Farmer Bruener Has Some Ponies
Power Games
“The measure of a man is what he does with power.”
― Plato
- - - - ⧖ - - - -
Time: 5:30 P.M. Central Standard Time, June 19, 2015
KU Medical Center, Kansas City
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The second FBI visit to the alien’s hospital room took place much later than Deputy Attorney General Gates wanted. The last few hours had seen just about every obstacle thrown into her path, starting with the failure of the agent sent to secure the aliens, and progressing rather quickly afterward when the video of the agent’s visit hit the internet.
Hit like a water balloon full of gasoline into a fireworks factory.
Reporters for every newspaper, radio station, tv station, internet blog, and local penny press had started crowding into the hospital like bureaucrats around an open bar, and there was no end in sight. Tow trucks did a merry business keeping the emergency room entrance clear, the local police had to break up three fist fights between photographers, and that was before Gates found out the few additional ponies three hours away was actually more than two hundred of them, already under the protective custody of the US Army.
Several of the FBI agents later privately hypothesized that Gates had once been a sailor.
By the time Gates managed to make it up to the patient’s floor, she had cooled down to simply seething. At this rate, evacuating the two ponies here would take until past midnight before their medical charter plane would touch down at Reagan International. That would push the entire team of agents into double-overtime, and that was without even considering the difficulty in getting enough agents into Randolph to handle the mass of aliens there.
After all, the last humans who should control supposedly friendly aliens was a bunch of soldiers! It would only be a matter of time before some half-trained private just out of school would panic and shoot one of them, then the whole situation would break down into chaos. The crushing crowd of civilians outside the hospital only made it more obvious in her eyes that the creatures needed her government protection, and the quicker, the better.
There was a Kansas Highway Patrol officer standing outside the hospital door, who nodded and stepped aside when Gates flashed her identification, but only after examining it closely, along with the badges of the other four agents she had with her. Since the local police were involved, this first transfer should proceed without any more problems, which was a good sign.
The hospital beds were much as they had been pictured in the video, only with more wires and tubes around the extraterrestrial visitors. There were two nurses around the Granny Smith alien, carefully monitoring a blood pressure cuff around one green leg and adjusting sensors, but both of the aliens appeared to be sleeping, which was good. The aliens needed to be kept anesthetized and unconscious until their arrival at a detention center in Walter Reed, because Gates was not looking forward to finding out if a taser had any effect on their alien physiology, doubled since they were already injured. None of the agents in the delegation assigned to transport the two aliens to Maryland were nurses or doctors, but one of the agents was hiring an anesthesiologist to keep them drugged up during the flight, and should have him at the charter by the time they were ready to take off.
Before Gates could say anything, a distinguished older man in a rumpled suit stood up from a visitors chair near the window and moved forward.
“Ah, Deputy Gates. I was wondering when you would arrive.”
At first glance, the man in the rumpled suit did not look like a physician, or even that impressive. Age had made his hair go entirely to grey while his gut expanded, making him look a little like a Santa Claus with a shorter beard and less of a jolly attitude. There was no twinkle in those dark eyes, or smile making his cheeks dimple, but rather an expression of great solemnity that bothered Gates.
“Sir, I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask you to leave,” said Gates. “We have two patients to transport.”
“Actually, not.” The old man produced several sheets of paper bearing official seals and dark signatures. “A restraining order prohibiting the removal of two individuals listed as Jane Doe One and Two, from the Kansas University Medical Center until their medical situation has been suitably resolved. Oh, and another one for a group of Jane and John Does currently residing in Randolph, Kansas. You see, Miss Gates, you lack Federal jurisdiction, as the individuals have been determined by Judge Pendergast to be present in Kansas without having crossed across any state borders. It’s an interesting legal question that our founding fathers seemed not to have anticipated, and I’m looking forward to seeing how various legal counsels interpet interdimensional portals in regards to existing law. In any event, since they are here, and the Kansas authorities have not requested assistance from the Federal Bureau of Investigation, you’re stuck.”
Gates spluttered. “This is outrageous. Who’s going to provide security? Who’s going to protect them?”
The older man continued to put away a number of things into his briefcase, only stopping when his chair was clear of the papers he had been working on. “Currently, local law enforcement and members of the military are doing a fine job, from what Governor Brown has told me. He will be putting in a request to the president to allow the continued use of the National Guard and related forces to counter any major security risk, while the locals handle the day to day activities of our guests until they return home. Isn’t that right, Governor Brown?”
“Quite correct, Judge Pendergast,” sounded a voice in the room which Gates identified as coming from the speaker of a cell phone sitting on the nearby table. “Deputy Attorney General Gates, I presume? This is Governor Brown, and I’m the one who contacted the Federal District Court to get a restraining order against your agency until things can get worked out legally. I hope you don’t mind.”
“I do mind,” snapped Gates. “The aliens need to be under Federal protection.”
The governor laughed. “I think you’ll find it easier to think of them as misplaced tourists, stranded in our state for a day or two rather than aliens. It’s only right that the State of Kansas makes sure they’re taken care of until their metaphorical bus comes back and picks them all back up again, and that will be a very difficult time if they’re all ‘protected’ in Washington when their governmental leaders get their return portal set up here.”
“But they’re aliens! From space!” added Gates while pointing at the sleeping ponies, but lowered her voice at the gesture of one of the nurses who put a finger up to her lips.
“We’re considering them just to be extremely foreign nationals without citizenship papers,” explained the governor. “We’ve notified their home nation, and duplicate copies of their paperwork will be sent here as soon as possible. Their home seems very organized.”
“You’ve… talked to their leader?” Gates gave a nervous look at the door to the hospital room as if some giant space-horse was about to step into the room, but there was nobody there except the Highway Patrol officer who was pretending not to listen to the ongoing conversation.
“We’ve exchanged several letters,” explained the governor. “Between us, we have determined it will be best to keep the Equestrian nationals as close to the site of their first appearance as possible to facilitate their return when they get their return portal set up on Monday.”
“There are security matters with that—” started Gates before the governor cut her off.
“Security is taken care of. The entire First Infantry Division is parked about thirty minutes away from Randolph, if that will make you feel any better. In any event, it is my judgement as governor that our interdimensional visitors are peaceful, and mostly a little embarrassed about dropping in on us without an invitation.” There was a clicking from the phone and the governor started talking faster.
“Well, that’s a call from the 202 area code, so it might be the president. Sorry to step on your toes this way, Deputy Director, but you might as well stick around Kansas City for a few days, see the sights, and stay available if your boss needs anything. Enjoy your stay in our fair state. Later.”
With a sharp click, the call cut off.
- - - - ⧖ - - - -
Time: 5:45 P.M. Central Standard Time, June 19, 2015
- - - - ⧖ - - - -
It was a quiet and sullen group of FBI agents who waited at the hospital elevator, with Deputy Attorney General Gates holding the leading position in both position and mood. She quirked her lips to one side while working through her thoughts, then turned to Agent Anacostia and held out her hand.
“Phone.”
“What, Ma’am?” Karla Anacostia swallowed, but took her phone out from under her jacket and passed it over to the deputy AG, then unlocked it when she passed it back with a frown.
“Personal phone too,” said Gates with her other hand out.
“I don’t have a personal phone on me any more,” said Karla. “We’re permitted to use our government phones for limited personal use, and it was a pain to carry two since I never called anyone on it. I’ve got a TracFone in my glove compartment for emergencies, if that will help.”
Gates only grunted and thumbed open the call history on Karla’s phone, as well as the few of her recent text messages, before passing it back. “Somebody clued the governor in to our visit here,” she grumbled. “And if it came out of our department, I’ll skin the bastard alive.”
“Probably one of the press downstairs,” suggested one of the other agents.
“Maybe.” Gates jabbed the illuminated down button on the elevator again. “When we get back to the conference room, I want to get every agent we’ve got together and work out a plan to transport the aliens to Quantico. The governor’s restraining order only applies in Kansas. Once they cross state lines, they’re a Federal responsibility, and I want them in Maryland before they know what happened.”
“You’ll want one of the hospital staff to notify us in case they move the patients,” said Karla. “If you give me one of your business cards, Miss Gates, I’ll leave it with the nurses. I sat my coffee down back there anyway, and that gives me an excuse.”
“Good idea.” Gates peeled off several business cards and passed them to Karla, who turned and headed down the hall just as the poky elevator arrived. She kept her pace regular and measured, passing the nurse’s station and nodding at the Highway Patrol officer at the door before slipping inside the hospital room with a quick glance behind her.
“Claire!” Karla nodded her head at the elderly judge and gave a quick cough. “Judge Pendergast. Um…” She tugged at one ear with a questioning expression directed at Claire.
“I’m not recording,” said Claire.
“OhthankGod,” said Karla in one burst, turning back to the judge. “I’m sorry, Your Honor. I thought you’d be gone by now.”
“Just talking to these two lovely, intelligent ladies,” said the judge, casting a quick glance at the tall nurse and Claire Bruener in a borrowed set of scrubs. “Seems quite a coincidence that the governor of Kansas had my personal cell number. I distinctly remember giving it to you during that kidnapping affair a few months back, although things here seem to have worked out for the best.”
“About that.” Karla gave Claire a sharp glance. “What did you do with the tablet camera? I saw it propped up in the corner there.”
“Turned it off when you guys left.” Claire produced her android tablet and showed the video window with Director Gates in the rough center, frowning fiercely. “I was just about to upload it to YouTube, but the hospital wifi sucks.”
“A few hundred reporters sponging off it drags down the bandwidth,” said Karla rapidly. She peeked out the hospital room door to make sure no other agents had wandered back in her direction before turning back to Claire. “Don’t. Just don’t. Putting that on YouTube is a really bad idea.”
“What, is it illegal?”
The judge interrupted. “Kansas is a one-party consent state, so technically recording Miss Gates and myself was not illegal. It was, however, unwise.”
“You don’t get to her position in Washington by being nice,” said Karla. “You get it by winning fights. She wants to win this one bad. A nice, mutual press conference in Walter Reed with all the major networks listening to how she provided assistance to our alien visitors would play nicely. Then in about a year after the next election, the Attorney General retires, and she moves up, along with everybody who helped her.”
“I see.” Claire slid the video into a folder and closed it. “And anybody who doesn’t help—”
“Bounces under the bus like a dead possum. Oh.” Karla pulled out the DAG’s business cards, then scribbled a number on the backs of two of them. “Deputy AG’s cell on the front. My personal TracFone on the back. Find something that makes her look good, give her a call. Otherwise, give me a call, and we’ll try to fix it. And try to keep them in Kansas. If they cross state lines, she’s going to try to hustle them off to Quantico, but I don’t think she’ll break a restraining order. Go around your back maybe, but she’s got enough respect for the law to keep to it. Unless she can get somebody else in the court to overturn it.”
“I’ll talk to my peers. I think the quieter we keep this, the better off everybody will be.” Judge Pendergast took one of the business cards and tucked it away before looking at the tall nurse in the room, who had been very quiet to this point. The nurse silently nodded back and put a finger to her lips before turning back to Granny Smith and checking a sensor wire. Likewise, the Highway Patrol officer at the hospital room door gave them all a short nod, touched his lips like he was closing a zipper, and returned to his silent observation of the corridor.
Karla picked up the foam coffee cup she had intentionally left behind and took a quick drink. “Well, that’s it for now. Not enough coffee in the world to handle the upcoming hours-long meeting on my day off to deal with planning for an alien invasion ex post facto. Uh,” she added, looking around the room. “Speaking of which, where is the scary one? Goose, I believe?”
“Watching my granddaughter. She was visiting today, and I had to tear out of the Federal Building so fast, I didn’t get a chance to find a sitter,” said Judge Pendergast.
He opened the door to the bathroom where the young girl and the dark batpony were sitting quietly in the middle of the tile floor. The judge’s granddaughter had stripped Goose of her armor before giving the reluctant human-sitter a long brushing, ending in what had obviously been an epic fun time of tying the batpony’s long mane up in colorful ribbons, including one that held the short mane on top of her head straight up like a dark violet haystack. “Come on, honeybunch,” called out the judge. “Time to go.”
“Aww, Grandpa. I wanted to braid her tail.” The little girl looked heartbroken, although her ribboned and bowed pony target perked up as if she was being released from a jail sentence.
“You can come back later,” assured Claire. She scribbled a phone number on a nearby piece of paper and handed it to the young girl. “You and Goose were very good, and since we’re going to be here for a few days, you can come back and braid her tail then.”
Karla stood next to Claire and watched the judge and his granddaughter go away, with one tiny wave thrown back over the girl’s shoulder before they went around the corner of the corridor. Then Claire looked back into the bathroom and giggled.
“Don’t take those ribbons out. They look adorable, and if you’re going to go visit the children’s ward like you promised, they’ll keep the kids from being spooked.”
- - - - ⧖ - - - -
Time: 5:40 P.M. Central Standard Time, June 19, 2015
Bruener Farm, Randolph Kansas
- - - - ⧖ - - - -
“Glad that’s over,” said Governor Brown as he thumbed the phone over to the other call. “Hello, who is this?” He listened for a moment, then hung up with a low grumble. “No, I don’t need to refinance my student loans, spammer!”
“At least you can use your phone.” Jon Bruener jabbed futilely at his iPhone, barely able to clear out one text message before another dozen flashed across the screen. “Damned Google. Everybody across the world sees my name on TV, Googles my seed company, and has my phone number to send me a text.”
Spike laughed with a remarkably human sounding snort at the end. “Glad I don’t have that problem. Only Princess Celestia and Twilight have the spell to send me—” He put both hands over his face, then belched mightily with a burst of green flame that spilled out over the dining room table and left several packages behind.
“Whoa,” said Jon, patting a scorched corner of the tablecloth. “Careful. My grandmother embroidered this.”
“Sorry.” Spike thumped his chest with one clenched fist to get the last burst of smoke out. “Ow. Well, at least Twilight sent me a snack along with the mail. Good thing, since I missed breakfast.” He picked up a bag full of sparkling rocks and popped one into his mouth with a deafening crunch.
“Pill bottles?” asked Governor Brown, poking cautiously at the collection of items on the table.
“Prescriptions, most likely,” said Spike as he unrolled a scroll and popped another rock in his mouth. “Registration papers, spell notes for the unicorns here to help out with the portal spell in three days. Ah, and a note.”
“Are those… gemstones?” asked Jon, reaching into the neck of the bag and running his fingers through several red and green stones that looked a little like… no, that was quite impossible.
“Rubies, emeralds, a few opals, some peridot, and citrines,” verified Spike, grabbing one chubby handful and popping them into his mouth with a noise like an industrial gravel grinder destroying a boulder. “Some of these are fresh, too. Rarity must have just dug them up today.”
“Uh… Yeah.” Governor Brown peeked over Spike’s shoulder at the long letter, written in the indecipherable Equestrian script. “So what does your Princess Twilight Sparkle say this time?”
“Not much.” Spike kept eating while reading down the page, but talked loud enough to be heard over the destruction. “A week’s worth of prescriptions for everypony with any health issues, just in case. Affirmations of Equestrian citizenship for the ponies stranded here. Uh, I’ll translate them for you later. Extra quills, ink, parchment, and a note for me. That’s nice. I was starting to feel a little ignored.”
The little dragon popped the last of the gems into his mouth and shook the empty bag to get the last fragments of gem dust out, then flattened the scroll down on the table. Jon took the empty bag as it was passed to him and tried to wrap his mind around just how many millions of dollars worth of precious stones it had held. Some of the rubies in the collection were as big as his thumb… or had been that large before being consumed.
“Dear Spike,” started the dragon. “Oh, good. She remembered my name. Anyway, I’ve sent a full week’s worth of prescriptions for all of the residents, along with forms of identification that I hope that world’s governmental authorities accept as official. Included are spare writing materials for you to return a note in case I’ve forgotten anything, and extra writing materials to request any more writing materials if you get low.”
Jon tried to keep a straight face. “I think your Twilight needs a good, long talk with my wife, the therapist.”
“She just drives them crazy,” said Spike. “Anyway, some more about writing, she’s going to try to keep the library sorted without me, Starlight Glimmer— Uh-oh.”
“What?” Jon and Governor Brown looked over the dragon’s shoulder, despite not being able to make heads or tails out of the letter he was reading.
“She’s a really powerful unicorn, and she tries hard to be good, but sometimes she gets a little… scary.” Spike took a deep breath and continued down the page. “I’m supposed to give the notes on the portals to the graduates of Celestia’s School for Gifted Unicorns who wound up here so they can work the problem from this end too, and use the Ponyville Emergency Fund to pay any expenses we run up until our return. Uh-oh.” Spike looked at the empty bag that had recently held gemstones, then turned it over to reveal a series of Equestrian symbols that seemed to say ‘Do not eat!’ if Jon squinted at them just right.
The governor patted the dragon on the shoulder. “The State of Kansas and Riley County will pick up most of the security and housing tab, since it’s only going to be three days. In all odds, the increase in tourism will make up the difference and then some.”
“Besides, I’ll chip in for any immediate expenses,” said Jon. “You landed here, after all. One of the phone calls I made was to my lawyer back in Leonardville and the bank. She’s setting up a lead trust for your town’s use if needed, and I moved some of my savings into it so the bank can issue a debit card. She should have it here this evening, pro bono.”
Governor Brown checked his own phone, which had been buzzing fairly frequently. “I’m not sure it will be needed. Every charity from the American Red Cross to the Lutheran Women’s Missionary League is lined up to help. The Shriners are even covering Widget and Granny Smith’s hospital bills. My aide says the hardest thing the Riley County Emergency Management staff is dealing with is people who think that we’re going to need a few semi-trucks full of hay and bottled water.”
“As long as it doesn’t get as bad as ‘93,” said Captain Samantha Reitz. “We must have thrown away a couple semi’s worth of the most amazing useless stuff after the flood. Anyway, Governor, I’m headed back into town, but the other shift commander will be along shortly, and we’ve borrowed a few deputies from surrounding counties for traffic control. We’re not having to tow as many people as I first thought to keep K-77 clear, but—” She paused, then continued a little slower. “I’ll have to show you the video the highway department shot. It’s really… different.”
- - Ω - -
The Riley County Highway Department pickup was covered in blinking yellow lights and signs like the pace car at a race, but regularly poked along fairly slow like today. The crew it carried could normally put in about four traffic control signs an hour, due to the time required to assemble the sign, dig the hole or hammer in the post, and make sure everything was all correct. Roberto was driving his truck down the edge of the road at a fair trot this afternoon, which was more than unusual because normally he never would have used ‘trot’ as a measure of speed. However, the chunky armored unicorn trotting along just to the side of the pickup was setting the pace, along with one of his companions sitting in the bed of the pickup and using his ‘magic’ to assemble signs. It was a fascinating sight to see Specialist Epsilon surrounded by glowing bolts, nuts, poles and the ‘No Parking - Tow Zone’ signs, spinning and tightening all the parts together until he would float the assembled sign over the edge of the pickup bed to Specialist Titan, who would—
There was another one of the strange ‘chunk’ noises and the bottom half of the steel signpole Titan had floated in front of him just vanished underground, leaving a perfectly straight ‘No Parking’ sign in his wake as he trotted forward to the next location.
- - Ω - -
“In any event,” continued Captain Reitz, “the MPs are set up, we’re arranging for shift changes, and we’ve got less of a traffic problem than anticipated, mostly because we’ve been pretty stringent about who we allow into town and the farm. After discussing things with the mayor, we’ve decided to house the children both here and in the Brueners’ old farmhouse next door, since keeping them together will allow us to move them to the return portal in one herd, so to say. Mister Bruener has been coordinating with Randolph to see about housing the rest of our temporary residents in something other than the Emergency Management cots starting to stack up at the Methodist church. How did that go, Jon?”
- - Ω - -
Jon really had expected to see just a few Winnebagos and travel trailers in the flat grassy field around back of his house. The field was really too small to rent out for grazing, since it had once been a horse paddock a decade ago until his father had gotten too old to deal with the horses and sold them. Then he passed away and Jon could not keep up with mowing the fenced area either. So he had pulled up the fence and hayed the sparse grass off it every summer while waiting for the compacted soil to spring back.
Years ago, his father had traveled the country with a Winnebago-Itasca Travelers group, and once had brought them over for a visit which filled the yard up with their expensive motorhomes, but Jon really had not expected to see quite so many of them parked in neat lines behind the house again. Thirty or forty was a good guess, under a set of shady clouds that the pegasi were anchoring above the motorhomes. Technically, almost all of them slept four comfortably, or six uncomfortably, so between them, dad’s old house, and his own home, they could probably temporarily house the whole collection of Ponyvillians, even if they would be a little cramped.
The only question he had was why there were so many motorhomes and fifth-wheel trailers in his back pasture next to the dirt utility road that ran up toward Randolph. Jon had called Pastor May and asked if he could bring his fairly small RV up because it had a toilet, although Jon could vaguely remember asking if he could spread the word among the RV crowd.
It had not seemed like too much of an imposition because the pastor only really used his fifth-wheel trailer for the Fourth of July church youth group fireworks stand, and Jon could see it next to his own worn Winnebago Rialta. Then there was Mister Foreman’s travel trailer next to it, and… actually, quite a few of the motorhomes looked familiar, and when Jon went over to the pasture where the owners were showing the temporary residents, it was like going to a church meeting.
Ponies and humans were crawling all over the vehicles because RV owners loved to show off their expensive toys, and the ponies were tickled pink—literally in some cases—to explore and prod the strange machines. About half of the RV owners wound up being from Jon’s church or social circle of some sort. A few quick questions around the gathering revealed the calling tree had caught fire and spread out to the point where Jon noticed Pastor May answering his phone every few minutes with a “No, I don’t think we need any more RVs, but leave a note in the church office in case we need to give you a call.”
To Jon’s intense amazement, the clouds being ‘parked’ over the RVs by the pegasi were also being shaped and moulded by energetic pegasi hooves into temporary housing. The sight of a winged pony climbing over a cloud and patting it into roof or a wall was stunning at first, worthy of a few minutes of video for Facebook, but after everything that had happened today, he was starting to feel more than a little stunned.
Still, not as stunned as some of the people in the town of Randolph.
- - Ω - -
Howard Baker was retired, which had a lot of ‘tired’ in it, and enough ‘re’ to repeat tired many times. Oh, there were still activities and such going on in his life, but today he had taken the peace and quiet of the empty house to catch up on his magazine reading and sand a few more pieces of the parquet table he was assembling out in the garage. The wife had been at Vacation Bible School at the Randolph Methodist church all day and had returned just a few minutes ago, talking a mile a minute about some sort of disaster that had dumped a bunch of ponies into the town with no place to keep them. She was a wonderful wife, but entirely too volunteering for Howard’s preferences, in particular the way she had volunteered their back yard to hold several of the lost ponies until they were picked back up.
He was just considering how large the truck accident had to have been to keep all of the ponies from being penned in some farmer’s pasture when the doorbell rang, and he got up from his recliner to answer it. After all, the wife was busy in the kitchen, and she would have needed to walk past him to get to the door anyway, which would have gotten him a sharp talking-to.
“I got it, hun,” he called out as he opened the door and looked out… at nothing.
“Mister Baker? Ohmygosh another human! Isn’t this great, Bonnie?” said a voice down below his line of sight.
There was a grinning horse… well, not really a horse, because a horse would not have been that shade of mint green, or nearly that short, and certainly would not have a mane with blue-green and white stripes flowing down its neck. And a horn. Really, the horn threw him most of all. With the horn, it looked like a unicorn, and nobody sober or sane saw unicorns standing at the front door in the middle of the day. Admittedly, he had gotten out a beer for lunch, but just one beer, and a domestic one at that.
The hornless pony standing next to the green one was a more normal golden-yellow, but with a totally impossible blue and pink mane that curled up in front. She was not grinning so intently as her companion, but rather looked around at her surroundings with a casual intentness. “Lyra,” she admonished in a high, squeaky voice. “They’re all humans around here.”
“But this one is a baker!” said ‘Lyra’ with an even larger grin that nearly could not fit on her face. “You two will get along great! Do you throw parties or are you more a bread baker or a candy maker like Bon Bon here or—”
“Lyra!” The cross-looking yellow pony stuck a hoof right into her companion’s mouth. “Manners.” Turning back to Howard, Bon Bon gave a small, respectful nod of her head and a polite smile. “Mister Baker, the human ladies at the Methodist church were looking for volunteers to house us while we’re waiting on Twilight to make a return portal. Your wife, I believe, said you have a spare bedroom.”
“Honey?” called out Howard. “It’s for you.”
A wise man knows when to punt. Experienced husbands are wise men.
This story is almost totally wholesome sillyness and I love it.
Considering the crap the FBI keeps getting from the buffoon currently in the White House, I'm not sure if I should be rooting for the governor and judge to stick it to that lady and/or Pumpernickel to make her soil herself or not.
9571480
Historically, the FBI deserves it's reputation. They're as political and volatile as every other government agency.
I think we need to see some weather control/disaster prevention
9571480
I don't know. I first thought Trump was a shady character when he first started running. But now after two years of investigation by Mueller and his team of Hillary supporters and donors who were desperate to find any reason to impeach him, but found nothing. My opinion of Trump has gone up.
As far as the FBI in the story. She seems to have a bad case of governmentiteis, the belief that only the government knows what people need and how to fix their problems.
Heh. Gates is trying so hard and going off half-cocked. Good thing other people are being more reasonable.
Spike is so Spike. It's just another Friday for him.
I would totally show mine off if I had one. And that would go double to showing it to a bunch of cute extra-terrestrial ponies.
9571479
I hadn't put it into those words but you are correct. Wholesome silliness. And it is so enjoyable.
9571530
More like 'the government should be seen handling this and handling it well, otherwise we'll be asked for decades why it was left up to state control when aliens landed on our soil'.
Oh dear, at least Lyra's having a good time.
9571558
10th Amendment?
Alternate chapter title: DAG-nabbit It
It's a fair ruling. State and national borders cannot enforcibly extend into more exotic spacial dimensions. International hyperspace starts a hair's thickness away.
Heh. I do like the idea of Twilight Therapistbane. That mare's neuroses have neuroses.
Oh, Spike. This is why you read the instructions before doing anything else with the contents of the box. At least Twilight didn't accidentally destabilize the economy.
And yeah, the continuing spread of ponies and people aware of them means that any attempt to sneak across the border is going to require at least three different miracles.
9571480
You do remember that Obama was still in office during this story's time frame, right? Is there something I'm missing here?
9571558
Actually, that is how disaster response is supposed to work. Speaking as a volunteer firefighter, the local emergency responders are the ones in charge, as they are the ones most familiar with the local resources. If an agency like FEMA has to come in, it is to give support, not take over.
It least according to my copy of the Ohio disaster response manual.
But then it does not have a section on extra dimensional aliens.
9571526
I second this. Immediately, my imagination started thinking about tornado alley and what several weather team members would do about it. Nice to see that pegasi can still work with clouds. In retrospect, should have known since they could fly and that would seem unlikely without magical assistance.
9571558
The FBI is not at all designed for Invasion Alien or otherwise, furthermore why wouldn’t you want local responders and National Guard to handle a situation? Them and FEMA are literally designed, organized, and paid to be the ones in charge of emergencies.
It's probably a good thing Starlight wasn't among the evacuees. Also, I was just wondering about Lyra and Bon-Bon, before hitting that last section!
9571480 9571524 9571530 The local/field FBI agents I've found to be universally competent, professional, and effective. I worked in an office building with an older gentleman agent here in Manhattan for a time. When the Oklahoma City bombing happened, Manhattan was crawling with agents (the homicidal moron came from this area), and found them also to be competent professionals every time we encountered them. The leadership at the top, however... don't get me started.
9571526 Hey, we like our weather in Kansas. It's frisky, and never boring. (except for long, hot summers)
9571552 The fastest way to get into an hour-long conversation with an RV owner is to ask, "Wow, this is neat. What kind is it?"
9571558 Typically, in Congressional Testimony where various government agencies have employees sacrificed at the altar of political expediency for the crime of not being able to see the future by a bunch of Congresscritters who are unable to see the past.
9571573 I don't think I've written very many characters who *don't* need therapy. Maybe Dry Roast, although he's willing to risk his life for the possibility of getting nookie from two smoking hot alicorns.... no, that's sane.
9571592 Quite true. The FBI can't *take* authority over an investigation or a crime in progress *unless* it falls directly into their authority, such as a kidnapping that goes across state lines. They have to be *requested* by the local law enforcement, or upon showing up at the scene, *allowed* to take control of the situation. Only in rare occasions will FBI agents be subordinate to local law enforcement, such as if they have a specialty unit in place without the rest of the support personnel, but even that can go pear-shaped in a hurry.
9571468
wait lyra? ohhhhh that's gonna go over real well is any of the m6 there too? I know of granny and applebloom , but I dunno I think itll be funny if dashie tries to race an f22 raptor
9571593
That's what got the filly? I was expecting something like a combine-harvester or something, but I am really farming illiterate. Her wounds just got a lot less gruesome in my mind.
Also, I was definitely referencing how a farmer could react with hostility to a trespasser, but there's also a scene in Infinity War where Benedryl Crinklespank says to Thanos, "You're trespassing in this city and on this planet."
I wonder how long until Twilight realises her mistake and sends another bag of gems. Really, putting the notice on the bottom of the bag was an error on her part that she should have seen coming.
9571624
I don’t think anyone blames the ground level or field agents of the FBI for its reputation. The top brass of the agency has been marred by controversy since its creation.
9571573
You mention economic destabilization, guess it's actually lucky Spike ate the Ponyville emergency fund now?
9571585 Nope, you got this. Candidate Trump declared about two weeks ago, so you're right.
9571622 I actually thought about substituting Grace for Starlight, since they are cut from the same cloth, only Grace is underpowered and Starlight is overpowered (and having her explain just *why* she had been a criminal to the human police would have been a hoot)
9571604 Thankfully, we don't have a government agency for extraterrestial invasions (other than XCOM). The FBI is for *criminal* and counter-espionage operations, the National Guard are weekend warriors (and formerly active duty military, so don't downplay them too much), and FEMA is a *support* organization for local first-responders. In the event of a hurricane/tornado/asteroid strike, they won't be at the site for three days, minimum, but they are outside the area, organizing supplies going in and coordinating with the locals. (It chafed my hide to see the flack FEMA got for Hurricane Katrina when the *local* disaster preparedness had proven to be so unprepared)
I'm not a soldier, but I find the common perception of the military as a bunch of gun toting, testosterone ridden maniacs pretty distasteful.
Soldiers are people, like you and me, and in their training are taught strict discipline so that they don't start shooting or panicking in stress situation like many others would do.
Also the army, contrary to common belief, have professionals capable of handling diplomacy, counseling and other types of non violent interaction.
9571684 Ahem. Unreliable Narrator trope. Also Ironic because the incompletely briefed agent she sent to the room nearly did just that. By the way, updates may flickers a bit on April 25, because I'll be at Ft. Jackson South Carolina where my son is graduating from Army basic training.
9571660
FBI Detains 200 Ponies and One Dragon for Inter-Dimensional Wire Fraud and Attempting to Sell State Secrets to China
Derpy: I just don’t know what went wrong!
9571684
Is that a thing? I thought that was how people viewed the US police, not the soldiers
9571684
Deputy Gates finally arrived at the farm where the aliens first appeared, only to see her fears confirmed. A group of soldiers arguing with a group of ponies. Getting out of the car she quickly approached "FBI, break it up"
Both the solders and ponies looked at her confuse. One of the ponies spoke up " break what up? "
One of the solders held up a football " we are just working out the rules, we haven't even started yet"
It's so refreshing to for once read a story where people are generally sane and professional and the few people who are paranoid and possessing over-inflated egos about their own importance are consistently thwarted.
While technically correct once moved outside of Kansas the restraining order doesn't apply. There is still the idea of kidnapping and if not violating the letter of law there is violating the spirit
9571524
And also the whole COINTELPRO thing, which still exists under different names. Don't trust these people with aliens.
I love the way you write Spike.
9571530
The Muller report is going to be devastating for Trump. It'll leave a skid mark on America that rivals the skid mark in my undies right now!
9571684
The gun toting maniac only makes up half of recruits. The other half is people who make excuses for joining based on personal need, rationalizing that it's okay to invade foreign countries and help kill many hundreds of thousands of innocents, just so long as you're doing it to get a scholarship through the GI bill. That latter half pretends to be "progressives".
9571825
I think you are half right.
Amazing ending line!
Really, this whole thing is great. There’s a very lived-in feeling with the characters and their environs. It’s also very, very conspicuously Midwestern, which is a rarity in Ponyfic, and quite enjoyable to see.
I look forward to seeing what the Russians and FBI ultimately try to get up to, as I can’t imagine they’ll take any of this lying down. But I like it that most people for the most part are responding to this as an accident and are trying to respond accordingly.
... Should we tell her? Who's going to tell her? I'm going to tell her.
Aaaand the lady in charge of FBI here just made the Bureau go from 'we had an impossible situation and bureacratic muckup meant we made an itty-bitty hasty decision' to 'we don't care about anyone's well being, we just want to be in absolute control.'
Wouldn't forcibly dragging the ponies across state borders and then declaring them to be breaking the law be in and of itself a violation of the law?
Yeah, the FBI can just floof right the hay off.
I hate Deputy Gates right now.
Also, to avoid ranting, the only thing I'm going to say about the person who is unfortunately in charge of this country right now is that I think he's childish and incompetent and has done nothing to disprove my opinion of him. I wouldn't bring this up, but someone else mentioned that person I dislike to an unhealthy degree and I felt a need to comment. I apologize.
Throwing poor Goose into the
shark tankChildren's ward, eh?9571624
Everyone finds RVs neat-o! I bet this might spark some pony inventiveness to turn humble covered carts, like Trixie's, into true recreational vehicles. Speaking of Trixie, if she was portaled over, we'd have known about it by now-- she's as subtle as a tornado. I'm also guessing none of the Main 6 were dumped here either as all the ponies would be shoving them up front to deal with the human leaders. This is a good thing as it allows secondarys, backgrounds and OCs to get their fifteen minutes of fame in the story and prove that everyday ponies are not hopeless in a crisis.
Hopefully when we get a chapter about the kids (pony and/or human), it won't utterly kill every reader with lethal amounts of Dawwwabities.
9569790 WAAAAAZZZZUUUUUUP!!!!
9570098 Steps toward you...
Oh, the irony of this statement.
This is adorable, and exceptionally human.
9571624
Still waiting on that sequel. Celestia will step into the ring!
In your own due time, of course.
The giant space-horse was not available for this conversation.
Mild bit of karma there.
Oops. Likely not really a problem, though. The exchange rate on gems is going to be very favorable if any are left.
He's doomed.
9571877
It is a really fun story.
I feel like the Russians will be a day late and a dollar short in getting Alien contact, unless Putin uses the big red phone and specifically asks.
P: So, alien ponies?
O: Very colorful ones, yes. An adolescent dragon as well, if I'm reading this right. Didn't meet him
P: You are being serious?
O: Vladimir, have I ever lied to you?
P: Yes, what is your point?
O: I mean regarding epochal events in history.
P: Only if your Nobel Prize counts.
O: They left a way to get in contact. We'll share.
9571695
Congrats to your son!
9571638 No, putting the warning on the *inside* of the bag at the bottom would have been a bad idea
9571655 A few million bucks worth of gems has no chance of destabilizing the market. It would take tons and tons.
9571635 A swather is one of those cutting bars with a beater reel and a couple of augers. Thankfully, she didn't go all the way through into the windrow. Double-thankful he was not harvesting alfalfa, in which the swather would have a 'crimper' which is two big rubber rollers that squash the alfalfa stalks so they'll dry better. Pony-pancakes.
9571643 Look, just because J. Edger wore a skirt... We're advanced in this modern era. (Of course there was his tendency to spy on political enemies, I suppose...)
9571738 Just wait.
9571883 If they *forced* them out of the state, yes. If they left a trail of alfalfa crunchies with a propped-up cardboard box at the end....
9571898 Wait for it.... (and there's video)
9571978 If I can get to the end, Giant Space-Horse will show up.
9572018 Look, I plan on the Equestrians leaving a whole *roll* of stamps so the humans can write whenever they want.
9572110 He's epic, that's for sure. I claim heredity.
Oh dear. If Maud is there, would it be possible to get her and Specialist Titan to have a Tank Toss Off?
As for Specialist Epsilon. I hope he brought his cape. Or even ein owld gown.
Power players work like, do it now no matte the law, and after is Your fault?
If any of the pones somehow manage to end up outside Kansas, can we use the fact that given theyre interdimentional, the Belgrano Inclusion Zone is in effect?
Ponyville is a nice place to visit, as long as its not on the regular scheduled existantial extinction event Tuesday? Unless you bring extra towels?
9571530
9571825
Guys, we'll find out substantially what's in it tomorrow. No need to speak authoritatively about what is or isn't in it today (except that ignoring the dozen indictments and convictions and saying that's nothing? No. We know at least that much was found.) We can't really put an upper bound on it since Mueller didn't have authority to impeach, and DoJ policy was that he didn't have authority to indict either, so lack of such actions means nothing. But that doesn't mean it WAS found either. We'll see, and blustering and fouling up this thread just seems pointless, especially so close to the release date.
Snrk. Freaking Spike ate the emergency fund. Actually, come to think of it, he probably did the humans a favor. Those gems would have OBLITERATED the economy.
9572478
Interesting. Asking us to stop while poking.
I am not ignoring the current indictments and convictions. They are not nothing, they just have nothing to do with collusion.
You are right Mueller can't impeach, I never said he could. They were looking for a crime to present to Congress who does do the impeachment proceedings.
We do have Barr's summary. He said there was no evidence of collusion or obstruction. If that was a lie Mueller, the 16 lawyers, the 30+Agents, or any other people who worked the investigation has had plenty of time to come forward and say otherwise.
But yeah, let's stop talking politics here.
Really I am done.