CSI: Canterlot - The Rich and The Poor

"We found your murder weapon, just about 23 feet away from the murder site," Clever said, walking into Clear's office. Clear was focusing on her laptop.

"Show me," she said, readjusting her glasses and taking a look. Clever held the object above the desk: a folded-in metal cylinder with a rounded end, covered in dry blood. Clear quickly covered her hooves with latex gloves before examining the object. She looked back at her laptop with utter confusion on her face.

"What's up?" Siyde asked, not sure of what was wrong. Clear looked at Siyde and Clever with a very concerned look.

"The only thing we know that can create this kind of propulsion effortlessly is a high power engine...like, like a jet or a rocket, which makes no logical sense given the circumstance," Clear pointed out, "the only other conclusion I can make..."

"Is that our killer is one of a kind," Clever finished, as he commonly thought alike with Clear "a unicorn." Clear suddenly got up, closing her laptop.

"Get the rest of the team in conference, and I want the sheriff there, too," Clear said, "right now, pronto." She shooed them off, collecting some papers from a printer and walking towards a conference room. She peaked into the lab where Fiddlestick was, motioning for him to come out as well. As the CSI gathered in the room, Clear paced back and forth at the front of a white board. Finally, the Sheriff walked in, Officer Brass Cuffs. He was about 50, and showed it well. His mane was dark grey, white at the tips. He wore a two piece suit with a badge on his left side and his coat was a pale indigo color.

"What's the deal, Clear?" Cuffs asked, his voice raspy as usual. Clear stopped pacing and faced her team.

"Unicorns began to die off around 1600 CE, shortly after the death of Princess Twilight Sparkle," Clear began to explain. "Most ponies think that the unicorns are completely extinct, and, as DNA suggests, the genetic combinations that create a unicorn are entirely recessive. Pegasi as well started to decrease in population size around 1900 CE. I find it personally fascinating that we have one in our team." Clear took a moment to recognize the new member, whom nobody else had met.

"Who's the new guy, Clear?" Clever asked, looking at Fiddle. Fiddle sat quietly, a little red from recognition.

"Everyone, this is Fiddlestick," Clear said, "he's our new lab worker." Siyde, who was sitting beside Fiddlestick, immediately turned to shake his hoof.

"Nice to have you on the team, Sticks," she said, smiling. "My name is Brite Siyde." Fiddle mused at the mention of the nickname again, is that what everyone was going to call him now?

"And I'm Blue Clever, that's Officer Brass Cuffs," Clever said, pointing towards the grumpy-looking officer, who just nodded briefly towards Fiddlestick, before turning back to Clear.

"That's great and all," Cuffs said, "but can you tell me why this meeting was so urgent? You could have introduced me after I finished my expresso."

"Oh, I didn't call anyone here to introduce anyone," Clear said, returning to the prior conversation, "as we all know, it's now 2017, and unicorns have slowly died out. We thought they were all gone, but there are sightings, and rumors of a secret society that harbors and even breeds unicorns."

"Where are you going with this, Clear?" Clever asked.

"I'm thinking that our culprit here was much more than a poor pony trying to get some extra dollars," Clear explained, "I think our first unsub is a unicorn making 'relations' with some higher-ups by committing an untraceable murder, but there's a flaw with that plan. The history of forensics provides a way to detect magic residue on objects. With todays tech, we can match that to DNA. So I think we need to look back at some old files and do some old-fashioned investigations."

"So you're saying we're dealing with some secret society now?" Clever asked, "That seems a bit far fetched."

"I hear about them all the time where I come from," Fiddle said, before realizing all of the attention was on him. He paused for a moment, a bit startled by everyones eyes piercing through him. "What?"

"Keep talkin'," Clever replied, "you might have some important information." Fiddle felt a little pride from hearing that, but wasn't sure what to say, so, he continued telling what he knew as far as he knew it.

"Well," he started, "by hearsay, there was a lot going around about unicorns rising up again, lots of drama about some war to bring back the ancient magic of friendship and yada yada yada. Sounds crazy to me, but if it's a possibility, it's a possibility." The other CSI started at him, then looked back at Clear, who was looking at the ceiling.

"They're not bringing back friendship in this world," she muttered, before looking back down. "This crime could evolve to a much more destructive and terrorist event if we don't solve it quick. Cuffs, I want you to keep all squads on alert for unicorn sightings. Clever and Siyde, I want you to investigate any areas for sightings of unicorns. Doc, I want you to look back at the body and see if you can find aura residue or energy trace on the vic. Sticks, you work with me in the lab, we'll see what we can extract from the trace we can get." The team nodded, all departing to their separate ways. Fiddlestick and Clear remained.

After everyone had exited the room, Clear began to walk toward the exit.

"Hey, Supervisor Clear," Fiddlestick started. Clear paused, looking back at him.

"You can call me Crystal, but just call me Clear when you're around others," she said. Fiddlestick nodded, before continuing.

"Do you think that, if they exist, maybe they're trying to do something right, but in the wrong way?" Fiddlestick asked, staring at the blank whiteboard. Clear had no response at first. "The unicorn group, I mean. Bringing back the magic of friendship?" Clear slowly walked back to the table, pulling up a chair beside Fiddle. Fiddle directed his attention to her as she sat down, curious as to what she would say.

"We abandoned general magic centuries ago," Crystal started, "we abandoned the magic of friendship decades ago."

"What do you mean?" Fiddle asked.

"Why do you think we do what we do?" Crystal replied, "why do you think we even exist? Millennia back, justice was on the backs of goddesses, namely Princess Celestia and Princess Luna. After they died, several alicorns took charge, their leader being Princess Twilight Sparkle, the sole holder of the elements of harmony. When she died, there was nopony left to take them, and they were buried away and forgotten forever, or so they say. Since then, the world has been in a downfall with crime and chaos, to where the earthen ponies had to take order. As this happened, magic became a less frequent thing, especially after several wars when the unicorns were sent out primarily due to their advantage of range and shielding. The earth ponies were always insignificant, until the world adapted to a mortal-ran society. There are no gods or goddesses protecting us now, no magic, no friendship. Just hatred and cruelty. Our job is to rise out of that rottenness and speak for the dead, putting away the criminals in the name of justice. As for this group, if they are right, they are right, and I hope they win — but as for me, I have a job and a duty to preserve the safety of my people, the equines, and I will apprehend them with all of my ability."

"What if we could go back? To friendship?" Fiddle asked. Crystal just looked down, shaking her head, before exiting the room.

"I wish it were that easy."

Brite Siyde and Blue Clever exited their vehicle. They were equipped with flashlights, cuffs, weapons, and several tools for investigation. The area was a very, very cliche abandoned warehouse in the middle of an unbusy street. Surrounded in battered and unused buildings, this one seemed out of place as it was more structurally sound. Brite and Clever exchanged looks before equipping their flashlights and walking into the building. The doors were heavy, squeaky, and filled with rust. They shined flashlights around the warehouse, it seemed to have several other compartments, and one other large room with a single entry.

"I'll take the left, you take the right," Clever suggested, "then we'll take a look at that one." He pointed the flashlight to the large door in the middle. Brite nodded, trotting towards the right side. Clever slowly walked towards the left side, before feeling a sharp pain in his hoof.

"D'ow..." he suddenly muttered before picking up his hoof. It didn't draw any blood, but he noticed a strange object. He slipped on a glove, putting it in an evidence bag, then in his pocket. He continued walking, then opened the door, revealing an empty, but messy room. He caught a wiff of rot, before noticing the dead corpses of a few birds and small cats in the corner.

"Hey, Siyde, I gotta 187, birds and cats!" Clever shouted with a smile, joking. His smile faded at the response; Siyde was already at the door.

"187," she said, "ten bodies."

Clever quickly accompanied her going back to the room, while turning on his radio to speak.

"This is CSI Blue Clever, we need assistance in the Southern Quadrant of Canterlot, abandoned warehouse on Civilian Highway 33. We've got ten dead bodies, and suspicious activity; possibly more of both, over," Clever said. After some garble, a voice in the radio responded.

"10-4, sending backup to your location, over."

Siyde opened the door, revealing 10 lined up bodies, hung on the wall like sacrifices, cut open very specifically. Tools were left on a surgical table, several advanced instruments.

"Those instruments," Siyde pointed out, "you could only find those from twenty-four specific Canterlot Advanced Surgical Centers."

"Or the black market," Clever countered, looking at them closely.

"Well, going on the assumption of a conspiracy..."

"Yeah, I'm not so sure about that. I can't rule it out, but I can't believe it."

"So what else do you think it could be?"

"Gang activity maybe?"

"I've never heard of a gang that performs ritual sacrifices, but I've heard a lot about unicorn savages running around doing. Just silly myths, though. Fillyhood horror stories."

Clever looked up at the bodies again, then to Siyde.

"Maybe they aren't stories after all."