daring in astonishment, “Just you wait, Videre. The princess will side with me.”

Videre shrugged indifferently. “That’s something I hear very often, madam. Also, since you committed a criminal offence and the act was observed by an officer, we have the authority to detain you until you appeal before court.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jack heard the hushed whispers of discussion and the frantic galloping of hooves in the building though the whole of the day. He finally mustered the strength to stand and walk for short periods of time. One major inconvenience was the wound in his left shoulder, which hurt every time he moved the corresponding limb. Jack hobbled slowly down the stairs and made his way to the room where all the noise was coming from, out of sheer curiosity.

Jack approached the door and heard the scratching of quills and pens on paper, the tapping of impatient hooves on the table and the pop of the caps of the ink wells being untightened. He peeked inside to see a large room with a massive table spanning the length of it with ponies sitting on either side of it. At the front of the room, a large map of Manehattan was hung, beside which a blackboard was situated with a very scruffy and annoyed Spitfire standing in front of it, raising a hoof to silence the room.

“Ok! That’s enough!” she yelled over the din, projecting her voice so all could hear, “Silence!” The room fell silent immediately as she had commanded, the fires of anger burning in her eyes as she stared at multiple specific Wonderbolts around the table. She then looked up at the doorway to look at the clock that was situated above the metal frame, and saw Jack leaning against the door. “Come in Jackson. No need to cower,” she said, now directing the centre of attention to Jack, who was standing at the door feeling uncomfortable at all the attention he was getting.

“No, I’m fine Captain,” he replied, stepping a hoof away from the room.

“I insist,” Spitfire countered.

Jack gave in to her comments and walked into the room and sat down at one of the many spare chairs around the table. “If you insist,” he whispered inwardly with a sigh.

“Alright folks!” Spitfire began, “As you all know, we were planning to withdraw from the front lines this week. This plan will be unfortunately, postponed. We are the elite ranks of the army, and when our nation is under threat, we are there. You probably did not notice that last night, a team of enemy scouts have infiltrated the UMH. We luckily have extracted our scientists the night before and took all important documents as well. A lot of documents remain, and if the drakes can out two and two together, they will also have megaspells.”

A tense atmosphere fell over the ponies sitting at the table. Some flinched at the idea. Most knew not what a megaspell was but assumed that it was something very destructive due to the name.

“A report has also come in about a presence in the Everfree Forest. The Bureau of Magic has detected a strong aura over the Everfree and issued a high alert to the citizens of the surrounding towns and villages. I have decided to send squadron two to investigate this, to scout the area as they have done before. Squadron four shall fill in squadron two’s missed patrol shifts. That’s all folks,” Spitfire ended, then paused. “And also, please take care. We already have enough injuries to deal with.”

Jack stood up quickly, and immediately regretted it. He felt his head ache with small, continuous electric bursts. He saw the room twist and turn in bizarre ways and stars swam in is vision. The only thing he thought he could do was to crash back into his chair and clutch his forehead with his hooves, rubbing his temple. In the bustle of the room, nopony noticed Jack as they impatiently made their way out of the room. Nopony except for Fire Streak, who was already planning to see Jack.

Fire cast his eyes around the room, trying to find Jack. His brown coat and mane made him especially easy to find, contrasting with the blues and greens which were the most common colour varieties for pegasi to be born with. Fire Streak spotted him almost immediately from the other side of the room. He saw him clutching his head in his hooves, like he was pained in some way.

He leapt across the table to the other side of the room and trotted up beside Jack. “Hey, what’s wrong?” Fire Streak asked with concern.

“N-nothing,” Jack stammered, attempting to stand again to prove that nothing was wrong. As he did, a piercing pain shot through his head again, and forced him back onto the chair. “Balefire, this hurts!” he cursed.

Fire Streak spotted what ailed his friend and offered a hoof to get Jack back into the infirmary. Jack willingly took the offer, grasping Fire’s hoof and pulling himself up and then started to lean onto him for support. There were exactly two things in Jack’s mind right now: firstly, ‘get the hell into bed and take painkillers,’ and secondly, ‘where is Daring when I need her?’

Jack stumbled his way up the narrow flight of stairs up to the infirmary and entered his small room and crashed into his bed. Jack reached out for the painkillers on his nightstand and the tall glass of water. He threw the small white pills into his mouth and gulped the water down ferociously, then setting it down back on the small table and wiping his lips, all the while being watched by a very indecisive Fire Streak.

Fire Streak contemplated helping Jack but by the time he had entered Jack’s room, Jack was already gulping down the painkillers. “Better now?” was all Fire asked.

Jack nodded and settled into his fluffy pillows, which were sagging under the weight of his head. He turned slightly and angled his head so he could see out of the windows into the dark sky and let loose a long, shuddering sigh. Out of the drawer, Jack pulled a scroll of parchment that he was working on earlier and handed it to Fire to let him inspect.

“Wait… What?” exclaimed Fire Streak, “You’re going to live Jack, trust me. Even Celestia is behind your back, remember?”

"This is a precaution, Fire Streak,” explained Jack irritably, “Just read the god damned thing.”

Fire Streak scanned the page and gasped at what he saw. “This must be… a mistake,” he muttered, “It must be!” In bewilderment, Fire turned to Jack. “Are you really leaving fifty thousand bits to me?”

Jack nodded. “You saved my life, Fire Streak,” he said solemnly, “Now I shall do that act justice.”

“Also, you are leaving no money to your relatives, Jack,” added Fire Streak.

“My parents have passed already and I have no siblings,” answered Jack, “Leaving money to those closest to me is the only option I have.”

“I-I’m sorry,” apologized Fire Streak, “I never knew.”

“Don’t worry, you don’t have to be sorry. The one who has to be sorry is me. I have not yet thanked you for saving my life yet, and I don’t think I can ever. I am forever in your debt, Fire Streak.”

“Before you go on, I wish to reveal something to you, Jack,” Fire Streak said hurriedly.

“Yes?”

“You wouldn’t have been in such a state if I shot the drake who injured you earlier,” Fire Streak stumbled over his words a bit, “I missed half a magazine of bullets.”

Jack stared blankly at Fire Streak, who shook slightly, which was not noticeable to the naked eye. Fire’s muscles tensed in anticipation of whatever harsh words would be tossed at him, as would have happened if any of his comrades were in the same position. None came. “And may I inquire how that changes anything?” asked Jack, surprising Fire Streak greatly.

“N-no. It changes nothing, yes. Just a small detail you might’ve wanted to know,” Fire Streak blurted out almost too eagerly, flooded with relief that what he had anticipated did not come his way.

Jack raised an eyebrow quizzically, but then, he learned not to ask too many questions. “Ok…” Jack sighed, “It really does not change anything.”

The door slammed open in the awkward silence between the two ponies and a familiar light blue mare trotted in with a scroll in her mouth. She trotted up to Jack, dropped the scroll on his head and sat down onto a spare chair. “Well, the Princess got your message and replied,” she announced, “Also, she wants you back in Canterlot by the end of this week. She wouldn’t tell me why when I asked so you’ll have to find out yourself.”

Jack opened the scroll, which revealed the following:

Dear Jackson,

I have alerted my secretary, who is currently in Stalliongrad about the situation. He will be on the job straight away. Also, if Fleetfoot did not tell you, I expect you to be at the castle by the end of the week. We have a few pressing issues to discuss. I shall not write them here due to the possibility of interception of this letter and the confidentiality of the information.

Yours truly, and forever,

Princess Celestia

“So… How do I get to Canterlot?” Jack asked at nopony in particular, more like asking it to the room and air.

“Easy. Use the train,” replied Fleetfoot casually, brushing her wings with a hoof.

Jack sighed inaudibly. “That was a rhetorical question.”