//------------------------------// // Part 2, Chapter 14: The Second Outpost // Story: The Portgate // by Archival //------------------------------// "You know...when I walked through that portal to another world...the first thing I noticed was how clean it was, how beautiful and unperverted that clearing was, how nature had blessed it with such beauty and liveliness... The second thing I saw was the rotting carcass of a gargantuan beast." -Ethan Fawkner, Memoirs of the Other Side Two hours had passed. Security had swapped out personnel, trading tired eyes and exhausted visages for coffee-invigorated guards. Another two hours, and the last pieces of weaponry were fished out from the back of the armory. Why there was a mounted grenade launcher in there, nobody knew. Yet another two hours, and a few daring scientists tiptoed up to the portal, their instruments pointed at the other side. Two more hours. The scientists wouldn't back off, even at the pleading of the Kevlar-plated guards. It was comical, the white-coated men and women still probing the enormous ellipse even while tall men with guns were pulling them back away from the alien meadow. Then, two hours later, the PA came on. An announcement was made, and the scientists made way for the engineers, who hesitantly walked up towards the portal. Blades of grass gently swayed in the early morning sun, some of them leaning just over the edge between the two worlds. They looked at each other, collectively taking a deep breath as they prepared themselves, and stepped over the barrier onto a whole new planet, crates in tow... -Andrew- They had run tests on him, questioned him, and he was still stuck in the stupid room. After they had brought the three wounded aliens (and the two not so wounded ones) across, Andrew and his two friends were taken to the infirmary. The doctors insisted that he submit to all of their tests, but he countered by saying he was fine - he had been there for weeks, he didn't need to get a complete checkup done - and they let him off on the condition that he come back later. They still did some basic evaluations, though, and three hours passed before he was once again carted off to clean himself up. He was given a fresh set of clothes from his room after he showered and shaved, and it was nice to get into something other than his old uniform. Then they took him to be questioned. Questioning was a bit too hostile of a term. The room was actually a spare storage space somewhere in the back of the Offices area, furnished with a folding table and six padded folding chairs. They had even brought a sandwich and some much-appreciated coffee from the cafeteria, which Andrew gladly accepted. And he didn't mind talking to the camera and the two interviewers about what had happened on the other side; it was relaxing, unloading the events of the past two weeks and answering any questions that came up. But now? They had told him to wait as they walked out of the room, the camera still on its tripod. Thirty minutes later, and he was still waiting there, growing more and more impatient with each passing moment. The door handle suddenly twisted counter-clockwide, and the door swung open with a squeak. A man in a suit and tie took a step into the room and motioned for him to follow. "Where are we going?" Andrew asked as he stood up from the table. "We're bringing you to the other two survivors. You'll be doing a group interview for the next couple of hours. Come," the man beckoned. The two stepped out of the dull, claustrophobic closet and weaved through the cubicles. The clickety-clack of keyboards was punctuated by the occasional thunk of a mug or the high-pitched whine of a printer, and a couple of quiet conversations were audible somewhere in the huge room. They stepped out of the section after a minute of walking, then took a right turn into the West Wing. The familiar white paint on the walls gave Andrew some measure of happiness and familiarity, but that didn't lift his spirits very much as they strolled down the corridor. He felt that he should have been crying with joy when he was rescued, but in all honesty he was feeling a bit...deflated. Those two weeks were the most exciting, most interesting of his life, but now... They stopped in front of an elevator, the man pressing the up button as he turned towards the aluminum doors. The immediately recognizable ding signaled the opening of the sliding doors, and they stepped inside. An awkward silence and five minutes of walking later, and they were at Administrations. Andrew was led down a series of wide hallways, past framed pictures of the many accomplishments the site had made over the years. The man paused in front of the door between the two photos of a half-finished skeleton of the Portgate three years ago and a gigantic prototype fusion reactor, then waved Andrew towards it. "This is your stop. Wait here for now," he said as he walked off. With a push, Andrew found himself in a spacious, well-furnished waiting room about twenty by twenty feet. The walls were covered with paintings and flat-screen TVs, and a water fountain was conveniently placed in the corner of the room. Couches and sofas were neatly arranged around a gigantic coffee table, its surface covered with magazines and a large platter of sandwiches, cookies, and sodas. A pair of remotes were supposed to be on the table, but only one was visible - the other was buried under the woman lying on the loveseat, a bag of potato chips in one of her hands and a half-eaten BLT in the other. "Hey, guys!" "Oh, hey Andrew! What did they do to you?" "Ugh, the doctors were insisting on making me take all these tests. Then I got to shower, and then they asked me questions for a really long time." "Same. That is for me, and Noah. And now you," she said through a bite of bread and meat. "Yeah. Man, I'm still hungry. Will you pass me a Coke? Haven't had one in...well, a while." "Sure, dude! Not like we're short of those," she muttered as she tossed the can towards him. Andrew caught it with both hands, then let the door close behind him as he had a seat in the other sofa. The man in the couch next to him snored as he lay facedown on the armrest. "What are we watching?" "Oh, it's 'Space and Six-Shooters'! I hope you don't mind," Leah said as she wiggled deeper into the cushions. "Nah," Andrew sighed. "I'm fine with some cartoons, even after living in one." "Heh." "Yep," he grunted as he leaned forward. Andrew grabbed three chocolate chip cookies and two ham sandwiches, then sat back and unwrapped the first sandwich. After what he had just experienced, lounging around and watching cartoons while eating food was a great way to unwind. He propped his feet up on the table, sliding Science and Bloomberg Businessweek off to the side with his rubber boot soles as he immersed himself in the sci-fi world of aliens and adventure with Leah. Sandwich in hand, he tore a bite out of the meaty treat. It was delicious. -Twilight- Not like this... Twilight rolled onto her side, the itchy cotton rollmat no more comfortable than before. She felt drained, unmotivated, lethargic...down in the dumps, as Pinkie would have said. The pony smiled at the thought of her bouncy, overexcited friend back at Ponyville; it had been quite a while since they had seen each other, even if they had been apart for only a few days. "Now that I've thought about it," she murmured, "I really miss Ponyville. Even if it was for...for..." Five days? Maybe four, but it felt more like five. She couldn't quite remember, which was weird for such a methodical pony like her. She unexcitedly stared at the nice old stallion medic who had switched out her bandages and taken care of her for the past few hours. He was packing up his medicine bag, meticulously sliding each item into its specific pouch with a sense of pride in his smooth, fluid movements. The clattering of metal and wood outside reminded her of a thought she had, and she rolled over onto her back to ask it. "So...when are we leaving?" "Tomorrow at dawn," he grunted as he shoved a roll of gauze into the bag. "Will I be fine?" "Yes, you just have a few scratches here and there. If you're not feeling well enough, I can assist you, Princess." "I'm good," she replied. Twilight frowned, a shadow passing through her thoughts. "What happens next?" "Well, once we reach Ponyville I assume that you'll be free to go. The rest of us are heading back to Canterlot." With a groan, Twilight pushed herself off the ground and stood up on her hooves. Her right wing still hurt a little every time she bumped into something, but other than that she was feeling great. At least, as great as she could feel at the moment. The bright midday sun blinded the lavender alicorn as she stepped outside of the dim tent, and her left wing instinctively moved to cover her eyes. It had been barely half a day since Luna had taken her away from the creatures' shelter, and she was still recovering from the...loss? Joy? Her head muddled and confused, she walked towards the Princess's tent, taking stock of her situation as she weaved through the mass of ponies preparing to disembark back to civilization. Good news first, she thought to herself. She was headed back to Ponyville, back to her castle, back to Spike... Twilight sighed as she dodged an earth pony carrying a large wooden box on their back. The good news didn't quite outweigh the bad news, as happy as it should have been. When Luna had pulled her out of that bed last night, Twilight left behind her opportunity to study those creatures and their...everything! Their culture, their technology, their society...all out of her reach, as far as she knew. Rainbow Dash and Applejack didn't even come with her. Were they alright? Would the aliens let them leave? Did they even plan on it, even when Twilight was still there? It was too much for even Twilight to bear, the thoughts that were flooding her clouded mind. She almost ran into the canvas wall of the large, dark-blue tent in front of her, the pearly-white crescent moon large and imposing. The purple pony took a second to compose herself, then walked through the entrance into the enormous tent. The first thing she noticed was the enormous table in the middle of the tent, its surface nearly completely barren save for a box of cartography tools and a large map. Twilight paused, unwilling to interrupt the conversation that was taking place. "...well. Well, well, well. We're heading back regardless; we didn't bring enough to stay any longer." "But the pegasi-" "Are quite capable, I'm sure, of that task. But we're already keeping constant surveillance on it, and we can't take them from keeping watch." "...yes, that's true. But still, we can't just-" "Did you see the hydra?" "Excuse me?" "Or rather, what was left of it. We shouldn't have ignored it, Captain. I don't want to recklessly bring my ponies into battle with a force that can rip apart greater beasts, and neither do you. That was a mistake." "But...but..." "Look. Do you want to have that happen to these guardsponies? Or would you rather face them with unicorn mages, a steady supply line, and siege weaponry?" "Siege weaponry?..." "Yes, I'm afraid. If we present our full military might to these...beings, maybe they'll think twice about starting any conflict. And from the looks of it, they're here to stay." "Very well, then. I...suppose that's it from me." "Thank you, Captain, for coming up to me with your concerns." The light-brown unicorn nobly strided out of the tent, his composure sharp and dignified as he walked past Twilight. She moved in closer to the table, the flaps closing behind her as Luna smiled at her fellow princess. "Good afternoon, Twilight." "What was that about, Princess Luna?" she asked. Luna sighed, her smile changing from polite to amused. "Oh, don't call me that, Twilight! You're a princess now, you can just call me Luna. Everyone else is," she calmly stated as she pulled out a small flask from under the table. "Would you like some water? You must be thirsty." "No thanks. At least, not until you explain what you were talking about." Luna set the wooden bottle on the table with a clunk, then leaned back on the cushion she was sitting on. "Don't concern yourself with these-" "You just said I'm a princess!" Twilight protested. "I have the right to know what's going on, and why you want to bring cannons to the doorstep of those harmless creatures!" "Harmless?! I...no, you're right. You'll need to learn to become a ruler sooner or later, might as well be sooner." "How about you start with what you're going to do to them!" "Twilight," Luna sighed, "they're not harmless." "But they saved me and-" "Well, they did. They also gravely wounded three of my ponies in the span of that many seconds." "They...they did what?" "Almost had me, too. They wore my shields down to next to nothing. I would have been just as hurt had it not been for luck!" "I...but...why...didn't you save them?" "The aliens were too dangerous. My ponies were willing to give up their lives to protect Equestria. You were our top priority. Understand?" Twilight realized she was scowling at Luna. Ashamed, she backed off and composed herself. "I...I understand." "I'm glad you do, Twi. I really am. I know it seems a bit too excessive, but they're just too much of a potential threat. Even if they don't mean any harm, we have to be prepared in case they do. Now, shouldn't you be resting?" "My wounds aren't serious. They're just scratches." Luna slid the bottle across the table towards Twilight, who caught it with her hoof. "You should drink some water." Twilight twisted the bottle top off, then raised it to her lips. The water was clear and delicious, which was the opposite of how she was feeling. "Thanks, Luna," she said as she set the now empty bottle back down on the table. "No problem. Have a good day, Twilight." Twilight glumly walked outside, her head as low as her spirits. She had tried to convince Luna that the creatures were innocent, but she wouldn't listen to it. The alicorn cursed herself for not being able to sway her opinion. If only she had been better at debate and rhetoric, she lamented... Luna watched Twilight leave the tent, gloomily pondering her actions and their consequences. She had been aggressive, overly forceful, and above all else...arrogant that night. Her mistakes weighed heavily on her conscience, each failure a leaden burden she carried with her. Twilight thankfully didn't ask about any of them, but she would soon - and Luna didn't know if she could find an excuse by then. She was too occupied with the other issue at hoof... She made sure that the purple pony was gone before levitating a piece of papyrus and a quill and ink from her saddlebags. The clink of glass on wood and the rustling of paper was followed by the scritching of the feather, rapidly jotting down Luna's thoughts. Tia, I have not contacted you since we departed from Ponyville. My apologies; we have been busy lately. I do not know how to say this, so I'll be direct: I'm ordering the mobilization of the Royal Guard. What I've seen is enough to convince me, and I know it will convince you as well. We'll iron the details out when I reach Canterlot, and I know this seems sudden and dramatic, but let me explain: The creatures that I have told you about were the ones who took Twilight and her friends. We entered their shelter, but they attacked us and have injured three of my Night Guard. Their weapons are much more lethal than you would think, sister; in the short span of a few seconds, one of them managed to not only take down three of Equestria's finest soldiers but also nearly took down my primary defense shielding. Like I have said, they are a force to be reckoned with. But that is in the past; what I have just discovered is much more important. Not two hours ago, a scout team submitted an unsettling report... Luna looked over at the sheafs of paper to her left. Above the detailed descriptions on the report sat sketches of boxes, strange equipment, and a semicircle, embedded in the ground... ...and it is clear that the Everfree is being occupied.