The Chase Files

by NintegaDeStellar

Rating: teen
Tags: Adventure, Slice of Life, Alternate Universe, Human
Length: 9320

A young man's detective services are required in Equestria, only for him to get thrown in deeper than anyone expected.

Donovan Chase is a Private Investigator who operates in and amongst the streets of England. One day, he receives a request for help from a visitor. Obliged to solve the case and excited about the chance to visit new surroundings, Donovan accompanies his new acquaintance to the small town of Ponyville, where the usual state of peace and tranquility has been compromised.

Rated Teen due to language and people getting shot, punched, kicked and blind stinking drunk. Fun times.

The universe in which this story takes place is a variation of the one used in "Gentlemen for Mares" by Demon Eyes Laharl. Namely, a universe where humanity and Equestrians have established contact and both races interchange citizens frequently. The setting is used with his permission.

Published 1970-01-01 00:00:00 UTC
Last updated 2012-12-19 21:44:15 UTC

Mr. Chase, I presume?

I must admit that, unlike a lot of people on Earth, I was rather relieved when they cracked down on the immigration to Equestria. From what I could imagine, I doubted many of the ponies were accustomed to having humans in their world, much less large groups of them. I can see where they’re coming from in any case; I can’t say I enjoy being gawked at by mass groups of mysterious bipedal aliens either.

It was a shame in some ways I guess. I would rather have liked to visit Equestria one day, but getting there was hard enough as is, considering the portal to Equestria was somewhere on the other side of the globe.  That and I never really seemed to find the time to make the trip in the first place, between my detective work and my status as a sort of social butterfly (Or booze hound, depending on your definition,) I didn't really have any time or reason to make the trip.

That is, until a rather strange client came to my office one day.

***

“…so Marie sneaks around behind him, gives him the drop and leaves him crying in the dumpster! HAH!” With the conclusion of his little story, my whiskey-breathed friend let out a hearty laugh at the grim contents he had included within, every gruesome detail intact. Daniel Teller was (and is still,) not a man known for his compassion, that’s for sure. We three members of his audience silently sipped our tea in response, gazing away in unison. “Oh c’mon! It’s not like you’ve never done anything violent in your life, right Vieri?” The young boy to my right gave a light laugh as he set his tea to the side, the wind whipping his brown hair away from his deep red eyes, which were looking at Daniel’s with a steely fixation.

“The difference between you and me Mr. Teller is that I don’t get caught. If I am a scimitar, you are a sledgehammer.” Vieri’s little sister Sasha nodded her head in agreement. For a 13 and 8 year old duo, the two were surprisingly on the ball. “I’m very much sure Mr. Chase hasn’t stooped as low as you, in any case. As for me, I do what I do out of necessity, not some barbaric sense of pleasure.”

“Baldercrap!” Teller exclaimed, pointing an accusing finger my way. “There’s a reason everybody in London is afraid of you, right? What was it, Chase? You’re too clean for murder and torture.”

“It’s all a matter of getting into the public’s head, Mr. Teller.” I said with a proud grin. “It’s like I always say, the pen—“

“Is mightier than the sword, yeah I got it. Still, nothing puts the fear of god into a man like a crowbar to the throat, I say.” My brow lowered and a groan escaped my throat as Teller leaned back in his chair and poured the contents of a small hip flask into his cup. I can’t deny that I too succumbed to the devil’s nectar on a regular basis, but Teller basically ran on the stuff. Come to think of it, I don’t think I’ve seen him sober even to this day. With his little comment, Teller had effectively ended our discussion.

“Can I get you anything else, sirs?”  Came a young female voice from behind us. Teller turned in his seat before letting out a yell and falling off it entirely. With beauty and grace befitting that of a cinder block, he pulled himself from the floor (Well, he tried anyway.) and met the large silver eyes of the waitress. Both he and I were taken aback as the young pony helped the drunkard to his feet, her apron contrasting against her bubblegum pink coat. I took particular notice of the horn which adorned her head, as it was enveloped in a silver aura, matching that which hung around Teller’s body.

“I’m so, so sorry! I didn’t mean to…” This was beyond bizarre. I had heard something about the portal to Equestria being opened on the other side of the world, but I had never seen any of its inhabitants up close. The fact that she was able to speak English perfectly was rather jarring. She sounded just like any other human in London, American accent notwithstanding. The waitress chanted apologies as Daniel dusted himself down, righting his trilby in the process.

I motioned to the younger of my friends as she walked away. “Who on earth was that? You don’t seem as boggled as the rest of us, you two.” Vieri and Sasha had seemingly been unfazed by the appearance of this foreign visitor.

“Do we ever?” Damn, she had me there. Vieri and Sasha might have been the youngest investigators out of us all, but they were the best by a long shot. “We’ve had several requests from Equestrians already. As you’d imagine, there’s been a lot of hostility towards the new race. Most Londoners are about as hospitable as a cage full of starving vipers.” The elder brother informed us.

“You’re telling me. I’ve got in about 10 bar fights since coming over here alone!” Well, no harm to Teller but that’s more or less the norm no matter where he goes. “Why do you reckon all the chavs and hardasses hate ‘em so much? Is it because they’re so… what’s the word?” Daniel’s fingers drummed on his chin as he racked his brain for a word to use.

“Garish?” Sasha suggested.

“I wouldn’t go that far Sasha, but they’re certainly colourful for the most part.” For the most part? Good lord, how many ponies had he seen already to meet that conclusion? I’m not going to deny that I get around London quite often, particularly on pub crawls, but it struck me as odd that in all the places I had been to, not one person had ever let slip about ponies being present on our streets. These creatures were either very good at staying hidden or everyone I had spoken to had erased their memories through inebriation.

“Hah, Brightly-coloured ponies being able to hide themselves. Sure, and I’m Nelson Mandela.” I thought before tuning back into the conversation.

“It’s a change from the dull shades on the streets I guess. Not that Manhattan is much better.” Teller downed another mouthful of whiskey.

“Surely Manhattan is full of them though? The portal opened somewhere on the other side of the world if memory serves me right.” Well, I didn’t know where exactly the portal was, seeing as I was apparently the only person NOT keeping track of it 24/7, but I had picked up titbits over time. I had heard about border control changes as of late, but little else. Silly really, a land of colourful, peaceful ponies opens up and for some reason everybody’s surprised when the majority of us humans want to jump ship.

Sasha corrected me. “There’s more than one side of the world though, Mr. Chase! I can’t remember where it was but I don’t think it was in America. The portal was inside a big cavern on a little island…”

“In the Philippines, Sasha. They have yet to actually give the portal’s island a name, unfortunately. I’ve been calling it “The Shred” since it opened.” Vieri finished.

I had to give the young one credit; it was better than no name at all. I reached over and flipped open the newspaper, one particular story having caught my eye.

“Meetings are being held today in Washington to discuss the implementation of Technology in Equestria. Both races will be discussing ways of combining magic and machines into what is being called “MagiTek” at the current time. Several unofficial tests have been carried out by the recently-founded RainCorp, the company dedicated to furthering the involvement of either race in the other’s culture. According to reports, current progress is slow.”

“Well, that didn’t take long. Only 6 months in and they’re started to mess with magic and technology alike.” I commented idly as I felt a small drop of water land on my hand. “Hopefully we don’t have another Hiroshima coming along any time soon. Lord knows somebody’s going to try and weaponise magic eventually.”

“Oh, lighten up. The princesses won’t let that happen. One of them can control the freakin’ sun, after all!” Teller smacked his fist into his open palm to emphasise his point. “Would you risk exploiting a world where the monarchy can shift something that big? I may drink a lot but no amount of sauce would ever make that seem like a good idea!”

He had a point. No matter how benevolent and kind the princesses of Equestria were said to be, everybody could agree that their power was fierce. Another drop of water landed atop my head, followed by another and another.

The clouds in the sky began to huddle up as it suddenly became very dark and very wet all at once. Vieri popped open an umbrella and held Sasha close, whereas Teller didn’t seem to care, his trench coat and hat keeping him dry. Thunder growled at us from the sky like an angry bulldog while its teeth, the accompanying bolts of lightning, gnashed at the earth with a threatening crack.

“Another time, lady and gentlemen?” I asked, my own umbrella expanding above my person.

“If we don’t get washed away by the tides, perhaps!” Vieri beamed as he made his way down a nearby alley to escape the rain.

A wave was all I got from Teller as he trudged off in the opposite direction from the young duo, leaving only me on my own. “Not much use in catching a cold out here. Looks like it’s time to go home.” I mumbled to myself. My pocket kept my free hand warm as my other braced against the elements around it, all in the hopes of keeping my head dry. The day had certainly taken a turn for the worst that was for sure. Teller can say what he likes, but London always seemed more vibrant during the day. The rain only helped colour the world a sombre shade of grey as the sky cried out above me, the curtain of liquid being my only companion on the long walk home.

I hate walking in the rain. Looking at it from inside in front of a nice warm fireplace is all well and good, but walking in it just makes you cold and lands you on the verge of hypothermia. Have any of you ever actually tried singing in the rain? It’s terrible. Either way I felt rather blue on my way back to my office building, the weather having taken its toll during the lengthy stroll. The noise was like a thousand tiny bullets smacking into the ground and cascading off into who knows where. For a man who relies mainly on his intellect to bring home the bacon being unable to hear myself think is a god-awful experience.

With weary eyes I glanced upwards towards the end of the street where my office was, every light in the neighbouring apartments being on but mine. I vowed to remedy that as soon as possible. It came to my attention however that I was apparently not alone out in this dismal downpour. Momentarily I thought I might have been mistaken, but the closer I got the more my suspicion came to light. There was indeed a figure standing outside my office.

It most certainly wasn't a person. The skin was a very distinct shade of white, going beyond what was the norm for someone of a simple, pale complexion. The creature was also quadrupedal. My mind initially assumed that the creature was a police horse; however they were only ever brought out at events and riots. What was one doing here? Perhaps it had run away, in which case I saw fit to return the creature somehow lest it get sick in the weather.  Yet as I moved closer, my clarity of vision grew; allowing me to see that the figure was far from a normal police horse.

Well, I wasn't entirely wrong, anyway. The creature was indeed a horse, or more specifically, a pony. It had been hard to tell at a distance, but the figure was a lot shorter than a normal equine. It appeared to be standing in close to the building, trying not to get the rain on its suit and tailcoat. Blue hair was draped around its face in large matted clumps, proving its efforts to be a little less than effective.  A white horn poked out from between the clumps, much like that of the pony waitress at the café. I took some sympathy on the creature and called out to it.

“Hello? Are you alright?” The pony turned to face me. Well, at least I could be heard through all this bloody rain.

“Ah, yes!” The pony replied. From his voice I could confirm that he was male. He spoke with a rather uppity-sounding voice, to put it one way. “Mr. Donovan Chase, I presume?” He shouted. Needless to say I was taken a little off guard by his response, not that my name isn’t Donovan Chase but rather that he responded at all. I was still getting used to the whole “Ponies talking perfect English” situation. I nodded in confirmation and held out my umbrella to the stallion. To my surprise, the umbrella lifted itself entirely out of my hands and began floating beside me. The stallion simply smiled as the orange light enveloping my umbrella cascaded around his horn in a similar fashion. I hurriedly unlocked the door and got us both inside.

“Brr! My goodness is it always that freezing outside?” The stallion exclaimed, taking a seat opposite the fireplace, which I had taken the liberty of lighting as quick as I could. “Ah, thank you. The weather was atrocious out there; I’m relieved your office is as cosy as it is!”

“That's England for you.” I chuckled. The warm bronze glow of the fire embraced us both and was a lot more appealing than the conditions outside. As luck would have it, the large leather armchairs which resided in my office were large enough to accommodate a pony's way of sitting, meaning the stallion was as much at ease as I was.

“Now, Mister...” I started, only then realising that I didn't know the stallion's name.

“Fancypants. Just Fancypants.” He informed me. I also hadn’t realised that ponies had such... light-hearted names. I cleared my throat before continuing.

“Yes, Mr. Fancypants. As I was beginning to say, what brings you to England? It’s only ever once in a blue moon we see your kind around here and unsurprisingly they’re never in a hurry to stay.”

“Well truth be told I’m not here to stay. Not that England isn’t a charming place, but I’m here on business after all. I have a case for you, Mr. Chase.”

Strange, I didn’t think I was that well known. Then again a lot friends of mine had crossed the border to make a life for themselves, they’d likely met the stallion and I’d come up in conversation. Still, it never hurts to ask.

“Interesting. Why me, though? That is, I’m intrigued as to how you know me. I’m not exactly famous and my exploits aren’t worthy of trans-worldly acclaim.”

“Oh, I beg to differ! You may not be famous sir, but you are by no means unknown! I have heard some things from the regulars at the bar in my hometown and they are quite the exploits, I must say!” I couldn’t help but notice Fancypants’ ears twitch as he said this. His eyes were half-closed and he seemed to shut his eyes a lot when he talked. Now I’m far from an expert in pony anatomy, or human anatomy for that matter, but something about this struck me as strange. Perhaps I was habitually reading too much into this at the time, but I had to ask further.

“I see. What exactly was being said about me?” Not to toot my own horn, but I happen to be a man with a rather distinctive reputation, I had made sure of that. But that can wait for later, for now I took note of the slight pauses which Fancypants took before speaking. Seemingly unimportant to many people, but I couldn’t afford to let my guard down.

“Well the gents at the bar were never the same pair twice, but their conversations always seemed to turn into ones about you. Some spoke about you and your “iron liver,” so to speak. Others said something about your…” He paused again. Well, I did have an iron liver, so he was doing well so far. The fact that a lot of people had been talking about me in one place seemed strange though. Then again it would make sense that a lot of humans would have centred around the one place, I figured. Strength in numbers and all the rest of it. “…Caller lines? Is that what they’re called?” By this point I was just as confused as Fancypants. What in the bloody hell was a caller line?

Fancypants continued, undeterred. “Never mind, I’ve also heard it told that you were a ruthless detective! A man of action, panache and swagger was what they said, A man who all criminals fear and with good reason!” Yes, but probably not for the reason he was expecting.  If he had heard about my reputation, I doubt he’d be as eager as he was to meet me.

“And so, Mr. Chase, I sought to find out where you live, which brings me to you on this most dismal of evenings. You sound like a man who knows how to get things done!” Something definitely wasn’t right here. Either Fancypants had been lied to or he had ulterior motives for this little visit. The type of name I had made for myself wasn’t one which promoted simply coming in for a visit.

However, at the same time I couldn’t help but feel that Fancypants wasn’t to blame. He seemed entirely unaware of my past endeavours, leading me to wonder from whom he’d heard about me in the first place. Asking seemed pointless, since he’d only overheard some conversations told by barflies, so I doubted he’d know any names. Perhaps then it wouldn’t hurt to ask further about the case. Whatever Fancypants HAD heard, it seemed to be enough to warrant coming all this way to see me.

“I see. What is this all important case, pray tell?”

“Well, you see Mr. Chase, It was not so long ago when I met a young mare by the name of Rarity, who was an artisan in the tailoring crafts. Since then, I have made a habit of meeting her in her home town. A little place by the name of Ponyville.” The stallion explained. I credited the ponies for the cute name.

“So one day, during my regular visit, I noticed that there was a bit of commotion over by her store. Upon investigation, it seemed that the entire of her inventory had been stolen! Quite the predicament. I want you to track down the culprit, and hopefully find and return what has been filched.” I eased back in my chair and brought my palms together as I mulled over the story, a long silence possessed the room. Fancypants didn't seem put off by this, however. His ease of expression and the way his mouth was curled into a soft smile seemed to express that quite well.

I found it quite interesting that this all kicked off after the portal opened. As I had pointed out earlier, it had been about 6 months since the phenomenon had come about, and humans had been all too eager to go exploring. I was beginning to suspect that my fellow homo sapiens were been involved, but at the same time that could have been a ruse. Anyone would suspect humans of committing crimes as soon as they got across the border. That meant every other Tom, Dick and Harry Stallion basically had a get-out-of-pony-jail-free card.

Thinking about it, I admitted to myself that I was a little more excited than I was letting on. This was a chance to go to another world and meet its inhabitants, for goodness' sake! I mean really, how serious is a case of stolen clothes anyway? This was more like a holiday than a job!

I snapped back to reality as I acknowledged my getting ahead of myself. I cleared my throat and resumed my previous line of inquiry.

“Isn't there some form of law enforcement in Equestria that could track down the perpetrator?” My guest scoffed at the very notion. Oh dear.

“More often than not, Mr. Chase, it's the responsibility of each citizen to look after their own. Equestria was peaceful enough before… well… before all of this happened.” That seemed like a rather careless approach to take, friendly ponies or not.

As much as part of me wanted to hop on the next plane to Equestria at the drop of a hat, I couldn’t let my own desires cloud my judgement. My brow sank as the external world seemed to slowly sink away, my inner thoughts taking dominance over my senses. Something was still bothering me about this case, but I couldn’t tell what. One thing was for certain, the snippets of information that Fancypants had gathered all came from different people from what he had told me. This meant that some group or organisation in Equestria knew about me. This could have been good or bad, to be fair, I had just as many honest business associates as I did… sketchy associates. Someone could be putting in a good word or putting out a hit on me, for all I knew. Whatever the case, I needed to find whoever was talking about me and, as Teller would say, “Either thank ‘em or shank ‘em!” This job that Fancypants was offering seemed like a dawdle anyway. If anything it would serve as something for me to keep me busy while I went about my business.

After a long period of silence, I finally gave my guest an answer. “Alright, Fancypants. Consider me on the case.” I finally said. Our glasses made a celebratory “clink” as we toasted to our new acquaintanceship over a fresh bottle of brandy.

***

Truth be told, my office isn’t so much an office as it is my home away from home, hence why Fancypants was so surprised when I drew the key to my guest room from my pocket. It’s better to have multiple dwellings when dealing with the sort of people I deal with. Less chance of getting yourself bombed or shot on the doorstep.

I tossed Fancypants the key to my guest room and bid him goodnight. He smiled at me in presumed gratitude as he went to hit the hay. The rhythmic sound of his hooves ascending the stairs was annoyingly loud. As I listened to the receding sounds I felt a slight chill overtake my fingers as I noticed that the fire was beginning to fade. A quick stab with my ever-trusty fire poker set the room alight with heat yet again. As I tended to do, I turned to my window to collect my thoughts.

This was an interesting opportunity. I was still curious as to how getting through border patrol would fare, but I assumed Fancypants had a plan. He’d managed to get through it easily enough, right? For a fleeting moment, I considered the possibility of this case going south somewhere along the line, but that thought was dismissed quickly. It was a case of missing clothes; I was hardly going to be jumping out of planes and exploding buildings any time soon.

I also tried to imagine what sort of person had the… no, what sort of person or pony had the guts to pull off a crime in Equestria of all places. I mean, the world is ruled over by living goddesses! If they can't handle small problems like this, there must be a reason I thought. Then again, I was always a firm believer in the pen being mightier than the sword and intellect trouncing strength. I assured myself that I'd be fine if I kept my wits about me. I tucked my pistol away anyhow... The pen may be mightier than the sword but it can't write at long range.

I too followed in Fancypants' wake and creaked up the wooden stairs of my office, slipping off my clothes and tumbling heavily into bed. I closed my eyes as visions of seeing that magnificent portal flashed through my head. The glorious feeling as I stepped through it into another world entirely. It was only then that I came to realise something. No human who had gone to Equestria had ever come out. It seemed understandable, seeing as the world held a lot more advantages than ours did. Everyone was mostly kind, crime was low, and land was pure and natural. The more I thought about it, the more it unnerved me. I set this to the side of my mind as I rolled over in bed. A sort of side-quest, as it were. With that thought fresh in the back of my mind, I drifted off to sleep.

***

The sun shining in my window alerted me that it was time to get up. My body refused, of course, but today was a special day. A quick dunk in the sink let the icy claws of the water pry open my eyelids, a feeling which lingered even as the liquid left my face. Despite my newfound awakened state, every part of my body still felt heavy with the lack of activity. I decided to get dressed in such cases, on this particular morning swinging open my wardrobe and putting on a suit. Why not? If you're going to introduce yourself to another species, might as well do it with class. I double-checked that my pistol was still secured to my waist before heading down for breakfast.

Unsurprisingly, Fancypants wasn't awake. I made sure to always wake up before guests, so I could prepare a meal beforehand. I strolled into the kitchen at the back of my office and got out the usual utensils. It was only halfway through preparing myself some fried eggs that I had a realisation. I had no idea what ponies ate. Guessing they were vegetarian, I fished through my fridge and retrieved some salad ingredients. I hated salad- which led me to wonder how the ingredients for one ended up in my fridge- but I quickly (and quite literally) threw together what I assumed was a decent salad and hoped it would suffice.

I, on the other hand quickly gorged myself on the bacon, sausage, egg and potato bread which I had prepared and thanked the gods that we were omnivorous. It was after my meal fit for a king that I heard my guest descend from his room, taking up the offer of food on the table without missing a beat. I cleaned up quickly and made sure nothing had spilled onto my suit in the meantime. An oversight, but not one that had ended badly.

“Enjoying the food? I’ve never made salad before, so hopefully it’s edible at least.” Fancypants had no qualms with it, in any case. I doubted I was going to be rivalling any five-star pony chefs, but it would do.

“Ah yes Mr. Chase, I believe our transportation was arranged to pick us up outside your house. I apologise for the inconvenience, but I did not expect that we were going to stay here last night.” So he knew where my home AND office building was? I was understandably quite worried and equally intrigued. When I got to Equestria I’d have to investigate this bar of Fancypants’. “Are you ready to go?”

“I suppose I am. I’ll grab my suitcase and we shall be off.” One run upstairs and one locked door later, my new equestrian acquaintance and I were briskly making our way to my actual home. As I said, ponies weren’t very common over in London, since the portal had opened on the other side of the globe. As I thought about it, I pondered why on Earth one of those Pegasus ponies couldn’t just fly over. It was a long way, but I was sure they’d be used to it. Then I recalled that when compared to the rest of the world, London wasn’t exactly the sunniest, friendliest, cleanest, healthiest, warmest, safest or most upper-class city when compared to the rest of the world. Nevertheless we had our occasional pony residents, but they were few and VERY far between. The looks we got were frequent and puzzled as we walked down the street. Fancypants noticed this. “Is there something wrong, Mr. Chase? I can’t help but notice we’re garnering a lot of attention.”

“Pay them no mind. Ponies of any kind aren’t very common over here, so there are many places where people aren’t used to seeing them in public. Stay away from the ones in snapback caps; they’re the ones to worry about.”

“Why’s that? And what’s a snapback cap?” A group of teenagers wearing ostentatious clothing and ridiculous jewellery came literally strutting down the road towards us. As they passed, one of them muttered the word “Arsehole”, unable to say it to my face evidently. Nevertheless, his simple-minded troupe all thought this was very amusing. I therefore turned around to offer a retort.

“How’s your Dad doing these days? Finding the inside of that cell I put him in to his liking?” This caught their attention. They all turned at once, causing Fancypants to begin backing off down the street. I stood my ground, however. Children should be taught to respect their elders, after all. “Oh yes, that was me. He fought back so hard too, gathering all his friends around him like the meatiest shield in the butcher’s, but all for naught, m’boy. No amount of drugged-up cronies could save him.”

At this point, the pack leader in question had pulled out a small knife from the inside of his pocket and was running towards me, ready to shank me and avenge his father. All at once I began analysing the situation in my head. I couldn’t attack him head on, since his knife was being held close to his chest, and he was liable to shank me if I left myself open and tried to take a swing. The look on his face was curled into one of unfathomable anger, which in my experience was always a good sign. An enemy angered is one liable to make mistakes. Since attacking him head-on was out of the question and he was far too focused on me to pay attention to anything else, I felt that I could ascertain the best course of action to take.

With little effort I sidestepped and tripped the boy, the knife cascading off into the street. He sat paralysed for a moment, clearly not expecting me to retaliate in such a way. I leaned down to the helpless sap, my voice barely above a low growl.

“You and your little friends had better be on your best behaviour, or I’ll do to you what I did you your Father and his goons.”

He couldn’t have run away faster if he tried.

I dusted off my trouser leg and motioned to Fancypants to continue walking with me. It didn’t take long for the questions to start pouring out. “Is this sort of behaviour common in your line of work, Mr. Chase?”

“That it is. As much as some people might tell you otherwise Fancypants, violence is a staple of human culture. Some may view it as a primitive solution to problems, but it wouldn’t be hardwired into our brains if it wasn’t a solution that worked.”

“Be that as it may, it was a most impressive display, Mr. Chase! A bit unbecoming of a gentleman such as you if I’m honest, but impressive all the same!” This was the first time I’d seen Fancypants with his eyes all the way open. Clearly he was surprised by my display, and I couldn’t blame him. To everyone who knew me personally, the two sides of Donovan Chase were like chalk and cheese.

“I’ve been known to get into a full-on tussle from time to time, but I’d much rather stay out of the way if possible. I can’t stand ill-mannered people though. The only cure for people being too big for their boots is a clip around the ear to get them back in line.” I smacked a hand off my palm much like a cane across a young schoolboy’s fingers, which Fancypants seemed to pick up on as well. “But regardless, however did you get here, Fancypants? I imagine the only ponies able to come this distance are the ones with wings, and even then they rarely ever appear.”

“Well you see Mr. Chase, much like humans we ponies have ways to get around where we are usually unable to. You’ll see soon enough.” Much like humans, eh? My mind began conjuring up images of how in the blazes a pony would drive a car, which presumably was going to pick us up at my address. How would a pony use a steering wheel without any fingers? I settled upon “With great difficulty” as an answer.

It wasn’t long before we reached my bungalow, the wooden walls looking in need of a fresh coat of paint as the old coat began to either wear off or be tagged by vandals. I fished about in my pockets to find the key, but Fancypants assured me that the transport wouldn’t be long. So we waited, with me anxiously looking up and down the street for signs of our taxi. “Aha, there we are!” Exclaimed Fancypants. Oddly, a quick look up and down the street again showed that nobody was coming.

“Are you quite sure, Fancypants? It doesn’t—JESUS CHRIST!” I leapt backwards as a gleaming pearl stagecoach abruptly ground to a halt in front of me and my companion shortly after having fallen from the sky. The two large stallions that were pulling said stagecoach flexed their wings after the landing, receiving a nod and a wink from Fancypants, who I could only imagine was congratulating them on their performance. I gulped at the thought of this. If that was what a good landing was like, I was in no mood to see a bad one.

One of the stallions unhitched himself from the brace he was fastened into and opened the door for Fancypants, who sat himself down comfortably on the seat with his back against the back of the interior. I tossed my suitcase on top of the stagecoach, where the second stallion fastened it down with admirable speed. It took some effort, but I managed to squeeze myself into the cramped vehicle. The seat I was on was roughly the size of a primary school child’s, meaning my legs took up about half the carriage just to get spread out. It was hellish.

“I'm sorry that I couldn't arrange a more convenient form of transport. As rich as I am, I don't often have to accommodate humans.”

“It's fine, really!” I lied. “It's not like I'll be stuck here all day.” Well, that was what I hoped anyway.

“Oh by the way, you might want to hold onto something.” Fancypants warned me. Before I could ask why, the stagecoach jerked forward as we took off, sending me face-first into the other side of the interior.

I prayed to whatever god was willing to listen that this journey wouldn’t take long…

***

About 12 hours later my back was in shatters and I was ever so slightly losing the will to live.

“So you’re telling me that humans have motorised carriages? Are they like trains, perchance?”

“Well no, they’re more complicated than that. See, the driver is placed inside with a window looking out, and they have a multitude of different levers, pedals and devices to make the internal components of the car do things, like turn the wheels for example.”

“Fascinating…” This is how we had passed the time. So far I had come to learn very little about the pony world, since Fancypants had been asking most of the questions, but it seemed that they had a lot in common with human culture, with the exception of certain technological advances taking longer than others. I had been told that apparently clubs and bars had large hi-fi speakers, DJ decks and microphones, yet they got around via steam-powered trains and horse/pony-drawn carriages. Odd set of priorities, those ponies.

“So tell me a bit about yourself, Mr. Chase. I'm curious to hear the story behind such a skilled detective as yourself.” Fancypants poured me a glass of orange juice from a small bar behind the seats. I stared at it and him respectively. I greet him with brandy and he greets me with orange juice? If he hadn’t been my only ticket into Equestria, I’d have slapped him. It even seemed that the glasses were comparatively tiny to those used by humans. Ugh. I gulped it down nonetheless.

“Well... I was born and raised in England. Mother was a Doctor and my Father was a train conductor. He used to let me ride along the railroads with him when I had the time and even taught me how to operate the train at one point. Good times, to be sure.” I couldn’t help but grin as I recalled where this little story of mine ended up. I considered this a sort of tradition as well as a way of getting back at Fancypants. I took another mouthful of orange juice before continuing.

“So anyway, one night, me and my Father were gallivanting back home after riding the rails particularly late one night, when these two criminals sneak into the cargo hold and bust the door in, guns ablaze.” Fancypants hung on my every word, but appeared rather horrified at the whole experience. Of course, I had to remember that gun crime was non-existent in Equestria, or at least not as prevalent.

“And then what did you do?” My companion inquired, adjusting his monocle ever so slightly.

“Well, as the two men drew closer they got the passengers to put their hands up, me and my Father included. However, one man in particular, a detective just like myself, refused. The two criminals turned around to beat some compliance into him...” I drifted off as I took yet another gulp of orange juice.

“...And that's when I turned to the nearest passenger, a police officer, pulled the gun from his holster and splattered the robber's brains over the walls.”

I could feel the atmosphere in the stagecoach come down like a ton of bricks, which was pretty impressive for a story that’s entirely false. This, my friends, is the Donovan Chase known throughout London town. A man who revels in taking the lives of others and is willing to work for anybody he deems fit to guide him. The man who supposedly destroyed an entire gang and wiped the remains off the face of the Earth.

What a load of old bollocks. I’ve never taken a life before and I don’t intend to. However, this was my shtick, the story which had given me my reputation as a bloodthirsty vigilante of sorts, so I had to play this up a bit. A twisted albeit fake smile crept across my face. Of course, Fancypants didn't seem to find this situation as funny as I did, as was made clear due to his glass shattering off the bottom of the stagecoach.

“Mr. Chase...” He began with an unsteady tone, but I knew what was bouncing through his little pony skull right now. Something wondering how an upstanding and polite young man such as myself could have committed an atrocity like that at such a tender age.

“Don't let my appearance and demeanour fool you, Mr. Fancypants. I'll mind my manners if everybody does the same, but I find that for investigations, such methods are more than effective, I think you'll agree. But don't worry, I'm not a murderer.” I could see him begin to form a counter argument, but I wasn't in the mood for arguing right now. Considering that I mentioned my disdain for fighting earlier in the day, this was understandable. But then again, putting a barrel to someone’s head and pulling the trigger doesn’t really count as a fight, does it?

“I'll hurt whoever deserves to be hurt... Nobody else.” I added with a wink. I turned my gaze to the window and saw the large portal casting its light over the bits of darkness which crept up following the rising of the moon. It was truly an extraordinary sight.

“Oh look, we're here!” Fancypants exclaimed, clearly eager to take his mind off my practices and the methods which were employed throughout. I turned my attention to the window and saw the bright orange glow of molten magma emanating from the top of a volcano off to one side of the island. It seemed calm enough, but it still made me shift nervously in my seat. Straining my eyes to see past the layers of darkness, I could make out several other buildings on the surface as well. When the newspapers had said the island was a “Small land mass” this wasn’t exactly what I had in mind.

Roads linked together the various buildings which dotted the landscape, including several large complexes surrounded by several smaller buildings, reminding me of a university campus ever so slightly. I could make out a symbol on top of said building, which I recognised as that of the Philippine Navy. I also took note that there was a very sizable dock offshore, with plenty of battleships anchored at one end. It seemed to be shaped to allow for ferries to dock, which was hardly surprising considering immigration rates to Equestria had been astronomical thus far. As we rounded the island, I also took notice that several orange lights were flashing on the surface, signifying that a runway was nearby.

I also took notice of that fact that we weren’t going to land on it. “Pardon me Fancypants, but the runway is over there…”

“Oh that? That’s the airport used during the day for public flights. The private landing strip is down there.” Fancypants motioned to a platform which was floating above the lapping waves, seemingly levitating of its own volition. Clearly magic was involved, but before I could inquire further, a blur of gold flashed by the chariot window, catching me off guard and causing me to topple over in the seat. As I squirmed myself into position once again, the door opened on the chariot, an orange pony with wings and a blue jumpsuit gliding alongside us.

“We’ll need to perform a security check before we can allow you to land, please do not be alarmed!” The pegasus yelled over the whistling of the wind. The sound of hoofsteps on the roof of the carriage indicated that some other pegasi were investigating our belongings on the roof rack. The hoofsteps stopped as two more pegasi flew down from the roof and began gliding alongside the first, giving him a nod to confirm everything was okay.

“Excellent, you’re cleared for landing. Have a safe trip, sirs!” As the trio fell away, the stagecoach banked left and swung itself around for landing, the descent being somewhat more rapid than I had been anticipating, which is to say that my kidneys were suddenly becoming very well acquainted with my throat by the time we hit solid ground.

“Shall we then?” Fancypants asked.  I nodded and clambered out of the stagecoach, stretching for a good 5 minutes before I felt right again. From the looks of it, the island had been concealing a small area underneath the surface where the private runway was located. A small walkway connected said platform to a small cavern which had been carved out of the rock. Assuming this was the only place to go, Fancypants and I briskly made our way inside, the guards circling us from above to make sure we weren’t up to no good.

As we entered the cavern, the face of a building lit up in a sea of lights, a set of sliding automatic doors embedded into the front. We both stepped inside, a small set of kiosks greeting us as we went in. Behind one of them sat a beige-coated mare flicking through a magazine with her face on her free hoof. We walked up and cleared our throats simultaneously to catch the mare’s attention. She looked up at us with sleepy eyes and gave me a quick scanning over. “Sorry, doll. You'll have to wait 'till morning to be allowed through.”

I took pity on the receptionist somewhat. Having to stay out here just to make sure nothing goes awry with an already protected portal? It seemed like the bottommost rung on society’s ladder.  Luckily, despite the sleepy-looking mare brushing us off, Fancypants had me covered. He pulled out some form of passport or identification and slid it in front of her. Her eyes lit up as it passed her nose, and suddenly she was very much awake. “Sorry for the trouble sirs, go right on through!” I had to admit, I was pretty impressed with the power Fancypants seemed to hold. She grabbed my hand and with a loud and painful “thump” emblazoned it with a stamp of some sort.

She gestured towards a rather spacious-looking elevator, which me and my companion wasted no time making use of. With a press of the single button on the interior panel, the doors shut gently as we descended into the bowels of the island. During this time, I turned towards Fancypants, an eyebrow raised and an incredulous look on my face. “And you say I’m impressive! How on earth did you do that?” Being able to shrug off inspections with such ease was amazing, I had to admit. It was like Fancypants was some sort of cross between John Cleese’s accent and James Bond’s impressionability.

“Connections are key in all walks of life, Mr. Chase. It just so happens that mine give me a little freedom to do what I like.” Fancypants presented his passport to me, the most noticeable aspect of it being that there was a small symbol emblazoned on the lower right hand corner, an insignia of two letters, DE, and a small picture of a cube underneath.

“And with whom might you be connected, may I ask?”

“A very up-and-coming businessman. Nobody knows his name, only that everybody calls him “Stairs.” He’s a fine gentleman, much like yourself, I’ll be sure to put in a good word for you.” Put in a good word for me? Was Fancypants trying to recruit me for some secret organisation? I felt like calling him out on this, but a little voice in the back of my head told me not to. “Let him talk to this boss of his.” It said. “If it’s anything suspicious, we’ll have him right where we want him.” I chuckled in lieu of a better response. Fancypants was probably the CEO of some large company, likely getting his benefits as a result, alongside extravagant modes of transport, I’d mention. I was getting paranoid and cranky after that long journey, that was all.

That still didn’t excuse the orange juice, the cheapskate.

The elevator’s arrival at its destination was signified by the sudden returning of gravity on my person, where a feeling of lightness had once taken its place. The door parted, releasing a bright ethereal glow from the other side, momentarily blinding me as my eyes adjusted from the artificial lights in the elevator. A few seconds passed in which my vision returned to me, allowing me to grasp what I was seeing in front of me.

The portal was a magnificent sight to behold. Resembling a galaxy in appearance but seeming almost twice as bright. The sound of the wind running through the cave filled the air, but from what I could see of the large hollow, there was no opening to the outside world beyond the elevator itself. Therefore it was fair to assume that the portal was whipping up the breeze which blew through the cave.

Fancypants and I stepped outside the elevator, the sound of the metal plates underfoot reverberating slightly around the cave. I gazed down at the long staircase constructed of similar metal plates, taking note of how the foundations were nestled deeply into the rock underneath. Before I could observe further, however, a rather cheery voice spoke up from beside me.

“Welcome to Neo Equinenox, gents!” My heart leapt slightly as I turned to my left, a light grey pony with golden armour similar to that of the pegasus patrol beaming from ear to ear having appeared at my side. “If you’ll kindly follow me, I’ll show you to the entrance. Watch your step, though! If you trip down these stairs you’re gonna have a long time to say goodbye!” He chuckled, getting a snicker out of me as well.

As we made our way down the steps, I couldn’t help but ponder the name which our guide had dropped. Neo Equinenox? It was an odd name with any number of meanings. Several ran through my head, but I wouldn’t bore you with the details. It did strike me as odd that the name hadn’t been publicly announced, or even mentioned for that matter. I imagine if if had, Vieri wouldn’t have been calling it “The Shred” back in London. I put this down to a simple oversight on the behalf of the media, but part of me still wasn’t entirely convinced.

I might have been more thoughtful about the subject at the time, but I couldn’t concentrate in this environment, especially not when the rest of the cavern had so much to look at. Several walkways had been erected on the sides of the cavern, with artificial lighting keeping them lit. Their support beams sat wedged between stalagmites, while stalactites sat precariously above, some having been cut away to make some headroom for the walkways. Steel girders spread around the walls like an industrial spider web, presumably reducing the chances of the cavern falling to bits. Running up them, large thick pieces of wire snaked and coiled onto the various walkways and platforms, presumably keeping any and all safety and research equipment up and running. I couldn’t help but ponder where they were getting so much electricity from in the first place.

As we came ever closer to the portal, I began to take notice of a strange feeling buzzing in the air. It was as though a small electric charge had shot up my body, sending vibrations running through every part of my being.

“Whoops! Better cover your eyes, sirs!” Not one to question persons with greater understanding than I, I shielded my sockets as a bright pink flash resonated throughout the cavern, so strong was it that I could see and feel it’s intensity despite having covered my delicate retinas. As my hand shrunk away from my face, I gasped as I noticed a large pink bubble had erected itself around the portal.

Seeing as this new friend of ours was more in the know than I, I decided to pick his brain for a while as we continued down the numerous steps. “I say, Mister…”

“Lockenkey. But by all means, Lock is fine, sir.”

“Oh, thank you. Anyway, Mr. Lock, what in hells bells is that thing?”

Lockenkey swiped a pebble from beside the walkway and tossed it towards the large pink bubble. “Magical security system, sir! You’d best make sure that stamp of yours is on good and firm, or you might end up like this!” As he finished his sentence, the pebble rebounded off the bubble and shot across the cavern, ricocheting around the walls before finally losing its momentum and coming to a stop.

“That’s… terrifying.”

“Positively! That’s why the higher-ups left me in charge of keeping the portal safe, y’see. Don’t want anypony flying off into a wall on our account, do we?”

“I should imagine not!” It suddenly occurred to me that while Lockenkey had introduced himself, I had failed to do the same. I swapped my suitcase into my other hand and extended my free one towards the stallion. “Ah yes, how rude of me. Donovan Chase, P.I. It’s a pleasure to have met you, Mr. Lock.”

My new friend smiled and raised a hoof up to my hand as we greeted each other formally. “And you, sir! Not very often we guards get to have a chat, after all. Too many people during the day for that.”

“Perhaps it’s all the better that we came early then, Mr. Chase!” Fancypants added, ending his little period of silence. He didn’t seem as talkative after my story, not that I was complaining.

After what seemed like a never-ending trek to the floor of the cavern, our feet and hooves finally met solid ground in the form of more bloody steel plates. The main flooring area of the cavern was a large, open space with plenty of light coming from the portal to keep the place lit up. Large tables, computing devices and filing cabinets lined the floor, all kept under, surprise, surprise, lock and key. It seemed that when it came to keeping people out of things they weren’t meant to see, Lockenkey was simply the best there was. The key ring he wore on his plated flank, adorned with a thick row of keys of various shapes, proved that much.

With an air of finality surrounding him, Lockenkey ran ahead of us, turned around just before reaching the portal and gave us a bow. “And here we are, sirs! May your journey to Equestria be a pleasant one!”

“And may your night shift be just as peaceful! It must be hellish working until such a time of night.” I added. A simple nod was Lock’s response as he carefully watched us approach the bubble. I looked down at Fancypants, who didn’t look quite as distressed as me, probably due to the fact that he’d done this all before. Still, the image of that pebble shooting off reverberated in my skull, and lingered with me as I stretched out a hand to the portal…

…And fell right on through the bubble. I had felt nothing, and was somewhat let down by the whole ordeal, albeit very relieved at the same time. Regaining my composure, I hoisted my suitcase into my other hand as Fancypants and I ascended the wide steps which led to the portal, stopping briefly to exchange a few words before we went.

“Ready, Mr. Chase?”

“Part of me seems to think so, anyway.”

“That sounds like a “yes” to me!” Fancypants beamed as he shoved me into the portal before him. The last thing I saw was the world fade to white and swirl into the centre of my vision, as though being sucked down a plug hole.

Little did I know that this was going to be the start of a very long and... interesting... journey, the likes of which were going to be a lot more arduous than I previously imagined.