LP Noire

If you make your career based on watching the shadows, you better be ready to catch them.

If you dedicate your life to stopping the evil of corruption, you had better be fast.

The shadows don't willingly surrender. They flee. They rush. Always rush. Without a second thought. Only those who are just as fast, just as cunning, just as determined can catch them.

But who's to say whether you're ready and able enough to catch them? What counts as good enough to chase them? Shadows don't stay the same. They always change, always evolve.

Just for the sake of flying.

"Come on, Palmer!"

"No."

"Please?"

"No."

"Please? Come on, just answer my question in the beginning at least-"

"I said no and no means no."

Dune rolled her eyes. "Come on, what's the big deal with telling me?"

"I said I don't want to talk about it and that means I don't want to talk about it."

"I don't get it. What's the fuss about me asking you what the war-"

"Listen, how do you keep a friend?" asked Palmer irritably. Dune tapped her chin thoughtfully for a moment as Palmer drove them down the street in their Patrol car.

"I don't know. Pay attention to them?" responded Dune after a moment's worth of thought.

It was Palmer's turn to roll his eyes now. "No. The way you keep a friend is to not discuss certain topics. Politics. Ethics. Who's the best princess. In my case, the war is included on that list."

Dune nodded. "So... who's your favorite princess?"

"You're insufferable," replied Palmer.

"Hey, it's my job," joked Dune. Palmer shook his head again and stopped at a red light.

Just as he did so, another car suddenly sped through the street intersecting the one he was on. The driver clipped two cars and rear-ended another, sending it spinning out of control. Without stopping, the car continued down the street.

"Whoa, looks like we got a speeder here!" Dune laughed in anticipation.

"Feels like we should get more stuff like this," Palmer murmured as he reached for the siren control.

"Yeah, but feel glad. Means we don't have to deal with a lot then," replied Dune over the warble of the siren.

Palmer turned right onto the intersecting street, following the speeder. He floored the accelerator and rushed after his quarry, dodging a lamp post, a mailbox, and two other cars strewn in the street, left behind in the destructive wake of the speeder. Meanwhile, the driver was turning left onto 8th Street. Palmer reached over to the radio.

"M-LEL, this is car 12-Abbey. We have a speeder, down at Orange Avenue. Driver's turning onto 8th Street. Send down more units, it's causing a substantial amount of damage.  Recommend Code 3, over."

The radio clicked and squawked static for a moment before a response came through. "Copy that 12-Abbey. All Will Fire Patrol Units, be advised, we have a speeder down Orange Avenue. Should be considered hazardous. Any available units, move in to intercept, Code 3, over."

Palmer quickly braked and turned, drifting into 8th Street. He gunned down the road, following the still speeding car past several cars stopped in the middle of the road, their drivers dazed and furious.

"You know, I hate it when these bastards start running," ranted Dune. "Where do they think they're going to go, anyway? It's not like they can just teleport themselves somewhere else."

"I don't know. Maybe the driver's drunk or something. Besides, can't really blame them for trying, right?" Palmer swerved past another parked car in the middle of the road, narrowly missing the driver, who was still indignantly shaking her hoof at the speeder.

"I think they should all realize that even if they try, they're not going anywhere. Makes life easy on us and them. We save time. They save their car and themselves a beating."

"Please, no brutality. We're already getting enough complaints about that."

Meanwhile another siren sounded from nearby and a Patrol car swerved in from another street, joining with Palmer and Dune.

The speeder, meanwhile, skidded and turned to the right hastily, heading down Cherry Avenue.

"M-LEL, this is Unit 12-Abbey, update on the chase, speeder is now moving south on Cherry Avenue." Dune flicked off the microphone again.

"Roger that, 12-Abbey, 3 units have been staked out at 6th and Cherry. All units not participating in the Will Fire chase, stand by, Code 4. The driver will most likely be caught."

Palmer turned at the corner with the other Patrol car and together they sped down Cherry Avenue. Down the street, the siren lights from the blockade ahead of them flashed brightly. Palmer started decelerating in expectation that the speeder would do the same. The speeder didn't seem to show any indication in slowing down and Palmer watched in surprise as the officers in the makeshift blockade cleared away from the path of the incoming car. As the car closed in on the blockade, the driver braked suddenly. The vehicle began skidding and it turned to the right, drifting straight into the blockade. Right as it was about to crash with the Patrol car in the middle, the driver bailed out.

Palmer meanwhile had closed the distance and stopped as the driver got up. The car had crashed right through the middle Patrol car and was resting next to it, belching out smoke from its ruptured hood. The driver, a mare, took a moment to look around her and quickly began running, ducking into a nearby alley.

"Oh, no way! She's trying to make a run for it!" exclaimed Dune.

"Can you handle the car? I'll run after her," suggested Palmer, preparing to open his door.

"Yeah, yeah, just do whatever!" yelled Dune, already lifting herself from her seat to shift over.

Palmer quickly jumped out and started running after the suspect, ducking into the same alley. Two other officers nearby joined him and the three moved down the alleyway. Palmer looked around for a while before one of the officers cried out, "There she is!"

They all turned in the direction that the officer was pointing to and noticed the speeder, who yelped and turned to run again.

"Stop! L-double-PD!" yelled Palmer. The mare scooped up something as she ran and threw it behind her. Palmer ducked to avoid the object, which was a bottle of cider, but the officer behind him wasn't so lucky. The bottle hit her in the face and she stopped for a second, rubbing her nose, before she resumed the chase. Palmer and the other officer didn't wait for her and they turned to the right, following the still fleeing mare. She stopped at a fence in front of her.

"Nowhere left to run now! Surrender!" cried out the officer next to Palmer. The mare turned back to them and back to the fence, in a moment of indecision. She then jumped and started scaling up the obstacle, using the chain links as a sort of hoof hold.

"Okay, now this is just getting stupid," said the officer behind Palmer breathlessly. The three quickly jumped on the fence and began climbing after her. The officer who was next to Palmer slipped on one of the links and had to stop to regain his hoofing, while Palmer and the other officer climbed over and dropped to the ground. The mare was still running and was about to turn left and exit when a Patrol car pulled in. She stumbled and continued running down the alleyway while Palmer and the other officer continued chasing her. As she was about to come out of the alley, another Patrol car pulled in, with Dune at the wheel.

"How do you like that?" asked Dune as the mare stopped.

"We've got her!" called out the officer that was in the passenger seat. The mare however, looked to her left and jumped onto the ladder on the fire escape next to her.

"Or not," muttered Palmer. He quickly jumped onto the ladder after the mare, climbing after her.

"You really don't have to do this!" Palmer yelled to the mare, who was already on the first platform and was moving to climb the stairs. Palmer pulled himself onto the first platform himself, while the officer below him started climbing on the ladder as well. Not even halfway, the metal groaned loudly and the ladder came down, along with the officer, who crashed on the ground. The stallion behind them stopped and bent down over the groaning mare on the ground.

Meanwhile, Palmer started jumping up the stairs of the fire escape, as the mare ahead did the same on her way to the top.

"How about this!" Dune yelled. She took out her pistol, loaded a magazine in it, and started firing. The bullets mostly pinged off the metal of the fire escape, but Palmer felt one zip by his mane. The draft lifted some of his hair and he ducked instinctively to avoid more bullets.

"Jeez, Dune, watch your fire!" called out Palmer as he climbed up to the last platform and jumped onto the roof, where he spotted the mare still running. Palmer quickly made after her, dodging a vent and leaping over a small wall. Meanwhile, the mare had reached the edge of the roof.

"Alright, that's quite enough-" began Palmer, but apparently, it wasn't. The mare jumped and Palmer rushed to the edge and looked down. The mare had caught the edge of a lower building, just barely making it to the building on the other side of the alley, but she pulled herself up and kept running.

Palmer sighed, backed up a few steps, and took a running leap off the building. Fortunately, he landed on the next building with some room to spare and quickly rolled to continue the forward momentum and prevent an injury. The mare had already reached the far edge of the building, which overlooked 6th Street. The buildings on the other side were a dozen meters apart, so there was no turning back. She stopped, looked down, and back at Palmer, who was still running toward her.

"Nowhere left to run," said Palmer breathlessly. The culprit thought the same, because she looked around, spotted a pipe nearby, and picked it up. She swung it around a couple of times to test it and brought it in a batting position.

Reminded forcibly of Grease, Palmer tried to approach her carefully. "Look, if you'd just stop-" He ducked as the mare tried to hit him with a heavy swing. At this point, he felt his patience had been tried enough. He stood up on his hind legs, ready to fight back.

The mare moved forward and tried another, lighter swing, but Palmer dodged and countered quickly with a hook and a straight punch, staggering her heavily. Palmer didn't wait and stepped forward, knocking her makeshift weapon out of her hoof by hitting it with a blow and following with another punch. The mare tripped on her own hind legs and fell backwards onto the floor. Palmer exhaled and landed on all fours on the ground again. He placed a hoof on the mare and she froze.

After a few seconds of silence, two pegasi officers dropped down from the sky unnoticed and landed on the roof alongside Palmer and the mare. They looked at each other in turn and then back to the mare.

"That the speeder?" asked one of the officers.

"Yes," replied Palmer, still short on breath.

"All right, get off her, we'll take care of it."

The mare struggled with her cuffs on her front hooves as two officers pushed her into the prison transport van. She looked rueful and frustrated as she sat down on the hard, metal benches and looked down at the floor. The officers closed the doors, got into the cab of the van, started the engine, and were off back to the station.

Palmer watched them go and suddenly felt some thumps on his back as Dune reached his side.

"Nice one, Palmer. Didn't think you'd actually get her."

"Thanks for the optimism," he said, but he smiled nonetheless. Dune didn't miss this.

"Come on," she said, nodding back to their car. "We should get back and report this."

Las Pegasus Police Department

Patrol Officer's Performance Report

The concerned officer Pelt Palmer has shown:

High Physical Fitness

Final Assessment: Passable

The bus ride took a total of six hours. The route cut through rough, precipitous mountain roads and alongside shallow yet rapid rivers that were choked with dirt and could have easily swept away any unprepared and hapless swimmer. Once or twice, pegasi could be seen flitting through the low clouds that floated around the mountains, though the only real sign of weather manipulation training was the occasional flash of lightning and the accompanying roar of thunder from the larger cumulonimbus clouds higher above in the sky.

Inside the bus, the ponies inside chatted to pass away the time, ignoring the harrowing turns on the mountain path and the heavy bumps and rolls of the wheels across the unpaved road. Dill, however, was looking out the window, studying the landscape with a stoic expression on his face, but his eyes suggested a little hint of melancholy. Palmer, who was sitting next to him, was talking with Bright Ash, who was sitting across from the two. Both of them had already decided to leave Dill alone, as earlier attempts to get him to talk only lead him to glare at the two in silence.

Bright Ash had a seemingly nonchalant tone in his voice, but his barely concealed smile and his widened eyes all pointed towards his excited anticipation.

"Yeah, I would have actually joined, but, you know, age restrictions," he said with a bored wave of his hoof, but he still chuckled. Palmer rolled his eyes.

"We already expected that," he said in mild exasperation. Ash seemed surprised.

"What? Whose 'we'?" he asked sharply. Palmer snorted in amusement at his serious change in demeanor.

"You know, the class. Don't get upset or anything..." Ash cocked an eyebrow dubiously. "...but with your grades and all, plus the fact that you seemed so interested in the Royal Guard, well, we really thought it was only a matter of time."

"And everypony was in on this?" Ash asked, comically aghast. Palmer laughed while Dill turned around.

"If it makes you feel any better, Ash, I didn't believe the other guys."

Ash brightened and sat up straighter. "Really?"

Dill shrugged. "Sure. I was the one who thought you were going to end up as a no-life."

"Thanks," Ash replied sarcastically, while Palmer's eyes streamed from laughter. "That makes me feel so much better."

"Anytime," said Dill with a shrug. The three of them fell silent, however, when the bus passed over another bend and offered them a vista of their destination.

The Royal Guard base was set in a wide yet small valley, on a tall and ridged plateau. Two low yet steep mountains walled the base in from the sides, providing a natural defense from wind and potential enemies. A large cliff ran down behind it, leaving the only opening to it in the west. The plateau itself was rather large, but there were very few buildings, with only seven barracks, a mess hall, a supply facility, and the command office, which was the only multistory structure in the collection. The buildings themselves were packed in the far northwest corner of the base, with space on the plateau for a flagpole, with no flag, an air pad, presumably to allow pegasi to drop supplies, and lots and lots of training ground.

Everypony else on the bus slowly stopped talking as well. Although they didn't admit it to others directly, they all felt a foreboding sense of finality upon seeing the base. At this point, there was absolutely no turning back, though each of them reminded themselves resentfully that they couldn't if they even wanted to. Palmer knew that Ash was the only one who didn't share the same feelings. Even Dill eyed the base warily, tapping his hind leg absentmindedly. Palmer turned back to the base and studied it carefully. Although he didn't believe much in hope and luck, he felt that he would very much like to have both on his side.

Thousands of miles away from the valley where the Royal Guard base was set, Logistical Adviser Ramble dodged his way through the streets in Canterlot, though his Royal Guard helmet, with its tall plume, and his large build made him easy to spot as he weaved along the sidewalks.

Although the day was fair and bright, Ramble didn't have time to enjoy the weather. As soon as he hit the street corner, he verified his position by looking at the signs and turned right, continuing down the lane he was on. He walked at a brisk, almost frightened pace and glanced over his back every few minutes, as though afraid he was being watched.

Ramble's destination soon arrived: a lofty and ornate tower that rose in the middle of the line of buildings to his right. It spiraled straight to the top, where an observation post was placed neatly on the side to overlook the larger part of the city. In the spirit of Canterlot architecture, several additional parts extended and curved up almost haphazardly out of the sides. The tower's position was that so the sun made the structure glint from the side it shone on.

Although the War Council Center was placed right out in the middle of the city, where he could be followed, Ramble couldn't really complain. If the War Council met in the castle, he would probably have to submit to half an hour's worth of security examinations and background checks, with the few interrogations here and there. Only during ceremonies were these onerous security measures lifted so that audiences could gather.

Ramble silently and smoothly slid into the tower as soon as he got close and stepped into the entrance hallway, which lead into a narrow yet long and tall lobby. Both ends of the cavernous room sported windows that reached to the ceiling, allowing the sun to light up the lobby with no trouble. The floor was made of marble which gleamed in the light; the walls were rough and gravelly. A long line of low bushes with blooming flowers ran across the middle of the room, with benches here and there set for visitors to wait.

The adviser was hardly there for visiting however; he had urgent business. Urgent meaning a message was sent to him to arrive at the Council in only less than ten minutes time. It was hardly a power walk, but Ramble couldn't help but feel a little frustrated at getting a short notice. He crossed the lobby in only a few seconds and arrived at the front desk, where a young mare was sitting attentively. She stood up as soon as he reached the desk.

"Business?" she asked, already bending to pick up the pen with her mouth and writing in Ramble's arrival.

"Yes. Is the Council in session already?" he asked anxiously. The mare nodded and put down the pen.

"They've been in about five minutes. I suggest you sign up quick and get in there." She nodded toward the registration book sitting on the counter in front of Ramble. He picked up a pen from a nearby cup and signed his name and the date in.

"Be careful in there," the mare whispered as Ramble placed the pen back in its cup. "The Council seems to be a bit... agitated. They'll be looking to take off somepony's head soon."

"I'll keep that in mind," replied Ramble calmly, but he gulped all the same. He spun on his hooves and began walking down the hallway to his right, which slanted and spiraled downward.

Compared to the lobby, the hallway was darker and a lot smaller. Lanterns hung from the roof at regular intervals with small, flickering, orange fires that didn't light the hallway completely enough and threw a long, deep shadow from Ramble's figure as he progressed lower and lower down the building.

Finally, Ramble arrived at the bottom of the hallway, where he stood in front of a pair of heavy, metal doors that contrasted harshly with the rough granite walls of the hallway. The words "Royal Guard War Council" were etched stylishly in the burnished steel, a prime example of the Royal Guard's grace and form providing a thin disguise for roughness and aggressiveness.

As Ramble stood outside the doors, he started to feel nervous sweat running down the back of his head. Maybe the job wasn't such a good idea... No. It wasn't simple ambivalence about his position. It was the fear of facing some of the most powerful members of the Guard; individuals who could probably terminate his record and even his life if they felt like it. Still, keeping those individuals waiting wasn't really Ramble's idea of a great plan. With a sigh, he raised his right hoof and knocked three times on the door. There was a heavy, ringing gong that sounded very disproportionate to the taps he made. A second later, the doors swung open on their own accord.

It was a mark of how thick the doors were when a spout of yelling hit Ramble's ears and made him recoil instinctively. The noise now echoed throughout the hallway as Ramble stepped into the War Council room and let the soundproof steel doors close shut behind him.

The doors led into the side of the War Council room. Directly in front of Ramble was the spot where the leading officer would usually be, directing the conversation. Standing on it was Captain Coarse Shield, who was leaning on the crook of his leg on the table in front of him and had an impatient look on his face. He was facing a large, half-crescent shaped table, where four ponies were sitting with glasses of water and sheets of paper that littered across the surface. One of the ponies, however, looked like he had half a mind to stand up. His hooves gripped the arms of his chair and he was sitting on the edge so that he leaned forward.

"So you would have me believe that Shining Armor is unavailable?" he asked aggressively, his eyes flashing a bright orange that matched the flames that burned in the braziers standing around the room.

"Yes, Colonel, I would have you believe that," Shield replied in a bored voice. He looked down at his papers and ruffled through them absentmindedly.

"I still don't believe it," huffed the Lieutenant Colonel resolutely. Ramble immediately recognized him as Colonel Ember, one of the more active and ambitious officers of the Royal Guard. Shield rolled his eyes.

"Please by all means, continue your delusion that every officer is going to be here, but we are changing this topic, whether you like it or not."

"Not before you answer my simple question: where is Shining Armor?" asked Ember, his voice dangerous.

Shield didn't seemed intimidated though. "As I have said, Shining Armor is overseeing the drills of the castle guards. He won't be around for this meeting. He explicitly told me though that-"

"Drills?!" yelled Ember. The two officers next to him, both of whom wore the double silver stars of a Rear Admiral, exchanged amused looks. "Drills? That's what's keeping him from another meeting of the War Council? Is he not taking his job seriously?!"

"Shining Armor is the Captain of the entire Guard after all," reasoned Shield. "It's his responsibility to marshal all the Guard. Not just the Expeditionary Force."

"But to forget that the War Council is handling the first foreign military movement of Equestria in hundreds of years and neglecting his duty in presiding over this meeting... What's he playing out?!"

"Colonel, calm down, or I will be forced to kick you out," said Shield in a calm yet threatening tone. Ember stopped shouting, but he still glared at Shield angrily. "Shining Armor may not necessarily have considered the War Council as very important, but the reason he created this Council is because he wanted other officers to handle these matters while he attends to other business. Business that could help maintain the secrecy that we imposed on this operation. Additionally, he told me himself that he will here for the next meeting. Are you satisfied?"

Ember grunted, turned away, and remained silent. The two Rear Admirals were now laughing quietly among themselves. The other officer, a Lieutenant Colonel, shook her head but otherwise continued staring at her glass of water just as she had done since Ramble walked into the Council room.

For the first time since he walked in, somepony finally seemed to notice him. Shield turned around and waved for Ramble to step forward.

"Adviser Ramble. You made it."

"Sorry I'm late," stammered Ramble. Shield dismissed his apology with another wave of his hoof.

"No worries. We were having a rather..." He glanced toward Ember. "Animated yet irrelevant discussion."

"I understand, sir."

"Well, let's actually get to work, then. Take a seat, Adviser."

Ramble sat down next to the quiet mare who was still looking at her glass.

"Everypony, this is Logistical Adviser Ramble. He'll be providing us with some statistics and information as needed for our meetings.

"He wasn't here last time," remarked one of the officers sitting next to Ember. Shield nodded his head.

"I met him a week ago for his assignment. This is his first meeting, so try to make him welcome." Shield glanced back at Ember again. "Right." He clapped his forelegs together. "Let's get started. Troop levels."

All five of them turned to Ramble, who jolted as he realized that they were waiting on him. He dropped his bag and fumbled through it for a while before withdrawing a stack of papers. Fortunately, the one he was looking for was on the top.

"Yes. Troop levels." He smoothed the sheet out and laid it flat on the table in front of him. "We have approximately seven thousand recruits ready."

Shield and the others nodded, but Ember snorted. "Seven thousand? That seems hardly like it'll make a difference."

"Burmare is a rather small country after all," replied one of the Rear Admirals. "If the rebellion is still contained, it should be enough."

"What say you, Adviser?" deferred Shield. Ramble looked through the paper again.

"Well, like the Admiral, sir, it all really depends on the situation. If the situation is contained after all, perhaps the Burmese won't have to depend on the Expeditionary Force too much."

"Or everything could have already gone to hell down there,"  Ember in a bored voice.

Shield's mouth twitched but he didn't respond to Ember's comment. "I would hate to send in more troops than we have to. Additionally, I don't think accruing, training, accommodating, and transporting more recruits would be recommended or necessary." He looked around at the officers in front of him. "It's just not worth it."

"With all due respect, sir," began the other Rear Admiral. "Training these recruits in basic military protocol and activity would take approximately a month, sir. Couple that with the Leadership Enhancement and Acceleration Program we've started to train future officers, and we have ourselves almost three months worth of training. By that time, Burmare may fall to the rebels. Even if we were to simply abandon the Program and give current Royal Guard members officer positions in the Expeditionary force, there's a possibility we would be too late."

"Yes, well..." Shield's counterargument faded into a murmur and disappeared.

"Should we just forget about it?" asked Ember. "Drop the entire expedition?"

"Unacceptable," replied Shield immediately. "I'm surprised I have to remind you of this, Colonel. Burmare is one of Equestria's main suppliers of copper, tin, rice, and other important trade commodities. Not to mention that it is our main center of influence in the Orient. To let it fall to the rebels would be both harmful to our economy and detrimental to our foreign influence."

"It's also extremely inadvisable if we are to keep the operation secret domestically," added Ramble. "Seven thousand recruits have been gathered, most of them draftees. Families and friends of the recruits all have some idea something is wrong, not to mention the actual troops. If we're to abandon the operation, somepony would start an investigation. Who know what might happen after that?"

"The Comneighists would finally take over the world, of course," joked Ember sarcastically. Nopony laughed.

"At this point, we've all made a commitment." Shield looked at every one of them in turn. "And I'm not going back on it. I'm not going back on Shining Armor and the Royal Guard. I'm not going back on Canterlot. I'm not going back on Equestria. I'm not going back on the hundreds of thousands of innocent lives that could very well fade out thousands of miles away if we're not there to help. And most certainly, I'm not going back on the thousands of troops who've already been gathered and have been given a duty." His sighed and closed his eyes. "I hope that all of you feel that same as well."

A still, awkward silence answered his speech, broken a little bit by the crackling of the flames in the braziers. For a few minutes, nopony talked. All of them sat in their seats, staring off into the distance, in deep thought.

Shield was the first one to emerge from his thoughts. "Well, everypony. I think we can call this a meeting. You all are dismissed." He shuffled his papers together, shoved them into his bag, snapped it up, and proceeded to walk out the double doors.

Slowly, the other ponies followed suit. Ember shot a wary look at Shield's departing figure as he gathered up his files. Ramble meanwhile packed his bag and trotted out the War Council room, back into the dimly lit hallway.

As he reemerged into the spacious and bright lobby of the tower though, Ramble didn't feel relief from surviving his first meeting with the War Council. He only felt guilt weighing down his heart as he thought of the thousands of ponies he felt he certainly sent to their deaths.