“The prisoner is ready for questioning, sir.”
The captain nodded. "Excellent. Has he said anything already?"
"No, sir. Denies all charges."
"All charges?"
"All charges. Outright refuses to acknowledge anything to do with the incident. Despite of course for the fact that we practically caught him in the act. He's guilty as anything, he hasn't got a chance."
"Hmm... Still, it's not him we're concerned about. This is a very serious case." Leaning forward on his desk, the captain took one final sip from his mug before setting it down, the magical aura around it dissipating. "Very serious indeed. I trust you understand the seriousness of our situation."
"Of course, sir. Seriously serious."
"Exactly, lieutenant," he said approvingly. "It couldn't be seriouser."
The lieutenant straightened himself. "In our line of work, sir, in the protection of the people, we must deal with each and every case with the utmost care and diligence. I can assure you we will detain all those responsible."
"I'm serious." The captain paused, meeting his lieutenant's eyes in an attempt to communicate the seriousness of the situation. "Our prisoner holds some exceedingly valuable information. Information that the Crown would find very useful indeed." The captain reclined into his cushion, levitating his mug with him. "We need this information, lieutenant. By any means necessary."
"Yes sir."
"Any means, lieutenant. Do you understand me?"
The lieutenant barely managed to restrain recoiling in shock. "Any, sir?"
The captain nodded slowly. "Yes. This information is too important. Any method you see fit, use it."
The lower-ranking guard swallowed. "Good lord, that is serious."
"You can stop saying that now."
"Yes sir. Sorry sir."
___
The two guards stood to attention as their superior trotted down the dungeon stairs. Lieutenant Silver Wing nodded at the two uniformed unicorns before turning his attention to the cell door behind them. Solid iron and windowless, and set snugly into the stone walls, the dungeon doors were nigh-impenetrable even to the most able of escapologists. The frame, the hinges, even the small eye-height sliding hatch were saturated in wards to prevent unauthorised access.
“Any news?” Silver Wing asked, shifting his wings slightly at the cold. Hs wings were actually white, as was the rest of his coat. He just put his name down to having over-exuberant parents.
“No sir,” the guard on the right answered. Shimmer-something, his name was. Even amongst the guards, they often blended in together while on duty. “Not heard a peep from ‘im since you left sir.”
Not entirely unexpected, though by this point some criminals would often find themselves ranting and raving about how it wasn’t fair, how “it weren’t me what done it, officer,” the odd few occasionally reduced to tears. Some, yes, but most prefer to be left to stew. Silver Wing knew it wasn’t his place to judge. He just did what he was told.
“Right, lads, Corporal Freeform will be arriving shortly with a very special delivery, so make sure to let him in. In the meantime, I’d like to warm up the guest before proceedings get underway.”
Saluting, the guard on Silver’s left, a bulky stallion whose name the lieutenant had never asked, enveloped the iron door in a magical aura. With a click, it unlocked, and swung open. With one final nod to his subordinates, Silver Wing stepped inside.
The cell very much continued the dungeon theme that was prevalent with much of the castle’s underground system. A magicrystal lamp hung from the ceiling, casting a light glow onto the heavy table anchored into the floor in the dead centre of the room. On the closest side of the table to him was a cushion. His cushion. Placed there specifically for the comfort of his posterior. Silver Wing placed his posterior on the cushion.
The far side of the table was by far the more interesting one. Sitting directly opposite him was a pony, a youngster having barely reached stallionhood. He was lightish-yellow in colour with a green mane and greener eyes. His cutie mark was concealed by the table he had been hoof-cuffed to, but his file claimed it was a hammer. His eyes followed Silver Wing carefully, though the youngster was having difficulty keeping the nervousness off his countenance. While seemingly trying to hide it, he looked thoroughly uncomfortable. It was probably because he didn’t have a comfy cushion.
Silver Wing removed his helmet, letting his long, regulation-blue mane fall free of its metal confines. The helmet was placed on the table. Seemed to unnerve the offenders that little bit more, he’d noticed. He suppressed a sigh, then pulled out a small folder from under his right wing and got straight down to work.
“Let’s do this from the top. Name?”
The earth pony blinked. “Rusty Nail.”
“I’m a Royal Guard. I’ll have a ‘sir’ off you, thank you very much.”
Rusty frowned. “Rusty Nail, sir.”
“Shut it. Occupation?”
“Metallurgist. S-sir.”
“Excellent.” Silver Wing looked behind him to the open door for a moment, before turning back to the pony opposite him, opening the folder. “Rusty Nail, you’re being charged with multiple accounts of causing bodily harm to other ponies, multiple accounts of attempting to cause bodily harm to other ponies, causing grievous bodily harm to a number of Royal Guards both on-duty and off-duty, resisting arrest, attempting to resist arrest for however long it took you running around before you actually got arrested, further attempts to resist arrest by making loud and obnoxious noises, further attempts to resist arrest by making loud and noxious smells, attempting the act of taking things that don’t belong to you, and attempting to assist in the process, escape and soon-to-be-short-lived success of a small number of other ponies in the same act of taking things that don’t belong to them either.” Silver Wing quirked an eyebrow at the prisoner. “What have you got to say for yourself?”
Rusty wasted no time with tactics. “It wasn’ me what done it, officer,” he said, almost in a deadpan.
Silver Wing held back a smirk. “Oh, wasn’t it?”
“Nah, I wasn’ even there, I wasn’ doin’ nothin’.”
“We have very accurate intelligence that places you at-”
“I didn’ do it!” Rusty shouted. He would have taken the table with him when he jumped forward, cuffed as he was to it, were it not for the fact that it was set directly into the stone floor.
Silver Wing sighed. The worst ones were the ones who deny everything, no matter the instance. “Mr Nails, I was there at the bank myself. I saw you fleeing from the scene with a particularly guilty look on your face. You ran, and you ran, and you ran, and after about three metres I caught you.”
“Yeah, well so what? I don’ have nothin’ on me! If you keep me here, it’s wrongful ‘prisonment!”
‘Imprisonment,’ Silver Wing corrected mentally, but restrained from doing so verbally. “Mr Nails, I’m sure I don’t have to remind you that assaulting and stealing four-and-a-half billion bits from the Canterlot Royal Mint is a very serious crime.”
“I-”
“Very serious, Mr Nails,” Silver Wing growled. “In fact, it couldn’t be seriouser.”
“...What?”
Silver Wing sat back on his comfy cushion. “Now, you’re going to tell us who your accomplices are, and where they’ve hidden the four-and-a-half billion.”
Rusty scowled, moving to cross his hooves over his chest before the chains on the cuffs stopped him. “Yeah? Who says I know anything?”
“I have interrogated hundreds of petty criminals over the years,” Silver Wing said in a neutral tone. “In case you’re interested in going into theatre, I can tell you not to bother. You’re a terrible actor.”
Immediately forming his countenance into a blank poker-face, Rusty Nails fell silent. That usually meant somepony was trying to hide something, and were very bad at hiding the fact that they were hiding something. The lieutenant felt gratified to have been proven right.
When no response was forthcoming, he continued, “So, we know you have the information. All that remains is for you to tell us. Simple as that.” He felt a smug smirk bubbling up, and managed to stifle it before it could show. “The sooner you tell us, the sooner we can all be on our respective ways.”
After a long pause, the prisoner hesitantly spoke up. “What happens to me if I tell you?”
“You go to prison for as long as the judge sees fit, combined with whatever fine the judge sees fit, and community service. Should the judge see fit. It’s all up to the judge, really.”
Rusty looked as if he’d just been slapped. “To heck with that, I’m not telling you anything.”
The lieutenant shrugged. “Suit yourself.” The sound of hooves echoed behind him, signalling the arrival of another pony. “We have ways of making you talk.”
He turned to the newcomers, a light-blue pegasus stallion in standard lower-ranking steel armour, and a unicorn mare, perhaps one of the castle staff. The unicorn was levitating a pair of large metal boxes, and was visibly straining from the effort, casting a questioning glance his way.
“Just plonk them down wherever,” Silver Wing said, gesturing around the room. Almost immediately, the metal boxes dropped to the ground with a pair of almighty ‘thunks’. Her heavy breathing fluttering her bangs in front of her half-closed eyes, the mare almost crawled out of the room, followed by a groan when she reached the dungeon stairs. Any further unprofessionalism was obscured by the sound of the iron door slamming shut. The blue pegasus pushed the two boxes together facing the table, and stood to attention.
A fretful look on his face, Rusty nodded to the boxes. “W-what’s in them?” he asked.
Silver Wing levelled his gaze at the prisoner’s eyes. “Play this right, and you needn’t find out. Now, who are your accomplices?”
“I don’t know what-”
“Where is the money?”
“I don’t know-”
“Corporal!” Silver Wing shouted suddenly. “Open the first box!”
The corporal saluted, then leaned down and opened the box with a hoof and stood back to attention in one practiced move. Rusty’s eyes widened, for inside the box... Inside the box was...
Silver Wing nodded curtly. “I see you are now aware of your predicament. Are you going to help us now, or shall we continue?”
The criminal began tugging at his chains in panic, trying in vain to break free from his dungeon. “You can’ do this to me! This ain’ legal!”
“I assure you I have orders from the very top.”
Rusty could only squeak in response, the rustling of his hoof-cuff chains becoming more and more frantic. beside the corporal were two metal boxes. One was closed. Inside the other was a small, magicrystal-powered, silver fridge. Now that the front of the box had been opened, a gentle humming filled the room, letting the more observant ponies amongst them know that the fridge was indeed powered on.
Silver Wing set his face into a slight scowl, eyes never leaving the emerald orbs before him. The expression tended to help with these sorts of situations. Situations he unfortunately found himself in far too often for his liking. Nevertheless, it was his duty to do what he must. “Now, have you anything to share with us?”
“N-no!” The prisoner stammered.
“Who are your accomplices?”
“I-I- No!”
“Where is the money?”
“I don’t know!”
“Corporal! Fetch the oven mittens and the large tongs with the rusty hinges!“ the lieutenant bellowed. Saluting once more, the blue pegasus trotted over to the iron door and knocked. After a moment, the door swung inward, and the pegasus disappeared through it, reappearing but a few seconds later with a pair of pink, frilly oven mitts over both forehooves, and some heavy-looking metal tongs in his mouth. He stood back in his place and snapped to attention just as the door slammed back shut.
Watching the whole performance with a horrified look on his face, Rusty Nails seemed unable to take his eyes off the corporal. “W- what’s the tongs for?” His question was barely above a whisper.
“Well, Mr Nails? Have any revelations in the past few moments?”
Rusty shook his head furiously, lip quivering. “What are you g-gonna do to me?”
“Who are your ac-”
“I DON’ KNOW!” the earth pony bellowed.
“Where is the money?”
“I don’... please!”
“Corporal!” For the first time since the lower-ranked guard had entered, Silver Wing turned to look at the other pegasus. “Open the fridge!”
“Nooo! No-no-no! Don’ open the fridge! Don’ open the fridge!”
The corporal opened the fridge.
“Noooooo! Noooo-hoo-hooo!” Rusty wailed, for inside the fridge, almost concealed now by the cold fridge-mist, was row-upon-row of green fizzy drinks cans. Small crystals of ice clung to the cans, with larger snow-like mounds lurking in the corners of the fridge.
The lieutenant rested both forehooves on the table, leaning forward. “Mr Nails, we know that you know what we need to know, and that you know that we need to know what we need to know and why. So, I’m going to ask you one final time.” His eyes glinted dangerously. “If you do not comply, things with proceed to get very uncomfortable for you. Do you understand?”
It was difficult to tell whether the rapid movements of Rusty’s head were that of nodding in agreement, or that of shaking in fear and cold.
“Do you understand, Mr Nails?”
Rusty gulped. “W-whaa... What’s th-the other box for?”
Silver Wing leaned back into his comfy cushion again, “I suppose you’ll see shortly. Final chance. Anything you want to confess?”
In response, Rusty just shook his head side-to-side, seemingly unable to trust himself to speak.
Silver Wing nodded, standing up and circling around to his colleague. “So be it. Corporal! You may begin.”
“N-n-no-no...”
Saluting again, the corporal took the large tongs between the oven mitts and carefully, ever-so carefully, picked up the nearest drinks can and took it out of the fridge, maneuvering it as if it were a dangerously unstable material.
“Nononono please no!”
“You will tell us what we want to hear.”
“Nonono-nono..”
“You will tell us, Mr Nails...”
“No, you can’t, please!”
“Or this fizzy drinks can will be pressed against your face...”
“No no no plea-hea-hease!!”
“And the information will be forced out of you.”
“I don’... I wasn’... No!” Rusty Nails was practically frothing at the mouth. “You can’t do this to me!”
“Oh, but I can!” Silver Wing proclaimed, unbridled glee evident in his voice. “I can, Mr Nails!” The lieutenant approached the remaining unopened metal box. “And what’s more, we can do it over, and over, and over! For you see, we have but fifteen fizzy drinks cans available, and over time as they are pressed against your face, they will begin to warm.”
Behind his tears, a spark of hope was lit in the eyes of the broken Rusty Nails. “Y-you mean... The- the cans will warm u-up?” He sniffed. “They w-won’ be cold n-no more?”
Silver Wing smiled. “Yes, Mr Nails. The used cans will be warm. And we can’t put them back in that fridge, can we?” Hesitantly, the earth pony shook his head.
The lieutenant opened the door to the second metal box. Inside was another fridge. The fridge was empty. “This, Mr Nails!” Silver Wing proclaimed. “This is where we will put the used cans! A second fridge!”
“No...”
“The used cans will cool down again, separately to the first fridge, until they too reach the optimum torture-temperature of fizzy drinks cans!”
“No!”
“Yes, Mr Nails! Then the cans will be used all over again!”
“No! No!”
“Corporal! Press the fizzy drinks can against his face!”
“Noooooooo!”
___
One way or another, the Royal Guards got the job done. They protected the people of Equestria from each and every threat, foreign and domestic. They did their duty to best of their ability. They upheld the law, the justice, and the will of the Crown.
One way or another.
