If somepony were looking down upon the streets of Umberlight from a bird's eye view, they probably would have taken note of the lime-green-coated pegasus weaving his way through the seas of ponies that took up the sidewalks, quickly darting across crosswalks to once again blend in with the crowd. From the ground, however, Officer Gloss's skill in blending in was palpable; hardly a pony gave him more than a second glance, and if they did it was just because of his bright colour that stood out among the standard drab colours that made up the populace of Umberlight.

Every so often, Gloss pulled out of the crowd and pressed his body against a building, catching his breath. He gave a circumspect glance out into the mass of ponies moving along the sidewalk before diving back in.

As he passed further and further into the city, the crowd thinned and the sidewalks grew older, and not well-maintained. Gloss slowed down to a brisk trot after nearly tripping on a crack in the concrete; there was no need to go fast here, anyhow, as there wasn't a chance anypony would recognise him.

The buildings here were older too, their metal walls a patchwork mixture of weathered and rusted sections alongside shiny new metals that were very similar to the materials used in the Outer Sector. Some buildings, although they probably should have been demolished ages ago, were made of wood or brick. Gloss paid these no mind, though—he'd been all throughout the city plenty of times so the crumbling, antiquated buildings, half of which were boarded up and the other half of which looked ready to close, no longer fazed him. He had a destination, so he kept on walking. The few ponies he passed glared at him once they saw him, and walked quickly past him.

Eventually, he came to a large metal building that looked like it used to be a warehouse. It was in a better state than most of the other buildings; although the metal walls looked old, there were barely any places where new metal had been used to patch it up. The only real issue with it from the outside was that the large windows on its side were shattered and missing, replaced by large expanses of plywood that filled the cavity.

Officer Gloss knew better, however, and approached the building carefully. There used to be a path there, he recalled, but it was there no longer so he had to trot through the mud, flecks of it dirtying his hooves as he went along. Why they filled large patches of the underground world with dirt just to rain on it from above was beyond him.

Once he got to the door of the building, it was obvious that it was as Gloss expected; the light inside was on, and through the glass he could see dozens of ponies milling about. There were booths lining the walls and in rows, with vendors enthusiastically attempting to sell their wares to the ponies walking by. Gloss could make out a fishmonger and a produce seller on the left, a seller of knitted clothing straight ahead, and a painter to the right. The Inner Sector Market—not a black market, but the closest there was to one seeing as it wasn't exactly legal but the city councillors, as with much of the Inner Sector, turned a blind eye to the place. Taking a deep breath, Gloss pushed open the door and slid inside.

Not one for small spaces with large crowds, Gloss found the cacophony of the crowd nigh-on unbearable. The ponies on the streets in the Outer Sector were one thing; they were at least escapable because they were out in the open air. The cramped nature of this market, though—he was left with little opportunity to avoid these ponies. And they were trying to sell things, so anypony who passed was, in their eyes, a potential customer to be hooked in.

"Get the latest comlinks cheap! You, sir—you look like you might need a new one! We take card or cash!"

"Getch'r fresh apples, cauliflower, roots, you name it! There ain't even bugs in 'em this time—we checked!"

Gloss walked down the row of stalls, head turning back and forth, quickly looking away if he caught anypony's eye. He wasn't here to chat with the vendors or buy their crap, and talking to them would just slow him down. It was best to just keep moving.

It took him a few minutes but, soon enough, he reached the back of the room with little interruption. There were fewer booths on this back wall—presumably the ones up front got more attention and ergo more profits—but the ones that were there were larger, spanning the space of what would be two or three booths elsewhere in the room. Gloss made a beeline for the one in the far corner. It was fairly simple, much like the other booths; there was a counter with an earth pony mare behind it and little metal doodads and doohickeys on display around it. The sign above read, in clear block letters, "Fluff's Stuff".

"Hello, sir," the mare said, facing the other direction to adjust some of the metal pieces that hung on plastic hooks behind her. Her blonde mane and brown coat made her look... quite ordinary compared to Gloss. She fit in with the other ponies of Umberlight. "What brings you here today? In need of any... parts?"

"You can cut the crap, Cotton—it's me."

The mare blinked. "G-Gloss?"

Gloss nodded. "Can we have a little chat?"

"Oh, um... well, alright then. I really wish you would have warned me first, though. I assume you'll be needing some things?"

"Not today." Gloss looked around. "Please, could we discuss this somewhere a little more private?"

"If you insist," the mare said. "Come on back here."

Gloss walked around the counter so that he was behind it, beside the mare. He watched with interest as she pulled on a little string by one of the posts holding up the roof of the booth, and a thick velvet curtain descended over the counter. He looked behind him to see that the open space in which he had entered the booth was also now blocked.

"Soundproof," Cotton Fluff said proudly. "A fabric of my own creation."

"Seems useful. You always did have a knack for... pragmatism."

Cotton Fluff raised an eyebrow. "That's all good 'n' fine, but why did you really come here?"

Gloss sighed. "Okay, yeah, you got me. I need a favour."

"A favour?" The mare snorted. "How amusing."

"No, really. The future of Umberlight—maybe even the Kindred planet as a whole—depends on it."

Cotton laughed this time, loudly too. "The future of the whole planet? Golly, Gloss, I didn't realise your ego had got that big in the time since I last saw you."

Gloss facehoofed. "Look, I just need help. I'll make it up to you sometime, I swear."

Cotton sighed. "Okay, okay, I get it. This is important. What do you need me to do?"

"There's two young ponies—a green unicorn colt and a yellow pegasus filly—who are on their way to this city right now, and I need to intercept them once they're here for questioning with regards to a case. I have reason to believe they'll stop here, since they're trying to pick up some parts for spaceship repairs. You're the most prominent pony in these parts who will sell those parts without an ID."

"So... basically what you want me to do is give you a call if I see these ponies?" Cotton Fluff scratched her mane with a hoof. "I guess I can do that..."

"Yeah, just send me a text or something. You have my number. I'll just need you to stall until I can get here."

Cotton Fluff shrugged. "If that's really all you need, then that should be a piece of cake. You sure there's no extra details you're leaving out? Nothing that would make this a whole lot harder?"

Officer Gloss thought of Doc Zed and the alien spaceship, and of the mission he had been sent on to investigate. He thought of the little filly from Aureate-knows-where that was locked up in a cell in the South Pen, not a dozen kilometres from where they stood. These were definitely important details.

"No," he said finally. "That's it. They should be by in the next few days, so I'll be waiting."

Cotton Fluff nodded and pulled on the string, lifting the curtains. There was already a short line of three ponies waiting at the counter, whose ears perked up at the sight of the booth being open once more. "I'll see you around, Gloss."

Gloss bowed his head and exited the booth, trotting quickly through the hustle and bustle of the marketplace to get out of there. He didn't breathe easy until he was outside and back on the street.