The New Recruit

Spitfire was once again sitting in her office, pouring over the paperwork. She had in front of her the signed statements of the various ponies that contradicted Eight Ball's claim. She had more than enough evidence to have him thrown in the dungeon for the rest of his life. She'd kept him from his clients long enough that some of them were going through withdrawal, and had come forward with evidence hoping to take a cut of the drugs they found, and as a result, she'd found his stashes. Three of them, at least. She'd also needed to install a rehab program in the infirmary. She was willing to give the junkie students another chance if they cleaned up their acts, especially since they were instrumental in ensnaring their dealer.

The problem was, now he had an alibi. While that was a good thing in some ways, as it narrowed down who had attacked Ace, it also meant that her initial thought was wrong. Out of everypony, she was sure it had been him, but with all of these ponies coming forward, more than fifty ponies had seen him that night, and he'd been around the entire night. He'd not been away from view for longer than forty-five seconds, so he can't have possibly beaten up Ace.

The door flew open as Soarin burst in. "Captain! I have news!"

Spitfire slammed her hooves down on her desk. "Damn it, Soarin! Knock first!"

Soarin rapped on her desk.

"What is it, lieutenant?"

Soarin reached under his wing and presented his newspaper. Spitfire unrolled it and had a look. The front page image was Ace as they had found him in the cloud. This was from two days ago.

TROUBLE IN THE SKIES
Unfortunate news out of the Wonderbolts today, as one of the students seems to have been beaten senseless, in what can only be described as a racially-charged hate crime. Ace of Clubs, formerly a performer for the Wonderbolts' air show, was returning to the academy to begin his next term of schooling, when he was beset by an assailant.

As of this moment, it is unclear who was responsible for the incident, for the culprit has yet to be caught. "Rest assured, we're doing everything we can," says Wonderbolts Captain Spitfire. "We'll find out who did this, and they will be punished accordingly."

Upon hearing that, this reporter did a bit of digging through the laws surrounding the matter, and with the help of the district attorney, have come to understand some of the charges and the punishments that would follow if convicted.

Firstly, it should be stated that everypony that joins the Wonderbolts Academy is considered to be, for legal purposes, active duty Wonderbolts in the Royal Air Forces. That is to say, attacking a student would carry with it the same weight as attacking a royal guard. Second, Ace was not just a student. At the time, he was just coming back from a tour, meaning he was officially selected for Wonderbolt service, and was granted the uniform and the full protection provided by that uniform. He even had a rank: Squire.

Assault on an officer of the law, such as would be the case, since he is a Wonderbolt, carries with it... CONT PG. 7

Spitfire dropped the paper on her desk. "I've already seen the article, Soarin. I was interviewed in it, albeit briefly. I would have helped further if I wasn't trying to figure out who was responsible for this."

"Captain, look at the picture. Doesn't that seem odd to you?"

Spitfire looked again at the image printed on the front page. Ace was lying on the cloud, bleeding all over it. The generator was still spewing vapour everywhere, his uniform was torn in the same way, he still had all of his wounds, and the word "WINGLESS" was still scrawled across his chest, where his wing would have fallen, had he a pair of wings.

"I don't see anything odd about the image. What's different between this picture and what I remember, lieutenant?"

"Oh. Well, nothing I suppose. Your memory is sharp as a tack, ma'am. It's likely that this is exactly what you saw when you came in to help carry him to the infirmary to stabilise him. It certainly looks the same to me."

"Lieutenant, if you're wasting my time, I swear to Celestia--"

"Right, sorry. So, you remember the event, right? You remember when we found him?"

"Clearly."

"What happened right after we found him?"

"I removed the generator and checked for a pulse. When I found one, I cut away a section of cloud so that he could be moved to the infirmary to be stabilised, and you cleared the way. What's your point, lieutenant?"

"My point is, he wasn't out of our sight until he was in the infirmary, where he was removed from the cloud."

"So?"

Soarin leaned forward and pointed to the photograph, specifically, to the bottom. "Photograph courtesy of one Stir Depot."

Spitfire scowled. "Lieutenant..."

"When did they take the picture? When did they have time to take the picture? If it was taken after we found him, why are neither of us in the frame?"

Spitfire looked down at the paper again. That was a really good point. The clouds were lighter, too, and there wasn't as much blood. Most importantly, the lines of the writing were crisp and crystal-clear. When they found him, the words were blurry, as the ink had settled. This was fresh ink.

"Stir Depot took this picture before we arrived," she concluded.

"Hours before we arrived," agreed Soarin. "Ma'am, I'd like permission to find out who this is, and I'd like to bring them in."

"Well? Off your arse, lieutenant! Go find them!"

Soarin saluted with a smile. "Ma'am."

He turned and left, leaving Spitfire to look over the picture further. The article was accurate, being written by Headline Flair, but he'd need to talk to the editor to find out who took the picture. Usually, freedom of the press would protect the photographer, especially since the story was true, but Soarin was a Wonderbolt; an officer of the law. If he had reason to believe that a crime had been committed, and he did, then he could bypass the anonymity, and have direct access to the pony that had taken the picture and just left Ace sitting there.