Or the Detective and the Time Lord
Manehatten: 1004 ANM:
“There’s… There’s got to be a link, got to be a link somehow!” A pony nervously muttered to himself as he paced back and forth the floors of his apartment. The wooden floors creaked and groaned with age under every hoofstep. The pony in question, named Question Mark, was about fifty or so, brown in fur color with greying hair and stubble on his face. He’d long been dismissed as a kook, crackpot, or nut-job; it all depended on which phrase you prefer to throw at him.
Not that he cared, of course. He knew what he’d stumbled upon was big, very big indeed. He’d dare say that this might just shake up the foundations of the upper levels of Royal Guard if this information got out to the public. Trouble was, his reputation was less than stirling thanks to his possible madness, not helped by the fact that he’d been seen in local bars all across the city.
Once, many moons ago, Question Mark was a renowned PI, often helping the police with cases they couldn’t solve. Of course, in his now drunk and paranoid mind, that meant pretty much every case, even the simplest of ones that could easily be classified as open and shut.
He didn’t care that the task force, or anypony in the city, took him seriously anymore. He wanted to solve just one last case, right before he went. You see, his liver was failing and he knew it, but that wouldn’t stop him. Solving these kidnappings dating back since 989 ANM would give him back his reputation. Plus, it would give the families that had lost loved ones some closure at last.
Question Mark took a swig from his hip flask, which was engraved with the Latin saying ‘Imple sollicite qui te habeat fiduciam.’
“One more drink couldn’t hurt, could it? After all, it’s not like I’m going to die already from this is it?” He mused sarcastically before he switched the radio on, smooth jazz music not unlike something you’d hear out of a speakeasy of olden times began to play from it. He smiled as the music soothed his weary ears. He’d already written out his will, and although he did not have much to bequeath, he did have one simple request for his funeral which was to play this song.
Question turned his musings back to the case at hand. Before him, on a billboard held up with pins of various colors and connected with strings, were pictures and news reports about various missing ponies. Right in the center of it all was a newsreport dating a few years back on the First Lieutenant of the Royal Guard, Bradwr Boltstrike, calling for more soldiers to defend the regions of Equestria from the Caribou Empire’s enclosing reach on the borders of the Royal Sister’s kingdom. However, both Princess Celestia and the Captain at the time had shot this proposal down, saying that Equestria had more than enough soldiers to defend it’s borders, and that there was no reason to fear the Caribou Kingdom at this time. Actually, she and Lord Tall Antlers were very good friends from what Question had heard from a old contact in the Royal Guard, a fellow PI like himself who at the time worked internal affairs.
Question knew this statement and the kidnapping of ponies had to be connected. “After all, if you couldn’t get official permission…” He thought. All in all, this billboard along with everything on it added along with his general paranoia gave everypony the impression of a conspiracy theorist.
Question didn’t care about that.
Question didn’t care about anything anymore.
All he wanted was to stop this evil before it started and solve this case.
“Now…you, Red Lightning, you were the first to vanish.” Question muttered to himself, “but, next month… a pony by the name of Black Lance goes missing. No relations to speak of. They weren’t family, nor were they dating. There’s…there’s just got to be something I’m missing!”
Question scoured the papers laying around on his desk, each with information on the various ponies that had gone missing over the years. He stared at their information for hours, things becoming a blur as the night wore on. He became dizzy, and yawned once more. He needed rest and he knew it; but this case was far more important than his own health. He snarled in frustration and sighed.
“I need some fresh air. Always helped me get a new perspective on things, when I’m not focused on the case. Answers always come then.” He mused to himself and opened up the sliding door to his balcony and let the fresh Manehatten breeze flow through his dark brown fur and smiled before taking another swig from his flask.
Unknown to him, he was being watched. From a long abandoned apartment directly across from his own, a few floors higher, was a pony clad all in dark clothing. He opened up a case beginning to assemble what was inside, setting up its stand and lining up his shot, Question Mark’s right eye. After adjusting for the wind speed and taking the cold from the sea breeze into effect, he took a deep breath, steadying his heart rate. After five beats of his slowed heart, he pulled the trigger. The sound of a sharp chirp could be heard from the shooter’s surrounding, and Question fell and tumbled backwards onto the balcony, gravity rushing up to greet him as blood spattered the window of his glass screen door.
The unknown assassin smirked. His deed was done. Now for the second portion of the job to be over and done with.
“Sir, this is Agent Alpha. The Target has been eliminated. Permission for the clean-up crew to do their part?” The unknown pony, Alpha, asked into a headset.
“Permission granted. Agent Delta, move in.” Outside in the hallway that lead to the late Question Mark’s apartment, there lay another pony in dark attire covered from head to hoof, Agent Delta. Delta popped open the door in and began pouring alcohol all over the floor, the walls, the billboard, and the table. With a few quick motions, he struck a match against his clothing and lit it before tossing it onto the floor and running just as the room and its contents were consumed in flame.
“Commander, this is Agent Delta. All evidence has been eliminated. Repeat, all evidence is eliminated,” Delta said into his headset as soon as he reached Alpha’s position.
In a unknown location, a dark blue furred pony smirked. “Good, now that old drunk has been eliminated, all the chains of evidence linking me to this has been dealt with...well, almost. You know what to do.”
Both ponies nodded and took out a pill each, popping it in their mouth and crushed it beneath their teeth. Soon, they lay on the floor their mouths frothing with foam.
“Good, now nothing can stop me now. Time to get to work. There’s still lots to be done yet.” The Commander thought to himself with a smirk and turned on a radio and let the sound of Hooftooven's Fifth Symphony sooth his ears…
The Eleventh Doctor sighed to himself. Above him, three silver cylinders covered in Gallfreyian Runes ticked and turned away as all around him, shelves of books scattered across the main control room’s walls. Directly behind the Doctor, a portrait of a very dear friend of his, a purple unicorn mare, the portrait framed in gold trimming, seemed to smile at him. The Doctor never dared to look directly at it, at her, since she certainly never smiled at him now. Just looking at it caused him to feel that old familiar pain of not being there in time to help her when she needed it most. Even though he tried to fight it off, the phantom pain of a memory surfaced.
“Twilight...for the record…” the Doctor began slowly, tears trickling out of his green eyes. “I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I should have been there.”
At this, Twilight's emotions finally boiled over and she began to shout and scream at him, magical energy flying everywhere as books lifted themselves off the shelves and flew every which way. The floor began to crack under the sheer magical output Twilight was throwing out.
"THAT'S DAMN WELL RIGHT! YOU SHOULD HAVE BEEN THERE DOCTOR, IF YOU EVEN DESERVE THE TITLE!" Twilight roared, her voice output reaching the Royal Canterlot Voice levels of volume. "I TRUSTED YOU, AND YOU TOOK THAT TRUST AND THREW IT AWAY LIKE AN OLD STUFFED TOY! SPIKE WAS MY SON AND YOU LET HIM DIE ALL BECAUSE OF SOME DAMNED DEMONS, WHO COULD HAVE BEEN DEALT WITH AT ANY TIME YOU VERY WELL LIKED!"
“The Doctor,” Twilight snarled bitterly, “the stallion who makes ponies better. That was your promise wasn't it? Well, you've certainly done a good job in upholding THAT.”
The Doctor sighed and took out a flask and drank it dry. The TARDIS made a soft humming sound, almost as if it were disappointed at how far he’d fallen.
“Yes…yes, Old Girl,” The Doctor muttered. “I know how it is. But honestly, I think we all reach a point in our own lives where we question what we were made for. Me…all I end up leaving is destruction and ashes in my wake, so I think I’m allowed a drink or two once in a while don’t you think? Time…time rots everything, including me.”
The TARDIS, all on it’s own, displayed an image of a pony in a gray trilby investigating a dead body with a bullet hole in its head with a magnifying glass in hoof and muttering to himself. The Doctor groaned as he got the message the old girl was trying to send him.
“Alright… Alright, I suppose you do have a point. Time to lend a hoof one last time, eh?” The Doctor muttered before throwing a switch…
Manehatten: 1004, One Day Before Question Mark’s murder...
Two ponies stood over a body lying in one of the many alleyways that were scattered throughout the constantly bustling city of Manehatten, the blue hued light of a police carriage illuminating the dark alley. The first pony was a simple police officer, no different than any other beat cop you might find in this city.
The second was a different story entirely. His name was Phillip Finder, a well renowned PI and a former investigator for the Royal Guard. Quite recently, he had solved a case in the small town of Ponyville, involving the pony Derpy Hooves and her kidnapped husband Time Turner, which had led him to the long abandoned Cloudsdale Rainbow Factory and a band of changelings. Now, he’d been summoned to Manehattan by his old friend Question Mark to help with a series of mysterious kidnappings, only to find that his comrade was missing as well, and there was a dead body that called for closer investigation.
“What happened? I’d say he jumped out of a window considering bankers do that all the time every time share prices drop, but this isn’t Wall Street,” the cop joked with a dark chuckle.
Philip gave him a look and the cop shut up at once.
The body was the late Bag-of-Bits, a banker of about middle age. He lay on the ground, ripped and torn to shreds. Two coroners walked up and began shaking their heads sadly. They loaded the body into the back of an ambulance before hauling it off. Philip noted the presence of a puddle of oil on the ground. He pulled out a small jar and carefully scooped some of the oil into it before giving it a sniff.
“Curious…” Phil muttered to himself. It smelt like machinery, the kind you’d use to power a steam powered device. “But why would a banker be near such a thing?”
“And then there’s the other things about this mess… Celestia above, I said I wanted an interesting case before things got too boring but this isn’t what I meant at all.”
A few hours later, Philip stood over the body lying on a cold piece of metal in a Manehatten morgue. The body had been heavily torn up and cut to ribbons, almost in an animalistic fashion. But that wasn’t the really strange part; the pony in question had been bruised heavily in an unknown manner as well, and as far as Philip knew, no known animal on record could do that.
“Well, I suppose if you count us ponies as animals you might be able to argue that. And we are animals technically so these bruises mostly likely came from a pony,” Phil mused to himself. He adjusted his signature gray trilby. “Course, if you really want to be speculative about this, you could say a Yowie did this. But anypony who believes in that old myth really should have a blow in the bag in most ponies minds as there is no proof that the creature exists. The only reason why it’s such a popular piece of speculation is because of that roll of film taken a while back. Personally, I don’t believe it’s real. That creature looked too much like somepony in a customized gorilla suit.” Phil grunted to himself and inspected the body with his magnifying glass before he turned to a redheaded female in a lab coat.
“Cold, how long did this body take to get processed?” he asked.
“About, oh, five or six hours after you found him. It took quite a while before anyone could process this one. There’s been a lot of bodies dropping lately. You wouldn’t imagine the paperwork we have go through…” she said before trailing off letting Phil give her a curious look.
“What, what is it?” Phil asked impatiently.
“It’s just…odd. Some vanish, seemingly before they ever reach us. It’s been running everypony ragged.”
Philip hesitated for a moment.
“Was Question Mark amongst those bodies?” he asked, not sure if he wanted to know the answer.
“No, not that I know of,” Doctor Cold Slab replied as Phil went back to checking over the body and muttering to himself.
“Phil, let it never be said I understand you. Sure, you’re a good PI, but anypony ever tell you that your investigative methods are sometimes a bit off?” Cold remarked dryly.
“Never failed me yet,” Phil remarked. While it was true the claw marks were probably more important, every little bit helped in any case.
“Hmm… something with claws, yes. That much is obvious. A blind pony could see that. But why the bruises as well? It makes no sense unless... ” Phil mused to himself, filing away a thought for later. “The attackers are getting smarter, or at least more violent in their work.”
“Obviously,” Cold Slab deadpanned before a thought struck her. “How do you know it wasn’t a bear or a lion that escaped from the Manehatten Zoo? I did hear a news report a few days back about that happening.”
“It’s a possibility I haven’t put out of my mind yet,” Phil commented. “But it’s low on the list. I just can’t see a lion punching somepony out. They’re more likely to rip their victims limb from limb. Besides, I think anypony would have noticed something like that prowling around a big city.”
“Point,” Cold said. “Phil, not to be rude or anything…but this attitude of yours, it’s like you’re treating the victim as a thing, not he was like like he was actual living pony. Remember, he did have a family at one point and right now they’ve just gotten the news that their only son is dead.”
Phil had the decency to look somewhat ashamed of himself before he stiffened up. He couldn’t care about emotions right now. Emotions interfered with the job at hoof. They made you care and worry about who you were supposed to be helping, and led to slip-ups.
“I’ve had that happen to me once before. I’m not repeating it,” Phil thought sadly. “Ponies get hurt when they’re around me. Twilight…honestly I don’t know why I’m beginning to care for her and her friends. I suppose it’s just because they’re…likeable in their own ways, odd as they are.”
At that moment, both ponies stopped dead in their tracks and their ears twitched when they heard something crawling through the vents above them, the metal thudding with every hoofstep. Phil grunted to himself and reached into the pocket of his green fishing vest, pulling out an extendable baton and flicking it open.
Suddenly, the lights went off and something opened with a creak. Cold’s voice came out in a scream before it was quickly silenced with a gurgling sound. A moment later, the lights turned on, revealing Cold Slab’s body lying on the floor, throat sliced wide open. Blood was pooling onto the floor. There was a flicker of movement above as something leapt right back up into the open vent faster than the eye could see.
Phil snarled and his eyes narrowed. He ran out of the morgue’s door and kept his ear trained to the vents, every so often making a turn down a corridor to keep pace with the hoofsteps. His ears were trained to the sounds, following their every move. Right now, they were heading upwards. He ran up a set of stairs, whirled around a corner and then up another flight till eventually he was on the roof, steam hissing out of vents and air conditioners. The sprawl of the Big Apple lay beneath him, but despite all the shouting of ponies and rushing of carriage traffic coming from below, he still kept his ears trained to the sound. And then, from out of a vent burst a creature.
It had a gold face mask obscuring its facial features, and wore a tattered black fur cloak all over its body. Oddly, Phil noted the sound of a ticking clock but there was no obvious place for it to be coming from. The creature let out a low growl and ran towards him but Phil rolled out of the way as it took a swipe at him with a metal claw.
“What the hell is this thing?” Phil pondered as the creature rushed towards him again and slashed at his face. Phil grabbed the foreleg rapidly closing in on him and gave it a twist flipping the creature onto its back. The creature recovered instantly and flipped back on its hooves. It lunged and took a slash at Phil again but Phil countered the attack with his baton before whirling around and bucking the creature across to another rooftop with his powerful hind legs. The creature recovered once again and started to take a run for it.
“Oh no you don’t,” Phil said and took a running leap across to the other rooftop. He reached out and grabbed a fire escape, pulled himself up onto it and began climbing up the stairwells and onto the rooftop. However, by the time he got up to the roof, he could only witness the creature leap off the rooftop and jump to the streets below. Phil rushed to the roof’s edge, and saw the creature disappear into the shadows of an alleyway.
“Damn!” Phil swore.
Later that night… Philip Finder’s Hotel Room:
The soft sound of jazz played through a radio on Philip’s nightstand, his hat and coat hung up on a nearby coat rack. The sun set behind him over the Manehatten skyline, casting an orange and red glow through the balcony window as a cool breeze blew through softly ruffling the curtains.
Phil himself pondered over the creature he had encountered only hours before. He had watched its every move, it’s every attack and analyzed its behavior. It couldn’t have been a pony, not with the way it moved. It was far too fast, far too quick on its reflexes to have been anything but an animal. Oddly, it had hooves on its hind legs, but yet had claws on its forelegs. It was like somepony had took a mish-mash of creatures, put them through a blender and see what came out of it as a result. And then there was that strange clock ticking sound, coming from an area where a clock had no right to be. Phil growled to himself as he slammed a hoof up against a wall in frustration. He didn’t like not knowing things.
With a sad look on his face, he reached into his vest’s pocket and pulled out a photo of a mare with a light gold coat and a mane of mixed grey colors.
“You’d solve this in an instance, wouldn’t you Daring?” Phil thought to himself. “Bloody Hell, you’d take down that creature and you wouldn’t have let it get away wouldn’t you?”
Phil scoffed. That was a long time ago, he didn’t need her help to solve this. Besides, Daring had made it very clear long ago that she worked best alone, and that they could be co-workers, nothing but.
“This isn't working, is it?”
”This…you and I...us.”
“We travel around Equestria, find ancient treasures, solve crimes, catch criminals...what's not working?”
“Never mind.”
“What? What is it? I don't understand.”
“Of course you don't.”
Phil shook his head to clear himself of the memories. They were just that, memories of an old life. Something that he could never have back.
“Oh please Phil,” a voice that sounded exactly like Daring teased him. “You’re attracted to me, and you know it. Might want to maintain that professional relationship, but let’s be honest with yourself. You love me deep down, despite all of your denials.”
“Shut up!” Phil mentally argued back. “You’re not her!”
“Am I?” the voice mentally asked, still in that teasing tone. “That’s the mystery you’d have to figure out for yourself. No helpers this time for this case, sorry to say.”
Phil sighed to himself as he fell back on the bed, exhausted from the day’s events and eyelids growing heavy. He let them shut by themselves and allowed the soft sound of the saxophones carry him off to sleep...
A few hours later, Phil’s eyes shot open, his ears detecting the blaring of sirens and the crackle of embers burning. He shot straight up like a rocket in his bed and leaped out, grabbing his hat and vest and rushing out to the balcony to see smoke and flames rising from a part of the Manehatten skyline. His encounter today with the mystery beast, a building in the city now set alight. They all had to be connected. A lesser pony might have brushed them off as just coincidences, but Phil had long ago learned there was no such thing.
“I’m getting old…” Phil muttered to himself before he began running down the stairwells, his mind now solely focused on the burning apartment block. Phil’s Crime Sense was getting the feeling there was something larger at work here and he’d have to get on the case.
Elsewhere, in a back alleyway there was a wheezing groaning sound and a blue box materialized out of thin air, before with a creak its wooden doors opened and out stepped a grey furred stallion. The Doctor smiled before thinking to himself as he breathed in the city’s air one single word.
“Geronimo.”
The Doctor slowly trotted forwards through the streets. The Old Girl wanted him in this specific alternate timeline for a reason, and if there was one thing he had learned throughout his over 900 years of living, it was that if you were wanted somewhere it was best you went there. The Doctor smiled; he always loved coming to Manehatten, even if his first experience wasn’t so great. Long story short, Filthy Rich, the head of Rich Enterprises, had transformed his daughter into a Cyberpony. Mind you, it wasn’t without good intentions, as his daughter had come down with cancer and by the time he and the doctors had spotted it there was only one option left for him besides watching his only child die a slow and painful death.
“I wonder, if I was in his position, would I have done the same? If there was a way to save any of my family from Gallifrey’s destruction… My wife, my children and my granddaughter Susan, would I have taken that chance no matter the price?” The Doctor wondered to himself. It wasn’t the first time he’d pondered over this question, and he knew it wouldn’t be the last.
“Get ahold of yourself Doctor, there was no way you could have saved them from the Moment. Honestly, what you did was a mercy.”
“I… I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I was glad the Rani and the Master escaped when they did. Even if they were mad, they didn’t deserve to see what Gallifrey had become… Or what I had become.”
He thought back to those very words that changed his life forever when he went to the Sisterhood of Karn.
"Physician, heal thyself.”
And then they came, a severing of his old ties.
“Doctor no more.”
Yes, that was the words he said when he discarded his name, as he knew he would have to break the Promise if he was to go to war. The Doctor sighed to himself as he shook his head to clear himself of those memories. That was a long time ago. Right now, he had to focus on the present. There was somepony who needed his help. That was his Promise, to help people. To give aid wherever it was needed. That was why he took the name of the Doctor. With a smile, he adjusted his bow-tie.
Elsewhere in Manehatten, with Philip Finder:
Philip ran, the sounds of burning wood and brick filling his ears. He clambered over a trash dumpster, jumped over a chainlink fence and rolled as he hit the ground. He sprinted through several alleyways to get to the scene as fast as he could, even as sirens blared in the city. His thoughts ran faster than his legs.
“Okay, first I was attacked by that mechanical creature and now this. Perhaps maybe I am being paranoid and these are just two random events, not connected in any way.” Phil thought to himself.
Elsewhere in the city, the Doctor could see the flames rising high into the night. He sighed.
“Celestia above, I do hope I don’t have to be bloody stupid enough to actually run into that blaze. I mean, even I have my limits on what I’m willing to do, and walking into a towering inferno is one of them.” Eleven thought to himself before his past body’s voice chuckled in his head.
“And standing on a planet that’s filled with possessed Ood and has a cage for the Devil himself doesn’t count as crazy? I remember that.” Ten’s voice resounded in his head.
“T-That was different!” Eleven snapped back. “I landed on that planet and really didn’t have any way out of that situation!”
“Really?" Nine commented, joining in on the mental argument. “You and Rose could have left those scientists high and dry. Funny, you chose to stay there on that planet, even if you knew at any time it could fall into that black hole looming above you at all times.”
“I was fascinated.” Eleven said simply. “That type of situation simply shouldn’t have existed by any means of science! It laughed in science’s face, no actually it mooned it butt-naked!”
“Funny, that’s not how I remember things. We do seem to have a saving people syndrome don’t we?” Ten commented.
Nine nodded in agreement. “Fantastic, isn’t it? We are possibly the most idiotic band of Time Lords in all of creation.”
“Oh, shuuuuttt up.” Eleven whined while Ten and Nine simply laughed their heads off.
Phil had reached the sight of the burning building. Fire-ponies had hooked their hoses up to the pumper chariots and were working as hard as they could to put out the burning blaze, but that wasn’t what caught Phil’s attention the most. No, it was the dead body. He knew exactly who it was just by the facial structure alone. He didn’t even need to see the rest of him.
“Square jaw, signs of heavy alcohol consumption, that right scar on his face when he got knifed a while back.” Phil sighed to himself as he put his trilby to his chest in memorial for his fallen friend. “Rest easy now mate. I will find whoever did this.”
Phil ran towards the coroners who were zipping up Question Mark’s body. “Wait, I know that stallion! Hold up there!” he called.
Both ponies shared a look and stepped back. Even they had heard of Philip’s reputation after he sent the infamous gang boss Monopoly to prison. After all, when you help out two of the Elements of Harmony, nation-wide heroes, fame was an inevitability. It couldn’t be avoided.
“Thank the Creator…” One of the two coroners sighed as Phil trotted up, trilby back on his head. “We figured this case was one of those that would go cold, if you’ll excuse the terrible joke—”
“Yes, it is quite terrible,” Phil snapped, in no mood right now for dark jokes about other ponies. Especially when one of those ponies in question was an old friend of his. “Now, what happened to you, Q?” he muttered. “Fire didn’t get you obviously, any blind drongo could see that.”
He ran his magnifying glass over the body till he stopped when he reached the head. It would have been an instant kill. Least this death was quick. That was a small mercy in any form.
“Okay, judging by the type of bullet entry, this was a sniper shot. Taken at long range. It went clean through and through. Trouble is, without the bullet, I can’t tell where the shot would have come from or where Q might have been standing.” Phil thought to himself before Daring’s voice piped up.
“Oh come on Phil, you’re missing the obvious. This isn’t like you. You’ve got to cast your emotions aside here, think logically!” Daring’s voice reprimanded.
“Shut up!” Phil argued. “I don’t need your help on this case! I can do it on my own!”
“Can you? You’re letting your emotions cloud your judgement. If this was any random killing, not somepony you knew, you’d have this case solved in a flash,” Daring remarked. “Now, here’s a piece of advice… Look up!”
Philip, slapping himself on the face for his own stupidity, looked up. Mental-Daring was right, he was letting his emotions cloud his judgement. He was missing an obvious clue! Looking directly upwards and taking a few steps back to get a better view, he saw the balcony where Question had tumbled from.
“As soon as that fire’s out, I’m getting up there.” Phil thought, never noticing a small red dot of light sliding up his neck and alighting upon the back of his head.
But somepony else did. Suddenly, Phil found himself shoved to the side just as a bullet impacted the wall in front of him. Ponies fled for cover, screaming. The police officers dropped to the ground and pulled out their own guns, searching the skylines for where the shot had come from while Phil looked at his savior.
The stallion in front of him had an almost ash grey coat, green eyes and very messy hair. It was so messy in fact, that if not for the obvious muscle on him, you would mistake this stallion for a mare. But the eyes were what drew Philip’s curiosity the most. They looked so young. The odd thing was however, they looked like they belonged on a stallion who had been through Hell and back and survived to tell the tale.
“And you are?” Philip asked, not one to trust easily. He especially wasn't going to just trust some random stallion, even if he had just saved his life!
“You really do like playing the hero, don't you?” Nine mentally deadpanned.
Inside his Mind TARDIS, Eleven gave his counterpart a look. “What, and let him get shot? I'm the Doctor for crying out loud!"
He had said this aloud by mistake, making everypony turn their heads to face him.
“First doctor I know of who puts himself in the line of fire.” Philip deadpanned.
“Well saving lives is kinda in the title isn’t it?” the Doctor snarked back in response before he began to ramble as ever. “...Besides, in the Sontaran race being a physician is a punishment for the troops. You’re supposed to die in combat, and medicine is considered a sort of taboo. Met a Sontaran with that punishment attached to him. Think he might have taken a little too many knocks to the head though. Bit of an idiot really.”
“Okay, either he’s the most brilliant genius I’ve ever met or he’s insane. Probably the latter,” Phil thought to himself as he pulled the bullet out of the wall with a pair of tweezers and inspected it closely. “Okay, this looks like a .50 BMG if I had to guess. Been modified for sniper purposes, but it’s still a very common piece of ammunition. That lead’s probably a dead end for right now.”
Philip hoofed over the bullet to the police who quickly put it in an evidence bag.
“Get this inspected. I want to know who bought any of this type of round recently, and if they’re in Manehatten,” Philip asked.
“Yes, Mr. Finder!” the officer saluted before running off.
“So, Finder is your name,” the Doctor interrupted, cocking his head to the side.
“You’re not from around here, are you?” Phil asked.
“Well, you could say that,” the Doctor remarked as his past selves sniggered at the very vague but still true answer. “What was your first clue?”
“Your accent for one thing. Trottingham.” Phil deadpanned before he got serious. “Plus, your eyes. They’re far too old for somepony who looks to be your age. You’ve seen war, and nightmares beyond anypony’s comprehension.”
“Believe me,” the Doctor began in a weary tone of voice, one laced with sadness. “I can comprehend quite a lot of things. You probably could as well, when you get to be my age, and see what I’ve seen.”
“Wasn’t done,” Phil continued. “Your manestyle. The uneven cuts tell me that you used to keep it combed, but you’ve let yourself go. Something bad happened to you.” Phil had to fight down a smirk when he saw a flicker of shock pass through the stranger’s eyes. “You lost somepony very close to you, somepony that gave you a special watch; I can see the outline of it on your wrist there. Wide band, thin. Expensive watch. When you lost them, you stopped wearing the watch. That makes me think it was a close friend. I’d say a lover, but I think you’re not interested in romance, since you need somepony who can keep up with you on a level of both intellect and wisdom.”
“Now what makes you say that?” The Doctor chortled. Nopony in all of his over 900 years of living had ever figured him out completely. “Well, there was one pony who always could. It’s a shame I had to leave her behind,” The Doctor mentally added.
“It’s the way you speak; talking about a race that nopony here has heard about like it’s the most obvious thing in the world,” Phil snorted.
The Doctor huffed. Arrogant? Him?
“Of all the nerve…” The Doctor mused before he spoke again with a noticeable trace of amusement in his voice. “What, is the next thing you’re going to tell me is that I’m an extraequestrian?” He laughed before his tone turned to steel. “I don’t know who you are, but let’s get one thing clear. You don’t have the skills to figure me out completely. There’s only one pony on Equus who can do that, and she’s not here.”
“Try me,” Phil countered as the police watched the ensuing argument like a tennis match. “Who the hell do you think you are anyways?”
“I’m the Doctor, that’s all you need to know,” the Last of the Time Lords remarked.
“Doctor Who?” Philip inquired and the Doctor chuckled.
“Now that… is the big mystery isn’t it?” he commented. “Now, as hard as it is to believe, you need my help. After all, great big detective, and yet you couldn’t “Detect” something as simple as a sniper about to blow your own bloody head clean off!”
“If you hadn’t noticed,” Phil growled, beginning to get angry with this “Doctor’s” attitude, “I was busy trying to figure out who killed an old friend of mine. Earlier this week, he sent me a message saying that he needed help and that he thought he was in danger.”
Phil then looked up to what was left of Question Mark’s apartment. “Guess he was right. He was onto something big; he couldn’t tell me over the phone and was terrified. That’s how I knew something was off from the start. I came here as quick as I could.”
“Well, I might be able to help,” The Doctor remarked.
Philip was about to brush him off as this was a personal case before Daring spoke up again. “He’s right. Whoever he is, you’re going to need all the help you can get with this case and you know it. You don’t have a single clue as to who’s behind the kidnappings, and then there’s the mystery creature. You know it’s not a pony, but you don’t know what it is.”
“Yet,” Phil argued.
“You said that this stallion was a genius, even if he is a bit arrogant. Besides, I think you would be perfect partners. You lost me, and from the looks of things, he lost somepony close to him as well. Being around him might make both of you more cheery and if you’re around him more, you might be able to figure him out. You never were able to resist a good mystery, after all,” Daring pointed out, the smirk audible in her tone.
Philip sighed to himself. She was right. She was always right.
The Doctor smirked. “Now come along, Finder.”
With that, he led Phillip to the TARDIS. Philip scoffed.
“Really?” he asked. “A police box?”
Phil then inspected the phone and when he picked it up and put it to his ear, all he got was an out of service signal.
“It’s not even connected…” Phil muttered to himself but the Doctor heard him.
“Doesn’t need to be.” He said as he opened the doors with an audible creaking of wood. Phil’s eyes widened as he stepped inside.
“Go on, say it. I know you want to, they always do,” the Doctor commented gleefully as he began pulling random switches seemingly in no order and pressing various buttons as the three cylinders began to turn.
“It’s magic,” Phil grunted.
All of the previous Doctors burst out laughing at their current self as he grumbled “...I was expecting more of a shock. Like maybe him stepping back out and looking all around, and then stepping back in and still not fully comprehending it.”
Phillip’s eyes went to a portrait of Twilight Sparkle on the wall. As the Doctor passed it, he noticed that his strange partner deliberately averted his eyes.
“How do you know Twilight?” he asked.
The Doctor pretended not to hear him. “Anyways, you know that Extraequestrian thing?” the Doctor asked as the TARDIS began to wheeze and groan. “I lied. You got me, I’m an alien.”
“Impossible, aliens don’t exist,” Phil remarked as he looked at one of the books on the many bookshelves and picked one out titled “The Final Problem.”
“Impossible is just a word. Ponies keep throwing that around, but in my mind... “ The Doctor said. “Nothing’s impossible. Well, except Robin Hood, but there are always exceptions to every rule.”
Finally, the wheezing and groaning stopped and the Doctor smiled.
“We’re here,” he said.
Phil gave him a questioning look. “Where’s here? We can’t have moved.”
The Doctor smirked as he opened the door.
“Want to place bets on that?” he asked.
Philip groaned as he staggered to his hooves, having picked himself up off the floor.
“I fail to see how this is an efficient way of travel,” He grunted out, having to hold back his gag reflex. “Seems to me, if you wanted to travel in time, you might as well rework a chariot to go 88 miles per hour.”
“Oi!” The Doctor shouted in offence. “No mocking of the TARDIS, and especially no comparing it to that poor excuse for a vehicle! She hates that.”
The Doctor then began patting the TARDIS’s console and whispering “There there, Old Girl. He didn’t mean to compare you to that… thing.”
“She?” Phillip remarked, eyebrow raised. He knew some stallions like to personify their vehicles and even in some cases give them names like Vera and such, but this was going a bit far in his mind.
“Yes, she. The Old Girl… She’s a living thing. She learns, and grows just like you or me.” The Doctor explained.
“What, does she just pop out of the ground and then grow into a Trottingham Pony Public Call Box?” Philip snarked.
“Well, he’s not wrong… The crystals required to grow one do pop up out of the ground. Not that I’m going to let him know that, the smug, and quite rude at that, little stallion. He fancies himself a Sherlock Holmes eh? Well, time for him to see the real article, in a sense.” The Doctor mused and huffed to himself as he went down to one of the lower levels, his hoof steps clopping against the metal flooring. The Doctor grunted as he grabbed a chest with his mouth and began pulling it out of a compartment.
“Always wanted an excuse to go through here,” The Doctor remarked cheerfully as he opened up the trunk and coughed several times from the dust released. “Have a costume in here that I’ve been saving for just such an occasion.”
Philip wandered down and saw the strange stallion tossing various items out of the trunk, which in no way should have been able to hold that many items. A red cherry blossom flower adorned kimono landed on his face.
“Oh, Cadance’s been looking for that. Gotta give it back to her at some point,” The Doctor muttered to himself as a reminded as Phil tossed the kimono aside. The Doctor turned to look back at him as he continued his search. For what, Philip couldn’t even begin to guess. “See, me and the Princess of Love when to the Neighponiese countries once. Just for a bit of fun, she needed a vacation from her Royal duties. Saw the sights, went to a few karaoke bars. Turned out, wrong time of year to go though. A giant mutant excuse for a turtle awoke from its thousand year hibernation and we had to sing it to sleep.” The Doctor rambled muttering something about how it wasn’t like it was a big bad end of the world type of deal.
“Yeah, he’s definitely insane.” Phil thought to himself as the Doctor grinned madly and pulled on a deerstalker type hat, pulled out a magnifying glass and put on a really bad imitation of what Philip guessed was the lead character of what he saw in that book. “When you have eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth,” The Doctor quoted. “In this case, that truth being that I, and my TARDIS exist.”
“Evidently,” Phil deadpanned. “It’s also evident that you might be insane.”
“Weellllllll,” The Doctor trailed off, seemingly not offended at all at Philip’s insult. In fact, he almost seemed to take it as a compliment. “Some ponies do call me the Madman in the Box, so who’s to say they’re not entirely lying, eh?”
“You gotta be…” Philip sighed to himself as the Doctor opened the doors to the TARDIS and stepped out into the Manehatten streets and breathed in the air.
“Manehatten. It’s like a great cesspool into which all kinds of criminals, agents and drifters are irresistibly drained.” The Doctor stated, still in that remarkably bad imitation.
“Are you trying to impress me?” Philip asked eyebrow raised once more.
“A bit, yes.” The Doctor admitted, somewhat sheepishly.
“Well, it’s not working,” Phillip deadpanned. “So, if what you say is true and your TARDIS really is a Time Machine, when are we?”
“Oh, you catch on fast!” The Doctor grinned, eyes widening in sheer delight. “We are exactly twenty-four hours, give or take a minute, before your friend in that apartment block was killed in that inferno. Now, whatever clues he stumbled across, we can get a gander at for ourselves.”
As the twosome trotted forwards, Philip heard a little growl and looked towards the rooftop of a nearby building. He saw, for the briefest of moments, a cloaked figure but it dashed off just as soon as it realized it had been seen.
“We’re not alone…” He grunted out. The Doctor didn’t seem to have heard him.
“You say something?” He asked and Philip sighed and muttered: “Never mind…”
“Oh, one thing while we’re out and about. A piece of advice, stick to it, as if you don’t I can’t be held responsible for your own stupidity and the possible end of time and space as we know it,” The Doctor warned. “So… Whatever you do, if you run into your past self and he sees you… Well, let’s not get into that. I’ve already had one companion invite the Reapers to my doorstep and I’d rather really not go through that again. Nasty piece of work, they are.” He muttered to himself.
“Now, tell me about this friend of yours.” The Doctor requested.
“Old stallion who used to work on the beat as a detective, goes by the name of Question Mark though his friends, few as they are, call him Q. Thing was, age and drinking finally caught up with him and they let him go, higher ups thinking he was losing his mind,” Philip explained as the twosome entered the apartment block and headed for their ride upwards, which was a refitted and repurposed freight elevator. The interior of the apartment block entrance matched its age, old, dusty and generally looked as if it had been neglected for decades. Philip sighed sadly as he pressed the button that led to the floor Question Mark resided on. What a way for his old friend to spend the last few years of his life. Living in an old and dirty apartment block, mocked by his peers, and torched to death.
“Was he?” The Doctor asked.
“I can’t really say for sure. Honestly, it’s possible. He was getting up there in years. But when he called me, he seemed really sure of himself. Terrified out of his mind, but sure of himself,” Philip explained before turning to the Doctor. “Why am I telling you all this anyway? I’m not exactly the chattiest pony around, as you may have noticed.”
“Well, I just have one of those faces. Ponies generally do trust me… Most of the time.”
“Most of the time?” Phil asked questioningly. The Doctor laughed nervously.
“...Well, some have been known to point swords at me,” He explained before the elevator dinged and the metal gates opened.
“Oh look, here we are!” He exclaimed, changing the subject. As they walked down the corridor, the Doctor suddenly stopped.
“You’ve just realized you have no idea where to go do you?” Phil snarked.
“...Eh, I sorta do but I’m just taking a breather.” the Doctor replied. Phil raised an eyebrow and the Doctor hung his head.
“Thought so,” Phil smirked. “Room 456. Just down the hall to the left.”
Philip continued to smirk as the Doctor grumbled something along the lines of “...Arrogant Sherlock Holmes rip-off detectives who think they know everything…”
Elsewhere in the city lay Harlem’s Paradise. Possibly the most booming nightclub in Manehatten, this place, while on the outside was seemingly no different than any other of the many clubs that made up Manehatten’s nightlife, hid a secret. That secret was a very simple one, it was often a gathering place for those of the criminal element. It’d been this way for decades, never raided due to the proprietor's amazing tendency to keep his dirty drug money hidden away in various safe-houses across the city. To make matters worse for the blue-blooded officers who kept the city safe, these safe-houses were often picked at random and frequently changed with only their owner knowing where the money was going and when. Recently, however, he had been tasked by a relation of his to use these safe-houses to hide something… More.
“I must say Bradwr, it’s quite the surprise to see you come down from Canterlot. Moreover, I’m surprised you aren’t worried that your boss isn’t questioning your absence.” Boltstrike’s brother-in-law, Elias “Coppermouth” Strike remarked as the two shared a glass of wine in Elias's personal office sitting above the main room of the club itself. Boltstrike chuckled as he looked down at the stage below, lit up in blue and purple lighting as a local band played.
“You needn’t really, I just may have told him this little white lie about me needing to attend a family funeral down here.”
“Not mine, I hope,” Elias joked. “You and I… We’ve never been exactly on friendly terms have we?”
“What’s past is past, we need to focus on the present. The here and now,” Boltstrike remarked as he took a sip from his wine glass. “Sure, never supported your drug dealings but we all have to make our money somehow, and you are doing quite well for yourself, continuing the family legacy and all that. Mother would be proud.”
Boltstrike looked towards a portrait of a mare with slender features, dark fur, and mane and a seemingly constantly upturned snout.
Elias chuckled. “Well, like she always said, “If you want to be the king… Gotta stay on top any way you can”. Even if said ways are quite… Terrible. But the money keeps rolling in, and I can support myself quite well,” He said before smirking. “Of course, you can see that for yourself. Look at what I turned this place into. Before, it was just this little hole in the wall, used by the Mareish Mob, the Griffon Mafia, Al Capony and his lot just to name a few. But now…”
“Yes, you have done quite well. You’re smart in your ways, brother dear, but not that smart.” Boltstrike chuckled darkly.
“How so?” Elias asked, getting the feeling that this meeting was no longer just for pleasure as he reached for a knife in his suit pocket. He was right, as a cloaked figure silently dropped from the ceiling above him. With a sickening SNAP, Elias's neck was twisted to the right.
“You fail to see when it comes time for a King to be dethroned,” Boltstrike remarked, and took another sip of his wine. He chuckled again, seems his dear brother’s predictions about his own funeral proved quite prophetic.
Boltstrike smirked as he looked towards his creature, who nodded and dragged Elias off. After all, Elias still had some use, even in death. One couldn’t let good talent go to waste after all.
“Previous subjects I’ve been nabbing and grabbing underneath anypony’s notice may have proven utterly worthless and complete failures, but who’s to say? Maybe this time, my dearly departed brother may actually prove to be of some worth to this family,” Boltstrike mused before he shrugged. “Then again, maybe not. He’s always been the useless one. He never thought to think big like I am. Honestly, dingy little nightclubs and drugs? Not exactly useful in the grand design, nor do they keep Equestria safe. I aim to change that.”
Boltstrike smirked as he listened to the lyrics in the song that was currently playing.
“Ain’t it a sin indeed,” He thought. “We all have our parts to play little brother in the grand scheme of things, and you’ve played yours. Now, time to play mine. Let’s get to work.”
Then Boltstrike frowned. He remembered Question Mark and the constant inquiries into the various disappearances that had been going on in Manehatten as of late. He would have to be dealt with, and soon. Boltstrike grimaced as he went for a phone. As much as he hated doing this to a fellow peacemaker, some sacrifices would have to be made.
“Just like yours… Brother.”
Question Mark’s Apartment:
Back with the Doctor and Philip, the two had found themselves outside the door to Q’s apartment. The Doctor had taken out his Sonic and was using it to try and pick the lock outside of Question’s door.
“...Wood, why is it always wood?” the Doctor mumbled to himself.
“You know, there is an easier way of doing this,” Philip remarked and the Doctor looked at him, this time he being the one to do the eyebrow raise.
“Oh, what is that pray tell?” the Doctor commented, his voice coming out as almost a sneer. Phil smirked and kicked the door open. The Doctor gaped in shock.
“Oi! I thought PIs were supposed to be stealthy!” the Doctor exclaimed after he’d regained the power of speech.
“Got a time limit here, remember?” Phil grunted as they entered the empty apartment. “The Storm” as he was sometimes known quickly began examining any evidence Question Mark had gathered.
“Seems he was onto something after all. Kidnappings, going back quite a few years now. Started up in Canterlot, now they’re happening here,” Philip explained. “Also, he’s been having a look at this First Lieutenant in the Royal Guard, goes by the name of Boltstrike.”
The Doctor’s eyes widened at that name, though it went unnoticed. Phil then thought of something, a possible way to save Question from his untimely fate.
“Doctor…” He began slowly. “You’re a time traveler right? You can save Question, can’t you?”
The Doctor shook his head.
“Not in this case, no. There are certain points in time that are fixed, and this is one of them. This must happen, this must always happen. I can’t save Question, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” the Doctor replied solemnly.
“And who are you to judge on who lives and who dies?” Phil growled out.
“Fine, you want to know who I am?” the Doctor asked defiantly. "I'm the Doctor. I'm a Time Lord. I am The Oncoming Storm, the Bringer of Darkness. I'm from the planet Gallifrey in the constellation of Kasterborous. I'm nine hundred and ten years old, and I'm the stallion who's gonna help solve this case and that’s that. You got a problem with that? No? GOOD!”
“Now… Let’s get to work.” He stated, in a tone that left no room for argument.
The Doctor and Philip began rushing through the room like a whirlwind, going over everything that Question had accumulated in the past few days. Files, newspaper reports, everything that they thought could be pertinent to the case at hand. Phil went over to Question Mark’s closet, and opened up the doors. Inside, he expected everything to be fairly basic, just a few clothes hare and there hung up on racks, but what he found was far more than that.
“Doctor, over here!” Phil shouted, causing his partner to drop what he was doing, the curiosity of the find showing in his eyes.
“Suitcases? Don’t see why’s that a cause for…” the Doctor trailed off and inspected the name on the suitcases with his magnifying glass. It wasn’t Question Mark’s own that was inscribed on them. “...Alarm.”
“Red Lightning, the first pony to be kidnapped,” Phil explained as the Doctor took out his Sonic Screwdriver. He raised an eyebrow in curiosity as the Sonic’s tip lit up light green and began making an odd whirring sound. The suitcase’s golden latches clicked open.
“What is that thing anyways?” Phil inquired gruffly.
“It’s my Sonic Screwdriver, useful little tool.”
“Why, out of all the devices you could make and find, would you chose to make a screwdriver sonic?” Phil snarked. “What, did you have a lot of cabinets to put up one day and thought making a screwdriver sonic would help the process?”
“Why does everypony prattle on about me and my Screwdriver?” the Doctor questioned. “Saved my life more times than I can count.” He ranted to himself about all the things his Sonic had done for him, with Phil not really paying any mind, as he threw open the suitcase, both partners eyes widening as they took a look at the contents. Inside were not just clothes, but a selection of small cylindrical devices.
“Infostamps…” the Doctor muttered, earning a raised eyebrow from Phil. “Basically a small storage unit, each filled with anything you could want to know about something. Now, this infostamp here…”
He pressed a small button and it projected, not unlike a slideshow, the history of Phil’s Equestria from the three tribes coming together all the way up to the present day. Phil discretely noticed that the Doctor shed a small tear when he saw Princess Twilight being coronated and heard him whisper “Thatta girl; knew you had it in you” to himself.
His eyes narrowed; evidently there was more to what the Doctor and Twilight had then what the Doctor was actually saying.
The Doctor began pacing back and forth as he thought aloud. “Now, what would a simple pony like Red Lightning be doing with an infostamp, hmm? Way out of Equestria’s tech level, they couldn’t have stuff like this for centuries,” the Doctor muttered.
“I want to correct you on one point, that is unless your arrogance keeps me from doing so and you must always be in the right,” Phil snarked. The Doctor winced, he supposed he deserved that much and gestured for Phil to go ahead. “Red Lightning wasn’t a simple pony as you claim, he was a member of the Royal Guard. Very skilled, very dangerous. His disappearance was the stuff of rumors and speculations in the newspapers for weeks, but nothing ever came of it ’til now, that is.”
“Wait, stop,” the Doctor suddenly said. “Question, he was investigating Boltstrike right, who was calling for more soldiers, the perfect soldier even wasn’t he?”
Phil nodded before his eyes widened as he remembered something.
“Doctor, earlier I ran into this beast, mechanical in nature. I tried to stop it after it tried to kill me, but it got away. Moved far too fast and was far too agile to be your average pony. You think this is what Boltstrike meant?” Phil questioned, as he placed a hoof to his chin in thought.
“Philip, this beast; describe it to me.” the Doctor said quickly.
“Wore a black shroud made of griffon fur, if I had to take a guess, and there was this strange ticking noise accompanying it wherever it went, almost like a clock,” Phil explained and the Doctor nodded. “But that wasn’t all; wore this gold mask over its face. I can sketch it out for you if needed.”
“Do it.” the Doctor stated. Phil pulled a pencil and a notepad out of his vest and began sketching out the mask he saw. As soon as the Doctor saw what design was taking shape, his eyes began to widen in horror and he began to mutter “No, no, no… Not them again, anything but them. Not here, it’s happening again! Everywhere I go, it always happens!”
The Doctor began to take deep, calming breaths-in a manner that reminded Philip of Twilight whenever she began to panic-and Phil firmly grabbed ahold of the Doctor’s shoulder and said, “Calm down; now what’s going on?”
“Cybermen, and I think I know how they got here. We need to get to Red Lightning’s home, now.” The Doctor made his way towards to the exit, but was stopped by Phil’s hoof.
“No, not just yet. There’s something we need to get out of the way first, the elephant in the room if you will,” Phil grunted out, turning the Doctor around to face him. “Princess Twilight, what was your relationship with her?”
“Do we really have time for this?” The Doctor brushed off Phil’s hoof. “One of my oldest enemies is now running amuck in Equestria, and your nation and everything beyond that is in danger and you want to talk about bloody relationships?” the Doctor roared in disbelief.
“Listen, something’s been bothering you since I met you, anypony with a brain can tell that much!” Phil scolded. “If you can’t keep your mind on the job at hoof you’re no use to Twilight or anypony else for that matter! I’m sorry Doctor, but that’s the damn truth!”
“Alright…” the Doctor sighed as he sat down on the couch nearby. “Princess Twilight, well she wasn’t one where I came from, still Celestia’s personal student at the moment, we were… close.”
Philip didn’t need to guess how “close” the two were judging by the Doctor’s tone and everything he had witnessed relating to Twilight in the TARDIS so far.
“I made a mistake, screwed something up and failed her, and now she hates me. Is that what you wanted?” the Doctor asked sourly. Phil sighed as he pulled up a chair.
“Listen, you’re not the only one to botch things up between you and someone you love. Me, I was in love with a mare, the adventurous, stubborn type. You’d probably like her,” Phil began. “Trouble was, our relationship was going nowhere, neither of us could spit out how we really felt about each other. Well, I suspect she could work up the nerve, but I couldn’t. Needless to say, we drifted apart. I’ll be lucky if she ever wants to see me again, really,”
In his head, the mental version of Daring stayed silent, jaw dropped in shock. Phil sighed as he put a hoof on the Doctor’s shoulder.
“Now, I can’t speak for Twilight, but I’d like to think everypony deserves a second chance. No matter what you did. Maybe it was your fault or maybe it wasn’t. I don’t know. There’s nothing that can’t be done to patch up a relationship. Who knows, maybe if you just try you’ll get yourself a second chance.”
“Doubtful…” the Doctor muttered to himself. “But we don’t have any more time to talk, not now. If the Cybermen really are here, then we’re all in trouble. We need to get moving, now. We need to get back to the TARDIS.”
Canterlot:
With that distinctive wheezing, groaning sound, the TARDIS landed outside of Red Lightning’s house in Canterlot as Luna’s moon shown down from the sky above The stars glimmered and glittered in the dark blue curtain of the night.
With a wistful gaze, the Doctor looked up to the stars and smiled.
“All of that, time and space at your hooves… It’s like you’re free as a bird.” the Doctor whispered. But Phil, as ever, had a different idea.
“Sounds to me like you’re running from something. Ever wonder what you’re running from?” he inquired with a raised eyebrow.
“All the time…” the Doctor trailed off before looking at Red’s home.
It was like most of the homes in Canterlot, fancy and adorned with a purple shingle roof and white paint, nothing really noteworthy. It wasn’t a very large shock to either pony, as being a Royal Guard never payed as well as some liked to have thought it did. The home had fallen into disrepair, with broken windows and vines climbing up the side of the walls. The front door hung open by one of its hinges, and Philip kicked it down.
“Woah, woah!” The Doctor exclaimed in surprise. “Trying to attract attention?”
“Not like anypony would care if it gets more damaged, dead man’s home really. But seeing as how we’re looking like common thieves looting a dead pony’s house, I’d suggest we get out of view and fast,” Phil deadpanned. “‘Sides, not like you’d do the same thing.”
“Point.” The Doctor admitted, having ditched his Sherlock Holmes attire (And the horrendously bad imitation accent) for a simple plum colored tweed suit and bow-tie. Phil thought it looked like a crime against fashion on him or anypony else personally, but he wasn’t going to comment. The two made their way through the abandoned home, finding nothing of note. That is, until they reached the basement. The Doctor’s eyes widened when he saw it. There lying in front of him was a Dimension Vault.
“...Probably stolen from some of my other old friends, the Daleks, I’m willing to bet. That’s how they must have gotten here, or at least the technology.” he trailed off.
“Doctor, blood.” Phil remarked, pointing to a pool of red blood on the floor.
“And nopony noticed this how?” the Doctor wondered aloud before muttering something about incompetent Royal Guards. Phil begged to differ.
“More likely, somepony got paid off to say nothing to the press and keep things quiet,” He theorized. “So, murdered here by somepony unknown, Boltstrike probably. But why?”
“I think I know why,” The Doctor muttered as he entered the next room. In it, were two headless “Pete’s World” Cybermen. Phil gaped. “Your dead guard, Red Lightning... What species was he?”
“Unicorn.” Phil stated. The Doctor “huh”ed to himself. He thought Red Lightning would be a pegasus, from the name alone before he began muttering under his breath.
“That would be enough to stop one, or two in this case,” He pondered before turning to Phil. “If I may take a guess at what happened here?”
“Go ahead.” Phil grunted out.
“Okay, so Boltstrike finds Red Lightning and these two. Now Cybermen, they would be the perfect soldiers. Heavily armored against most foes, and emotionless and logical. Boltstrike, being the stallion he is would want their tech for himself. Red Lightning would have none of it, knowing Boltstrike. They fight, and Boltstrike kills him in the scuffle, hence the blood.”
“And Boltstrike takes whatever teach he got from the Cybermen and any infostamps he could find and he’s… Oh dear Celestia,” Philip whispered, his eyes widening in horror. “Question Mark was right, he was onto something! And Boltstrike killed him for it,”
Phil’s head whirled around to face the Doctor’s.
“We need to get back to Manehatten, now. If Boltstrike’s planning what I think he is...”
“Agreed.” The Doctor growled out.
Manehatten: Harlem District:
As the two stepped out of the TARDIS once more into the grimy streets of Manehatten, Phil turned to the Doctor.
“The Cybermen, what are they?” He asked.
“Believe me mate, there are some things you’re better off not knowing.” the Doctor murmured. Phil glared harshly at him.
“Tell me, I need to know.” Phil growled out. The Doctor sighed to himself.
“The Cybermen… They’re not mechanical in nature, not completely. They were organic once, brains and other parts stuffed inside metal suits and stripped of everything that would make a pony… Well, a pony. No emotions, no anything. Nothing but cold hard logic remains. It’s a living Tartarus, that kind of fate is something I wouldn’t wish even my worse enemy on. They then spread out all over the planet, taking everypony for their own and converting them,” The Doctor explained, with anger in his tone. “And now somepony with a love for war, one of the things I despise most, aims to re-create them here… On your world. By Celestia… I won’t let another world meet that fate. It happened on Mondas, it almost happened to an alternate version of a planet I care very much about and I won’t let it happen here, you got that?” The Doctor growled out, in a tone of fury. Phil looked into his eyes at that moment, and he saw not a quirky mad stallion, but a warrior. He saw the Oncoming Storm.
“Phil, you know I hate it when I’m right, but you need help on this case. If what the Doctor says is true, then this is just bigger than the simple murder of an old friend. The fate of Equestria is at stake here.” Daring told Phil.
“You’re right, Daring. You’re absolutely right. Madman in a Box or not, I do need help.”
And so, with that, Philip Finder made his choice.
“Then we put a stop to it,” Phil stated, nodding in agreement. “I still don’t entirely trust you Doctor, or know what the Hell you are and I probably never will, but if we’re going to stop Boltstrike… Then we need to work together on this, are we clear?”
“Quite.” the Doctor stated as a police carriage pulled up and an officer stepped out of it.
“Philip! Been looking all over for ya! That sniper shell you found, it was bought recently by Eilas Boltstrike!”
“Figures, so Bradwr goes running to his scumbag brother…” Phil grunted out. “Should have known he’d have somepony helping him.”
“That’s the thing, we just found Eilas dead in the river. Had to fish him out.” the officer informed and Phil’s eyes widened in shock.
“Eilas or Bradwr more likely must have paid somepony off to shoot me. Get me out of the way so I couldn’t figure out what he and his arsehole of a brother are up to.” He mused aloud.
“Wait, how’s Bradwr involved in this?” The officer questioned.
“Nothing of your concern officer, it’s my problem to worry about now,” Phil stated before looking directly at the officer, knowing that if Bradwr was going to make a army of steel, he needed someplace to do it. “What’s the nearest factory to Harlem’s Paradise? Don’t care what type, fabric factory, gun shop, don’t care. Just any factory would do.”
“Well, there’s no factory near there, but there is a mini storage facility near 1st Avenue.” the officer replied and Phil nodded. Then that’s where he and the Doctor needed to be.
It wasn’t long before the twosome reached the warehouse. The Doctor pulled out his Sonic and unlocked the big metal sliding door at the back before Phil thrust it open with his Earth Pony strength.
“Ever consider a career in weightlifting? Might work out for you.” The Doctor teased as the two strode into the darkened warehouse. Phil pulled out a flashlight as he rolled his eyes and scanned the area right and left, shining a light on anything that moved. So far, all he’d seen were rats and shipping crates. Suddenly, there was a low growl and the shrouded creature leaped out of the darkness tackling the Doctor. He had his Sonic in mouth and aimed it at the monster. Next thing anypony knew, the clock ticking sound stopped before the monster fell limp and golden gears along with other bits and bobs scattered all over the floor.
“Clockwork Cyberman… I must admit, that’s a new one,” the Doctor commented before he murmured “Must have used something like the brain of the cat or a dog, explains the beastial nature and intellgence level. Oh, this is glorious! You are a beaut! How I’d love to take you apart and study you some more.”
Phil glared at the Doctor and how excited he seemed to be.
“You do realize that thing may just be a prototype to what Bradwr’s cooking up right, and the next one could be use the brain of a real pony.” He remarked. The Doctor blushed and had the decency to look ashamed of himself.
“Er… Yes, right. Sorry,” He apologized. “Anyways, shall we? Geronimo!”
And so the two continued into the warehouse where suddenly the lights flipped on and there stood Boltstrike, flanked by two of the clockwork Cybermen on either side atop a catwalk.
“Should have known you’d be showing up sooner or later Finder. You’re like a bad penny, always popping up where you’re not wanted. See you brought a friend as well. Always more fat for the frier I say.” Boltstrike remarked.
“No matter which universe I go to, you never change Bradwr! Always a war-mongering maniac!” the Doctor shouted. “Guess what, war’s over! Equestria doesn’t need these things, nor does it need you!”
“Hmm, might be a little insane for my tastes. Your brain might have to go in the rejected pile and become one of my little scouts here.” Boltstrike murmured to himself as metallic hoofsteps clanked against the floor. The Doctor’s eyes widened in horror.
“No, he couldn’t have figured out how to…” the Doctor thought before he was suddenly proven wrong as Cyberponies popped up from out of the woodworks. Two grabbed him while two more grabbed Philip.
“First things first, have to deal with you detective. Can’t have you blabbering on about my little plan now can we?” Boltstrike laughed as Phil was forced into one of the Cyberpony making machines and a helmet came down on his head. Phil let out a scream of terror as armor was grafted to his body and a faceplate came down over his muzzle. “Your brain, that’ll be put to good use and so will your body.”
“Philip! You need to think, think about your marefriend! Think about her! Don’t let them get to you. Your emotions, that’s the Cyberponies’ weakness! Think on her, think about the loss you felt, and how much you love her!” The Doctor shouted, and so Phil did. He thought back to his and Daring’s last conversation, and how it could have ended if he wasn’t such an idiot about it.
“This isn't working, is it?”
”This…you and I...us.”
“We travel around Equestria, find ancient treasures, solve crimes, catch criminals...what's not working?”
“Never mind.”
“What? What is it? I don't understand.”
“Of course you don't.”
“Actually… I think I do. Took me a bit of time, far too long really but I think I understand why things weren’t working.” Phil commented and Daring’s eyes widened in surprise before Phil kissed her squarely on the lips. Daring wrapped her forelegs around Phil’s neck as she let out a soft moan. Jackets and vests came undone and hats flew off as the two tumbled onto the bed...
In the real world, the Cyber-Conversion machine exploded open in a shower of sparks and Phil tore off the helmet and ripped open the armor that was rapidly beginning to be placed all over his body. He pulled out his baton, flipped it open and with a powerful swing hit one of the proto-Cyberponies in the side of its head, gears going everywhere. Phil then clambered up some crates and leaped towards Boltstrike tacking another of the proto-Cyberponies to the floor. Boltstrike pulled out a sword and countered one of Phil’s swings.
“What about the banker, Bag-Of-Bits? What about him? What was his part in this?” Phil questioned.
“Oh, well there will always be ponies who fail to meet standards.” Boltstrike commented.
With a roar of rage, Phil swung again…
Meanwhile, the Doctor wrenched himself from the Cyberponies’ grip and pulled out his Sonic.
“Who the hell do you think you are?” Boltstrike asked as he swung his sword at Phil, who blocked it with his baton before the final proto-Cyberpony tackled him.
“I’m the Doctor, and I save ponies. You wanted to become a stallion who stops monsters Boltstrike, but I’m sorry. In doing so you became one yourself in your role. Now I must play mine. The stallion who stops you!” the Last of the Time Lords growled before he aimed his Sonic at the Cyberponies. “Quick question, what do you think would happen if these ponies saw what they became, what you did to them Boltstrike?”
“Hardly the time for a pop quiz, Doctor!” Phil shouted as he used his baton to hold off the proto-Cyberpony’s claws. With a grunt, he shoved it off him and forced the baton into the creature’s chest. In an instant, he pulled it out as the creature tumbled to the deck blood from what used to be a pony or who knows what covering the baton. Phil sighed to himself, it was a mercy really.
“Emotional overload.” the Doctor stated darkly, before with a whirring sound he overloaded the emotional inhibitors on the Cyberponies.
The Doctor whispered “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” as each of them looked at each other and screamed, the influx of emotions becoming far too much before one by one, heads exploded and bodies fell down in lifeless hulks of steel armor. The Doctor lowered his head sadly, it had to be done.
Up above, Boltstrike swung to another catwalk as Phil threw a boomerang at him that flew over his head as Boltstrike ducked his head at the last moment. Phil then growled and used a chain to swing to the next catwalk and kick Boltstrike in the chest. Only thing he earned was a punch to the face for his troubles sending Phil sprawling back against the railing. Rubbing his bleeding nose, Phil threw a right hook and socked Bradwr in the jaw. But the Royal Guard wasn’t going to go down quite so easy. He grabbed Phil and headbutted him before tossing him over his shoulder behind him. Bradwr chuckled as he pulled out his sword again.
“Almost too easy really, thought you’d go down with more of a fight.” Bradwr chuckled as he placed the blade-tip to Phil’s throat.
“Oh come on Phil, you won’t let this ass beat you into next week will you? Still got me to go back to and well… You know.” Daring remarked with a flirtatious laugh and Phil snarled as he regained his strength. Phil chuckled, mentally thanking Daring for both smacking some sense into him throughout this whole adventure and then, in a way, saving his life. Next, he lunged at Bradwr and socked him in the jaw again before turning around and bucking him in the face finally knocking out the crazed stallion.
“Good riddance,” Phil commented before cuffing him to a railing as he heard the sound of police sirens in the distance. He scoffed. “Took ‘em long enough. Never on time when you need them.”
“You alright down there Doctor?” Phil shouted.
“Yeah, never been better! Almost watched a good friend become a Cyberpony, but aside from that… I’m okay, king of okay in fact!” the Doctor sarcastically commented. Phil chuckled. Yeah, he was okay.
Phil watched with a sad look on his face as Bradwr was loaded into the back of a van. How could he have missed it, somepony who was once a great hero to Equestria falling so far?
“You like to see the best in ponies Phil, that’s what I like about you,” Daring told him. “It’s not something you should be ashamed of.”
“But what do I tell the families?” Phil asked and this time it wasn’t Daring who answered.
“The truth, sadly,” the Doctor said from behind him. “A wise man once said “The truth is a beautiful and terrible thing, and should therefore be treated with caution.”
“Sounds like he was an idiot.” Phil grunted. The Doctor could only shrug.
“Maybe, maybe not. But you get my point. They do deserve to know what happened, you don’t have to tell them the full truth, not if you don’t want to. But they do deserve some closure.” the Doctor said, the blue lights flashing on both of their forms.
“Yeah, they do…” Philip trailed off before he turned to face the Doctor. “What about you? Where are you going next? Running off somewhere?”
“No, not to somewhere. You were right Phil, I was running away from something, or to be more accurate somepony. But now it’s time to stop. I have a long overdue apology to make, one I’ve been putting off for far too long.” The Doctor stated before walking off into the night, but not before leaving Phil one last message.
“Oi, if you see my counterpart, tell them I said hello eh?”
Phil smiled as he thought of Time Turner and his wife.
“I think I already have… Doctor, I think I already have.”
As Bradwr was taken away, feeling the carriage wheels rattling beneath his hooves on the pavement with two heavily armored SWAT ponies, carbine rifles in hoof keeping a firm eye on him he thought to himself.
“Damn them, damn them both,” He cursed before muttering “I could have had the perfect army, but that Doctor stepped in the way. To say nothing of Philip Finder.”
“Yes, he does have a way of getting in the middle of things does he not?” One of the SWAT Ponies asked in a Germane accent. Bradwr’s eyes widened in horror, he knew that voice. His fears were confirmed when the pony shot his partner and threw off his helmet to reveal a tan muzzle and a dark brown mane. The eyes, black as night almost as if looking into an abyss.
“Y-You?” Boltstrike stuttered out in horror. His boss nodded.
“But let me correct you on one thing Boltstrike. It was my army you were making, and you failed at that,” the pony laughed, though his amusement never quite reached his eyes. “Got too power hungry as well. Can’t have that. Plus, I have a little mess to clean up, I really despise loose ends. Sadly, or perhaps not, you’re one of them. So, for now… Auf Wiedersehen, alter Freund.”
Boltstrike knew he was dead, that much was certain. His boss never even smirked in pleasure, and that was possibly the most terrifying bit of all.
With that, Zugzwang pulled the trigger and chuckled. This little venture may have failed him, but after all… He still had plenty of other pawns left in play. And the best bit was, Philip didn’t know he was still around… Not yet, and that’s the way he liked it for the time being. Zugzwang turned to the driver.
“Schnell! Schnell, must get moving. I have to be out of this city by dawn, there’s a little surprise I want to plan for Philip and his friends back in Ponyville and I need time to set it up…”
Zugzwang smiled as he thought to himself. “So, my old friend. I’m making my move… Let’s see how this little game of chess unfolds. Perhaps it won’t be quite so boring as I thought it would be, not with this new piece in play…”
Golden Oaks Library: Ponyville:
“What?” The Tenth Doctor asked flatly as Twilight gaped wordlessly at the papers in front of her. “No, what? Me, in love with Twilight? And really, bow-ties and arguments with my past selves? No, seriously… WHAT?”
“So… I guess you don’t like it then?” Rarity laughed nervously.
“It…It has it’s good points. I do like the film noire aspect of it all.” Twilight admitted with the Doctor nodding along with her. “But please Rarity, next time you feel the need to write about me… Keep it to yourself okay?”
“Duly noted dear, duly noted,” Rarity commented while thinking to herself “I really hate Rainbow right now for introducing me to fanfiction…”
The End
Author's Note
Okay, so almost 14,000 words of film noire/Doctor Who style goodness! (Well, hopefully.)
I just want to thank all you who helped me with this, and I tip my hat to you. As for the rest of you, another one-shot this long? Hmm, chances are it probably won't happen again but then again you never know...
