November 3, 1983
Over a month had passed since that portal opened just outside of the Grestin checkpoint. All of the nearby countries, Arstotzka included, closed their borders, temporarily putting you out of work. Thankfully, you were still paid compensation for your forced time off, but it wasn't nearly as much as you'd make working. Your family was still doing well, and your son and niece were still able to go to school, so not all was lost. Still, you had to get money from somewhere, so you were glad when the papers said the checkpoint would be open again.
As for the aliens or whatever, mostly peaceful relations were set up, though you haven't heard much on Arstotzkan policy regarding the ponies yet. Still, this probably means more paperwork down the road, so you have that to look forward to.
As you walk into the booth, you look for the usual paper that the MOA leaves on your desk every day. As expected, there was about a page of new regulations regarding the ponies, but only a couple sentences regarding what you actually have to do with them:
For the time being, deny all Equestrian immigrants. No exceptions.
Well, at least for now your job won't be much different. If anything, it'll be easier, because now you don't even have to check some of the immigrants.
You look outside to the line, where you can spot a few ponies mixed with the usual people. You can't help but notice that somehow the portal that opened up was moved back a fair bit, now somewhere near the start of the line. You heard that magic was commonplace in that other world, but you're not quite sure if you believe that yet.
Anyway, you have a job to do.
"Next!"
While you get your rule book in place for easy reference, you hear someone step into the booth. You look up to see a pony waiting. In fact, you're pretty sure that's the same pony that was the first one through the portal.
You know the rules, but you still have to follow protocol. "Papers, please."
"Certainly." The pony levitates her papers through the window with her magic, something that makes you hesitate slightly to pick them up. "I think it's odd that your country hasn't arranged for me or the other princesses to meet their leaders," the pony continues talking, "but I figure now would be a good time to start good relations." She gives you a friendly smile. You glance at the name on the passport: Twilight Sparkle. These ponies sure do have odd names. Not that it matters, at the moment.
"No entry to Equestrians," you tell her, stamping her passport and not even giving her other papers a second look.
Her smile drops. "W-What? But... I made sure all my papers were in order, I even researched what I needed to get in..."
You hold the papers out impatiently, waiting for her to take them back. She notices this and levitates them from your hand, making you flinch back slightly. Twilight walks back out of the booth, disappointed, while you make sure your hand isn't sprouting extra fingers or anything.
"Next!"
The next person isn't a pony, so no quick denial there. "Papers, please."
As you look over the documents, the young woman speaks. "You know, I don't really think anything good can come from those ponies."
Issuing city checks out, all documents are up to date...
"I mean, with that magic of theirs, what's keeping them from just taking over all of us?" she continues.
Looks like everything's good here. You stamp her passport and give everything back to her. "Cause no trouble."
"Tell that to those horses." She leaves, and you move your rule book slightly.
"Next!"
Another pony walks in, and you go ahead and prepare the denial stamp. "Papers, please."
They give them to you, and you almost immediately get the stamps placed. "No entry to Equestrians."
The pony looks shocked, but says nothing as he walks out of the booth.
"Next!"
"Papers, please," you say without looking up. When you do look up, you see that familiar blue hood. God dammit.
He hands you a small piece of dark blue paper, which you read quickly.
You did not assist us in our quest to help Arstotzka, but perhaps you can help now.
We feel the Equestrians cannot be trusted. They could potentially undermine all we've been working for.
We have an agent named Andrew Woods arriving in two days. You will approve him.
You hand the note back to the figure, and he only says "The Order awaits," before slinking back to wherever he came from. Damn anarchists.
"Next!"
You hear footsteps come in, but when you look up you don't see anyone. Getting out of your chair slightly, you see that three small ponies were standing there, all of them smiling.
You simply stick with protocol. "Papers, please."
The three of them laugh for some reason before three passports make their way onto your desk. You look at them, and somehow manage to not burst out laughing. All three of them were drawn with crayon, with varying degrees of skill shown. Beyond not having any of the other required papers, there were a number of reasons why you couldn't approve them, including the fact that they appeared to be minors, if the dates of birth were accurate, and if ponies aged similarly to humans.
"These passports are no good," you tell them, a small smirk present on your face despite your best efforts. They really were just kids.
All three of them let out a big "Aaaaww," and the white unicorn said, "Now we'll never get our traveling cutie marks!"
You stamp the crudely made passports and hand them back to the young ponies, and they walk out sadly. You page a guard to escort them to a waiting room in the nearby gulag, and you see that happen outside. No matter the species, kids are kids, you think while looking at your son's crayon drawing on the wall.
"Next!"
The next several people don't offer much interesting events, apart from someone getting caught smuggling a knife and Jorji coming back with a new passport. There were a couple of ponies, but they were denied quickly.
"Next!"
By now you had been able to differentiate the sound of shoes and hooves, so you were already getting the denial stamp ready when a white unicorn walked into the booth. "Papers, please."
"Oh, I, uh, have no papers," she says. You look up and see that her face has a look of distress. "I'm looking for some fillies, actually, have they gone through here?"
You think back to the three small ponies (fillies, you mentally added), and remembered that the white one looked somewhat related to the unicorn standing in your booth now. Outside, the horn signaling the end of the day went off, and the line thinned out as people went home.
"Was it a group of three fillies, one of which was a white unicorn?"
"Yes!" Her demeanor picks up noticeably. "Have you seen them?"
"Yes, they tried to get in with fake passports. I had a guard escort them to the waiting room."
"Oh, thank heavens!" She leaves the booth, and as you get your personal belongings together, you watch as she goes into the gulag, then comes back out with the three fillies in tow. From the looks of things, she was scolding them. You chuckle. Maybe ponies weren't so different from humans after all.