The Judge

Bullet thought about it. If he won then he could leave, and if he lost, then he wouldn't be in any worse condition then he was now.

"Deal, let's get started." He said to the guard.

"C'mon Bullet," Bullet thought to himself, "where's that famous luck you have?"

Renaultar chuckled and returned the kiss to her own cheek. Eyes wide with a big smile, he noted how time at treated her over the years. "A delight to see you. It is destiny we talk again. I will have one of my escort see you to my train car if you have the time to spare. You are welcome to make yourself at home." He glanced at the pony on his left, whom immediately stiffened up and quickly saluted.

"Yes Judge Sir!" He said and spun around to take lead.

Renaultar took a bow again and passed by her side very closely, his tail brushing her. "Do see me there please. I would be sooo very disappointed if not." His words seemed less of an invitation and more a command to the ears of his fellow armored ponies, as the escort looked at her expectantly.

Renaultar took one last parting look before continuing on with the guard toward the mayor's office. He waited outside, not letting himself until the door was opened for him. His remaining escort took a stance outside the door, keeping watch while their business was here.

The mayor sat in her office with an open door looking absolutely exhausted. The liquor bottle the fancy talker had brought had been removed from the top of her desk and placed in her 'personal reserve' in a drawer. She raised her head and looked up at the stallion in golden gleaming armor and her face hardened from her tired and weakened state to one of rage. "Well who are you and why are you standing in the damn door?"


The lighter pony grinned at the prospect of making even more money today from his friend, as well as this jailed pony. He swiftly moved his collected flasks to the area around the cage while his friend allowed Bullet his alcohol back. They both placed their bets at two shots of moonshine and waited for the jailbird to place his.

Something rather disconcerting lay in the stallion's words. Victoria stifled a perplexed expression as she  saw him away. In accordance with her impressions, Renaultar truly now reflected something apart - and startlingly so, at that. What devices composed he, the mare pondered, which were to reciprocate that which was her intention unto herself? Beneath a disheveled smile, there perhaps stood he, adamant; pensive. And so she was compelled, she by whom submission was rarely conceived, to obey. 

"Comrade," she greeted minimally, nodding at the escort who had dislodged from Renaultar's company. She joined at his flank cautiously. 

Bullet added his two shots of moonshine to the other's bets.

"Alright who wants to start?" he asked, wishing he had his pair of "special" dice with him, but sadly he had left them back at his station.

The escort that led Victoria back to the train seemed to relax a little once they were out of sight of his superior. Still, there was an unspoken tension in the air. He silently led her out the blast doors and to the side of the train. Its golden plating and armaments were so unnecessarily extravagant. Several of those whom worked on board were lounging around outiside, getting to stretch their legs and just be ponies. The arrival of the escort got some to avoid their stares at Victoria and quiet up.

"I can show you to the Royal Judge's train car if you like, or if you prefer, you can wait out here." The silent guard said, turning to face Victoria with a grin that you never thought a pony like him could have when he stoically escorted Renaultar.

---

"Ah, then i shall graciously let myself in." Renaultar chuckled and trotted into the office. He took a humbling stance before her desk and produced a scrolls from inside his armor. "I am Judge Renaultar Shielder from the Royal Line. It is a pleasure to meet you, and I hope the supplies of food and resources we are dropping of is of help to you." He gave her a rather knightly grin, teeth shining and eyes gentle. His mannerisms seemed to be more refined on this occasion with more important interests at stake.

As if her day couldn't get any worse. She raised her head and knocked away her helplessness and harnessed her frustration from Victoria's meeting. A burning fire kindled in her eyes where there had once been helplessness. Every good leader pushes aside their personal feelings to make everypony else feel as everything was just business as normal, even if Death itself was staring them all in the face. And she did just that for the good of her station. "The Judge, right. The ever famous massacreer of innocents or anypony who just happens to get in the way of your sense of 'justice'. You're on sovereign territory, if you try that shit here our entire alliance will see to it that you and your goons are dead. We may be small, but we have more stations than the Reich and the Royals can't afford another war. I don't think Horsna would take kindly to one of their stations being at the frontline of a war. Say what you're going to say then I'll decide whether or not I'll boot your ass out of here."




The tin can guard tossed the dice in the air. "I'm going first so this suka doesn't cheat..."

The other pony put his foreleg over his friend's shoulder right after the dice fell on 3, knocking him out of the round. "See? I don't cheat, you just have bad luck." He picked up the dice and placed them in front of Bullet. "You go next, as a sign of good faith." (if you have two dice, roll them and post your results. If you don't have any I'll roll and post in in my next post)

As they passed through congregations of Royal units, her lip admitted a single and ever so slight twitch. Had she any less control, her dignified prance might have reduced to ginger steps. It was as though she were dodging snakes.

Then, he had spoken. Victoria withheld her reply until she had scrutinized, with piercing stare, the stallion in his entirety.

"If I choose the former, would you go with me?" she inquired all too warmly, casually, answering his grin with a persuasive smile.

Recuperation from what was apparent devastation required perpetual forward locomotion; an assessment of just how much could be done to negate impending damnation.

"If you will grant me a conversation, Your Consequentialness, I'd love to clarify a few things."

Bullet threw the dice into the air, and waited for them to land.

"Come on 7." He mumbled to himself. The dice landed on a six. "Damn! jsut short." Bullet swore, bu at last he was stil in the game. He passed the dice to the other player.

The Judge only seemed to brighten his smile at the listing of his 'accomplishments'. "Aha. Yes. Well if my intentions to your wonderful station were of ill meaning, then I assure you I would have skipped a few of the 'formalities'."

He moved in close, leaning over the desk a bit, almost entering that personal space one gains when a desk is between them. His hoof placed an old fashion style scroll before her, having the royal mark on it.

"Here is the paperwork for it, but I'll spare you the unnecessary and booooring details." He backed off and gazed up at the ceiling. "One of two ponies were responsible for the disaster that ruined our world and its former glory." He said the last part quickly, not caring to keep his mind on that bit for too long. "One of them was killed in the blast, the other...." He moved in close to her desk again. "Is here. You know her as 'Shalaska Woods', or 'Tickyclock' as her legal name goes. Shala seems to be the most commonly used. Evidence as been found proving her link and aid to this disaster, nearly giving her as much credit to our situation as the maker of the device." He could see he was getting a bit carried away and dragged his hoof across the top of the desk quickly, as one would to roll the keys on a piano.

"She lives here. And I have been sent to retrieve her before any word got out, lest she escape....Of course....I know that a mare such as yourself may not care for things already past, or about 'judgement' that you are not to be a part of, but..."

He took a moment to get comfortable and sit down, his armor making a 'thunk' on the ground. "....Grant my ponies access to investigate and aid in her capture and there is 500 bottles worth of reward for you....And perhaps we may find that 'killer' of yours while we are at it. Hmmmmmm?" He said grinning widely.


---


The guard blinked, processing her words. He was not as inept at fancy talk, but was not prepared to find them here and in this mare. Still, he faltered to find words for just a moment before speaking.

"It...is preferable that i keep you company. But I will have to search you for any weapons and other items before you can be allowed on. Judge's orders." He looked down to her bladed horse shoe to point out it did not escape his attention even in his hesitation.

The other pony scooped up the dice, rolling them in his hoof with a grin on his face. Suddenly his eyes dilated and he froze with his mouth hanging wide open as a skull splitting high pitched noise filled the room. The dice fell from his hoof and onto the floor, showing up as an 8. He shook his head, clearing whatever influence had taken hold of him. "Sorry guys. It's been fun, but I have places to be." He levitated all six shots toward Bullet. "You should be able to post bail now if you want to be penniless. Play a few more rounds with Sour Luck here and you might clean him out of his salary this week." He punched his guard friend in his armored shoulder and walked off, leaving them both to their headaches.


When the armored stallion invaded her bubble she promptly putting her hoof on his nose and shoving him back on his rump and slid the scroll off her desk. She glared harshly at him while he spoke. She'd seen and somewhat known Shala all her life. The stories of The Judge being batshit insane were true. She had to get him out of the station. Then he mentioned to alcohol. Her jaw dropped Five hundred bottles. It didn't matter what kind it was, either way she could buy so much...

She stared dumbstruck at him until a light blue pony stuck his head in the door with a large grin on his face. "Did somepony say five-hundred bottles?"

His hesitance was her ambrosia. What liberties he granted were hers to exploit, and it was all the better.

"Fair enough," Victoria replied contentedly. She dislodged the shimmering blade - resonating as it struck the sole of her boot - and placed it before the stallion with the blunt end facing his hooves.

Then, such that he would not demand any further dispossession, she coaxed him into the privacy of the silver rail cart.

The extravagant neo-Equestrian interior revived memories which had long ago been laid to rest. It was, in a word, quaint; for a car decorated for accommodation was still, at the end of the day, a car. She moved to the light and without prompt seated herself before it, initiating by momentum their conversation.

"Tell me, mon ami, have you a name and a purpose?" Victoria prefaced almost mockingly, curious as to what extent her companion was subservient to The Judge, and moreover to confirm suspicions regarding their affiliation. She caught his eye in her own to instigate a response.

Bullet thought for a minute.

"Well, I've been told I gamble too much, so what the hell, let's keep going." He put in three shots of moonshine to start off the bet. He then sat back, and waited for the guard to place his bet.

The Judge smiled ever so wide now. He stood tall and pointed a hoof dramatically at the horizon. "Five hundred bottles alive. Two hundred dead. Fifty for any relatives, offspring, and the like. All the details are in..." He picked up the scroll she had pushed off her desk and placed it before her once again. "...this royally stamped scroll here."

He took a seat back and hummed to himself for a moment. "All you need to do...Is help me catch her. And we can begin by....letting my ponies in to try and apprehend her, or find where she went. I have a feeling that with the recent devastation that went on that she may have something to do with it."

---


The pony in silver armor took the blade and frowned as she invited herself on board. He followed her inside, keeping a 'close' eye on her. Inside the front car was packed with shelving, bunk beds, and cargo area along with openings for use as battlements. This part of the train was not nearly as extravagant as the outside.

"You can call my Clyde, Miss." He said, not sounding too enticed or detached. While he mannerisms suggested he kept to his priorities, his eyes suggested other thoughts as they wondered over her.

"Allow me to take you to The Judge's office car." He lead the way to the back of the car, reaching a heavy secured door. It looked to have a solid locking mechanism, but was unlocked for the moment. Sliding it open and moving in, Vicky would see the exterior extravagance matched.

Wood furnishings and gold bordering lined most everything. Each corner had a partial column made of marble. The desk in the middle was carved out of wood that looked difficult to find. And the grand peice of the whole room was the piano built into the back, surrounded by trophies on the walls in the form of worn weapons and armor with bullet holes in it. Comfortable sofa's flanked the area before the desk, one of which Clyde took stance next to.

"I suggest you keep your hooves off anything shiney. He will know. He can tell." He said, a hint of anxiety in his tone. "....So...You know him?"

The mayor was too overcome to even speak. She stared down at the envelope, the promise of so much money was highly tempting and started to wear away at her. However she was saved by Icicle poking his head in the door and asking about the money. "Icicle, get out of here, I'm having a meet-"

He stepped into the room, still wearing his stalker gear from earlier in the day. "How much for a lead?"



The guard fell over onto his back, holding his helmeted head in both hooves. He writhed in agony from a skullsplitting headache. "God damnih... oh fuck of fuck oooow!"

Victoria had remained in her seat by the light of the office car, impassive, hearing his words. Then, as though it were a volley to be returned thereat, she whirled onto her hooves and began circling him.

"And if I lay my hooves on your shiny things? Will he know? Can he tell?" Victoria reciprocated, deflecting the latter question. "I'd have 'zought you owned the teeth in your skull, Clyde."

Her spontaneous jeers dissolved into a playful smile, and this she displayed upon rounding his opposite shoulder.

"Yes, dear. I do know him. We were lovers and more, he and I, when Equestria was green. Though," she admitted more solemnly, "It is perhaps so that you recognize a different Renaultar than I did. It is perhaps so that these times have wreaked their wrath. And so if I may ask again: what brings you?"

Bullet looked up from his bet.

"well?" he asked just as the guard fell over, holding his head in his hooves. "What the..." then Bullet felt it as well, blinding pain, the likes of which he had never felt before. He fell over like the guard, holding his head in his hooves. "Dear Luna, what is this? Make it stop!!"

The Judge watched the mayor with a sparkle in his eye. He loved to see the sudden change of heart in the ponies around him. He was more than happy to feed into it. "500 bottles. Could renovate your station. Improve defenses. Grow more food for yourselves. You might even outdo your sister stations and become the head manager of them. Why, ponies would talk of how wonderful a station it is, and those living here would have such comfortable lives. A great way to change for the better after this....mess of a murderer who came charging through. All once this one simple pony that no pony would really miss is brought in to me." He let his tone soften, sounding more like a sane pony with pity for the mayor.

"Leads?" He looked over his shoulder at Icicle before turning to encourage the excitement. "Hmm...I would say...20 bottles that get us anywhere closer. Even that in itself is a nice amount to spend, no? You could help families with that."

----


Clyde recoiled slightly at her jeers and questions. He thought this pony would be a lot more easy to handle. She seemed alluring enough from the start. His defensive demeanor changed though as he re calibrated his position with her. Clyde had delt with ponies whom fought with words. He looked at her hard, clearly unappreciative of her question to the ownership of his enamels.

Then she mentioned that she and 'The Judge' were lovers. His hard stare lightened for a moment, no realizing that if such a relationship still held true, what he said to her now might come back to him later. He chose his words carefully, but still held strong.

"Listen Miss....Whatever your name may be. You may be a special guest here, but I run this train when he is not on board it. I can uninvite you from it if I want to." He let his words be followed by silence before going on. "...And i can't say I knew the Judge before things changed. He has always been....loose on the screws since i have known him, but damn effective. I am here because I am following the path my father took before the bomb went off. And that is that of the Royal Guard."

He lighted up his stern look for a moment. "...Quid quo pro?"

Icicle grinned and bowed, obviously not in seriousness. "Well I can take you to somepony who ran after the bombardier who went after the shit that bombed her house, really good friend of mine. He hasn't talked at all since coming back from the surface, though."


The guard seemed to be taking it much worse than Quill. He wasn't even able to form proper sentences. "Huma oh shit fuh heh mom... make it fuck shit ARGH!"

Her fluid gestures were halted by the delivery of these news. After a moment's consideration, she pivoted - arresting her hooves between his forelegs, closing the space between the two - and shifted onto her haunches. Whatever severity of expression had he, Victoria would endeavor to imitate; and so she bore resolutely into the depths of his pupils.

"Sister endures the same, subservient to a grand machine," replied the mare with betraying simplicity.

She raised her snout and inhaled. "The Royal Guard," she pronounced slowly, perhaps displaying scrutiny. "It seems you and I 'ave been associates for far longer 'zan I 'ad imagined. And what a curious case besets our friend... 'Twas always 'zat passion of his - in his heart and in his head. Indeed, new fortune has left its seeds in my dear Renny."

"Now, whereupon I displease you, do pardon me monsieur." she acknowledged, still yet with tease.

"-And you may call me Victoria."

The Judge looked to the station mayor again, as if waiting for a response from her, but got none yet. Figuring her still catatonic with the reward amount, he turned his full attention to the pony at the door.

"A good friend you say? Whom does not talk? And ran after the one whom bombed HER house?" This was news to him. He grinded his smile ever so slightly, teeth creaking. "....And this friend of yours is a lead? Pray tell?"

---

Clyde winced and leaned back nervously as she moved in close to him. The last time he was this close to a mare was when he kissed one. A blush began to run across his face and betray his attempt to establish control earlier.

"Its...Alright Victoria." He said in reply to her apology, his eyes darting about. "Did...uh...you two fall out or something? I haven't seen you before, nor has he spoken of you. I figured him a..." He kept his mouth shut, preferring to not speak negatively of his rather questionable boss.

"...You live anywhere near Polis?" He dared to ask.

The next time The Judge turned to look at the mayor he would find the scrolls he had placed on her desk to be thrown forcefully into his face. "I want you out of my station. Icicle, out of my sight, you're lucky I don't banish you for treason."

The normally hapy-go-lucky pony's face instantly became distressed. "Boss... you don't mean..."

She slammed a hoof into her desk. "This is the mad as a hatter pony executing Terror of the Metro and you're trying to do business with him! Both of you! OUT. NOW."



A short while later the guard's body went limp. His silence was broken by a small groan. "Ugh... what happ... hey... are you all right?"

Her response was intense. "Do you court me, ma douce rebelle? The Judge lives. His order is hard and better in execution; be mindful 'zat 'zat which is so is so by reason."

First Victoria paused, bearing into his pupils, indulging in his redness. Then, chuckling facetiously, she dismissed her own accusations. "I belong to an industrial complex relatively far from here, in fact. Now I've 'miles to go before I sleep', to be sure; 'Tis no simple visit..."

With a swift motion of the hoof, she began caressing his chin.

"Love is said not to be unlike fire and powder, which as they kiss consume. And in years, 'zere remains nothing to be seen and told. But may they kiss again?" teased she with parted lips inviting his.

Where the Machiavellian lion asserted his sovereignty, the fox exercised his cunning.

Bullet opened his eyes, the pain in his head was still there, but not as severe as before.

"I'll live," he said "damn, what was that? I mean I've heard some jails were harsh, but I've never heard of them attacking their own guards as well."

"What's next?" he though to himself, "they're gonna give me a knife, and then sic watchers on me or something?"

The Judge silently sighed. The result was a disappointment, but only a minor setback. The next part of the trail was before him already. He hardly fliched at the scroll hit him.

"How unfortunate....Simple assistance against a known criminal that could land you wealth to ease your lives for so long...turned down. And they call ME crazy!" He laughed long and deep. An unsettling laugh.

"I would be delighted to meet again, but I cannot promise the terms to have gone unchanged....Toodles!" He picked up the scroll and secured it before going out the door. Immediatly after doing so, he smiled at Icicle with great interest.

"How about we accompany each other, hmm? You can start by telling me about your 'friend'."

---

Clyde felt so many alarms going off in his head. He knew that this mare was going to be trouble. Already she was proving to be very clever and manipulative. He knew that was probably how she conducted herself most, if not, all the time. The Judge could kill him. She could use him. He had hardly much to gain.

And yet he pressed his lips into hers, making a kiss. Her gentle caressing on his chin, her suggested kiss, the parting of her lips. He felt desires for things he though he could never have come up.

He fell into her trap, and he knew it. He knew all too well. But he was going to make the best of it.