It was late evening, and the sky was painted in dark oranges and reds that contrasted against the enroaching night. Phillip walked purposefully through the woods, following the scent of campfire smoke and the distant sound of voices. It had taken all of the mostly fruitless day, but he'd finally learned of the hobo camp in the woods. It hadn't been there when he'd left Canterlot, but it made sense that it would be the first place Silent would go if he'd gotten off the cargo train.

Besides, he'd already checked all of the other likely hiding spots that he knew of.

He pulled himself out of the trees and found himself facing a line of makeshift lean-tos. A single hobo in a battered top hat with a hole in the brim leaned against his little house, staring up at him. Phillip gave him a brief nod and continued towards the largest column of smoke in the distance.

Hoboes, Phillip knew from past experience, were a special subculture of their own, complete with unique customs and languages that fascinated the sociologist in him. However, he knew that a central tenet of the tight-knit hobo culture was a distrust of outsiders. The presentation was everything: you had to demonstrate to them that you weren't looking for trouble, and gain the trust of a higher-up as soon as possible.

Piece of piss.

Walking to the center of the makeshift town, Phillip's attention was attracted by the sound of shouting. A crowd had gathered around a trio of ponies. The oldest one, a bulky fiery red pony with a salt and pepper beard and a guitar cutie mark, was separating two fighting younger ponies. "Now what did I tell you two laddies?" he was saying in a thick Trottish accent. "No fighting, and no stealing!"

"But, Highland, it's just a loaf of bread!" a blue pegasus with a weatherbeaten face and a fading trenchcoat was protesting.

"It's my loaf of bread!" shouted back a skinny dark brown unicorn. "I bought it with my own money that I earned! You had no right to take it!"

"Calm down!" Highland snapped, and both the arguing ponies fell silent. Turning to the pegasus, Highland held out his hoof. "He's right, you don't have a right to take it. You know the rules." The pegasus hung his head in shame, and reached inside his coat, extracting a large, fresh loaf of bread.

"I'm sorry," he said softly, handing the bread to Highland. "I was hungry."

"We're all hungry," the village leader said, breaking the bread in half and handing a piece to both ponies. "We're all cold and poor. We're all in the same boat here, lads. That's why we got to look out for each other." Smiling, he patted them both on the back. "All righ'?"

"Thanks," both ponies murmured in a mixture of embarrassment, shame and relief, turning and walking away to enjoy their dinners. The crowd started to disperse, returning to their own lives. Highland sat next to the campfire and started playing his guitar.

Time to make his move. Tucking his trilby beneath his vest in order to make his appearance less imposing, Phillip trotted forward, pausing some distance away from the elder stallion and clearing his throat to announce his presence. "Excuse me," he said. Highland Note stopped playing and looked up, eyeing this stranger who had walked into his camp with a mixture of curiosity and distrust. "I'm looking for a pony," Phillip declared.

Highland didn't answer for a moment, choosing instead to reach for a brown glass bottle sitting on the ground next to him. "You might've come to the right place, lad. Who're you lookin' for?" he said.

"A pegasus with a white coat and blue mane and tail. Cutie mark of a sword and a crescent moon. He's taller than me, very fit, doesn't talk much."

Highland took a long sip from the bottle, his wrinkled eyes never leaving Phillip. "You with the Guard?"

"Yeah," Phillip lied. "That pony is a wanted fugitive. He escaped from prison and he's been on the run."

Highland's eyes widened and he almost dropped the bottle. "What's he wanted fer?"

"Trying to kill Princess Luna. He used to be a Guard."

Highland scowled. "You're joshin' me, lad."

"No joke, mate," Phillip said seriously. "You know where he is?"

The elder pony slowly set the bottle down, glaring at Phillip the whole time. "Now, I don' know how it is in the Guard, but out here we look out for one 'nother. That pony came into my camp, asking for and needing help, and I gave it to him. Tellin' you where he is now wouldn' be helping him, now would it?" He signaled to some other hoboes. "Lads, throw this clipe bassa out of my camp."

Phil glanced at the two burly ponies moving towards him. He had little doubt he could take them both on, but he really didn't want to get into a fight here. But with every step they took, his only lead was slipping away. Looking back at Highland Note, he saw a small book tucked into the inside of his jacket. A single word stood out to him: Aesopony. An idea suddenly came to him.

"Listen to me, mate," he said quickly. "You're meant to look out for each other, I understand that. But I have to look out for the ponies of Canterlot, and the Princess. You know the fable of the farmer and the viper?" Highland blinked once. Phillip took this as a yes. "This pony is the viper, and you're the farmer. It's only a matter of time before he bites somepony. Do you really want to allow that to happen? Do you want to be responsible for that?"

The stranger and the camp leader stood silent for a moment, both of them glaring at each other. The two burly hoboes hesitated, awaiting their leader's instruction. Finally, Highland Note gave a soft grunt.

"He asked me how to get from the General Hospital from here this morning. I haven't seen him since." He jerked his head. "Now get out of my camp and take your troubles with you."

"Thank you," Phillip said with a courteous nod, turning and leaving the camp at a calm, but quick trot. The hoboes eyes followed him every step of the way, making it quite clear that he was not welcome back.

That could have gone better, Phillip thought. Probably shouldn't have told him that Silent Knight was a criminal; should have figured from his behavior that he would want to protect those that came under his care. But at least he'd gotten what he'd come for.

The General Hospital? This was a surprise. Why would Silent go there? He glanced up at the setting sun and decided that he'd better hurry if he was going to find out.

And hopefully, Silent Knight wouldn't find out about what he'd told the old hobo who'd cared for him last night.

It was time. Silent Knight waited in the darkening alley, crouching next to a dumpster, watching the Employees Only door. He had spent all of his day scouting, thinking and planning, and then he'd deliberately waited until towards the end of the shift, when everypony would be tired and looking forward to going home rather than looking for any intruders.

He shivered a little in the chill evening wind, but ignored the cold. His entire focus was on his plan. If this had been a better situation, he would have taken a day or more to perform more recon, acquire resources, and develop his plan more. But time was against him, and he was working alone: he had to get into the hospital and get the records he needed tonight, before he had a chance to get caught.

Nopony had come out in several minutes, and the alley and loading bay were both clear. This was his chance. Standing, he strode quickly to the door, being careful to stay in the shadows as much as possible. Just as he reached the door, a strange tingling ran down his spine: a feeling like he was being watched. He turned around, but saw nopony: the enclosed loading bay was empty save for some litter blowing by in the wind. Shaking off the feeling, he opened the door and peered inside.

Sure enough, the door opened into an empty locker room, with lines of gray steel lockers stretching across the walls and benches sitting amongst the rows. Off to the side was a washer and dryer and piles of pale green scrubs and mane nets. Silent double-checked to make sure the area was secure, then dashed over to the pile of clothing and selected a large shirt, pants, and mane net. The fabric stretched to accommodate his build, making for a fair disguise. Hopefully if he didn't let anypony get a close look, he could pass by unnoticed.

As he started to leave the locker room, he caught sight of himself in a mirror. Clad in green scrubs and his head covered by a mane net, he looked ridiculous, nothing at all like the figure he cut in his dark blue and purple armor. He shook his head. A disgraced Royal Guard, escaped from prison, breaking into a hospital to steal records that would lead him to a three-legged pony. If his father could see him now!

Enough. Time to get to work. He walked over to the door and pushed it open to see something charging right at him. Instinctively, he braced, sliding into a combat stance.

"Get out of the way!" a black-maned paramedic shouted, pushing a stretcher holding a semiconscious mangled-looking pony down the hall like an express train. Silent stepped aside and flattened himself against the wall as the stretcher raced by, the paramedic and two doctors sprinting after it. Even after they disappeared, Silent remained there for a moment longer, his heart still beating against his ribs. He shouldn't be this jittery...but then again, he never had been in a situation like this before.

Except for once. The griffon camp...Alastair...

He shook his head, ordering himself to remain calm, to concentrate. Putting aside the shock, he continued down the hallway towards the stairs that he knew from his earlier scouting would take him to the basement and the record room within. He passed a table with a clipboard on it carrying a blank set of forms on it. He snatched it up in his wing and held it up in front of him, using it as a shield, covering him from any questioning glances. Other doctors and nurses passed by, but none of them paid him any attention, engaged in their own conversations and work.

He'd just reached the stairwell when he felt it again. That tingling on his spine, the sensation of eyes focused upon him. He turned and looked behind him, but saw nothing suspicious: just a couple of passing ponies, a doctor and a patient, speaking to one another quietly. It was probably nothing more than nerves, a reminder to be alert. Silent continued down the stairs, reaching the basement. His hoofsteps faintly echoing off the white walls and tiled floor, he followed the signs until he reached the record room. Checking behind him once more and seeing nothing but an empty hall, he opened the door and entered.

The records room was arranged like a library: rows and rows of metal shelves, stacked high with foot-thick manilla folders and cardboard boxes labelled in permanent marker. Fortunately, the room was empty, and there were signs on the shelves that indicated the contents. Silent walked along the shelves, following the signs.

P...P...Prosthetics! Turning, he banked down the shelf, looking up and down the shelves. There it was: a big white cardboard box labelled "Prosthetics" in black marker. Taking the box down from the shelf, he carried it over to a table and pulled out the files within. Fortunately, there weren't that many, and it didn't take him long to sort out the right hind leg replacements. Still, that left him with three pages of names.

He frowned, holding the papers in his hoof. He couldn't just steal them...

Fortunately, the table had a photocopier on it, a large black camera set up on on four legs with the lens pointing down. He placed the first sheet underneath the camera and hit the switch. There was a flash of light and a full-size copy began to print out of the attached printer. He took the copy and repeated the process with the other two sheets. Tucking the copies underneath his scrub shirt, he replaced the files in the box and put the box back up on the shelf.

Objective acquired, tracks covered. It was time to get out of here and finish his mission. Once he had gotten to a safe place, he could figure out how he was going to—

"G'day."

Silent almost jumped out of his skin, immediately halting. Phillip Finder was standing right in front of him, between him and the door, staring at him with a neutral expression.

"How did you find me?" Silent asked in disbelief.

"I followed you in," Phillip said.

"I didn't see anypony," Silent protested.

"That's what you can expect to see when I follow you," Phillip answered with a small smirk.

Silent Knight suddenly recalled the tingles down his spine. It also occurred to him that he did not have time for a long discussion, and he couldn't afford to let anypony in his way. He prepared to attack when it suddenly happened: for a moment, it was not Phillip Finder, another pony, who stood before him, but a griffon soldier, clad in armor and holding a spear up in a guarding position, sharpened beak open in a threatening screech. He paused, and the illusion passed as soon as it came.

Seeing the growing tension in the pegasus' body, Phillip held up a hoof. "Mate, I'm not here to bring you in. We're on the same side. We both want Princess Luna safe."

The mention of Princess Luna, the reminder of his objective, was enough to make Silent balk. Slowly, he allowed his guard to lower.

"I only ask to let me speak to you, offer my help," Phillip continued. "After that, you can do what you like, and I'll leave you alone if that's what you want."

Still Silent Knight hesitated. It was still difficult for him to put trust in an almost total stranger, especially one that had a reputation for going outside the law, or who might betray him. But he felt the weight of the papers beneath his shirt, and remembered that there were dozens of names he had to search through. He needed an ally, at a time when he didn't have many.

It went against every instinct...but he decided to trust him. For now. He gave Phillip a brief nod.

"Come with me," Phillip said, turning and heading towards the door. Silent Knight followed in silence.

Author's Notes:

This took me a while, but I finally tapped it out. The beginning of a tense alliance...

For those who aren't familiar with Silent Knight's stories, more details will be given in later chapters.