The last remnants of Celestia's sun sinking behind the tall Crystal City cityscape told Ice Moon it was almost time to get up. At exactly 20:00 hours, she climbed out of bed, shook her fur and yawned, then licked lightly at her fangs. She made her way to her dresser, picked up a brush, and starting combing out her mane, working the snarls out of its long strands while watching herself in the mirror and trying to keep her gaze focused entirely on her face, doing her best to shut out the image of her sides and back. At exactly 20:10 hours, she finished combing her mane and tail, then stepped in the shower, letting the warm water flow over her fur and her mane. She stepped out of the shower at exactly 20:15 hours, dried off, then went to her kitchen, removing a box of alfalfa sprouts and oat straw from a cabinet. She filled a kettle of water, set it on the stove to boil, poured it over the sprouts and oat straw when it had finished. She stirred the mixture, idly watching the steam rise from it like fog over a pond on a cold morning, and started eating at exactly 20:25 hours. At exactly 20:40 hours, she finished, rinsed out her empty bowl, washed it, and put it back in the cupboard. She went to her closet, pulling open the door and selecting one of her decorative saddle pads. Well, actually, they weren’t decorative at all. All of them were either black, or dark shades of gray or blue that were almost black. They were plain, with no fancy trim or any designs embroidered into them. Hoity Toity would probably have an aneurysm if he ever saw her wardrobe. But her clothing wasn’t intended to be fashionable. The reason she wore clothes was utilitarian, hiding the hideous disfigurements on her body like she wished she could hide the scars on her mind.

She selected a midnight-blue saddle pad with her mouth, placing it over her back and carefully adjusting it to cover her wing joints and her sides where her wings should have been. All of her saddle pads had been cut to have extra long sides to make sure they would cover the area where her wings would normally have folded against her body. It was entirely for her own benefit rather than an attempt to fool others. She knew she couldn’t do that. Had she been a pegasus, she might have been able to pass for an earth pony with the special cut saddle pads. But there were no wingless bat ponies. Wings were what made a bat pony … well, a bat pony. There was no such thing as an earth thestral. She wore the saddle pads so that she didn’t have to see those wing joints, just like she wore her rituals and routines to try to prevent her mind from seeing. Like her feral ancestors, she had nearly a three hundred and sixty degree field of vision. So even when looking forward, she could still see her wing joints and sides. They were a constant, tormenting reminder of that fateful day twenty years ago. She looked in the mirror once again, checking the position of the saddle pad and making a minor adjustment. At exactly 21:00 hours, she left her bedroom, opened her apartment door, and stepped outside.

The muggy warmth of the late spring evening coated her dark gray fur. A gusty wind blew from the southwest and humidity dampened her as if she were in a sauna. Maybe there would be a thunderstorm tonight. That would suit her just fine. It would help get rid of some of the blasted heat. When she’d moved to the Crystal Empire from Canterlot, she’d expected it to be much cooler here. But even this far north, the late spring and summer days could feel like standing in an oven. She turned down the sidewalk and began walking towards her office in the government district of the city not far from the Crystal Palace. The magic powered lamps along the sides of the street were just beginning to light, casting the buildings and sidewalk in an iridescent blue glow. A shadow covered her momentarily as three more bat ponies flew over above her. She didn't look up, but increased her pace to a trot, turning the corner. Crystal Palace loomed in front of her, but she kept her eyes focused on the street. Luna's Moon would be rising right now. But despite the fact that she was a bat pony, a servant of the night, she didn't look up at the sky. She never looked at the sky anymore. Not for the last twenty years.

She turned again, arriving at her office at exactly 21:10 hours. She climbed the stone steps of the building, flanked on both sides by towering crystal statues of ponies holding pan-balance scales in their mouths. The Ponies of Justice, they were called. They each held one forehoof in the air, and their crystal manes and tails flowed as if in a perpetual wind. The pan balance scales they held in their mouths were real, golden scales, not cut crystal. The wind caused the pans to rock back and forth slightly, like a boat being tossed on the waves of a pond. But always, the balances returned to the center, neither side weighing heavier than the other. She passed under the ornately carved pillars guarding the door, pushed it open with a forehoof, and stepped inside, the cool air a welcome relief after the muggy heat outside. She turned down a corridor, passing several doors, before arriving at one labeled Department of International Justice Affairs. She pushed at the door with a forehoof. It made a small creak as it swung inward and she stepped inside.

“Evening, Ice,” a light-brown crystal earth pony said to her in a cheerful voice. He was an intern, still in law school at the Royal Crystal Academy. He was making his way towards the door. She felt her heart flutter a little as they neared each other.

“Evening, Aspen,” she said brightly, the cool relief of the office and the cheery mood of the crystal pony making her forget about the depression that had threatened to go to war on her psyche again. “You have anything exciting today?”

“Just a simple assault case. A visiting griffon got into an argument with a cocky pegasus about who was the fastest flier. Pegasus called her a lumbering, overgrown pussycat. Griffon took a swing at her.”

Ice winced. “She alright?”

“She needed a couple of stitches, but she'll be fine.”

“That's good to hear at least. Well, you have a great evening and night.”

“You too. I have to study tonight, though. Got an exam tomorrow.”

“Which class?”

“Royal Court Procedures and Rules.”

“Ah yes, I remember that class fondly. Although to this day, I’ve never worked a case that was being judged by one of the Princesses themselves. Only the highest profile cases get their attention.”

“Not many agents get to work a case that goes all the way to Royal Court. But every agent has to know the rules and procedures in case they ever get one. Or so my professor says. And with that, I better run if I want to pass my exam tomorrow. Night, Ice.”

“Night,” she responded as he trotted for the door. Just before stepping out, he turned his head over his shoulder and looked at her again.

“Rumor is there's a bit of an unusual case waiting on your desk. Don't know what it is, though,” he said as he walked out the door.

Ice raised an eyelid, intrigue picking at her mind as she made her way to her office. She was the only thestral who worked for the Department of International Justice Affairs. Given the nocturnal schedule of the thestrals, it was a challenge to deal with the legal system, which mostly operated when the Sun was up. But she had adapted. She typically interviewed prisoners first thing in the evening, and then worked on their cases through the night. The evening prisoner interviews had actually turned out to be somewhat of an advantage she had. She had discovered that prisoners were often more relaxed in the evening, making them more likely to cooperate with investigations.

She pushed open the door to her office, letting it swing shut behind her as she entered her dark haven. Her coworkers jokingly referred to it as the Bat Cave. Unlike crystal ponies, who were obsessed with everything shiny, Ice’s office was a veritable temple to the Princess of the Night. Her walls were painted a dark, smoky gray so that they looked like staring up into clouds lit by Moonlight. Instead of the clear glass-topped desks with their quartz decorated legs that dominated the average crystal pony’s office, her desk was solid black limestone with a surface that looked like staring into the night sky on Luna’s New Moon. If the sky had no stars in it, that is. Whereas most crystal ponies used glass prisms as paperweights that refracted light in dizzying arrays of patterns (how could they not be distracted by that?), she used simple, unpolished volcanic rocks that swallowed light rather than spewing it out like some kaleidoscope spewing forth rainbow colored vomit. Most crystal ponies had bright lights mounted on their ceilings, as if they were trying to artificially reproduce the light of Celestia’s Sun itself. Ice had a single dim lamp on her desk, with a nut-brown shade that directed most of the light downward to her desk, allowing very little of it to spit out to the sides. Yes, she supposed the Bat Cave was an apt nickname for her office. The name had a slight tint of racist undertones to it, but she didn’t think her coworkers were being insensitive. She got along with all of them. Most of them. The few times she happened to arrive in the office before most of them had gone home for the day, anyway.

Ice went behind her desk, plopping down unceremoniously on her haunches. She looked at the open files on her desk. There was that changeling who'd been arrested again for posing as a prostitute mare and using it to steal emotions while getting paid for it. But she was already on her way back to the Hive, so she could close that case. And then their was Rover the teenage diamond dog who'd been arrested while trespassing in a gem mine again. She'd have to have a heart-to-heart with him. This was the third time he'd been caught stealing from the gem mines. If it happened a fourth time, she wouldn't be able to keep him out of a stint in the dungeon. She put his file aside for now. She'd talk to him tomorrow evening. Spending a day in the dungeon waiting for her might cause him to finally wake up.

She turned her attention to the file in her inbox now. It must be the unusual case that Aspen had told her about. Her interest piqued, she opened it and began to read.

At approximately 18:58, Pegasus Guard interceptors intercepted a U.S. Marine Corps C-130 transport aircraft in violation of Crystal Empire airspace. The aircraft was flying low with navigation lights turned off. CADC attempted radio contact with no response. Shortly after the attempt to initiate radio contact, scouts reported seeing two small objects being pushed out a door in the side of the aircraft, but they were unable to identify what the objects were. The aircraft was forced to land at Commander Hurricane Field. The five human officers on board exited the aircraft and were taken into custody without incident.

Her eyes narrowed, her tail flicked rapidly like pissed off feline. Anger started to churn inside of her like bile rising from her stomach as she continued to read.

The human officers told the arresting Crystal Guards that they had suffered a radio and navigation system failure which had caused them to accidentally fly into Crystal Empire airspace. Pegasus Guard officers who investigated the claim confirmed that the radio and navigation systems on board the aircraft were, in fact, inoperative. However, the cause of the failure was determined to be a simple blown fuse which they easily located. The fuse was a standard 15 amp tube fuse, so the Pegasus Guard was easily able to find a replacement for it. Upon replacing the fuse, the radio and navigation system appeared to operate normally.

The five human prisoners were transported to Crystal Palace and are currently being held in the dungeon. Interview the prisoners, determine whether any charges are warranted, and make a recommendation. Make this case your top priority. If it turns out this really was just a navigational error, we'd like to release the prisoners and send them on their way home as soon as possible.

She tossed the file onto her desk. It slid across the slick surface like shit sliding on ice, flopping onto the floor, the papers inside scattering like a small explosion. Ice stood up as her anger reached a boiling point. If she hurried, she might still be able to catch the director before he left. If he was working late, that is (he often did.) She trotted around her desk, intentionally stepping on one of the papers with both hooves, grinding one hoof into it and tearing a hole in it before throwing open her office door and storming to the director's office. She kicked open the door as if she were invading a bunker, almost knocking it off its hinges. The gray crystal unicorn stallion was sitting behind his desk, a look of surprise on his muzzle at her lack of courtesy, but she gave him no time to say anything before she started to unload on him.

“Why would you assign this case to me! You know about my history! You know I don't –”

Her heart froze, a shock of fear going through her. In her haste to yell at the director, she had failed to notice that standing next to him, were Princess Cadance, Prince Shining Armor, Princess Luna, and Princess Celestia themselves. She said nothing, forgetting even to bow. Might as well leave and write her resignation letter before she got fired after her little display. It was the director who finally broke the silence.

“I'm uh … gonna head home and let you four handle this if you don't mind, Your Majesties.”

“Not at all,” Cadance responded in her usual calmness. “Have a good evening, Director.”

The gray stallion stepped out from behind his desk, walking towards the door.

“Keep your cool if you want to keep your job. Remember who you’re talking to,” he mumbled under his breath as he passed Ice. She didn't turn her head, just standing and staring slack-jawed at the three princesses and the prince. When the door had closed, Cadance spoke in a calm, kind, and collected manner, no hint of anger at Ice’s obnoxious entrance evident in her tone.

“It was I who requested this case be assigned to you, Ice Moon.”

Ice's stomach felt like she'd swallowed a chunk of lead as she responded.

“But why, Your Majesty? Surely you know of my history. Of what happened. I don't take cases involving humans. I'll do Equestrians, gryphons, changelings, diamond dogs, Saddle Arabians, buffalo, yaks, deer, even the occasional dragon. But not humans.”

“I think it would be good for you to handle this case, Ice,” Cadance responded. Her serene voice almost succeeded in calming Ice. Almost. On one hoof, Ice wanted to take this case. A large, dark part of her mind wanted to find something to charge these humans with. Something serious. Espionage preferably. The shadowy part of her wanted to find some excuse, any excuse, to punish these humans.

But some small part of her mind, much smaller than the dark part, warred with the dark part, doing its best to keep it at bay. That part of her mind told her these humans likely had nothing to do with what happened to her twenty years ago. Some tiny part of her knew it was wrong to hate all of humanity because of what had happened to her. But the dark part of her was very strong and threatened to overwhelm all rationality.

“I want this case assigned to somepony else,” she snapped with more vitriol than she'd intended. “I do not feel that I can be fair or unbiased. Not given what happened.” That was true. She didn't think she could be fair. But it wasn't the real reason she wanted the case reassigned. The truth was, she simply wanted nothing at all to do with humans. Any of them. And that overruled even her desire to punish them.

“The fact that you are worried you will not be able to be unbiased concerns me less than if you had jumped at the opportunity to accept this case. If you had done that, I'd be more concerned that you intended to punish the humans unjustly.”

“Part of me wants to do just that, Your Majesty.”

“I understand. But I believe a larger part of you wants to do what is right. To uphold the values that the post Sombra Crystal Empire is built on, and that we hold dear. It has been twenty years, Ice. You cannot continue to hold this grudge. Continuing grudges on both sides only makes a second war more likely. Eventually, you must put aside your anger and hatred.”

Easy for the Pink Princess of Love to say. Ice was convinced that Cadance didn’t even know how to hate. She shifted her gaze to Celestia, then to Luna. Neither one of them had spoken a single word so far, appearing to defer completely to Cadance. Her mind pleaded with them that one of them would come to her rescue on this.

“Are you two really going to let her do this, Your Majesties? Are you going to go along with this?” she pleaded with her former Commander in Chief, and with Princess Celestia, a strong note of accusation in her voice. But neither Luna nor Celestia took the bait. It was Luna who responded.

“When you requested transfer to the Crystal Empire, you became a subject of Princess Cadance, and Prince Shining Armor, Ice. Neither I nor my sister have any jurisdiction or authority to overrule their decision on this. Besides, my sister and I are in agreement with Princess Cadance. This will be good for you.”

So even my own Night Goddess isn’t going to stand up for me, she thought with bitterness.

But Ice still had one last hope. Shining Armor had jurisdiction here. He was co-ruler with Princess Cadance after all. Perhaps the shining prince would storm the palace, galloping to her rescue? She cast her gaze on him, giving him a pleading look. Come on Shiny. Grow a pair of balls and stand up to your wife, she thought to herself. But all she said was “My Lord?”

“I’m sorry, Ice. But I kind of like sleeping in bed with Cadance instead of on the floor,” he said as if he’d read her mind. He had a slight grin on his muzzle, like he thought it was funny. Ice did not. Judging from Cadance’s frown and slightly narrowed eyes, she didn’t either. Shining Armor wiped the grin off his muzzle and his expression became serious. “The truth is Cady and I discussed this in advance. And we both agreed that this assignment would be good for you.”

So I’ve got a castrated husband and domineering wife team plotting against me to make my life miserable, Ice thought crudely. She turned her eyes away from all four of them now, resisting the urge to stomp her hoof in anger. It was Luna who spoke again.

“You must decide what it is you are loyal to. Are you loyal to your hatred and your desire for revenge? Or are you loyal to your Princesses and Prince and to the values of the Crystal Empire and Equestria?”

“To you, Your Majesty. And to the values of the Crystal Empire,” Ice murmured, feeling a taint of shame in her blood as her eyes drooped towards the ground. It was Celestia who responded, her voice like that of a warm spring day.

“This will likely be a cut and dried case. All you need to do is determine whether their story checks out or not and report your findings and recommendations to Princess Cadance. If it really was just a navigational error on their part, then they will be on their way home in a day or two, and you can be done with this case. You can go right back to working with changelings, gryphons, and diamond dogs.”

Ice was silent for several long moments. Conflicting emotions battled for supremacy inside of her. The desire to punish these humans. The desire to prove she could put aside her personal bias and be fair. The desire for revenge. The desire to show these humans that she had power over their fate. The desire to do her duty and to serve her Princesses, her Prince, and the Crystal Empire. After all, Celestia was right. If this was a simple navigational error, she'd be done with this case in a day or two anyway. But based on the summary she had read, a nagging fear poked at her mind that there was a lot more to this case than was apparent on the surface. And that was true even if she used all of her willpower to put aside her own bias against humans. Something about the simple answer of a navigation error just didn't add up. Finally, she called up all of her willpower and determination and returned her gaze to Cadance.

“Alright. I'll do it, Your Majesty.”

All four monarchs smiled in response. It was Luna who responded.

“I know you will do your best, as you have always done for me. You have never disappointed me, and I know you will not disappoint Princess Cadance and Prince Shining Armor in this matter either.”

Ice wished she had as much confidence in herself as Luna seemed to have in her. Even though she had agreed to take the case, the war was still raging inside of her between giving the humans a fair shake, and finding a way to punish them for what other humans had done to her. Finally, she nodded in response.

“Well, I suppose I better go visit the prisoners, then.” She felt about as much enthusiasm as if she were going to the doctor to have a colonoscopy. Then again, maybe a colonoscopy would be preferable.

“Would you like us to teleport you to the palace with us?” Cadance asked in her always kind voice.

“No … thank you. There are some things about the case I need to think about before I visit them. I'll do that on the way over.” Cadance nodded and smiled in response.

“Remember, please feel free to contact me should you need anything at all. Even if it is just to talk.” Then, a golden aura formed around the Crystal Princess’s horn, and she, together with the other three monarchs, all disappeared with a brief flash of silver light.

Ice shook her head and left the director's office, locking the door behind her and making her way back out to the street. It was completely dark now, but the sidewalks were well lit by the magical street lamps. It had cooled slightly and light raindrops danced in the air, reflecting the light of the lamps like miniature stars. They felt good against her fur, helping to draw out some of the heat her anger had generated. She ran through the summary of the case again as she made her way to the palace.

There were several things about the case and the story the humans had told to the arresting Crystal Guard officers that didn't seem to add up to her. The first, was that shortly after CADC had attempted to make contact with the humans, scouts reported seeing two small objects being dropped from a side door in the aircraft. The fact that they had dropped them shortly after CADC had attempted to contact them by radio also suggested that they had heard the original radio call, but had chosen not to respond to it. However, once they realized they were likely going to be forced to land, they had chosen to dump something they didn't want to be caught with. Likely, they hadn't known they were being physically observed by scouts at the time, and that the dump would be seen. And if they had heard the initial radio call, had they intentionally sabotaged their own radio to make their story about radio and navigation failure sound legitimate? It also seemed likely that given it was a simple blown fuse, they should have been able to figure out the cause and fix it in flight. They'd carry something as basic as replacement fuses on board, wouldn't they? And if this case was going to be so simple, why had Cadance and Shining Armor felt the need to summon Princess Celestia and Princess Luna here all the way from Canterlot? Surely, a few humans making a navigational error and accidentally wandering into the Crystal Empire couldn’t warrant getting Celestia and Luna involved., even if it was a military aircraft that had made the mistake. There was more to this case than any of the four monarchs were letting on.

She entered the palace and started to make her way towards the dungeon. A few guards greeted her, but made no attempt to stop her. She was a familiar face around the dungeon area since she regularly visited the prisoners she worked with. She responded to the greetings of the guards absentmindedly as she continued to turn over the case summary in her mind.

The dead radio and navigation system also didn't explain why they'd been flying with navigation lights turned off. She wasn't an avionics engineer or an aircraft mechanic, but she doubted that the navigation lights would be on the same fuse as the radio and navigation equipment. And why had they been flying so low?

The more she rolled the case over in her mind, the more likely one conclusion seemed to her: The items they pushed out of the aircraft were probably recreational drugs of some sort. Perhaps they'd been delivering them somewhere to make a little extra cash? That would explain why they'd been flying low with navigation lights turned off. It would also explain why they had ignored radio calls. Their own transmitter could be used by human AWACS or other electronic surveillance aircraft to find their location, even from several hundred miles away.

It was also possible that they had been spying, and the items they had dumped from the aircraft were espionage equipment that they hadn't wanted to be caught with. However, that explanation seemed unlikely to her. Why not answer the radio once it was obvious that CADC had found them? It seemed to her that they'd been trying to hide from other human aircraft that would be listening for radio calls. Not from the Crystal Guard. Their behavior fit more with contraband running than with spying.

Of course, as probable as her theory sounded, it was speculation. Definitely not enough to hold them on or charge them with drug trafficking. Not unless ground search crews could find the items they’d dropped from the aircraft. But even though the search area was relatively small, finding two small items dropped over an unpopulated area was likely to take days. As frustrating as it was, she had to acknowledge the fact that she couldn't hold them that long without filing charges that were probably spurious. Unless the ground search team got lucky, the prisoners would probably be on their way home in less than a day.

Two Crystal Earth Pony Guards unlocked the heavy iron door to the dungeon entrance and she started down the ash-gray stone stairs, turning down a corridor and making her way towards the cell block where the humans were being held. Magical torches along the walls of the corridor lit the hall so that the dungeon resembled something out of the medieval era. But the magical torches provided much more light than real torches. Unlike real torches, they also didn’t smoke and release toxins or headache-inducing smells into the air.

The closer she got, the more angry and disgusted she felt, as if she were approaching some kind of noxious fume that made her stomach turn. She could hear the humans talking amongst themselves now and she moved a little slower, using her training from her Bat Team Alpha days to move silently while perking her ears towards the sound. It was unlikely the prisoners would be dumb enough to say anything incriminating, but there was always a chance, especially if they were unaware of how sensitive equine hearing was.

“We're probably gonna spend the rest of our lives in pony prison,” a male voice said with a slight note of fear. The speaker sounded young. Probably in his very early twenties.

“Relax, Boyd,” an older voice responded. “We may not see eye-to-eye on a lot of things with the ponies, but this isn't North Korea. The ponies are reasonable and civilized.”

She waited ten or fifteen more seconds, but nothing further was said. She resumed a normal pace. When she turned the corner, she saw them. Two of the men were dressed in olive colored flight suits and standing near the center of the cell. The other three were dressed in desert camouflage and were sitting on the lower bunks. One was looking at the floor, as if he were counting the number of stones used to build it. The camouflage color of their uniforms was different from what she remembered, but the sight of the humans in their military uniforms immediately sent her mind back to that fateful day. She heard the guns firing, saw the explosion. Felt the brief, searing pain, followed by numbness and shock … She pulled herself back to the present, tearing herself out of the flashback. With a sheer effort of will, she checked her anger, keeping it at bay, and took a few steps closer to the cell. The humans noticed her now, turning to look at her. The three humans who were sitting down stood up and fell into a loose formation behind the two standing ones.

“My name is Ice Moon. I'm an agent for the Department of International Justice Affairs. I've been assigned to your case. My job is to investigate the case, interview relevant ponies, interview you, determine if charges are warranted, determine appropriate punishment, and then make a recommendation to Her Majesty. As of right now, no charges have been filed against you. Since we are not currently in a state of war, you are not being held as prisoners of war. Instead, you are simply being held for violation of Crystal Empire airspace while I do my investigation. You are, of course, not obligated to answer any questions. However, the more willing you are to cooperate with my investigation, the more likely it is that I can have you out of here and on your way home in less than a day. Assuming the story you told the arresting Crystal Guard officers checks out, that is.” She spoke to them in their own language. She could speak English quite well, with only a hint of Equestrian accent to betray that she wasn’t a native speaker. She did her best to maintain a neutral tone, trying not to let the anger she felt slip into her voice.

The man who appeared to be the oldest spoke.

“I'm Colonel Stetson. This is Lieutenant Thompson, Lieutenant Dalton, Sergeant Boyd, and Sergeant Newman,” he said, waving a hand at each one in turn. Ice cast her eyes on each of them as Stetson said their name. Except for Colonel Stetson himself, they all appeared to be young. Probably in their early to mid twenties. Even Stetson himself, didn't look like he could be older than thirty. But wrinkles under his eyes, a persistent frown creasing the edges of his mouth, and a few gray strands in his otherwise chestnut hair told of someone who had aged much faster than he should have. Someone who had seen long years of service in a combat zone that had taken a toll on him as surely as an aging spell cast by a unicorn. He had a tired look about him, as if he'd seen more horror than anyone should have to see in an entire lifetime.

“Would you care to tell me about your service divisions?” she asked.

“Myself and Lieutenant Thompson are with OSA. Lieutenant Dalton, and Sergeants Boyd and Newman are with MARSOC.”

“Special ops, huh?” she said, turning her attention to Dalton.

“Yes, Ma'am,” Dalton responded.

“What uh… what kind of charges could we be looking at?” Stetson asked. She returned her attention to him. There had been no fear in the question. He had asked it almost as if he had been asking what the weather forecast was. It was the voice of experience, confirming her earlier judgment that he was someone who had spent a long career in the military. Probably in war zones. She felt her anger starting to boil again.

“The most serious potential charge I could imagine at this point would be espionage. However, I think that's very unlikely, provided the Pegasus Guards currently combing through your aircraft don't find any reconnaissance equipment.”

She narrowed her eyes imperceptibly. The one named Boyd was looking at her. Looking at her back and side areas. The hazel eyes in his young face watched her as if she were some kind of experimental test subject. As if she were the one in the cage and not him. She bristled with contempt, waiting for the question she knew was coming. Waiting … waiting …

“Did you lose your wings in the war?”

“Yes,” she answered simply and in a monotone voice. He didn't have to say which war he was talking about.

“Both of them?”

“No … Just one of them. I had the other one surgically removed. One wing is useless for flying, and terrible for balance when moving quickly on the ground. I had to learn to live life as an earth pony.”

“What division you serve in?”

“Bat Team Alpha,” she responded, letting a hint of annoyance creep into her voice now. He nodded slightly, but his expression changed somewhat at finding out she had been a member of Equestria's most elite Special Forces unit. It seemed to be an expression of … admiration and respect? Perhaps he also felt a bit of camaraderie with her, given he served in special ops. But it was a feeling she certainly did not share.

“I know a friend,” the one named Boyd continued. “Was a Navy Seal. You know the Seals?”

“I know what the Seals are,” she responded, her irritation growing by the second, a brewing thunderhead waiting to spawn a tornado as she stiffened her stance. She flicked her tail like a whip, an equine body language sign that Boyd apparently missed, or didn’t know how to interpret.

“Yeah … Anyhow, he was on a mission to destroy one of your key communication outposts. It went badly. He was hit low by a hellfire spell from a unicorn. The spell burned so hot it literally vaporized both of his legs. The damage was so extensive they couldn't give him prosthetics. Been in a wheelchair now for the last twenty years. He'll spend the rest of his life in it.”

She paused for a few moments. Then the lightning and thunder erupted from the churning storm inside of her. She directed all of her pent up fury at Boyd. “Is that supposed to make me feel better? Or is it supposed to make me feel guilty about the fact that we gave you guys back every bit as much as we got from you?”

His look changed to one of shock and bewilderment, as if he hadn't the slightest understanding at all of why she had gotten angry and responded as coldly as she had. He cast his eyes downward, looking at the floor.

“I'm sorry … I didn't mean … I just thought ….” he stammered.

She took a deep breath, forcing the raging tornado of anger inside of her back down to Spring thunderstorm level. Boyd was young. She guessed he had probably only been two or three years old when the war had happened. None of them looked like they could have been older than ten.

“I'm not here to swap war stories with you. I'm here to interview and investigate, determine if charges are warranted, and if not, get you out of here and on your way back home,” she responded as calmly as she could manage. “Now tell me exactly what happened, and how you ended up in Crystal Empire airspace.”

“There's not much to tell that we didn't already tell the Crystal Guards who arrested us,” Colonel Stetson responded. He then proceeded to tell much the same story she had read in the summary. They had been on their way from Afghanistan to Ramstein Air Base in Germany. They had suffered an electrical failure affecting their radio and navigation systems. With no navigation system and no visual landmarks when they had been over the ocean, combined with a weather change that had caused a strong wind they were not aware of at the time, they had drifted off course, crossing over the coast far from where they thought they had been, which had caused them to wander into Crystal Empire airspace. She listened intently until he had finished his story.

“You dropped something from the aircraft,” she stated as a simple fact.

“Ma'am?”

“Our scouts saw you drop two objects from the aircraft. What were they?”

“Just some trash. Empty coffee cups, half eaten food. That sort of thing. It was hot in the aircraft and the food was kind of starting to smell.” He hadn't missed a beat when he'd said it. Hadn't paused or hesitated. But she knew the story was specious. The question had caught him off guard. He hadn't expected it and had to come up with an answer on the spot. She could smell the change in his scent. See the barely detectable shift in his posture. Human soldiers were trained not to give any verbal or visual cues when they were lying under interrogation. But often times, they couldn't hide it from their scent, or from the subtle signals they gave in their body language. Ponies were instinctively very good about sensing emotions through scents and body language. Signals that humans often didn’t even know they were giving.

But the fact that he was lying about what they'd dropped from the aircraft still left her with nothing. She couldn't prove he was lying, nor could she prove that whatever they had dropped was incriminating. The best she could do right now was charge them with littering, which was a petty infraction and certainly not an offense she could recommend a dungeon sentence for.

“Why were you flying with your nav lights turned off? And so low to the ground?” she asked.

“Special ops usually fly dark and low. We fly with nav lights off to make us less visible, and we fly low so we don't show up on radar. Insurgents have a few radar guided mobile SAM units. Hard to find and destroy cause they move them around a lot. They typically won't harass escorted transports because if they turn on their radar, they'll light up the SAM warning systems in the fighters. Then they'll end up eating an AGM-88. But when they see that we're alone … sometimes they like to take a shot at us.”

“Yeah, but once you were outside of hostile territory, why not turn the nav lights on?”

“Guess we just forgot. We're almost always flying in hostile territory, so we're so used to flying with them turned off that sometimes it just slips our minds to turn them on when we leave hostile airspace.”

She couldn't tell if he was lying this time. Unlike the question about the objects they dropped from the aircraft, he'd probably been expecting the question about the nav lights. She still detected nervousness in his scent. A lingering odor like stale cigarette smoke. But that could be residual if he hadn't recovered from the question about the dropped objects yet. Her instincts told her he was lying again, and that the truth was they'd been trying to hide from someone, but that it was not the Crystal Empire they'd been trying to hide from. But then, she wasn't entirely certain she could trust her own instincts. Could it be bias due to her dislike of humans in general? A product of her desire to find some reason to punish these humans? As much as it pained her, she had to admit that was a possibility if she wanted to do her job properly and without violating the values of the Crystal Empire and disappointing Princess Cadance and Prince Shining Armor.

“And there's nothing else you care to tell me?” she asked, glancing at all of them, inviting any of them to answer. None of them responded. It seemed they had all decided in advance that Colonel Stetson would do all the speaking for them. She had considered separating them and questioning each one of them individually, but she doubted it would do any good. They'd had plenty of time in the aircraft to discuss the story they would tell and make sure there wouldn't be any inconsistencies.

“There's nothing more to tell, really,” Stetson responded.

“Very well. Then I will be back to see you again at this time tomorrow. By that time, the Pegasus Guard investigation of your aircraft should be finished, and I should be able to tell you what charges, if any, you will face. Assuming your story checks out, you will probably be on your way home the morning after that. In the meantime, if you need anything, ask the dungeon guards.”

“Thank you, ma'am,” Colonel Stetson responded with a slight nod of his head. She nodded in response, but said nothing. Then, she turned and left them.

As she made her way out of the dungeon, she mulled over their case and what she had learned. At least some of their story had been a lie. Of that, she was certain. She suspected they were telling the truth about accidentally entering Crystal Empire airspace and as such, they had not intended any threat towards the Crystal Empire. Because of that, she strongly suspected the Pegasus Guard would not find any reconnaissance equipment aboard the aircraft. That brought a frown to her muzzle. It's unlikely she'd be able to charge them with espionage.

But, the actions they had taken during the flight also made her certain they were trying to hide from someone. She definitely did not believe their story that what they had chucked out of the aircraft was empty coffee cups and spoiling food. The more she thought about it, the more likely it seemed that her narcotics theory was correct. They'd been drug running and had disposed of the evidence once they'd realized they were probably going to be forced to land. If she could charge the humans with drug trafficking, that would be almost as good as being able to charge them with espionage. She'd be able to keep them in the dungeon for a very long time, she thought with a dark sense of glee. But that possibility was now a race against the clock. The ground team trying to find the objects they had dropped would have to find them before the team searching the aircraft finished their investigation. If that team finished first and found no evidence of espionage, she'd have to release the prisoners. The Pegasus Guard would escort them out of Crystal Empire airspace, and that would be the end of it. Even if the dropped items did turn out to be drugs, she wouldn't be able to do anything with the evidence once the humans had already left the Crystal Empire.

Her thoughts turned to the young Sergeant Boyd who had asked about her wing and told her about his friend who had lost his legs in the war. She felt a slight twitch of guilt poking at her. It hadn't really been nice of her to snap at him like she had. After all, he certainly had nothing to do with her injury. He wasn't even old enough to remember the war. He'd probably been one or two years old at the time.

She quickly hardened herself again, pinching off that line of thought like putting a kink in a running garden hose. She didn't have to be nice to the human prisoners. She didn't even have to be courteous to them. She just had to be fair. And it's not like she was planning to frame them. To punish them for a crime based on evidence she didn't have. She just hoped that they had committed a crime, and that the evidence would be found so that she could punish them. There was nothing wrong with that, was there? Next Chapter: III Estimated time remaining: 5 Hours, 40 Minutes