The Cliff's Edge Hotel had been a new resort on the island when the balefire bombs fell and prevented the grand opening from proceeding on schedule. Even more than 200 years later, it was in surprisingly good condition, the rich and glitzy craftsponyship holding up well, a product of dedicated earth ponies cashing in on the island's status as a tourist destination.

Clopping down hallways with rotting carpeting squishing under her hooves, Virescent was able to pick up all this information about the huge hotel from tattered brochures, immaculate rooms waiting for guests, and the stories told by bleached pony bones scattered about. Searching as they went for anything useful didn't turn up much beyond the grim stories of the dead past however.

"Soooo... about this church dollface... You really were a member before?" Nick Hearts n' Hooves pulled back from peeking in another room, turning to the present and trying conversation to fill the creepy silence.

While she wished for practically any other subject, even the macabre questions of how the skeleton in the jantiorial rags had met his end locked in a broom closet with one in the skimpy rags of a maid's outfit, Vira nodded anxiously and gave a reluctantly honest answer to her employer. She owed him that much.

"I was. I am not proud of it. The Institute lied to my sisters and I, but I was gullible enough to believe them and quite fervent in spreading their twisted message." Vira felt her ears droop with her somber reply, trudging ahead to the wide intersection of hallways and dead elevators ahead.

Nick's thoughts didn't feel judgmental at her admission at least. The synth detective hurried along to catch up and raised an eyebrow, pulling out his battered notepad and flipping through the pages as he spoke. "No worries sweetheart, just trying to get all the info I can to work with. Any idea what they're doing all the way out here on beautiful Fog Harbor? They don't seem like the tourist type, think the Institute is backing them?"

"I... I do not know Nick. They should not be here, it was a cult formed to fleece the sick to be used as experiments, but only in Trotson. If they are spreading, I believe it is on their own. They may have taken the false hope the religion offered and galloped away with it. I only hope the Institute is not involved, for the synths of Acadia as well as myself. I... I am afraid of them and what they may do to me... and ashamed I ever helped them..." Admitting her fears and what had become of her own wrongdoing was hard, but Vira had decided to tell the truth, even the uncomfortable parts.

Her fears about Nick's opinion of her lessening were blown away by his concerned caring and gentle hoof tilting her chin up. "Hey now, none of that. They're bad news alright, but they'll have to get through me to get to you, and there's no love lost between me and my creators either. Sounds like you know the score now and are trying to make amends. So what if you were one of the bad guys before. I told ya, I got a soft spot for dames trying to turn things around."

Vira smiled down at the grinning robot, sniffling back a tear and nodding firmly. "Something I am very glad for Nick. Looking back on all I've done... I am embarrassed and ashamed now. When we first met, I tried to kill the very male I now wish to find by all the goddesses! To think he would forgive me... protect me... I still don't understand it. Redemption was one of those catch all terms it was popular to preach about, but much more difficult in reality than when I did so."

Nick gave a hearty laugh and patted her slumping shoulder as he lit a cigarette. "Old worlders like us are sappy like that sometimes, things used to be a lot different, ponies used to be a lot different... Forgiveness and mercy used to be higher priorities for us, no wonder they're unfamiliar to you, huh? You're doing good now, I'm sure he'd be happy. You'll just have to ask him yourself once we're done chasing our tails here."

Any time the subject of the male alicorn came up brightened Vira's mood, the unspoken implication from her synth employer this time made her green eyes twinkle as she tilted her head down at him hopefully. "Really? You will help me find him? Share this... locator thing?"

While Vira had basically understood Nick had a way of finding the male hidden on his own pip-buck beneath his tattered trenchcoat, his sharing of this treasure had still been a conditional part of her pay, a carrot he dangled that she happily pranced after. Hearing him speak consolingly to her now though, it seemed he had made up his mind by his wry thoughts taking in her fidgeting before the double doors leading out.

"You ain't trying to hide things from me anymore sweetheart, you admitted all that even though you don't like it. Plus you're a sweet dame Vira, I don't think Fast would mind, so yeah, all yours. I'll take you to him myself if you want, once this is all done of course. I'll hoof over his locator tag any time you want, I trust you."

Vira's eyes grew wide and shimmered as she dove forward and snatched the smaller synth up into a powerful hug, fluttering up and spinning her way through the doors leading out into a cavernous lobby. Nuzzling and burbling happily as she drifted over the railing of the second floor entrance they had found, she was happy enough to overlook his worried yelp squirming in her hooves and looking down to the litter strewn floor far below. Beyond getting what she wanted, the fact he really did trust her was just as uplifting. Vira had a real friend in the strange synth.

"Thank you Nick! Thankyouthankyouthankyou!" Vira cheered as she spun gracefully through the air, finally remembering Nick's discomfort with flying when she felt the chilly thoughts radiating from him. "Oh! Sorry Nick, I'll go back down right away!"

She touched down before the round check in counter in the center of the large lobby, watching as he straightened his sloppy tie and tipped his fedora with a shudder. "N-No problem doll, just take it easy. If I wasn't built sturdy you might'a sprained something there. Hmm, looks like we're not the first to go poking around in here, take a look Junior Detective, tell me what you see."

"Junior Detective?" Vira gave an unsure smile at the new title, glad to feel the positive intent behind Nick's merry nod, but still confused as to what he meant by it and his appraising yellow on black eyes following her.

The wry chuckle and expansive wave of his plastic covered hoof out to the room was an invitation, a sense of satisfaction and hopeful encouragement swirled around the odd synth along with the cigarette smoke from his smiling exhale. "Junior Detective, 3rd Class to be precise. Sounds like a new line of work was just what you needed when I hired you, right Vira? You've got a major leg up with the whole mindreading bit, but a lot of the job is old fashioned powers of observation. Consider this training. I'd give you a badge, but may take some time to dig up enough unopened boxes of Sugar Apple Bombs."

Nick pointed out a ragged tent set up behind the counter as he dusted himself off, waving her on to practice her skills of deduction under his tutelage. She could hear his thoughts appraising her as she looked over the makeshift camp site, feeling a rush of gratitude towards her employer as she puzzled them out.

Nick wasn't just using her for her unique abilities, as so many others had attempted to use her... Instead he really wanted to teach her his craft, give her more than just orders and caps for following them. The synth detective was trying to give her a career beyond that of a cult leader, a sense of self and accomplishment based off more than her natural abilities and advantages.

His vote of confidence and the warm compassion made her shame and worry over what she had been before lessen somehow. If Nick was willing to teach her as a real assistant, she felt all the more determined to make the most of the opportunity and do a good job.

There was a blackened scorch mark on the marble floor from a long cold campfire, musty bedding that smelled mostly of damp and fog, with a hint of unwashed pony underneath. The scent of dried blood clung to the scattered belongings in and around the tent, an overturned rack formed from a bellhop's cart had the scattered hides of a few radrabbits.

Taking a wider look around with Nick, Vira spotted several rusty bear traps she had overlooked when she landed, glad she hadn't accidentally stuck a hoof in the sharp metal jaws. The way they were arrayed around the abandoned camp fell in with the other clues and she ventured a guess to Nick trotting around one of the traps, this one closed on a twisted hunk of meat and splashed with black blood.

"Trappers? Like the ones we encountered with Longfellow?" Hearing her voice echo in the large room was creepy, but Nick's congratulatory nod cheered her, encouraging her skills at deduction.

"Got it in one. Looks like they've been gone awhile though, and not down to the corner store. Keep those peepers peeled doll, something nasty got em." Nick kicked a severed hoof out from behind a moldy couch in reply, drawing his revolver as he crept around the lobby.

With memories of the horrible mistgulls outside still fresh in her mind, Vira followed his lead, trotting around the other side of the circular arrangement of rotting seating between the check in counter and the wall of dirty glass leading outside. The ever present fog swirled beyond the floor to ceiling windows, wafting in cracks and breaks in the glass, making the ancient chandiliers overhead jingle and shift, bringing in the smell of decay tickling her flaring nostrils.

The crinkle of paper not rotting with age under her hoof drew her eye to a light green sheet of paper on the floor. Vira floated up a bloodstained flier of some kind, scanning the festive red font of the text and wreath decorating the round, gear shaped symbol associated with Stable-Tec. "Hmm... perhaps this is what drew these trappers here? 'Come to the fabulous Cliff's Edge Hotel this holiday season for a special presentation of a Hearth's Warming tale, performed by the residents of Stable 118... Tickets on sale next month, tell your friends...' A play? Wait, a Stable?"

Looking outside through the mist, Vira could see the wings of the horseshoe shaped hotel disappearing to either side of her vantage from the central lobby. The ruined remains of quite a few rather fancy sky carriages and chariots were strewn about, some canted wildly on the wide, round disc at the center of the circular drive. Craning her head up for a better look, Vira realized the half tilted, giant ponyhole cover looking adornment was familiar from memories that weren't her own.

"Ah! Nick! I think there really is a Stable here!" Vira pranced to herself excitedly and pointed out at her discovery, prattling on in a rush and forgetting caution. "It is just like the image of 111's entrance I have seen memories of! Advertising their presence for a play seems odd... but Longfellow said there was one on the island. That's where his wife acquired my pip-buck! He said she traded with the residents, so there must be a way in and..."

The crash of Nick's revolver cut off her babbling, drawing a sharp gasp from her as she followed the blur of movement and wet thump across the cavernous lobby. "That's great and all Vira, but think I just found what checked the last guests out here! Head's up!"

Groans and moans rose up all around them as the compass at the bottom of Vira's vision filled with red marks, each lining up with a soggy pony corpse shuffling up to their hooves and lurching their way. Feral ghouls... they blended in with the rack and ruin around them, further camouflaged by the mottled, greyish-pink tint to their rotten hides.

Cantering back to Nick's retreat towards the check in counter, Virescent summoned a pair of curved daggers made of her glowing green magic. Creating weapons of arcane force was a personal thing and required focusing on every aspect of the object to be summoned, the daggers had been her go to version of the spell and the easiest for her to use. Sending them spinning out at the zombie ponies staggering up to charge the two of them was instinctual and most effective.

Considering the similarities she had already noted between creatures of the strange fog blanketing the island, and the insidiuous pink cloud that had stymied her mother's efforts to explore the ruins of Canterlot, Vira didn't take any chances. Canterlot Ghouls were notoriously difficult to dispatch permanently, if these bloated and rotten fog zombies were anything like them, removing the head or destroying the brain were the only guaranteed options.

The spacious lobby offered her plenty of obstacles the uncoordinated undead couldn't navigate nearly as well as she could simply by taking to the air. Generally feral ghouls were an annoyance rising up to a threat with great enough numbers, with the ability to leave most of them mindlessly galloping below her, only the pegasi could follow her agile course around the room.

With her serving as a distraction, Nick seemed to have the ground bound foes well in hoof, so Vira kept a looping course around the check in desk and array of traps he sheltered behind, allowing him to pick off her pursuers with unhurried shots from his revolver. The noise and motion seemed to elicit a basic response from the creatures, but they were much more focused on her as a living pony, versus the artificial and less tasty synth.

Making another banking turn around Nick as he quickly reloaded, Vira grabbed an array of ancient luggage and broken furniture in her emerald telekinesis, adding to the obstacle course the undead clambered and tripped over chasing her. A quick loop de loop around a sodden, straight couch she yanked towards herself smashed a pair of zombie pegasi off her tail.

With a large section of the marble floor beneath her now clear of heavy objects to fling around, Vira adjusted her flight at Nick's direction, spiraling under the tilted and shifting chandelier. "Clump those mugs up nice and tight Vira! I got your back ace!"

Following the steady barrel of his revolver, Vira's eyes flicked up to the jingling light fixture and understood what he was hoping for. She tightened her corkscrew turn and cast a wall of glowing green shield spell beneath her, doing so while flying wouldn't produce her strongest barrier, but was more than enough to corral the snarling zombies snapping at her hooves.

Once they were slipping and stumbling over each other in the shrinking circle of her shield directly under the chandelier, Nick shouted a warning and fired. Vira broke away as the .45 bullet shattered the chain mooring the fixture to the ceiling, the heavy brass framework and sharp shards of crystal falling on the gaggle of fog zombies with a reverberating crash.

Vira landed lightly beside her employer trotting up, the boom of his gun cutting short the horrible, rending noise of necromancy trying to restore the broken bodies pinned under the chandelier. Nick moved from corpse to corpse where they groaned on the floor, efficiently ending their struggles with one shot to the head for each that remained.

"Great work doll, keep your guard up though. Where there's some ferals, there are usually more." At his absent warning, Vira nodded and her ears flicked at each echoing gunshot. All the noise was sure to wake up any more of the creatures still lying about in here with them.

Taking the opportunity to remind herself about the Eyes Forward Sparkle system hovering at the bottom of her vision, Vira panned her head around slowly. Ignoring the red dashes above the compass diminishing with each round from Nick's hoof cannon, the arcano-tech device on her foreleg didn't seem to recognize any more threats nearby. After trotting in a full circle, she tilted her head in confusion at what it did report however. There was a green dash that didn't match up to the one she saw when facing Nick...

"Green is good, correct Nick?" Vira spoke up quietly once the last zombie pony had been put down, pointing a wing towards the only other mark displayed on E.F.S. now.

Facing towards the curving staircases going upstairs from the lobby with her, Nick shook the spent cartridges from his weapon and reloaded again. His caution made her concerned she didn't understand the fairly straightforward threat identification spell she was still learning, but he nodded and responded positively to her question.

"By and large, yeah Vira, green is good. Don't go counting on it as an ironclad rule though, especially when they're still hiding out somewhere. Hey there! All clear, thanks for the help and all... Help you with something pally?" Nick called out warily to whoever was in the hotel with them, keeping his weapon trained on the strange, soft puttering noise approaching upstairs.

He relaxed somewhat when a pale robot hovered up to the railing above the check in counter, still keeping an eye on it as it waved one claw tipped appendage down and replied in a feminine, Fancee accented voice. "Allooo! How wonderful, just when I was considering where to summon ze authorities from! And they say there's never a policepony vhen you want one!"

"Police?" Vira blanched at the happy robot drifting down towards them, glancing to Nick with a raised eyebrow as he holstered his revolver.

Tapping the ancient holster under his trenchcoat pointed out the corroded gold star still clipped to the cracked leather, solving at least one mystery. The robot recognized Nick as an old world authority figure, his badge of office marked him as one of the ponies in blue, even 200 years later.

Nick's thoughts silently assured her as he rolled along with the robot's assumption, tipping his brown fedora to the Miss Handy bobbing before them. "Your lucky day alright ma'am. Detective Nick Hearts n' Hooves, Trotson P.D., can we help you with something? Er.. beyond these... dangerous criminals here I mean."

By the run of his thoughts, Nick had experience dealing with his less advanced kin and had found going along with their sometimes wildly inaccurate assumptions to be easiest. Vira had usually regarded the broken down wind up toys of the past to be annoying, going on with their programming and tasks these centuries later, to varying degrees of success and danger to those around them. Compared to the advanced synth with real thoughts and feelings, they were primitive ancestors of Nick, not deserving of the same consideration in her opinion.

This one certainly seemed like it may have a screw loose or be as oblivious as many she had run into before by it's burbling reply, though what it said did catch her attention. "Oui-oui monsiuer Detective. I had attempted to call the local constable, but our telephone service has been spotty lately. I'm thrilled to accomplish my task so easily running into you! Ve have had a terrible crime commited on the premises and are in dire need of law enforcement. This way, please!"

Nick cracked a wry grin up to Vira's confused look, shrugging and following the round robot back up the stairs. "Never know when or where you'll run into a case sweetheart, let's check it out."

The second floor overlooking the lobby had seen a lot of damage over the years, the broken remains of another set of stairs going even further up were barely recognizable among the wreckage blocking most of the walkway ringing the room. At the Miss Handy's guidance, they trotted away from the door Nick and Vira had entered through to the west, exiting through an identical door to the eastern wing of the hotel.

Vira frowned following the synth and the pale robot leading them on. While she was glad to be in Nick's employ and his student, she didn't expect becoming a detective to come with so many distractions. "But we are already on a case Nick... Why would you look out for more? Should we not focus on one thing at a time?"

The rain dripping through the rotted holes of the second floor ceiling and distant rumble of thunder served as an illustration of Nick's answer, picking his way around the detritus and ruin of the fancy hotel. "Well, first off, guessing it's not a good idea to go wandering around in the dark after our little flight here Vira, let alone in the dark and rain. Not too keen on putting my waterproofing gaskets to the test if I can avoid it, and we don't know if the rain is as nasty as the fog here."

Since the fog seemed somehow related to the terrible pink cloud of the zebras, Vira supposed he had a point there. The rain was one of the few times the ruins of Canterlot became marginally less deadly as it temporarily washed the necromantic zebra magic away for awhile. Glimpses through the windows of the rooms they passed showed the fog here didn't follow that rule however, still shrouding the outside in a haze of pinkish grey.

"Then we could rest and leave in the morning, couldn't we? I'm interested in seeing this Stable as long as we're here, but I still don't understand taking on another case Nick." Vira grumbled back, her complaints put on hold as more bloated fog zombies lurched out of a large conference room they passed.

It was only half a dozen of the undead monsters, wearing tattered remains of moldy suits and ties, business ponies locked in a meeting that even death hadn't released them from. Between the three of them they were able to dispatch the new threat easily enough, Nick's revolver and Vira's magic dealt with five in short order, while the last was actually put down by the buzz saw blade bizarrely attached to the Miss Handy helper robot.

"Oooh, pardon Monsieur Detective, I'm afraid the guests 'ave been rather unruly lately. Right this way, we must use the secondary entrance ahead, Stable-Tec has not come to repair the main lift outside, despite repeated sternly worded letters and calls." The robot flicked the blackened blood from its weapon and spun from the 'guest' it had dismembered, returning to its mission of leading them to the Stable as if nothing of note had happened.

Continuing to go along with the off kilter robot, Nick nodded sympathetically. "Everypony's been a little hard to reach out to the last little while alright Ma'am. We don't mind taking the long route, gives me a little time to get to know our lovely guide. So, what can you tell me about this crime gorgeous?"

While she couldn't read what passed for robotic thoughts from the round machine bobbing along ahead of them, Vira stuck her tongue out at Nick's flirting and the bubbly reply. "Oh Detective you flatterer you, call me Pearl please! I am afraid vou will have to speak with Majordomo Maxwell down below for the details, all I know is it is terrible, a murder most foul."

Near the end of the curving hallway, the Miss Handy named Pearl hovered into a damp and chilly room, waving them after her. The ceiling had completely collapsed here, flattening the bed and leaving a large section leaning down against it, forming a ramp that Pearl floated up and out to the foggy roof.

Nick shrugged back to his assistant as he clambered up the makeshift ramp, drawing his revolver once on the roof and waiting for her to gracefully flap her way out. "Looks like hotel maintenance hasn't been too prompt either, huh Pearl? Anything you can tell me would be helpful though, what kind of place is this Stable, who are the major players, any suspects, things like that."

Vira kept flicking her eyes up to the skies, her ears laid back and shuffling around the various leaking holes in the roof in a tense crouch. The echoing 'caw' noise of the horrible Mistgulls was distant, but nearly impossible to pin down precisely with the way the fog muffled it, even Eyes Forward Sparkle only reported red dashes that quickly disappeared and flickered somewhere else. She felt her fur stand on end as the necromantic mist swirled around them, thinking again that maybe Longfellow was right... The fog here really seemed evil, the ominous noises around them could be deliberately masked by malign intent of the fog itself.

"Ah, of course Monsieur Detective. Stable 118 vas built for the creme de la creme of Equestrian high society, many famous and important ponies live there. Just because they are not born nobility and eligible for entry into Stable 1, doesn't mean they didn't deserve to survive as well, hmm? There are only about a dozen residents, but ze are all self made ponies who demand the very best. I can hardly imagine any of them committing such an act, but zere is nopony else! I only hope this does not ruin Mistress Plaid's play." Pearl answered Nick as she puttered along the roof unhurriedly, speaking with a note of pride about her masters and home.

At least the trip out in the open was short, the curved roof of the east wing ended at the round hub of the three story lobby area they had left. Most of the third floor was dingy glass, though a section of solid wall had fallen down to the roof ahead, making another ramp and entrance in the process. Vira waited for their escort and Nick to climb their way up, then launched herself up after them in a short flight that made the muffled bird calls around her pick up for a moment.

The third floor of the hotel's hub had been some kind of lounge, a round bar took up the center of the room, with various ruined seating arranged around it, all pointing out towards the cracked windows that would have once offered a magnificent view. Now all it showed was more of the pervasive fog, hints of trees and mountainous hills fading in and out of view.

Vira puzzled over the robot's answer about the crime and where they were going as she warily picked her way around the room, poking at corpses it appeared Pearl had already dealt with before they arrived. She didn't know much about Stables, other than what she had read out of a resident of 111's mind and heard elsewhere. She knew they were trouble, often dangerous even when functioning properly. Stable 2 had produced the Destroyer after all, other Stables had sent equally menacing Stable ponies out into the wasteland that had a habit of spreading chaos wherever they went.

She had never heard of a Stable with so few residents however. Well... she had once heard a rumor about a mythical 'Puppet Pony' wearing the double 7 that had become taboo in certain parts of Equestria. According to legend, this Stable 77 was only one pony and a box of puppets, but she doubted that was true.

Putting rumors aside, that made Stable 118 an oddity she had to ask about curiously. "Only a dozen? Why are there so few? Most Stables have many more from what I understand. And what's this about a play? The one advertised here?"

"There were meant to be more from the lower classes, I believe their portion of the facility was not finished on schedule however. First class accommodations came first you see. A shame not to have more guests to serve, but our masters keep us plenty busy thankfully! Mistress Plaid's Hearth's Warming play has been a pleasant distraction itself, I'm so glad to see vou have chanced across one of the fliers!" Pearl replied with a hint of artificial sadness at the numerous lives lost that should have been saved, quickly returning to her bubbly personality in response to the tattered flier Vira floated up and approaching the bar.

Looking over to the robot Pearl when she spoke answered more than one question for her anyway. The multi limbed machine had floated over the bar and to a large square pillar that held a lot of shelving for mostly broken and dusty bottles of alcohol. An unobtrustive door was standing open on the side facing the barely visible gear shaped lift in the cul de sac below, leading to a small elevator Pearl beckoned them towards.

Longfellow said his wife traded with the inhabitants of the Stable and she had been wondering how his mate had managed it if it meant wandering the labyrinthine hotel as they had. Longfellow's wife Ocean Breeze was a pegasus from what little Longfellow said of her however, she could have flown directly to this area as easily as Vira herself had she known where to go.

"Most Stables don't advertise their whereabouts like this, especially to put on a play... it seems rather silly actually. Don't you know much about the outside? The ponies up here aren't really theater goers.... you may have attracted your murderer yourselves by putting these up." Vira shook the flier with a snort, stunned any Stable dwellers would pull so ill advised a stunt and a little leery of cramming herself in the tiny elevator Pearl was ushering them to.

Her admonishment over the foolishness of the flier that attracted the dead Trappers didn't seem to sink in with Pearl, scanning the document with one of her eyestalks while the other two remained fixed on the two detectives. "I must admit, ticket sales 'ave not been quite what we hoped for, but we just began advertising. Hearth's Warming Eve is still a month off, so I am sure word of mouth will spread, all the more important to put this nasty murder business behind us quickly! This way please detectives, I assure you it is safe!"

Vira stroked her gifted pip-buck reassuringly as she reluctantly squeezed into the elevator with Nick and the robot. If Ocean Breeze had traded for the gadget and brought it out successfully, the way down must be safe enough, despite the way it creaked and shuddered as it lowered unsteadily.

When the small lift finally reached the bottom of the long shaft with a sickly sounding 'ding', Vira and Nick followed Pearl as the robot puttered off into the gloomy cavern they found themselves in. The walls were rough stone, though their hooves echoed off the steel grating covering the floor. Only a few flickering lights illuminated the area, though Vira's excellent night vision let her look over the much larger, round elevator to her right that presumably led up to the disc in the hotel's courtyard. Along with the wealth of pony bones shoved to the walls... Bizarrely, a small wooden ticket booth had been added recently, sitting beside the stairs up and waiting on an audience for the crazy Hearth's Warming play to come lining up down here.

Of much more interest was the rusty steel walls and rickety stairs leading up to a huge, gear shaped door, bearing the number 118 in faded and chipped yellow. Vira had never been into a Stable herself, standing in the shadow of one now filled her with a sense of superstitious dread. The Destroyer came from a place like this... the one who murdered her mother and opened the sky... Most wastelanders were leery of Stables as dangerous death traps in general, but to Vira and her sisters they were like a dragon's lair, potentially the home of somepony that could set the world on fire.

Nick and his new robotic friend felt none of her reticence, moving up the stairs to the control console beside the Stable door. At least Nick turned back when he realized she wasn't following, holding a gentlecoltly hoof out to her and speaking soothingly while Pearl chattered at the intercom. "You ok dollface? Look like somepony trotted on your grave. Nothing to worry about, if it's a bust we'll just head back up and find somewhere to bunk for the night."

"F-Fine Nick, Stables merely make me a bit anxious... Are you sure we should.... eep!" Vira approached Nick's reassuring hoof slowly, fluttering back and flinching when a loud klaxon sounded out and the cavern was bathed in flashing yellow lights.

Pearl had finished her chatting with whoever was on the other side and the door was opening. Vira felt her face heat up in embarrassment as she slinked out from behind the boulder she had dashed behind, looking up to the flakes of rust showering down with the grinding noises coming from the gear shaped portal. As the door slid back into the opening and rolled aside, Nick waved her out again with a soft chuckle, thankfully not teasing her for being a big scaredy foal.

Waiting on the other side was another spider like Robronco robot, this one a Mr. Handy by the black bowtie attached to its gleaming silver casing, along with the masculine, clipped Trottingham accent it spoke with. "Finally! I say, the guests have been in an uproar and I've been running out of things to tell them! This way if you please Detective!"

Nick followed the impatient robot without complaint, while Vira was still nervous crossing over the threshold and into the Stable's entry area. Finding yet another robot to greet them was concerning, especially as Vira had yet to see another living pony as they made their way down stairs and through winding passages rapidly. She could sense living minds at least, which reassured her, though the collective sense she got from them was a feeling of boredom being broken by anxiety, a nervous tension to the air as they drew nearer to the source.

At Nick's nudge as they trotted to keep up with their guide, Vira took the battered notepad he was offering her in his mouth, floating it along for him to scribble on while they walked down the surprisingly clean and well maintained passages.

Nick mumbled around the stubby pencil in his mouth, jotting things down on the notepad held in Vira's green magic and asking questions while they walked. "So, what's the problem mac? Your wandering subordinate there said something about a murder? How long ago? Any suspects?"

"Hmm yes, I shall have to have a discussion with Pearl about speaking out of turn. We do indeed seem to have a murder on our hooves Detective, the body was found this morning and has remained undisturbed. As for suspects I can't imagine any of our esteemed guests performing such a vile act, were they not the only ponies in a position to do so, I would be most insulted at the suspicion. We have several residents from the upper crust of Equestrian society here, stars of stage and screen, artists, captains of industry and finance, not at all the murdering types..."

Vira was only half listening as they made their way, more of her attention was taken up by oddities niggling at her as they wandered. Granted she had only shared memories of other Stables from Unity or others, but she'd never heard of one that looked so fancy. The halls were wide and the steel tiles clicking under her hooves polished to a mirror sheen, the wooden paneling in the current section practically glowed with polish, while tasteful furnishings and fake plants brought welcome splashes of color.

She spotted more robots like their guides so far who were responsible for the immaculate condition of the odd bunker, but no ponies so far. The further they walked, the stranger it seemed too. This was an awful lot of space for only a dozen residents, yet they hadn't completed accommodations for the 'lower class' guests? Just from what she had seen so far, that didn't make any sense. Vira had seen enough already to be suspicious, at least a hundred ponies could live in luxury here compared to the wasteland above. The overcrowded docks of Fog Harbor for example... they suffered while Stable 118 was safe and as posh as the hotel above once was?

"...has remained untouched to preserve any clues. If you could conduct your investigation quickly and without disturbing our guests, I would be most appreciative. All this has interrupted our preparations for the upcoming Hearth's Warming play next month and I'm anxious to tidy up and get back on schedule." The robotic butler Maxwell was finishing up, drawing her attention as it opened a wide double door labeled 'Theatre' in his claws and ushering them forward.

The scene inside just added to her opinion of this place having very disturbing priorities for a bunker ostensibly meant to save lives. They didn't have room to shelter more, but they had room for a full blown theatre? It was cavernous and well lit, rich red velvet curtains were draped from the far wall and a polished wooden stage was the center of focus. Well, the scrap heap surrounded by more robots was the focus, which happened to be onstage.

Looking around for the minds she felt react to their presence, Vira was confused on finding nothing more than more robots staring up at them, parting from the wreck of another of the odd machines that looked like it lost an argument with a locomotive. Spotting a bent and battered golden scepter near the ...head... of the thing that was covered in red made her gasp, slowly puzzling it out.

The minds she could read were contained in the bubbling glass domes atop each robot, there weren't any living ponies here... just these twisted things. Brainbots... Rarely one might find this model still functioning out in the wasteland, their form radically different from the floating Mr. and Ms. Handys or clomping Ponitrons she spotted milling about. They were all essentially machines though, the brains that made them smarter and deadlier than most were just a biological piece of the machine.

That's what her experience had always been at least. These were different... Their bodies were mostly the same, though she'd never seen a Brainbot with its chassis painted in the gleaming pastels and primaries these boasted, let alone with a cutie mark decal bolted over the treaded hindlegs. They had that same weird posture that always made her shudder though, the flexible forelegs alternating between clicking along in front of the treads when they leaned forward, to waving about and grabbing at things with the claws that popped out when they reclined on their... haunches?

She'd never been able to read thoughts from them before though. Now she shivered seeing those whirring eyes following their approach. The brains clearly visible in the crystal domes were pony brains... Thinking, feeling, pony minds... the shredded remains of the one that had those brains bashed out on the floor left no doubt. They looked no different in that regard than others she had seen either, meaning the magic that made these contraptions keep working all these years later was the same too. Brains in jars... Robot-pony hybrids... All too similar to the horrors she knew the Institute was responsible for back on the mainland.

"Everypony, everypony your attention please! Not to worry, the authorities have arrived and this unpleasantness will all be behind us shortly. If you would be so kind as to return to your rooms, I am sure the Detective will be along to question you shortly." The robotic butler in charge bobbed forward and waved the lookie loos aside, deferential while being firm.

Vira shuddered again, feeling the disappointment radiating off the mechanical monstrosities, she felt hardly any sadness, only annoyance at having something out of the ordinary taken away. Like vague memories she had of ponies in the old world doing the same thing at the scene of some carriage accident. Death and dismemberment made for such an irresistible entertainment, somehow that had never changed in all the ages.

By the disapproval she could feel coming from Nick lighting another cigarette as he looked over, she knew the former police pony was probably thinking along the same lines. Too many memories to even hope to take in flitted behind his strange eyes, of crime scenes and every type of misery ponies could inflict on each other or any other creature in their path.

It made his tired chuckle all the more jarring, trotting forward and getting down to work. "See doll, never know when you'll run into an interesting case. Let's see what this is all about..."

"Maxwell! What are these outsiders doing here!? I told you to get this taken care of, not invite riff raff in for tea!" Once nearly all of the robobrain residents had wandered off, one of the two remaining shouted in a gruff, masculine voice with an odd accent Vira couldn't place.

Nick joined her in looking up from his careful inspection of the crime scene, watching as the fully robotic Mr. Handy Maxwell replied in a soothing, deferential tone. "The authorities Mr. Stripes sir, as requested. This is Detective Hearts n' Hooves from the Trotson Police Department and his assistant Vira, Pearl returned sooner than expected so we should have this nasty business sorted out in no time I assure you. Is that not so Detective?"

Putting on a reassuring smile, Nick flashed his ancient badge instead of his battered business card, a strange kind of nostalgia and seriousness coming with his thoughts as he relieved the badgered robot butler. He sounded as charming as always, but part of him was taking this as a different kind of case than the initial curiosity he had regarded it as when they followed Pearl down here.

Vira could feel the heavy weight of a sense of duty to the tarnished old police badge he'd recently been reunited with flowing off him, firm and sure in his conflicted thoughts. Even centuries after the police of old Equestria had ceased to exist, Nick felt an obligation to his oath and a connection to his old life that he couldn't ignore.

"Sure thing mac, lucky for you folks eh Mr.... Stripes was it? Wouldn't happen to be any relation to the old real estate magnate by the same handle would it? Guessing you're in charge then? Mind if I ask a few questions to get started?" Nick asked questions in his disarming fashion, but Vira could hear he knew some of the answers already, playing up his clueless detective routine and holding a hoof out.

The image in his mind was of a very elderly and rich earth pony he remembered from the old world, some wealthy Manehatten developer essentially famous for being famous, along with crass, loud and pushy. The picture in Nick's mind did remind Vira of the robot thing before them, painted a gleaming white with purple accents and a pair of striped stars stamped on the plate covering its treads. The color scheme matched the once living coat, mane and cutie mark of a prewar pony he was aware of anyway, and what she picked out of Mr. Stripes' all too visible brain meshed with Nick's opinion of him. Though the guarded thoughts and oddly feminine mental voice made her squint suspiciously at the strange robot.

While Mr. Stripes did immediately agree he was in charge, of pretty much all he surveyed by his thoughts... he didn't seem very happy to be questioned at all. He certainly never expected his robot slaves to actually find the police Pearl had been sent out to look for, a flash of anger and frustration bubbling through his thoughts as he ignored Nick's friendly hoof and jabbed a clawed foreleg out at the pair of unwelcome detectives.

"Yes I mind! I'm a very important pony and have no time for some tin can detective and his overgrown blank flank freak sticking their noses in where they don't belong! Very busy... Plaid! You deal with these 'detectives' you were foolish enough to send for, get this investigation silliness over with so we can get back to normal around here!" Mr. Stripes spun on his treads and nearly bowled over the orange brainbot following at his side, storming off and leaving in a tantrum.

The remaining robot he called Plaid felt a flicker of shame and hurt at the rude dismissal, mastering her own confusion and shaking Nick's hoof apologetically before the synth had withdrawn it. "S-Sorry, Daddy's usually not quite so gruff, today's been a really bad day is all. I'm his daughter, Plaid Stripes, usually I take care of running things for him anyway, so I should be able to help you detective. He said I was being silly sending Pearl out, but I'm really happy she found somepony to help. It's been so long since we had visitors, I just wish it was under better circumstances. I-It's just terrible, so he's upset..."

Vira highly doubted Mr. Stripes was upset, about the murder of one of the guests at least. He seemed a thoroughly unlikable stallion and his blank flank crack didn't improve her opinion, sending her wing back to cover the bare expanse self consciously as she glowered at his retreating back. She liked the younger Stripes much more than her father on feeling genuine anguish and embarrassment over his rudeness coming from her however, along with a barely restrained sense of wonder and excitement over the pair of outsiders before her.

Even without the benefit of listening in to their thoughts as Vira could, Nick didn't think Mr. Stripes was bothered by the murder either. He still nodded thoughtfully and agreed with Plaid as he returned to looking over the body and jotting down notes. "Of course sweetheart, different ponies show their feelings different ways, and murder's a nasty business. Glad we were in the neighborhood and able to help. Are you alright to answer a few questions then? Who's the victim for starters?"

Plaid wheeled up to the 'corpse' with them, giving a shaky sigh down to the pale pink chassis. "Spoiled Rich... She was one of our biggest investors and regular guests back before... Her husband was a Filthy Rich businesspony in the old world, always away on work, and her daughter was a grown mare working as a gem inspector or some such, so she was all alone here... She was always a hooffull, but she didn't deserve... this. D-Do you think you can help Detective Hearts n' Hooves? It's bad enough this happened, but if somepony got in and did this... It'll ruin everything! You have to catch them!"

There was a bit of a selfish whine in there that made Vira arch an eyebrow at the orange robot, but she still felt true sadness for the loss of life coming from Plaid Stripes. The sniffle in her voice going along with one of her claws reaching up to dab at her single whirring eye with the bright pink bola around her flexible neck, almost making Vira think the robotic mare was actually crying.

Nick went along with the impression too, pulling a musty handkerchief from his trenchcoat and holding it out to Plaid, though he knew as well as Vira there weren't any real tears there. The gesture meant more than the practicality however, putting Plaid at ease with the detective synth as much as his reassuring voice. "We'll do our best doll, don't you worry about that. By ruin things, it sounds like you mean more than just your little Hearth's Warming play we found a flier for though. Anything that might have been a motive?"

"Oh, no... not really, I mean... motive? I was just worrying about scaring the others. See... I wanted to invite an audience to the play is all, like I said, it's been a long time since we had guests. A long time ago we used to have a wonderful pegasus mare come to trade with us sometimes, but it's been years since she stopped coming and I was hoping to kind of open the Stable up to the outside. She told us there were still ponies up there, so I thought the play would let us find out about them and make friends... But if everypony's afraid of some murderer, there's no way they'll give my idea a chance when I finally managed to convince them. Wait, you mean like one of the other guests might have done this?" Plaid seemed surprised once she worked through things in her head, she truly hadn't considered the idea someone inside the Stable had committed this crime...

A flood of thoughts chased each other in a rush that Vira struggled to keep up with, gleaning what clues she could from the jumbled mess of Plaid's mind. It seemed the residents here had very little contact with the outside world at all, a flash of Longfellow's wife basically the only wasteland pony that came to mind, and that positive memory was fairly old. Unless Longfellow married a much younger mare than himself, it had to be decades ago at least judging by the vibrant pegasus mare she recognized from his memories. The shadowy image of 'MURDERER' Plaid thought of was assumed to be some scary outsider, not one of the mechanical creatures that had been her friends and neighbors.

From what she gathered, Plaid was one of few really advocating for dealing with the outside at all too, the gossip they had interrupted when they arrived centered on variations of the same theory. That some dirty wastelander had somehow penetrated the sealed Stable, murdered the pink robot before them, then disappeared into the fog. Vira might be new to being a junior detective, but even she could tell what was more likely...

Nick didn't point out how naive she was being though, picking up the bent scepter near the shattered braincase and answering calmly. "Most often in murder cases, it's somepony who knew the victim Ms. Stripes, a crime of passion and all that. So it's easiest to start close and eliminating suspects nearby before working our way out to find the killer. Everything you can tell us helps us do that, the victim have any enemies for example? You said she was a hooffull, was she not well liked? Anypony else vying for the role of Princess Platinum maybe? I'm sure a Sharp Cookie like you can think of somepony."

Ending on a chuckle and nodding at her old fashioned feathered cap denoting her own role in the play let Plaid return a shaky giggle at the dark joke, though it was only half joke by Nick's thoughts. He'd seen cases where fighting over something as trivial as playing a part, getting a promotion, or even who got the last cupcake had led to violent crime. Dark memories of his time working as a real police pony he kept out of his voice entirely, but Vira couldn't help picking up.

"Well... If I'm being honest, nopony liked Spoiled Rich very much Detective, she could be a real bitch actually. N-Not that I think anyone would hurt her for that though! We've all known each other forever, so we're used to her being crabby and demanding. Like she insisted on being Princess Platinum, even though she was against the play, and she's not a unicorn, o-or wasn't anyway..." Plaid's admission made some of the less than grief stricken feelings Vira had gotten from the others here make more sense, seeming to remind herself in the process about the strange nature of the residents of Stable 118 Nick had yet to ask about.

Given an opening, Vira couldn't help herself from voicing that question now though, glad to see Nick give a nod of approval as she barreled directly into it. "How are you all... like this Ms. Stripes? Robots? If Nick knew of your father, does that mean all of you are pre-war ponies? Were you like this before you came here? Did Stable-Tec do this to you? I've never heard of robots of your type that were... are... I am sorry to be rude, but it is very disconcerting..."

"Oh, yes of course... We all sorta forget, y-you get used to it, but I guess if we really did have outsiders come again, we'd have to start remembering how we look to others. A couple of our residents were important arcane science type ponies with Robronco, they supplied Maxwell, Pearl and all the others here. Professor Pickle even worked with the Ministry of Wartime Technology and the Ministry of Arcane Science! He brought all kinds of equipment and experiments with him to keep busy, all of us brought lots of stuff actually... I just wish we had brought more ponies! Anyway, when we came here and it was just us here, we couldn't really do the whole normal Stable routine like the books said. So we came up with this as a way to keep going."

"It was sort of my idea... Everypony always says I have crazy ideas, but Daddy and Mrs. Rich were old to begin with, when they got sick... They were the first to try it, the rest of us kind of followed over the years after. It's not so bad, we still sound like ourselves and Mr. Cane painted all of us so we can tell each other apart, and we even got to keep our cutie marks. N-Not that not having one is bad either... S-Sorry again about Daddy saying that Miss Vira, umm... you're kind of strange yourself though, n-no offense. Are there other Princesses outside? Ocean never said anything about alicorns out there!" Plaid jabbered rapidly in answer, her hyperactive thoughts giving Vira an idea why others might say she had strange ideas.

Not that it was unpleasant, actually it was amusing trying to follow along with her manic thoughts pinballing from one idea to the next now that Plaid was distracted by the subject. Plus she treated her as she would anypony else, even while pointing out the things that made Vira different, such as knocking on her own plaid striped heart cutie mark adorning her tread cover and pointing to Vira's blank flank curiously.

Unlike with Mr. Stripes, she didn't feel the same sense of shame or being 'less than' when Plaid acknowledged Vira's nature. As far as Vira could tell, Plaid found the unusual and out of the ordinary to be enchanting and felt no shame in being so herself. The very fact a robot and an alicorn were having the conversation was a wonder in itself she delighted in, some of the somber mood the body at their hooves brought on lifting in the process.

Being called a Princess made Vira give a rueful smile to the suddenly cheerier robot, rolling her emerald green eyes thinking of one of her blue sisters on the mainland who had actually claimed such a title. "I promise not to be insulted if you aren't Plaid. There are others like me, yes, though I'm no Princess, most of us aren't. I suppose we're both rather strange to the other, but we're just different kinds of ponies. I'd enjoy sharing those differences and learning more about yours if you like, er... Girl Talk as it were?"

Vira took Nick's directions from his silent thoughts, trying to be a good assistant and putting herself forward as he had volunteered her with Sumi. She may be new to the very concept of 'girl talk' as the synth detective put it, but had realized there were cases where she could learn things Nick couldn't as easily, even without using her psychic advantages. Plaid's internal squee of joy was already pretty encouraging that it would work again here, plus Nick was still teaching his new apprentice, letting Vira take the lead and ready to interject when needed.

Just their conversation so far had given him ammunition it seemed, listening closely as he continued investigating the crime scene and left her to it. He had lifted the rich violet robe to get a better look at Mrs. Rich's pink body, peering closely at her own diamond ring cutie mark on her dented casing and jotting notes as he inspected each 'wound'. Clearing his throat to remind the pair of mares of his presence now, Nick dabbed his hoof in the large splotch of red beneath the broken crystal dome of Spoiled Rich's brain, peering closely at the tacky bit of bright red on his pale plastic hoof.

"Mind taking a tour while you chat ladies? Think I'd like to start with this Prof. Pickle of yours Ms. Stripes, seeing as I'm in the robot club myself and all I have a few questions. This 'blood' for starters, Biomed gel in robobrains ain't red, this is... paint? You also mentioned a Mr. Cane that handles the lovely paint job you're sporting sweetheart? Think he may know anything about this?" Nick trotted up beside his assistant and lit a cigarette, nodding out to the halls the other robotic residents had wandered off to encouragingly.

"Right! I'll introduce you to everypony and help as much as I can. This is all awful, but maybe meeting you two will help show the others there are good ponies outside too! You can be like a dress rehearsal for letting others inside I bet, and if you solve the case, they'll have to give it a chance! C'mon, let's go!" Plaid discarded her costume hat in a happy nod, leaning forward with a whine of servos to prance ahead, her forelegs clicking on the floor and her treaded hindlegs whirring rapidly to keep up.

Now that she had cheered up a bit, Vira saw more of the mare Plaid must be when not under such strange circumstances and wanted to help her, even if it delayed her own plans. Plaid Stripes was a strange pony trying to reach out to others, like Vira was herself. It might be a minor distraction, but Vira wanted to support the eccentric mare and her crazy ideas.

She wanted to solve this case for her, like a good detective.

Or Junior Detective anyway...

With Plaid Stripes' acting as their guide, the exploration of the Stable and interviews with the residents went smoothly. Their first stop with the bright green painted Professor Pickle Jar took place in the huge room he shared with his gleaming silver wife Main Spring, the matching colored horns attached to their brain cases catching Vira's morbid attention and further marking them as different than the former earth pony models they had met so far. Their room was a cluttered space full of tools, fantastical arcano-tech parts and equipment, along with haphazardly stacked jars of pickles of every variety.

"My special talent! You can pickle eeeeeverything, even brains!" The somewhat absent minded stallion answered happily when Vira floated up a jar of pickled beets questioningly, rapping on the glass jar of pickles decorating his metal flank proudly. "Used to work for Robronco alright, had contracts with the Ministry of Wartime Technology too. How we wound up working on the Robobrain project back in Trotson. My better half handles more of the robotics side, but nopony beats me when it comes to sticking things in jars and preserving them, beets or brains either one."

Nick took over the questioning here to Vira's great relief, alternating between the married couple and asking very technical, arcane science related questions she struggled to keep up with. Both of them were giving as good as they got too, poking and prodding at the advanced synth while peppering him with their own questions. Even the pale Gen 1 prototype body Nick inhabited put their own clanking forms to shame and they were intensely interested to find out there were even more advanced synthetic ponies on the island.

Vira was glad to have Plaid showing her around the maze like room and dumbing things down for her, smiling to Mrs. Main Spring when she joined them and did the same, better able to recognize the smoke wafting from Vira's ears when trying to follow the techno babble Nick and Professor Pickle were still engaged in.

Weaving her way towards a complicated looking robot workstation composed of several articulated arms wielding tools mounted to a large platform, Vira shuddered at the half assembled, bare metal versions of her two companions and spoke carefully. "Mrs. Spring... I understand you all made yourselves this way to survive, but do any of you have... regrets? P-Perhaps problems dealing with your nature? I don't mean to offend, but many robots I've seen outside that resemble all of you are often...."

"What, bonkers? Yeah, we figured that would be a problem with the Robobrain model over time, never managed to work the kinks out on the mass production units. Their brains are blanks though, just a biological processor basically... er part of the machine I mean. Pickle and I have maintained everypony carefully here though. Some of us are a little... eccentric, but we're still who we were and pretty much sane." Main Spring gave a wry, robotic shrug up to the big alicorn ducking under the armatures and inspecting the machinery, speaking simply enough for Vira to follow gratefully.

Eccentric was a good word for what Vira had gleaned from the bubbling brains of her hosts so far. She sensed some worrisome thoughts and emotions that came from being so removed from equinity for so long, but the two scientists kept themselves busy and were proud of their work caring for their fellow robots.

She also felt a fondness Mrs. Spring and her husband shared for Plaid, prompting her to try to help her new friend while digging into the case. "Plaid said she hoped to open up the Stable and deal with other outsiders. I understand there's some tension regarding that idea... I suspect anything out of the ordinary could be related to the dreadful crime we're investigating. Plaid says Mrs. Rich was against it. What do you think of her hopes?"

Main Spring leaned back on her treaded haunches and reached up with a clawed foreleg, scratching the crystalline dome of her head out of habit in a very ponylike gesture, smoothing a mane that wasn't there and adjusting the blue bow clipped there as she hummed in thought. "Well, Pickle and I were for it... are for it dear, sorry. If some outsider killed Spoiled that will put a damper on the idea for awhile, but practically speaking it needs to happen eventually. Spare parts are going to become an issue you see, we've stretched and fixed everything we brought with us, but we'll need more one way or the other. We hoped to maybe do a little trade with the ponies outside if that's possible, but we haven't heard anything about the outside in years. Hope you don't mind if we ask as many questions as you two detectives do while you're here! Will you be staying awhile so we can talk more?"

Before Vira could answer, Plaid joined in at Mrs. Spring's side, grabbing Vira's slender hoof in her claws and putting a pleading whine to her voice processor that warbled a bit on the high note at the end. "Oh yeah! You have to at least stay the night while you're on the case, right Vira? Or longer if you want! We'll set you up with a room and put on a meal and everything! We have lots of food still since none of us eat, and beds we don't use since we don't really sleep... I mean we all go to 'bed' at night, but not really so they're just sitting there empty! Pleeeeeeease!"

"O-Oh... I suppose we'll stay the night at the least, we had hoped to when we arrived at the hotel upstairs anyway and we can't leave until we find the culprit. You'll have to ask Nick since he's my boss, but I would like that." Vira gave an unsteady smile at Plaid's slightly manic thoughts, feeling empathy for the clear loneliness and longing behind her words.

Vira understood feeling lonely, even surrounding by others of her kind. She had felt much the same after Unity was broken and she had been left alone, without the guiding voice of her mother always with her. Even when she had joined a group of her sisters and struck out for the lost city of Trotson to find their way, she had felt alone in the group in some ways.

Eventually she had squabbled with the others and broke off, becoming a willing pawn for the Institute and a leader of their twisted Church of Balefire. A group still waiting outside that she had to deal with... making the prospect of spending some time in the strange Stable 118 rather tempting. Staying here as long as it took meant avoiding doing something she was afraid of in tracking them down.

Shaking off the shiver that ran down her tail thinking about it, Vira cocked her head at Mrs. Spring producing a screwdriver from a slot in her flexible foreleg and tinkering with the glowing panel that lit up when Plaid spoke. "Oh that's great! I'll tell Daddy and the others you're our guests and we'll pull out all the stops! Zesty will be happy to have ponies to cook for I bet! And maybe Ms. Polomare willzzzzzt!"

"Hold still Plaid dear, you've been putting off a checkup on this voice processor too long. See what I mean about parts Detective? Shouldn't fritz out on the high notes like that, but it's an ongoing battle to keep things in good shape." Main Spring sprouted more tools from her forelegs and silenced Plaid with a squawk of static.

Though she was rendered mute, Vira could still hear Plaid Stripes' thoughts, peering over Mrs. Spring's domed head and filling the silence for the bright orange robot. "Can you fix it? It seems horrible to simply lose your voice because that part broke, none of you sound like other robots, is it special? I know of a talented repair-pony in Trotson..."

Mrs. Spring kept working as she answered, drifting into technical territory but thankfully keeping it simple. "Same basic parts as your standard robobrains, so nothing special at least. Sure wish we could raid the old Robronco Technologies Facility we used to work at in Trotson though, we'd have all the parts we need then! But don't worry, I'll have her babbling again in just a tic. Just have to retune her to her proper prattling old voice, just a basic audio sample does the trick though."

Vira watched as Main Spring grabbed a few nearby parts and quickly replaced their corroded counterparts in Plaid's open mouth panel. That done, a panel slid aside on Plaid's chest at the push of a button, allowing Mrs. Spring to slot in a dusty holotape from a plastic case she wheeled over to grab from a cluttered cabinet. Vira recognized the storage medium as holotapes were ubiquitous in the wasteland, the pip-buck on her foreleg even had a slot to accept and play them, though she had yet to attempt using that function of the device.

Mrs. Spring muttered as the holotape whined in Plaid's chest, rearranging the case full of matching orange tapes labeled with marker scrawled names of the residents. "Pickle is always messing up the order... Mr. Stripes' tape belongs here, not down there... Don't fall in love with a mad scientist girls, unless you have a lot of patience."

Vira blushed thinking of the stallion she wanted to find once she left the island, enjoying Mrs. Springs warm yet exasperated glance to her husband still chatting with Nick. She could feel the love the machine pony felt for her absent minded buck and longed to feel that way herself. A firm, deep bond born of centuries together. Mrs. Spring complained out of habit, but Vira could sense that warm emotion like an invisible conduit connecting them.

She loved everything about her husband, even his more annoying traits. They knew each other inside and out, her complaints part of a long practiced dance Vira could see the steps of playing in Mrs. Spring's mind. Would Vira herself get to know the buck she pined for like that? Feel such warmth in her own heart over such trivialities? Would he forgive her mistakes and love even her faults?

The only way to find out would be to return to Trotson and find him, a goal she kept in mind that pushed her on, gave her courage and patience when she needed it. She was heartened to realize she didn't have to be perfect to form the kind of relationship these two shared, that the bad came with the good and even her own numerous faults and past misdeeds could be loved as part of her. Even if it took time, she was resolved to be a better pony than she had been when she found him, to forge the first links in a bond like Professor Pickle and Main Spring shared.

Vira's soft smile at her musing was shook off when she realized Mrs. Spring had continued talking while she daydreamed. She turned a shade redder as she returned to the task at hoof, listening to the mare who had come to the subject of their current case on her own while finishing Plaid's repairs. "...don't know what we'll do when we run out of parts though. That's one good thing about Spoiled kicking the bucket at least, she was obnoxious about every little thing being perfect, took all the best parts for herself and wasted a lot of our time and resources. At least we'll be able to salvage a lot off her fancy body."

"O-Oh? Plaid said Mrs. Rich was ...demanding. Not very well liked from what I understand, was she really that bad? Did she cause problems for you two?" Vira shook off the last of the fluttery feeling in her chest with a whinny, gently probing Mrs. Spring's mind at the surge of sour emotions when she thought of the murder victim.

"Don't get me wrong Detective, I may have joked about pushing her down the elevator shaft to the unfinished section sometimes, but everypony did. You know she even insisted we use her jewellery to make her own special components? Greedy old mare wanted to be better than everypony else, carry all her precious bits on her everywhere. Was practically a hypochondriac too, came in for the least little squeak and demanded replacement parts, no simple repairs for Spoiled Rich. I won't lie, I'm not sad to see her go, though it is a shame. She can take her bitching to the Goddesses now, I only hope they can make her happy." Mrs. Spring's more open thoughts turned slightly defensive at Vira's question, but she didn't sense any guilt or evasiveness.

Nick and Professor Pickle trotted over as Mrs. Spring finished up, relieving the mild panic building in Plaid's mind at being rendered mute. Her detective friend's sharp hearing had been keeping tabs on their conversation, joining in as he continued jotting things in his notepad.

"May she rest in peace under the grace of the Goddesses. Think I got just about everything we need from you folks, though I hoped to ask you for a favor before we move on. Normally in a case like this, we'd do an autopsy and see if the boys in the morgue could give us any clues. Seems you two are the ponies to see here though, think you're up to assisting in the investigation before you scrap her?" Nick took his fedora off and held it to his chest, bowing his bald head to a pair of clomping Ponitrons just finishing dragging the sheet covered body of Spoiled Milk to the workbench in the corner.

Professor Pickle shared his wife's lack of grief for Spoiled Rich, a bubbly sensation of excitement coming through clearly as he joined his wife's inspection of Plaid's repaired voice processor. "Interesting huh dear? We get to do an 'autopsy' instead of just stripping her down, help with the investigation even!"

Mrs. Spring wasn't as easily enthused as her husband, giving a sigh to the sheet covered corpse and holding her clawed forelegs out in a shrug. "Not sure what you expect us to tell you Detective. Cause of death is pretty clear, somepony bashed her brains out. Would have taken a pretty good swing with that scepter prop, our brain cases aren't as fragile as they look. Mr. Withers used to be a ball player for the Trotson Redhooves, he'd have the skills to bust it open I guess if you're looking for suspects. Though anypony strong enough could manage it I suppose. We've got enough on our plate as it is though, your father came in demanding we start upgrading the weaponry on every bot in the Stable you know Plaid!"

A spike of alarm flashed through Plaid Stripes at that, apparently Mr. Stripes orders to the pair was news to her. "He did?! Why? The staff is armed already, we've never needed weapons ourselves before!"

"Don't ask me, came in shouting about defending ourselves from dangerous outsiders, trying to whip up fear over the murder if you ask me. Suppose if Spoiled had a magical energy weapon module she might've not wound up with her brains on the floor. Regardless, we've got no time to waste taking her apart slow like for you detectives." Mrs. Spring crossed her forelegs over her round chest, an undercurrent of worry over Mr. Stripes orders shoved aside in her mind.

Vira glanced down to Plaid, concerned at the surprise bordering on shock at her father's actions. She tapped her metal claw at her mouth panel nervously, mentally biting her hoof and thinking furiously. "He didn't say anything about that... it's not like him... Daddy always said the robot staff were more than enough, that we didn't need to be running around packing weapons when it's just us. Why wouldn't he talk to me first?"

"Interesting... Well, you never know what an autopsy might turn up. We'd really appreciate the effort ma'am, more than once the missing piece of the puzzle came from covering all our bases. If you're stripping her down for parts anyway, you could help catch a killer." Nick donned his hat and tipped it to Mrs. Spring, putting on a charming smile with a wink of one yellow on black eye, while his thoughts focused on Plaid muttering to herself, filing away what he regarded as a clue for later.

Main Spring snorted and looked between the pleading detective and her husband behind him, giving a long suffering sigh full of that tender affection for the mechanical stallion holding his forelegs up in a begging gesture. Again Vira soaked up the deep emotion flowing between them in silent communication her psychic gifts let her see flying between them. Mrs. Spring might not particularly want to do the extra work Nick was asking for, but she knew how much the minor mission excited her husband.

Main Spring wasn't willing to do this favor for Nick, but for Professor Pickle. Vira delighted in the depths of a love that would move mountains to make her special somepony happy, poorly masked by a sigh of surrender and flaring brightly at his whoop of joy when she agreed. "Alright, alright... we'll give it a look see Detective. Go on love, let's get her on the table and get started."

Professor Pickle practically pranced to the body at her permission, floating it up in a field of lime green magic as Nick, Vira and their guide Plaid made their way out. Vira's employer thanked them again as they were already getting to work, promising to return later to see what they found.

They interviewed a couple more passing Robobrains in the halls on their way to their next destination, Nick asking pointed questions about how they filled their time last night, what they thought of the victim and of Plaid's plans to open things up that she was so against. The Stable's resident food expert Zesty Gourmand and the Trotson Redhooves ballplayer Main Spring mentioned didn't give them much to go on however, both expressing disdain for Spoiled Rich and relating her sour personality.

Nick seemed satisfied with only a few questions to the random residents they ran into on the way to this Mr. Cane Plaid was leading them to, letting Vira mentally probe them and believing her initial impressions they weren't the suspect. Even with Plaid pulling ahead to lead them down the gleaming halls now, Nick thought at Vira silently, keeping his musing over the case just between the two of them. (What do you think dollface? Get anything shady from anypony so far?)

Nick flipped through his notes Vira held for him in her telekinesis, furrowing his brow as he thought back. (I think we can probably cross them off the list of suspects too sweetheart, they have a pretty solid alibi practicing lines with a couple other residents. You had good instincts asking about Plaid's idea of opening this place up, starting to think that may be our motive somehow. There's stuff under the surface here, so we'll have to do some snooping. Professor Pickle said there's a few locked down areas of the Stable I want to slip off to. Shouldn't have a problem hacking our way in, but we'll need to sneak off on our own and ditch our friendly guide.)

Pausing to put a supportive hoof on her back, Nick nodded firmly and rolled his eyes to their guide still wheeling ahead of them. (Just a hunch doll, but Mrs. Rich wasn't killed where they found her for one. There was that paint spill, but no biomed gell from her broken brain case. That crime scene was staged, we need to find where the deed really happened and I'm betting it was somewhere out of view. Let's interview this painter pony first, then I'll find a chance to wander away.)

Vira gulped nervously as they approached a sliding steel door Plaid stopped at, reading the small brass plaque that matched the one outside the arcane scientist's room. 'Room #8 -- Bobbing Cane'. She trusted Nick's instincts, able to read his confident 'gut feeling' and share in some of its steely resolve, but she wasn't sure about sneaking around. Though the tense run of Plaid's thoughts concerning her father having weapons installed without her knowledge made her fairly certain they could get away for awhile.

Plaid rapped on the metal with her clawed limb, pressing a button on a panel beneath the plaque and speaking up loudly. "Mr. Cane!? We're coming in, the Detectives have a few questions for you. Sorry to interrupt!" She lowered the volume speaking to Nick and Vira as her claw came off the button, a giggly snicker to her voice. "You have to tell Mr. Cane you're coming in, or he won't notice a thing. He's always busy with his work, so I can't see him leaving his room long enough to murder anypony."

Vira wondered what she was preemptively apologizing for as the door slid up, trotting in behind her and freezing in dumbstruck silence when she looked around and saw. Mr. Cane's room was as big as Professor Pickle and Main Spring's, again making her wonder about the lavish accommodations for so few ponies.

Most of her attention was taken up by the decor however, where the scientist's room had been full to the brim with tools and parts, Mr. Cane's was cluttered with artwork and supplies for creating it. Everywhere Vira's green eyes wandered was decorated with some vibrant piece of art she took in with wonder, paintings, charcoal sketchings, even sculptures of various mediums that made her think of her own burgeoning interest in creating art.

These put her simple glass statuettes to shame however, a huge statue of Goddess Luna in the corner practically looked like it would come to life. The creator of all this was nearly lost in the eye catching forest of it all, a light blue, horned Robobrain in the corner stretched it's neck from behind a large canvas, blinking it's single grey eye at them curiously.

The sensation in his mind was as interesting as all his work too. When they entered she hadn't sensed a typical pony's thoughts and had been surprised when his seemed to coalesce out of the strange hum in their place. It was like he had been somewhere else entirely, his crystal encased brain producing a sensation that was almost like Unity in a way, a higher state of being that he grudgingly lost due to their interruption.

"Eh? Detectives? Oh, right... Spoiled and all. Fine, fine, let's get this over with so I can get back to work. The crime scene turned out to be an inspiration and I want to finish.... up? Oh my... Who is this enchanting mare?!" Mr. Cane set down his brush and huffed, remaining in his upright posture and wheeling his way over gruffly. His demeanor suddenly changed when he took in his visitors however, making Vira blush at his attention completely focusing on her.

"Umm... Hello Mr. Cane, I'm Vira and this is my boss Detective Nick Hearts n' Hooves, we're investigating the murder and..." Vira tried to answer and turn things over to Nick since he had addressed her, but unfortunately her speaking only increased Mr. Cane's laser like focus on her.

The odd robot stallion rolled around her in slow circles, taking in every inch of her form in a way that made her rosy blush deepen. She was used to stallions thinking certain lewd thoughts about her, had even recently begun to enjoy it and consider those kinds of things herself, with a particular alicorn stallion anyway. There was some of the typical male lust in Mr. Cane's gaze, but he drank in every curve on a deeper level, appreciating her beauty as an artist, not just a stallion.

"I have to paint you! Please my dear, it's been forever since I had a live model and you are extraordinary! I've not seen a mare so stunning since Princess Luna herself! Let's see... fresh canvas, biggest i have left.... ah a cushion, I know i have one somewhere, we'll set you up here, adjust the lighting... If you could get out of that sweater..." Mr. Cane chattered rapidly, already planning the new work he saw clearly in his mind and moving about rapidly to shove things out of the way.

The sharp image and request to strip to match the seductive pose she saw only deepened Vira's embarrassment. He saw her that way? Would make a painting of her that looked anything like that!? On the one hoof she was a little flattered, but on the other she felt a surge of shyness and hugged her warm sweater to herself tightly. She might not understand or share much in the way of normal pony propriety since she had never really considered such things, but her thinking on the subject of the buck she wanted to find and the things she wished to do with him had adjusted her feelings lately. She wanted one stallion to see her that way, the idea of anypony who happened by and saw Mr. Cane's proposed painting felt a little too much like exhibitionism...

Thankfully, Nick put himself between them protectively, interrupting the manic artist with his Trotson drawl. "Whoa there mac, you can ask the mare about being your muse later. We have a few questions first, about the murder? Looks like that inspired you already so I know you're aware of the case..."

Pointing out the large canvas Mr. Cane had already lifted from the easel and shoved aside, Nick's thoughts tingled with suspicion. It was a rather dark and morbid interpretation of Spoiled Rich's corpse, the brutal damage exaggerated and the broken body surrounded by looming shadows with menacing faces.

Plaid seemed used to dealing with the eccentric artist, speaking up to focus him as he slumped in disappointment at being denied for now. "Please Mr. Cane, they're here to help solve the case. I'm hoping they'll help convince everypony we should open the Stable up too... You'd like that, right? Vira says there are other alicorns like her out there to paint even!"

"Hmmm... others? Interesting... We heard things on the radio when it picks up that Trotson broadcast on good days, but hadn't known what to make of it. So... there really are more like you Miss Vira? Are they nearly so stunning though? The promise of other models later pales in comparison to the statuesque beauty before me..." Mr. Cane actually pouted back, scuffing the paint splattered floor with his metal foreleg and still picturing Vira in more and more alluring poses.

Rolling her eyes with a sigh, Vira spotted a familiar sea-green pegasus painting hung high on the wall. She recognized Longfellow's wife Ocean Breeze from his memories and the flashes she had gotten from Plaid and some of the other residents. The mature mare was given a more angelic pose than those Mr. Cane was thinking of for her, her eyes closed and nose pointed up to the bright beams of sunlight above, the golden glow flitering through her feathered wings and lighting her flowing pink mane up with a halo.

Still... the last visitor to this Stable had been roped into being a model, Vira supposed it was only fair to grant his request too, especially considering the almost urgent need flowing off the old robot. It was bordering on obsession, gripping his mind in the unbending desire to paint her. If it came out like Longfellow's wife, she supposed she didn't mind so much. She could already sense it was a carrot to dangle that would make him very cooperative anyway...

"A-Alright Mr. Cane... I will consider modeling for you. If you answer our questions first, a-and later... when it will not interfere with our investigation. And you must... er... I would appreciate your opinion on my own attempts at art, p-perhaps some instruction?" The promise of doing as he wished focused Mr. Cane's thoughts instantly, Vira's reticent hopes for constructive criticism of the glass sculptures she floated from her saddlebags further dampening his mania with professional curiosity as he looked them over.

"You made these dear? Well, well... interesting... Deal, go ahead detective, ask your questions. Anything to hurry your work along so your assistant can come back sooner. It will give me time to set up the scene anyway, perhaps we can convince Mrs. Polomare to provide some costumes for another piece too! I insist on the first piece being au natural, nothing between all that glorious green fur and the canvas, but another piece or two could be interesting." Some of the 'costumes' flashing through Mr. Cane's mind intrigued Vira, wearing clothes was another new experience for her and some of his ideas piqued her interest in fashion.

They were forced to follow along the artist rolling through his cluttered room and grabbing props, ducking the brushes, scraps of paper and junk he tossed in his wake. Though it gave Vira a chance to take in more of his work as she dutifully held Nick's notepad while he asked questions.

"There was red paint at the scene, looked like blood, but you folks don't exactly bleed red anymore. Plaid here tells us you're the fella to see when it comes to paint around here, was wondering if you knew how it wound up there?" Nick didn't seem bothered having to follow Mr. Cane as he dashed from one area of his large room to the other.

He spoke calmly and without accusation in his voice, but he was taking advantage of the forced tour to take in every detail, pausing at every sloppy can or jar of paint he spotted and cataloging them. While the presence of the paint at the scene Nick insisted had been staged was odd, Vira wasn't sure how important a clue it was. Most of her focus wasn't on the case anyway, still marveling at Mr. Cane's vast array of old works.

The mention of the paint broke Mr. Cane's distracted rummaging, dropping to his forelegs to trot across the room and float out an array of paint splattered cans from a metal cabinet in the corner. While it looked like chaos to Vira, Mr. Cane seemed to have some kind of organization in play that was a mystery to her, but clear to him. He paused at metal can dripping crimson paint that matched the puddle in the theatre, shaking it suspiciously before moving on to a white can and repeating the process.

Setting those two cans aside, Mr. Cane wheeled across the room to a sloppy workbench, glowering at some kind of magic powered spray gun that was apparently out of place. After moving it over an inch to where it belonged, Mr. Cane picked it up in his claws and examined it carefully, a growing sense of violation slowly overriding his previous excitement.

"Somepony's been messing with my supplies! My tools! My work!! Everypony knows not to touch my things, don't they Plaid? Haven't I made that very clear for the last 200 damn years!?" Mr. Cane fumed and took out his anger on the cringing Plaid as the nearest target with any authority here.

Coming to her defense came so naturally to her, it was a surprise to Vira when she raised her wide green wing between them, curling it around Plaid's cold metal barrel and stamping a hoof. "I understand you're upset sir, but there's no reason to take it out on Plaid. It's been a trying day for everypony here, behave yourself or I may reconsider posing for you..."

The threat cowed the agitated artist, fidgeting with the odd spray gun in his claws but keeping his anger to himself at least. Nick took advantage of the opening and hefted the red and white paint cans in his hooves appraisingly, speaking to Mr. Cane as he peered at the matching crimson and pale white. "Soooo.... I take it the paint was yours then after all? Somepony borrowed without asking huh? Just curious mac, but can you account for your whereabouts last night and today?"

"I... I've been lost to my work for quite some time... On the sets for young Plaid's play, the remaining ones are over there. I brought the first set I finished last night to the theatre and found Spoiled with the others this morning, then I returned to my studio to work on the piece you found me finishing. I... I've been alone all day, but Plaid can tell you that's not out of the ordinary." Mr. Cane seemed to grasp the implication to Nick's question, answering nervously and thinking thoughts not too far removed from the synth detective's. "I'm... not a suspect, am I Detective? I can see how this may look bad, but I assure you I had nothing to do with the crime. Somepony has stolen from me, possibly trying to set me up! We have not just a murderer but a thief on our hooves here!"

Nick raised an eyebrow at Mr. Cane's protests, a sense of respect for the artist being able to work things out for himself so quickly coming from him. He held a hoof out to examine the paint sprayer Mr. Cane willingly turned over, speaking absently as he looked over the mostly clean jars to load paint into it. "Hmmm.... doesn't look good no, but looks like whoever did it returned all your stuff and hoped you wouldn't notice. Might be a red herring or a setup like you say, but might be more. I gotta say, you sound like you're familiar with the old gumshoe line of work yourself mac."

Mr. Cane waved a foreleg to a poster in the corner nearly covered up by other works, a wry chuckle lighting up his voice box in reply. "Research, I used to write detective type stories for my comics. I may have idly considered ways to knock off Spoiled Rich, but you can bet your bits if I had, I wouldn't be so sloppy about it. I definitely wouldn't leave any evidence that pointed directly to me behind I can tell you."

There was a tinge of embarassment in his answer, his sidelong glance at his own half hidden old work and mention of working on 'comics' felt like admitting a shameful bit of his youth. The dark stallion on the poster he had pointed out had Vira's complete attention however, trotting over in excitement and floating all the clutter away to get a better look with a sense of awe.

It was Fast! The male alicorn in Trotson! No... it looked remarkably like him though. A dark stallion with a grey mane, taller and more muscular than the buck in her heart, but wearing the same strange costume. He was perched on a tall skyscraper on a cloudy night, a flash of lightning illuminating the long black trenchoat whipping in the wind, and he had the same black fedora half hiding his stern red eyes. She read the fancy font above this strange image curiously, piecing together just who Mr. Cane was in the old world.

"T-The Shrouded Stallion Returns... Comics... Y-You used to make the Shrouded Stallion comics!?" Vira goggled at the poster, biting her lip in excitement and not understanding the reluctant nod from Mr. Cane in return.

"Yes, yes... I'm Bobbing Cane, writer and artist of those silly old things. Don't tell me you're a fan Miss Vira? I didn't think anypony nowadays read them." Mr. Cane trotted over and shrugged to the faded poster, pulling out a box of the comics themselves from the corner, all preserved in yellowed plastic bags.

At his confirmation, Vira gave a giddy squeal and nodded happily, her long green and lilac streaked mane shaking around her sparkling eyes. "Oh my! This is wonderful! I've never read them myself sir, but I know somepony who is your biggest fan back in Trotson! He would be beside himself in joy to meet you! Ah! H-Here, this is him actually!"

Floating out her favorite bit of sculpture carefully, Vira whinnied with pride at the surprise and appreciation in Mr. Cane's thoughts over her work. The smoky crystal statue depicted a stallion almost identical to his creation. A little shorter and scrawnier, but she had captured the costume he wore everywhere well, the horn poking through his fedora and delicate flared wings marking him as the only male alicorn she had ever met.

Even though his pony parts were long gone, Vira could feel the sensation of Mr. Cane's mouth drying up in response to her beaming over her little statue. A shakiness came through his voice as Mr. Cane took the statue in his claws carefully, turning it to take in every detail.

She could understand his incredulity when he spoke, though wondered about the other complex emotions beneath it of concern, anxiety and confusion. "I heard the radio talking about somepony out there dressing up as the Shrouded Stallion... but he's real? An alicorn like you? H-He's not the really real one... is he Miss?"

The image that flashed through the old artist's mind was perplexing to Vira, not of his comic character or the pre-war buck he had inspired in Trotson, but something else... Something ancient and somewhat frightening actually, a snippet of memory showing a block of dark crystal in the rough shape of a rearing alicorn stallion frozen in place. The strange crystal statue was wrapped in heavy iron chains and exuded a menacing aura that made Vira shiver just feeling it through Mr. Cane's memory. Explaining why it was kept in some deep, dark place the old buck had once explored, a dungeon of rough stone, a prison...

"Real one? I don't know what you mean sir. He's a great fan of your work, you inspired him. The values your comics taught him as a foal in the old world, led to him becoming a real life hero in the Commonwealth. He's helped many ponies there, i-including myself... You should be proud, I... I can show you if you like..."

Vira was a little reticent displaying her abilities to what could still be a suspect in their current case, but she didn't like that feeling of worry concerning who she viewed as her special somepony coming from Mr. Cane. She felt defensive and protective of him, not wanting somepony she knew he held in such high regard to think ill of him and his actions. At Mr. Cane's curious nod, her horn glowed brightly as she focused on sharing the memories she had of the buck currently running around the Commonwealth in the Shrouded Stallion's garb,

She was glad to feel a little relief and wonder coming from Mr. Cane as he saw the images in her mind, the robot giving a soft sigh and cheering up as he spoke."Well... I'll be. Had me worried for a minute the real one got out somehow, but that's really just a wasteland cosplayer, isn't it. Phew! So... Those old comics did some good after all, I actually got through to a reader, helped make a difference... That's wonderful Miss Vira, thank you! You simply have to tell me more, you can fill me in while you pose for me!"

Seeming convinced Mr. Cane was an unlikely suspect and he had all he needed for now, Nick chuckled and pulled her foreleg free from the clawed grip trying to drag her towards his waiting easel. "Later buddy, I still need my assistant for a bit, case to solve and all. I'll let you borrow her when we get to the bottom of things. Anything else you can tell us to hurry that along?"

Mr. Cane sulked impatiently, giving a groan and thinking quickly of any way to get his prize model back sooner. "Bah! Fine, fine... we'll continue our conversation then. As for your case Detective, hmm.... I hide away in my studio too much to be of much use as a good source, you want a busybody with all the dirt. I suggest talking to Suri and Raspberry, those two know all the gossip in the Stable worth knowing."

Plaid Stripes nodded eagerly at the suggestion, trotting her way back to the door out in a rush. "Oh! Yeah, that's a good idea Mr. Cane! I think they should be practicing lines and working on costumes in Ms. Polomare's room, it's just down the hall detectives!"

Making their manners to the artist already returning to dragging a large red velvet cushion out and adjusting the numerous spotlights on swing arms nearby to shine on it, Vira waved a wing and smiled as they left Mr. Cane. She might not be a fan of the famous old world creator, but wanted to share in the things the buck she cared about loved and looked forward to returning to pose and talk with Mr. Cane.

Nearly as much as being able to tell the current Shrouded Stallion back in Trotson that she had met the pony who made his beloved comics. When she found Fast, she'd have something to share with him that was sure to make him happy, a thought that made her heart give that delightful flutter in anticipation.

The room labeled 'Room #7 -- Suri Polomare' was as large as the others they had seen so far, again making Vira think of the ponies back in Fog Harbor crowded together as refugees on the docks. If they could solve this case and encourage the residents to give Plaid's ideas a chance, she was hoping to convince them to do a little more than letting them come in to see a play...

Caring about the fate of normal ponies and getting involved was still new ground for Vira, but she knew good ponies tried to help others. Ideas on how to do so were starting to form in her mind, hoping to help both the miserable living ponies on the docks and the lonely and detached robotic residents here.

The racks upon racks of musty clothing filling Suri's room certainly looked better than the rags she saw many of the Fog Harbor ponies wearing for one thing. She nosed at a few interesting outfits with a disappointed sigh, one of the reasons she had never concerned herself with fashion even after her mother and her restrictions against wearing clothing were gone, was nothing sized for normal ponies fit... The attractive outfits here were no different, cute clothes she actually wouldn't mind trying, but all far too small.

The pair of pink robobrains ahead drew her attention to the present when they approached, looking between the one with the slightly darker pink body wearing a brown hood over a rich purple beret, reciting lines in a projecting voice, and the lighter pink one answering in a bored, distracted tone as she worked at a humming sewing machine surrounded in the glow of magic from her horn.

"Oh, I never imagined finding a new land would be so hard. But it'll all be worth it, don't you agree Clover the Clever?" The sewing robobrain glanced at a few pages of script held open by bobbins matching the cutie mark on her treads, speaking her lines in a monotone as she kept working.

The second mare was putting a lot more effort into her reading, putting a flourish to her words in response. "I actually think that the three tribes could've tried harder Princess Platinum." Falling out character, the beret wearing robot nudged her companion from her work with a frustrated snort. "You could be trying harder too Suri. You're Princess Platinum now, so really commit to the role!"

"I'm committed to finishing up these costumes. Not sure why, you heard Mr. Stripes, I doubt we'll even put on this silly play now. It's as close as I'll get to designing new fashion that will actually be worn by anypony though, so... Oh, hello Plaid, who are our guests?" The lighter pink robot noticed the three of them as she answered, turning and adjusting her pale blue nerckerchief in a preening gesture.

"These are the detectives working on Mrs. Rich's murder case. Nick Hearts n' Hooves and Vira, this is Suri Polomare and Raspberry Beret. Raspberry was playing Clover the Clever, so she worked with Spoiled pretty closely. Ms. Polomare has been doing all the costumes, so she talks to everypony." Plaid introduced everyone happily, dropping to a whisper to address the two detectives before Suri and Raspberry wheeled their way over. "Mr. Cane was right too, Suri is kind of a gossip, so she'll know all kinds of things..."

Detectives! How interesting! Oh my, this fine looking robotic stallion here is wearing the proper costume and everything, isn't he? You're practically a character out of a Shadow Spade book aren't you! Your companion is stunning as well, but not dressing the part like you. Oh! I bet I have just the thing though, from my Mystique Fantastique line!" Suri poked and prodded at Nick's rumpled trenchcoat with interest, wheeling around a surprised Vira when she was done and chattering rapidly as she dashed off to the racks of clothing in the room.

"Don't you mean your Femme Mystique Chic knockoff line Suri? 200 years and you're still trying to beat that Ministry Mare..." Raspberry rolled up beside Plaid, a smirk in her synthesized voice calling to her friend.

Vira could sense the long fellowship the three robotic mares shared in the teasing. They had only had each other for a long time, forming a bond similar the Unity of Vira's sisters she missed. These three had built it over time rather than through a psychic hivemind, but they knew each other as well as Vira did her sisters.

The indignant response Ms. Polomare answered with as she came rolling back with garments in her claws was well worn and practiced, already in the minds of Plaid and Raspberry word for word before she squawked it. "It's not a knock off! It's affordable alternatives for the common pony!"

Vira smiled at their chuckling, opening her mouth to try to return to the case, only to be shut up by Suri's long foreleg stretching up and clapping a wide brimmed, dark violet hat to her head. The light pink robot ignored her shaking the roughly applied hat from her eyes, moving on to her side and holding a long maroon garment against her body with an appraising whistle and victorious retort to her still snickering friends.

"Rarity neglected big and tall customers left and right you know, somepony had to fill the void! Though you're a tad larger than even my old customers dear... they do grow them big outside nowadays, don't they? Hmm... that means there's probably lots of demand for my wares! It'll take some adjustments, but having a Princess wearing my fashion will be great advertising. I'll give it to you at a discount even." Suri burbled excitedly, shoving even the heavy alicorn across the floor towards a full length mirror on the wall nearby.

Somewhat surprised the treaded robot mare could push her bulk around with her hooves squeaking on the ground in protest, Vira flinched seeing her reflection approaching. She still had conflicted feelings looking at herself, her old belief in the mother's perfect form and her overbearing pride, warring with the small voice of shame not wanting to see all the ways she was different from normal ponies that she had always shoved down and buried.

The wide brimmed hat did give her something to hide under at least, clenching her eyes shut when they came to a stop and she felt Suri pressing the clothing against her appraisingly. It was Nick's long double whistle that got her to peek, feeling his genuine appreciation for how she looked. "I'll be dollface, found you a uniform after all. One that looks a lot better on you than me."

Opening her eyes, Vira blinked curiously at the mare looking back from the mirror. That was her? She looked... different... pretty even. Not the haughty and cold beauty she had cultivated while working as a priestess for the Church of Balefire, awing sickly cult members with her Goddess granted perfection, but something softer and warmer... kinder...

Her coat had lightened a shade for one... Nowhere near the dark green bordering on black as when she was fully a part of Unity and an extension of her mother the Goddess. Some of her sisters held to the theory that the more they grew as individuals since the Lightbringer destroyed the Goddess, the more distinctive and unique their forms became to reflect that. Now she had to admit they may have a point... Her fur was a rich, vibrant green now, just a little darker than her wide emerald eyes.

Not only that, the new streak of lilac in her flowing mane and tail had gotten a bit wider, breaking up her dark green tresses with a ribbon of color cascading down the silken river. Staring at herself in wonder, she even had to admit it complimented the strange outfit Suri was holding up against her, already busily marking it with chalk for adjustments.

It was a rich maroon trenchcoat like Nick's, though with a higher, crisp collar instead of his wrinkled and worn tan garment. It seemed to come with a light pink scarf that matched the bow tied hatband on the wide violet hat still cocked precariously on her head. Her long horn shoving the brim up would need the hole Suri had already marked to wear the chapeau properly, and the admittedly oversized coat would still need to be let out and have the chalk marked wing holes added to fit her large frame, but Suri's pressing and posing her had the desired effect. Vira could picture enough to be interested...

Plaid broke her stunned silence with cheery encouragment, joining Suri along with Raspberry Beret in crowding around the tall alicorn and clucking happily, the three mares enjoying the opportunity to play dress up with a flesh and blood filly. "That looks great Vira, you should totally get it! You'll match your boss and look like a real detective!"

"Oh yes, very fetching Miss. Perfect to play the part! Take it from me, I once played Shadow Spade herself in a limited revue on Bridleway. Perhaps an elegant cigarette holder as an accessory to emote with, really bring it all together. And a pearl handled pistol! Oh! and stockings! You simply must wear stockings, I think I have a pair stretchy enough still!" Ms. Beret brushed at Vira's mane and beamed, thinking of the variety of props still packed away in her own room giddily to add to the costume.

All the attention was new to Vira and she was still trying to absorb how she looked, how she liked the outfit and how it changed her image... The robotic mares crowding her and adding ideas made her nervously pull away, hanging on what Ms. Polomare had said about a discount and realizing she'd never really bought things before. She had hoped to be gifted by generosity as Longfellow had when he gave her the comfy sweater and cracked leather saddlebags she currently wore, but Suri seemed a good deal more capitalistic than he had been.

She was acting as an accomplished salespony out for her own bottom line, tempting her with the outfit and playing it up so she'd have to have it. Vira had to admit she was good at her job too... she did want it, wanted it for herself, no matter the cost. Desire was no replacement for caps however...

"I-It is lovely, though I need no cigarette holder as I don't smoke like Nick, n-nor do I carry any kind of gun... o-or have any money to speak of unfortunately. Perhaps you could make the alterations and I could return for it someday? For now we really should return to our case, whether I wear the uniform or not, we are detectives and..."

Wearing a wide smile, Nick trotted forward into the gaggle of mares and held a hoof up, shaking his head and reaching into his trenchcoat with a strange emotion in his mind. The generosity lacking in Suri and a warm sensation of sharing it, of giving a gift and enjoying the act of doing so and how it made another pony feel... not something Vira had experienced much.

"Hold on there sweetheart, it's already night anyway, so that makes your first day on the job, even if we're on overtime down here. 50 caps a day right? Plus I think you're due a signing bonus with how well you've been working out, and employers are supposed to chip in for uniform expenses, right?" Nick rooted around his pockets with a musical jingle, hoofing out a small bundle of caps that represented the first paycheck from a real job Vira had ever earned.

Sniffling with tears standing in her sparkling eyes, Vira lunged out from the crowd of robobrain mares and crushed the poor synth in a giddy hug, nuzzling cheek to cheek with the sputtering detective and babbling happily. "Really? Thank you Nick! I can buy something I want! With my own caps! That I earned myself! Thankyouthankyouthankyou!"

Nick wheezed where she dumped him unceremoniously on his rump, looking up to her floating the entire bundle of caps over to Ms. Polomare and prancing giddily in place. He chuckled as he got to his hooves and righted his fedora, reaching up to push her paycheck back down before Suri snatched the full sum from her bright green magic. "No problem doll, you earned it. May wanna learn to haggle a bit though... 50 caps sounds a little high when you're not exactly drowning in customers down here Ms. Polomare, what about that discount?"

Vira cocked her head at the frustrated greed baking off Suri pulling her claw back in disappointment, realizing Nick was right and she'd have to learn to barter a little better. The robotic seamstress recovered quickly though, folding the garment up and reaching up for the hat still atop the tall mare's head. "Well there's all the alteration fees to add in Detective... Plus premium armoring spells I'm sure a mare of mystery and adventure will want. Even better than the Ministry of Image's secret process used in Shadowbolt armor! Polomare Protection spells are worth their weight in gold!"

Raspberry Beret undermined her friend again with a roll of her single violet eye, groaning playfully and patting Vira's hoof. "You mean the Ministry of Image's own secret process you stole in a little corporate espionage Suri. Still amazed you didn't wind up in jail for that, if the bombs hadn't fell before your trial, hiding out here at the resort wouldn't have been enough to save you from war profiteering charges. Give the detective filly a break, when's the last time somepony really wanted one of your pieces molding away down here?"

Taking her other foreleg in her claws, Plaid nodded sternly and took up her defense as well. "Yeah, c'mon Suri! Don't be so out for yourself all the time, Vira's helping us out here. If they solve the case and we open the Stable up like I planned, you'll have more customers to swindle later. Plus it's good advertising having a Princess wearing your stuff, right?"

Before Vira could interrupt and point out again she wasn't a Princess, Suri plucked her hat away in her telekinesis and stamped her metal forehooves in a pout, taking the bundle of clothing to her magical sewing machine and sighing. "Fine, fine... 40 caps is a steal for all the value you're getting though! And only IF you solve the case like Plaid says. I'll just hold onto it and start on the fixes, though you can hang onto the hat if you provide a downpayment."

Hoofing over 10 caps was more than worth Suri making a quick snip and stitch to the wide purple hat, guiding her graceful horn through the new hole along with the others for her perked up ears, setting it atop her mane more carefully this time, adjusting the brim to a rakish angle and primping the bow as Vira squeed to herself happily. With it properly perched on her head, Vira gave a broad smile to the mirror and the stylish hat atop her head, feeling a sense of pride in herself that was different than the blind belief in her own perfection before. She liked how she looked, she got this hat herself with her own caps, she earned a little something for herself and liked the feeling.

Nick took advantage of the upbeat mood her purchase had inspired among the robotic mares, dusting himself off and interrupting their happy chatter. "Well, that's one more reason to make sure we solve the case then. Speaking of, where were you two lovely mares last night and today? See anything suspicious? Know the victim very well?"

Suri shoved a pile of costumes aside to put Vira's purchase at the head of her stack of work, drawing Vira's attention to the bundle of armored Stable security barding shoved under all the rest as she snorted an answer. "I've been working and Raspberry has been in and out pestering me to read lines with her. She convinced me to take a walk this morning and we saw all the hubbub around the body then. Personally not sad to see Spoiled knocked off, but I didn't have anything to do with it. Been busy enough working on Plaid's costumes, not to mention the load of work your father dumped on me when we got back Plaid! You'll both just have to wait now that I have a paying customer though."

Plaid Stripes looked down to the security barding Suri waved to dismissively, a wave of confusion coming from her that added to Vira's suspicions. "What? What did Daddy want? What are all of these doing here, I thought all the security stuff was stored away in the unfinished section."

"I don't know where he dug them up, but he came in here demanding I alter them all to fit our robotic bodies, for free even! Said we need protection, as if having a metal hide isn't good enough? Working with that kevlar stuff is a pain in the rump too. As far as I'm concerned, my customer comes first, then your costumes to make sure they're done in time for the show, then your father's silly orders come last. He might be in charge here, but he doesn't have to be obnoxious about it like that. He should go back to building his doll furniture and letting you run things Plaid. This murder has him all worked up, so I hope you detectives put it to rest soon."

Feeling Plaid mentally bite her lip with a surge of anxiety, Vira didn't miss the way Nick cataloged that as another clue in his mind, jotting a note before continuing his questions to Raspberry. "What about you beautiful? You were playing Princess Platinum's mare friday, notice anything strange about the victim lately?"

"Well... for insisting on being one of the stars, Mrs. Rich was totally against the play, completely missing the moral of the piece. I think she just liked having her fellow actors calling her 'Princess'. Spoiled Rich could have easily been one of those ancient rulers only looking out for her own tribe, the way she bitched at Mr. Stripes over allowing it and for considering Plaid's ideas about the outside." Raspberry Beret tapped her glowing mouth piece in thought, the actress focusing on the play and her interactions through the work she held in highest regard.

"Uh-huh.... so the victim was firmly in the isolationist camp around here. She have a lot of ponies on her side? Most of you we've interviewed so far have seemed open to giving Plaid a shot, anypony we should talk to on the con side?" Nick looked between all of them curiously, not that surprised by their unsure murmur between each other.

Suri paused in her rapid sewing to answer with a snort, patting Plaid's slumping shoulders in support. "That old bitch was against any good idea that wasn't hers, so basically all of them. She riled a lot more guests to her side all those years ago when that pegasus mare kept coming to trade. That wastelander won them all over before she stopped coming though, must have gotten busy with the baby, but we all missed her visits, even Spoiled's holdouts. Everypony's a lot more interested in having a link like that again, even if it means seeking it out ourselves. It's a good idea Plaid honey, don't let Spoiled get her way with your dad by dying when she couldn't by whining."

Vira could feel the web of support woven between the three robotic mares and again thought of her sisters, marveling at the magic of friendship that could be as powerful as the Unity she had always believed in. Suri and Raspberry encouraged their friend Plaid and her ideas, giving her confidence to nod back to them with renewed resolve. "R-Right, I won't girls. I think I need to go talk to daddy just as soon as I'm done with the detectives here. T-The show must go on, right Raspberry?"

Nick flipped his notebook closed with a snap at that, putting on a wide grin and trotting towards the door, leaving Vira to canter after him. "Well don't let us keep you doll, I'm sure Vira and I can find our way from here, kick over a few rocks and see what comes crawling out. We'll make due without our lovely guide for a little while I'm sure, right Vira?"

"O-Oh yes! Umm.. we shall be fine Plaid, no need to foalsit us so closely. I'll be back for my lovely clothes later Ms. Polomare!" Vira yelped as Nick practically dragged her after him, stretching her neck back to the door before it slid shut to call after her first purchase eagerly.

She didn't want to be rude, but could feel the numerous 'gut feelings' Nick had hardening towards certainty. The leads he wanted to follow up on at this point in the case were better investigated on their own for whatever reason, as a good assistant she had to trust his instincts and hope they could get to the bottom of things quickly. Not just for her own selfish reasons, but because she wanted to help the anxious Plaid they left behind.

Friendship truly was powerful magic, already she had been drawn in to caring about the strange robot like the two old friends they left her with. All of them wanted to support Plaid, if Nick believed the best way to do that was without her underhoof, she trusted the synth detective was right. Though the way he unobtrusively slipped the notice of any pony or robot servant watching before sneaking away down darker hallways made her nervous, slinking after him down the lesser maintained passages with signs reading 'Maintenance Level / Lower Class Rooms'.

After spending time in the luxurious Stable above, coming down to the unfinished lower floors was jarring and a little creepy. Unlike the polished wood paneled walls and gleaming tiled floors upstairs, even the finished maintenance areas they entered in were dark and spooky, looking much more like other Stables Vira had seen memories of.

A lower class of robot servant worked down here, rusty Ponitrons and a few spidery Mr. Handys that were dedicated solely to keeping the clanking, dripping machinery running, completely ignoring the two of them wandering their way around in their domain to Vira's relief. The electronic lock hadn't posed any problem for Nick to bypass and break in, but Vira still worried about getting caught being bad when she was trying so hard to be good.

Beyond the metal walls and floors winding their way towards the reactor of the Stable, a few turns brought them to the rough stone walls of caverns whose excavation had seemingly been abruptly abandoned. Large, rusting magical earthmoving equipment sat dead and dark under flickering work lights, surrounded by huge metal crates marked with Stable-Tec's gear shaped logo.

Vira briefly wondered what was guiding Nick's exploration, having the question answered before she could ask when she noticed the tread marks in the dust he paused at here and there. Pointing at a clear example of these rolling through a brackish puddle, her employer nodded to the scrapes she could make out coming out of the mud and towards the way they came, asking for her input with interest.

"What'dya think dollface? Tell me if I'm crazy, but that looks like somepony was dragging something through here, huh?" Nick smirked at his suspicions leading this far, honestly asking Vira's opinion and hoping her sharp senses may tell them more.

Peering closely at the tracks, Vira sniffed delicately and followed the trail to the next such marks further down the passage. Her heightened sense of smell wasn't able to pick up as much as it would if it was living ponies leaving this trail, but it gave her enough to work with. Two faint scents had come this way, towards the modular trailer on stilts at the back of the cavern.

Reaching the odd trailer rusting away down here, Nick trotted up the ramp to the door and tapped a faded sign beside it, answering the perplexed look Vira could feel on her face. "Supervisor Hard Hat... Looks like the head of the construction crew's office down here, seems like a pretty good hideout eh dollface? Let's take a little peek..."

The dinky lock on the thin trailer door posed no more problem than the secure electronic one upstairs for Nick, the barrier falling before his lockpicks and creaking open to a dim, cramped space within. Tiny trailers like this always seemed like they'd be tight enough for normal ponies to Vira, squeezing her own (not fat!) rump in made her feel clumsy carefully trying to not knock things around or scrape the ceiling with her horn.

The glow from Nick's pip-buck light let him find the lightswitch soon enough at least, illuminating a simple office that did indeed look like it had more recent occupants. A battered office desk in the corner held a flickering terminal and stacks of paperwork Nick gravitated towards, while a larger fold out table in the center of the room held a number of curiosities Vira looked over.

Brittle blueprints were unrolled across the surface, plans for Stable 118 as it was intended that she flipped through rapidly. Puzzling them out, she saw just how much more was meant to be excavated and built down here, space and materials enough for hundreds of lower class residents, most crossed out in angry red marker citing 'Budget Cuts!' as they only notation.

Atop these ancient papers were more recent additions, some scrawled on the backs of other unfurled blueprints. A large map of the island of Fog Harbor rested on top of the stack, the pre-war image sporting rough notations concerning not only the three major factions currently vying for control of the island, but numerous stores and factories labeled for apparent salvage hopes. While places like the local Robronco outlet and technical ruins were prominent, there were others for less useful things like jewelry stores and other luxuries. Just going over what was here and the cruel hoof behind all the short notes, it had the look of battle plans... Like this hideout was some kind of ...war-room.

A gruff, crackling stallion's voice issuing from the terminal Nick tapped away at made Vira jump in fright, surprised to hear a ghost from the past raging as the synth detective hopped up and looked around the trailer as the old audio file played. "That's it Mr. Stripes, these conflicting messages are putting us too far behind schedule and we've got plenty of other work to do while you and that crab Mrs. Rich sort it out. Your daughter says build the whole thing on the one hoof, while that old bitch keeps coming down here and shooing us off on the other. She's saying she's not paying for any more construction unless it's even more improvements to the first class area, and by our bounced checks she means it. You need to get things straight with your biggest investor and get my crew paid, or she gets her way and this Stable's done as it is. I can leave the equipment for now hoping you get it worked out, but me and my boys have plenty on our plates at other Stables, so we're joining the crews working in the Everfree until you do."

"Spoiled Rich prevented the construction of the lower class portion of the Stable? She was responsible for not saving more ponies? I can't say I feel much sympathy for the murder victim in that case Nick..." Vira huffed at the recording as it clicked to a halt, nearly knocking the cluttered table aside as she knelt down to join her employer rooting around on the floor.

She stuck her tongue out at Nick actually licking slightly greenish fluid in a puddle on the floor from his hoof, trusting his grunt of "Biomed gel..." without experiencing the flavor herself. He followed a trail of broken crystal bits grinding underhoof to a few loose screws, bolts and flecks of white metal, grimacing despite the proclamation that should be a positive in the case. "Looks like we found our real crime scene Vira... All the way down here, the perp had time to set up that fake upstairs with no prying eyes too."

"That's a good thing, isn't it Nick? Are there any clues to who the perpetrator might be?"

Vira tilted her head curiously at the grim thoughts occupying the detective's mind, watching as he brought a dusty old magnifying glass that matched the cutie mark emblazoned on his packs out, examining everything closely. A few dried fans of pink and white flaking off the wall in the corner had his interest now.

He had a theory... Vira could tell that much, an icy chill in his gut that was rather unpleasant. Whoever he suspected was mixed up with thoughts of the victim though, a steady refrain in his mind he eventually gave voice to. "Maybe... don't like it though. Tell me Vira, whose secret lair do you think this is, based on all the evidence?"

Realizing she was being tested again, Virescent gave the question heavy consideration, hiding her eyes under the shady brim of her new hat and tapping her chin. Most of the residents they had met were old friends, maybe playfully grouchy and teasing with each other, but they had been together a long time and seemed to appreciate each other's company. The only one she had heard about that would really hide away down by herself and not be missed was Spoiled Rich herself, a mare nopony in the Stable seemed to like and apparently felt the same about everypony else.

Looking over the angrily scrawled map of the island again and the rather aggressive attitude towards the outside that also wasn't shared by many in the Stable, Vira felt more certain of the answer to Nick's question, if not hers. A polished photo frame by the terminal was the final clue, a picture Vira floated over to inspect carefully. Three pre-war ponies were pictured, an older brown stallion beside a haughty looking pink mare with Spoiled Rich's diamond ring cutie mark. In front of and between the two older ponies was a third, a younger light pink mare with a pale lilac and white mane, a family photo hidden away down here...

"It appears to be a place Spoiled Rich came, to escape the others and plot her own ideas for how they should deal with the outside. Thankfully not ideas that held any sway with the others..."

"Some of those other text entries in the terminal say you're right Vira, good sleuthing Junior Detective. It does look like the mare let the role get to her head doesn't it sweetheart? A regular Princess Platinum planning to make her own Unicornia up on the surface. From what I read there, looks like your buddy Longfellow's sweetheart caused a real fuss when she was still coming around. Finding out there were still ponies up top and hearing about the outside world got them all in a tizzy before she disappeared suddenly. Sounds like your pal Plaid was winning them over, but this crazy dame wouldn't be swayed. Wanted to go out in force and take the things they need or she wanted." Nick muttered as he made his way back to the glowing terminal, swiveling the screen so Vira could see the wall of text he had quickly scanned.

With her emerald eyes flicking over the obvious rantings of a madpony, Vira shuddered at the thought of this Spoiled Rich getting her way. Her hopes to get the pampered residents of Stable 118 to help the harbor ponies would be impossible if more of them thought like her.

"W-Well... it is a good thing Spoiled Rich is not in charge. Perhaps even a good thing she's dead..."

Nick latched onto her words with a feverish intensity that made her flinch, the sensation of being 'on the hunt' conflicting with the sour taste in his mouth from where his suspicions were leading him that she couldn't quite see. "Is it though? If the attack happened down here, then she brought somepony else here Vira. Somepony she wanted to convince maybe? There were two of them down here, then the fight happened for whatever reason and one of them was dead. The perp then had time to set up the scene upstairs, dragging the body off to be discovered."

"Who's been saying things that sound an awful lot like the crazy ideas down in this villain's lair dollface? Looking into giving the residents armor and weapons upgrades? Stoking fears about the outside and 'defending themselves' from it? Who was Spoiled likely to bring down here and sway to her side?"

Vira gasped at the realization he was leading her towards, still not grasping all the complicated thoughts running through his mind, but seeing enough to feel a spike of fear as she smashed the flimsy door aside in her haste to get back out. "Mr. Stripes! But Plaid was just going to see him! If her father is the murderer she may be in danger! We have to..."

INTRUDER! PLEASE STAND BY TO BE VAPORIZED, THANK YOU FOR YOUR COOPERATION!

The loud squawk of a clanking Ponitron clomping in from the more finished area of the Stable gave Vira a bare instant to raise her glowing green shield. Staving off a barrage of magical energy beams from the domed heads of it and the trio of its fellows behind it. The rudimentary service robots had let them pass without incident, why were they attacking now?!

Nick didn't seemed nearly as surprised as Vira was about the development either, drawing his gleaming revolver in his mouth and mumbling around it sternly. "She would have told him about the case too dollface, some of the ponies we talked to and the question we asked probably got ...them... nervous. I think you're right, your new little gal pal might be in trouble. Take out anything in the way down here, but leave the ones upstairs to me assistant."

Given permission by Nick leaning around her flickering shield to blow the glass heads off the nearest Ponitrons advancing on them, Vira warped the round disc into a stronger bubble around herself when Nick took cover, taking advantage of the tall cavern to launch herself up and come barreling down into the thick of the mechanical pests. Smashing two of them against the steel walls of the maintenance areas they came from effectively put them out of the fight, while Nick hammered away at the remaining robot before it could batter down her protection.

Another pair were stomping down the hall towards them, trying to cut off the turn they needed to take to get back upstairs. Riding the shaky adrenaline the fear for Plaid brought out to her surprise, Vira grabbed the crumpled remains of the two robots she had just crushed, flinging them at the two new threats just as Nick joined her at a gallop.

She could sense enough from his hard and fast thoughts born from a lifetime of combat to know just how to assist her synth employer. Nick wanted to get upstairs quickly the same as she did, putting the slow robot sentries behind them and escaping with the pink beams they shot chasing their hooves, rather than slowing down to fight them one by one.

They barreled through the winding passageways, the flash of Vira's horn or the crash of Nick's revolver hastily firing off at any of the robot workers that tried to bar their path. Vira hissed in pain at the blazing beams scorching her fur and burning her flesh in the frantic retreat, taking fire from directions her floating disc of a shield couldn't cover as they pushed on.

As they approached the stairs back up, Vira worriedly cast her psychic senses out as she took the stairs three at a time on her long legs, lurching up in short hops of flight the low ceilings wouldn't give her room for. The first thing she felt was something going on up there, some collective cloud of thought from the gathered residents, worry, anger, fear.. all swirling around a cluster of minds in one place and being driven by one furious presence.

It made for a bothersome distraction in seeking out the single mind she wanted to find, finally singling out the sad, frightened brain of Plaid stripes as she nearly bowled the weeping robot over, charging out of the sliding door and back up to the clean halls of the Stable.

"Plaid!! There you are! A-Are you alright? I was worried for you and... what has happened..." Vira skidded to a halt looming over the cringing orange robobrain just outside the door.

On taking in the way she slumped and sobbed over what appeared to be a pile of matchsticks in her helplessly held up claws, Vira reached a tentative wing out to comfort the obviously miserable mare, feeling a strange flicker of anger at whatever had caused the pain she could feel in Plaid's heart.

Plaid sniffled and held the splinters of wood up higher in answer, stammering a weepy reply Vira had to listen to more from her thoughts than her thick words. "Daddy... Daddy always says the only thing he loves more than these is me... b-but he was so angry... S-Said you were snooping... t-that it was your fault... h-he broke all his lovely dollhouse furniture...ordered the robots to... t-to... I-I'm so glad you two are alright, but you need to get out of here, q-quick! H-He's called a meeting in the theatre and is screaming about you guys b-being the ones that killed Spoiled, scaring everypony... I can help you escape while he's busy but..."

"Easy sweetheart... figured that might be the problem, but we're not going anywhere until we solve the case. Definitely not leaving you in the lurch either, though if I'm right you may not like seeing this mystery solved. Is uh... the lovely Pearl here going to be a problem?" Nick joined Vira in patting the frightened robot's domed head, nodding up to the gleaming white Ms. Handy Pearl that Vira had overlooked bobbing in the air a few feet away.

The spiderlike robot had a crackling plasma blaster in addition to the magically powered sawblade at the end of its limbs, pointing both their way but thankfully not as aggressive as the simpler Ponitrons downstairs. At Plaid's digitized honk of a nose she didn't possess and shake of her head, the round robot was waved off from being quite so lethal too. "N-No, Daddy and I have equal access. Only his terminal can give orders to all of them at once, but if I say not to hurt you they can't. Y-You really have to leave though! I've never seen him like this, if he catches us..."

"Never huh? That tears it. Are all the others at this Caesar youth rally he called kiddo? The Professor and his wife?" Nick's sudden resolve was tempered with a strange sadness he felt patting Plaid's claw.

He was angry himself, making Vira feel better about her own reaction, though curious where his was coming from beyond seeing Plaid so sad and hurt. Nick was determined to see this case through and solve it, but his certainty about the culprit and confidence he could end this didn't seem to make him happy. There was no way this would have a happy ending... that was the main thought Vira kept hearing repeat in Nick's mind.

"Y-Yes... they're all there, he forced everypony to come, said it was about the murder and the future of the Stable. But..." Plaid answered in a confused tone, cut off from voicing her questions by Nick helping her up with a tip of his hat.

"Then let's go solve the case sweetheart. I hope they had enough time to do that little autopsy I asked for, but I think we've got enough hard evidence... Plus we got a mindreading mare who's on your side, came charging up here to save you even, so buck up. This won't be fun, but no matter what happens, remember that. You've got friends Plaid." Nick pressed Plaid's claw to Vira's hoof, giving a firm nod up to the big green filly blushing in embarrassment having her worry for a friend pointed out.

She had some idea why Nick put her on the spot like that, he was preemptively trying to steel Plaid for the further pain of accusing her father of the murder. Vira sighed and gave a shaky smile to the robotic mare looking at her curiously. It was true, she had been worried for Plaid, felt relief she was ok and was still angry with her father. More than willing to defend her new friend, no matter what came of it, even if Plaid hated her for it later...

"H-He's right. Let's go catch a murderer Ms. Stripes..."

"A little convenient two outsiders come to solve the case just at the right time isn't it? Unless it's a murder they're responsible for! It's a scam, you heard that pegasus mare, there aren't any police ponies out there anymore! Those two 'detectives' are the real killers and I've ordered their execution, so we're safe for now citizens of 118! But I've come to realize poor, misunderstood, brilliant Ms. Rich was right, we'll never be truly safe with those savages out there! Oh what a fool I was to ever doubt her, what fools we all were!" The pale robobrain Mr. Stripes had taken center stage in the theatre, rolling back and forth over the chalk outline marking where the body of Spoiled Rich had been discovered in front of a crowd of residents milling about the large room.

Nick and Vira listened in from just outside the doors, grateful to have Plaid waving off every fully robotic servant that came tromping over on spotting them. Pearl took over for her when Plaid trotted into the crowd, gathering some of the ponies they had interviewed to answer Nick's final whispered questions.

Watching the raging robobrain up on stage now lying and putting the crime at their hooves, Vira felt that anger in her growing with each fresh pang of sadness her father's furious words brought out in Plaid Stripes. He was deliberately trying to frighten and work up a mob... Mr. Stripes knew just what he was doing, a cold, cruel calculation from his icy thoughts as he continued in a frenzy.

"We should let this mare among mares serve as an example to all of us, to celebrate Spoiled for the forward thinking pony she was. Let her be a martyr as we embark on a new path to the future she was denied by these vile outsiders! We've always been the upper crust of Equestrian society, and the savage descendants of the common ponies here obviously need a firm hoof to guide them. No more will we hide away down here, worrying about a lack of resources, putting on silly plays and trying to be friends with our lessers! From now on, Stable 118 will assume our rightful place and take control of things outside!"

"Yeeeeah, just one thing before you go and conquer the wasteland there Princess Platinum... I thought everypony might be interested in just who the real killer is." Having gotten whatever evidence he needed, Nick trotted boldly out to the crowd, drawling in a clear voice as he lit a cigarette during the gasps of surprise from the crowd.

"T-There he is! That's the murderer everypony! Don't listen to his excuses! Robots! Destroy that detective!" Mr. Stripes howled and flailed his flexible forelegs from the stage in a rage at the spotlight swinging sharply from him to Nick blowing lazy smoke rings in the shaft of light.

The hum of a lot of magical energy weapons powering up from shiny and bow tie wearing Ponitron servants was abruptly cut off, prevented from following the order and turning the synth detective to sparkly ash by Plaid countermanding it. "Belay that! Stand down robots, I want to hear him out! Daddy, I... I think you're wrong, a-and you were wrong to sic the robots on them without at least talking first. I want to hear what they have to say, t-they're my friends."

"FRIENDS!?! They're outsiders! A fancier robot and a big blank flank freak! Just shush up Dia... Plaid... and do as you're told! Listen to your m-father!" Mr. Stripes screamed back, a red rage threatening to blow a gasket in the ancient robobrain.

Plaid cringed from the fury baking off the pale robot, prompting Vira to stand straighter in her defense, stamping a hoof and booming out in her best regal goddess voice, amplified by the real anger and shock she felt. "SHUT UP! You are not... not her parent at all, she is not ...Diamond Tiara? That is who you are thinking of, not Plaid! You... you are no Mr. Stripes at all!"

Vira gaped at the wicked, self centered, ...spoiled... brain bubbling in rage beneath its crystalline dome. Plaid talking back and the situation escaping its control had cracked the impressively steely mind, allowing Vira to get a rush of information that suddenly clicked with all the investigating Nick had done, the questions he had asked and ponies he talked to.

Nick's cool calm never wavered in defiance of the tantrum Mr. Stripes was lost to, the murmur of confusion running through the crowd, or the large alicorn puffing angry breaths through her flaring nostrils beside the stunned Plaid. He took slow, measured steps through the crowd parting around him, walking right up the stage and clopping his forehooves together in applause to his assistant and her deduction.

Turning a sly smirk to the crowd from the stage, Nick sidled right up to the flailing white robobrain and blew a plume of smoke in its face. "Good job dollface, I knew you'd get there once the show started. Now I imagine you're picking up a few choice pictures from this mook's brain, but let me do the whole mystery reveal, I love this bit. Fillies and Gentlecolts of Stable 118, my lovely assistant here is right, this isn't Mr. Stripes, it's a murderer. One who'd have you believe she's the victim and nearly got away with it, isn't that right... Spoiled Rich?"

Nick pulled the battered screwdriver he used to pick locks from his tail and dove at the flinching 'Mr. Stripes', scraping away a long gouge in his gleaming white body to reveal a flash of faded pink, eliciting a collective gasp from the crowd. As he paced the stage and continued his theatrical reveal, Vira could see everything he said playing out in the ... mare's mind. Saw each of Nick's deductions proven true as he made them through the memories of Spoiled Rich before her.

"Spoiled here was the only real holdout to Plaid's plans, I'm guessing she saw the outside as a threat, a place to be conquered and ruled, not to make friends with. Since it was Plaid Stripes' father calling the shots, she tried to convince him directly, down in her little secret lair in the unfinished section." Vira saw Spoiled's mania and desperation flash before her, of the robotic mare plotting and making grand plans for decades since learning about it from Longfellow's wife. Saw her tantrums at Plaid's plans and her confidence when she dragged Mr. Stripes to the caverns beneath their hooves.

Continuing leisurely, Nick's cigarette bobbed as he flipped through his notes to refresh himself and continued, a deferential nod to Plaid for having to tell her this way. "They argued, there was a struggle, accident or not though, two ponies entered that trailer downstairs, but only one came back. I'm sorry Plaid, but your father was the victim here, this bitch masquerading as him was the one who killed him."

The pang of grief and denial from Plaid hurt, but Vira consoled herself that at least she didn't see what Vira could. It was just as Nick said, Spoiled brought him down to those dank caverns, threw a tantrum when she didn't get her way, raged and bucked and before she knew it bashed his braincase wide open. She watched Mr. Stripes gurgle out his last in a staticky squawk, already plotting how to get away with it before the body was even cold. All because..."

"You took him down there, but didn't think he'd pay any attention to anything beyond what you wanted him to see... He found out you were responsible for the unfinished Stable, for all those 'lower class' residents your selfishness killed! He became more determined to see his daughter's plans through to make up for it, not frightened and willing to go to war as you hoped. He was going to tell the others what you did, so you... You murdered Mr. Stripes..." Vira stomped her way forward angrily, feeling her eyes go dragonish and glowing as a rumble entered her voice.

"Just a little paint doesn't prove anything! It's probably some spare part from somepony else! W-We've several pink residents and with parts such an issue, I'm sure we all have hoof me down pieces. Which is why we should take what we need from the surface, so we aren't forced to scrimp and salvage old junk!" Spoiled tried to cover the pink scratch on her chassis, rolling backwards on her haunches defensively and stammering excuses.

"Old junk!? We never do junk work, even when we do have to reuse things Spoiled! You'd know that if you didn't always insist on new parts, but that came back to bite you in the rump too!" Main Spring shouted from the crowd, rolling through them from the door and making her way to the stage with her husband Professor Pickle in tow.

Nick had spoken with the two arcane scientists that acted as caring doctors here, counting on them knowing all their patients to provide evidence for him at the proper cue. He smiled at their approach now, holding a hoof out for Main Spring to grasp as she stormed up to the stage and filling the confused residents in. "Don't I know it doll, you and the Prof did the autopsy I asked you for like champs. Care to tell the folks what you found?"

Pickle Jar jabbered in his wife's wake, flipping through a clipboard of notes in his claws, his excitement at being part of the show clashing with Main Spring's barely contained fury as she went after Spoiled Rich. "Yes indeed Detective! Just like you asked, we took a close look and you were right! Besides having a fresh coat of pink paint covering Mr. Stripes' white, we discovered more evidence taking it apart. Everypony here knows we take our jobs seriously, just like you all know how fussy Spoiled was about her parts. The innards of the body discovered this morning were not those of Spoiled Rich though, we'd know them anywhere."

Darting a claw forward in a minor slap fight with Spoiled Rich, Main Spring wrenched open an access panel on her white barrel, pointing a shaking claw at the mellow glow of gold and jewels shining from within. Spoiled Rich really had made the two mechanics forge her wealth into the sparking arcano-tech guts gleaming in there, distinctive proof of who she was.

Spoiled Rich tried to slam the panel shut and back away, offering excuses neither Vira or the crowd were really paying attention to. Vira could feel the mob mentality she had tried to whip up as Mr. Stripes turning on her now, but was still following along with Nick's revealing the whole case, seeing every detail in the murdering mare's mind as he hit them.

She saw her leaving Mr. Stripes down in her lair, sneaking up in the dead of night and stealing tools she'd need to cover up the crime. Vira watched the memories of Spoiled using Mr. Stripes' voice sample from Main Spring's case to change her own voice box to sound like him, her nervous return of the holotape to the wrong place in the mechanic's carefully organized case a clue Nick had noticed when she pulled out the collection to fix Plaid. Saw her fumbling with a socket driver to switch her diamond ring cutie mark plate with Mr. Stripes' striped stars.

Vira half heard Mr. Cane shouting about his stolen paints as she saw how Spoiled took them, sneaking around the distracted artist hadn't been difficult, swiping his magical spray gun and the colors she'd need without disturbing the robotic stallion lost to his artwork. Both red and white had been set aside during Mr. Cane's inventory of pilfered paints, white to make herself look like Mr. Stripes, and red to mix with it to make pink to cover his body, the red that she had spilled in her haste.

She had snuck about during the night when most of the residents tried to hang on to their equinity and pretended at sleeping at least, finishing her coverup and dragging Mr. Stripes' body to the theatre before the first players would arrive. Once the murder was discovered, she wasted no time trying out her new position as Mr. Stripes and attempted to use her own 'death' as a chance to sway all the residents to her way of thinking.

Only Plaid's silly idea of seeking out authorities outside had proven a wrench in her careful plans. Spoiled allowed it as Plaid was supposed to handle running things for Mr. Stripes anyway and he always indulged her, she never expected Pearl to find a detective and bring them back. Spoiled's fears that Nick might find something only grew when Plaid came to ask about all the things she had been getting up to in her father's name. She flew in a rage and decided to eliminate the threat, trying to use Nick and Vira as convenient scapegoats to further her plans.

Vira should have known from the one short interraction they had when they arrived, but she had been trying not to pry into ponies' minds lately, only listening passively. She heard Mr. Stripes' feminine internal voice, but hadn't thought much of it. Some ponies heard their own voice very differently than others did, nearly all were surprised hearing a recording of themselves after all. It wasn't the first time she met a buck who thought like a mare or vice versa, and 'Mr. Stripes' had retreated from the detectives before she could hear much more.

She still bucked herself for missing it by trying to be polite, but realized Nick had seen that much even so early and not pushed. Having a mind reading mare friday may make things easier, but solving a case still required hard evidence he could point to. With Professor Pickle and his wife Main Spring performing his autopsy, along with Mr. Cane confirming the theft of his paints in a rage, Nick had made his case and had ponies on his side the residents here would trust more than just his hunch or Vira's psychic skills.

Now Vira could feel all those resident's belief in his work, the anger and betrayal they felt all swirling around them, focusing on the retreating Spoiled Rich. When she backed into the floating Mr. Handy Maxwell, Vira saw Nick's logic even convinced the less free thinking robot servants. Maxwell's claws shot out and pinned Spoiled's behind her back, ignoring her screeching in Mr. Stripes' voice.

"L-Let go of me this instant! I order all you robots to destroy those outsiders! They're lying! I am Mr. Stripes and you have to obey me!!" Spoiled raged and her treads spun trying to pull away from Maxwell's grip, shouting at the shiny silver robot and the army of Ponitrons ringing the room.

"Negative... Identification error, unable to verify Stable Overstallion Mr. Stripes. Authority rests solely with Overmare Plaid Stripes until conflict is resolved. I say ma'am, what are your orders considering this suspect?" Maxwell worked within his programming, but his Trottingham accent softened the cold logic he answered Spoiled's demands with, turning his eyestalks to the softly weeping Plaid behind Vira.

All eyes turned on Plaid, including Vira's soft green gaze on taking in the turmoil going on in her new friend's visible brain. A deep sadness at realizing her father was dead and a pang of panic seeing all her neighbors looking to her now, was struggling with a powerful anger surging to eclipse them.

The look she turned on Vira was desperate and uncertain, speaking in a weak, helpless voice full of hurt. "W-What do I do Vira? H-He's really... she killed him? I... I want her to pay for what she did... to...."

Feeling the flicker of murderous rage and grief coming from the kind and friendly Plaid cooled some of Vira's own anger, trotting over to hug her supportively and using her psychic gifts to let her feel the gesture more than her robotic body allowed, Vira answered the best she knew how. Before she would have said to kill Spoiled Rich for her crimes, that such a vile mare didn't deserve to live and that she'd happily destroy her. Now though, she didn't want to see Plaid repeat her mistakes, for the sunny mare to be tainted by casually killing as Vira had.

"I know Plaid, and I am sorry for your loss. It is your decision to make, but I can tell you from experience revenge won't make you feel better. I did many bad things myself, I took lives and hurt others as this hateful mare did, but somepony gave me a chance to be better rather than killing me when they could. W-When I deserved it as much or more as she does... It is up to you, but do you want your first decision as leader here to be one of vengeance or mercy? Which would your father want for you?"

Plaid sniffled miserably, a sense of disappointment warring with wonderfully warm feelings of her father, of how much he cared for her and what Mr. Stripes really would want for his daughter. As her resolve slowly coalesced from the grief such thoughts brought, Vira was glad to know she had said the right thing, joining her friend trudging up to the captive murderer.

"Spoiled Rich... You have this 'blank flank freak' to thank for your miserable life. Daddy wouldn't want me to kill you, even though you deserve it. Instead your punishment will be what you'll hate most. You can live out there with all those 'savages' you wanted to rule over, you are exiled from living in the luxury you insured for yourself and denied all those lower class guests who died because of you. Maxwell, take her out of here. Professor Pickle, Main Spring, Mr. Cane... could you help strip the prisoner of her disguise before we kick her out? I don't want her... sullying Daddy's memory out there looking and sounding like that..." Plaid spoke in a firm voice, shoving aside the tears and making a hard decision Vira still wasn't sure she had the strength to match, despite her advocating mercy.

She breathed a sigh of relief when Plaid made the call though, nuzzling her cool steel cheek when Plaid turned from Spoiled being dragged away and screeching in her father's voice. Vira could sense she wasn't the only one to admire Plaid's decision too, the residents all looked to her now and the first decision of her reign had been merciful and fair. Things would change here, but with Plaid in charge, the gathered residents felt hope for the first time in a long, long while.

Looking up from consoling the sad orange mare, Vira spotted Nick looking at her with a funny expression and feelings going on beneath the brown fedora he tipped her way. His conflicted feelings settled into one emotion that surprised her, pride... Pride in her...

The synth detective had been right, there was no happy ending to be had by solving this case. He had found a silver lining however and the warm emotion he felt towards his assistant pushed back the sadness she felt for Plaid and her loss. He was proud of Vira, admired her for helping Plaid to make the harder choice and felt real satisfaction with his new assistant.

She was a good detective and a good pony, a thought that made her feel that wonderful fluttery feeling in her heart again, this time born from true friendship instead of romance, but just as powerful. A different kind of love Vira had never really experienced before.

New Perk Added!-------------------

Cap Collector--------
---Getting your first paycheck and buying something for yourself for the first time has taught you the art of the deal! Buying and selling prices at vendors are now improved, making future transactions something to look forward to!