//------------------------------// // Part 2, Chapter 16: Logistics // Story: The Portgate // by Archival //------------------------------// "When people think of portals, they think of sci-fi portals. Now, I’m not one to slag off on those portrayals. They’re actually not that far off from the real deal, what with the swirly border around a view of another place. But they always seem to line up just perfectly with the ground, don’t you think? They’re always easily traversable, both sides being only a few inches at most off the ground. Well, with the Portgate, both sides were actually embedded in the ground, almost ten feet below the floor Earth-side. There was still plenty of headspace, of course - the Portgate is still thirty feet wide. Another interesting thing is that the ground on our side of the portal was also about ten inches above the other side. I saw a couple of trips and falls, I can tell you that, at least until they put a ramp up. Now - and here’s the real chilling part - what if their side opened up five thousand miles below the surface? In the core of the planet? That right there’s a real mess right there, I tell ya.” -Erik Mason, Organic Chemist -Luna- The Night Guard had already ruffled some feathers a few days ago while picking up supplies. Providing for a hundred ponies for about a week at most was already a challenging task; four thousand ponies plus heavy siege weaponry and semi-permanent encampment? A royal pain, that’s what that was. Luna slid the check across the counter, her seal a crimson red against the off-white paper. She would have left this duty to the provisions officer, but the unicorn was busy buying medicine at the apothecary. There was a lot to do, and not a lot of time to do it; and when it came down to the nitty gritty of things, a hungry army was a useless army. Food was the priority. “I’m really sorry once again, Princess Luna, that we don’t have enough right now. The amount of food you’re requesting...it was just a bit unexpected, is all! We’ll have to send a letter to the grainhouse, and that’s going to take three days...you said that’s when you’ll need it?” “Yes, but it won’t be an issue. Thank you very much for your help, Crate Tack. You’ve done a splendid service to me and my troops.” “Oh, don't mention it, Princess! I'm just sorry we couldn't help you any more than we have." "No no, it's all right," Luna reaffirmed. "Thank you once again!" she shouted as she stepped through the doorway of Produce Patch's Perishables. The large town of ten thousand ponies was just as important as her four thousand troops, but this was an important deployment; the townsponies could do with a few shortages here or there. Soon enough, the other towns and cities would fill in the gaps left by her soldiers, and things would work out. Luna looked down at her list. She was almost done with requisitions; here were only a few more stops to go. There was only one last place she had to go, and that was... Sweet Apple Acres. Maybe she didn't have to go? Maybe they didn't need apples. Apples weren't as good of a food as oats were. Not so easy to carry. Yes, she wouldn't have to go to Sweet Apple Acres and talk to the Apple Family. No, that wouldn't turn out well. Especially since...since... The lead cannonball in Luna's stomach sunk deeper. She had no excuses for skipping Sweet Apple Acres. They needed the food, be it oats, apples, or hay. And apples would definitely help with morale. It would be good to put some variety in their diet, something that Luna knew from centuries past would always cheer a pony up. Her soldiers would definitely appreciate some fresh fruits to go with their meals, as a respite from the constant stress of the foreign encroachment on their soil. Simply put, she had no way of snaking around that fact. She would have to talk to Applejack's family, reassure them that Applejack was safe. and hopefully get some food from them. They would be distraught, devastated by the loss of a family member. They would plead with Luna to bring Applejack back safely. They would beg her to save their family member, make a promise that she might not even be able to keep, then wail and shriek when the bad news came... Luna stopped herself short. Applejack was tough, she would be fine. There would be no crying, no tears shed on that day; only smiles, and laughs, and joyful reunions. Luna was sure of it. The gate to the Apple family farm was covered in vines, a crude yet homely sign of an apple hanging from the top by two metal chains. Luna took a deep breath, inhaling the refreshing yet somewhat musky country air. It smelled of hard work and determination, the kind that went back generations and generations. Acres and acres of apples surrounded her, as the farm's name had advertised. And Luna didn't doubt that they were delicious apples, either. She stepped through the entrance, the dirt and mud sliding off her magical silver slippers as they left their imprint on the ground. The house itself was rather large, a two-story edifice with bright red walls and several large windows. Looking more closely at the surrounding farmland, Luna realized that there were more than just apples being grown on the farm. Corn, carrots, potatoes, and even grapes grew in neat little rows, It shouldn't have come as a surprise to Luna that the Apple family didn't just grow one crop - that would have been a disaster in times of, well, disaster - but she did have her preconceptions of their farm. "Hiya, Princess Luna!" Luna turned around as the yellow filly galloped up to her, her saddlebags bouncing up and down as she ran. "Gosh, you haven't been up here before, have you?" "No, my filly, I have not. Where is your brother?" she politely asked. Applebloom was too young to talk business, but Luna definitely didn't want to talk about Applejack with her around either. That wouldn't go down very well, she thought to herself. "Oh, he's out in the fields. He usually shows up right about when I get home to take a break, so I'd just wait around here for him. There he is!" "Howdy, Applebloom. And howdy to you too, Princess," a baritone voice sounded out from behind her. Big Macintosh had come through the barn, a towel around his thick neck. "Hello, Big Macintosh. I'm here to request supplies for the garrison," she said. "I saw them soldiers in Ponyville! They were so cool, with their uniforms and armor..." "Why don'tcha go play with your friends, Applebloom. This is grown up talk," Macintosh stated as he walked up to the porch, the Princess following him to the door. "Aww, but I'm a big girl!" "Not big enough for what we're fixing to discuss. Be a good girl, please, for Big Mac." "Fine," the filly lamented as she stomped off to the treehouse where her friends usually met. "I guess I could use some help with that math homework, too..." Macintosh made sure the young filly was gone before pulling the front door open and beckoning Luna inside. She wiped her slippers on the doormat before stepping into the living room of their home. Various portraits of family members (some here, mostly gone) lined the walls and mantle, surrounding the ancient couches and old oaken furniture with their many gazes. The shelves that lined the walls were surprisingly loaded with books for a farming family, but a glance at the titles cleared up any confusion. Times really have changed, Luna contemplated. "The Farmer's Handbook," "Pony Agriculture Techniques," "An Almanac of Agriculture"... "Big Mac? Is that you? And who's with you? Sure sounds like a big fella!..." "It's Princess Luna!" "An alicorn, in my foyer? You better not be pulling my leg, Macintosh...darn kids these days and their pranks..." The thin, knobby hooves of Granny Smith were the first thing that Luna saw of the old green pony as they made their way down the creaky stairs. Macintosh waved at the Princess to have a seat, and Luna sat her too-large frame on a nearby sofa as the ancient mare walked into the room. "Good golly gee, is this who I think it is? Should I get my glasses out?" "That will not be necessary," said Luna. "Shucks, that really is the princess, huh? Golly gee, what's the occasion?" "Granny, they need supplies. How much do you need, Princess?" "We're hoping you can supply about forty bushels of apples per week. Of course, we'll be paying you for the food - fifty bits per bushel, in fact." "Fifty bits? That's a mighty lot." "Indeed. I don't want to be too stingy, after, uh..." "Yep..." "I'm sorry for bringing that up. I understand that this-" "We know." "...in any case, we're willing to negotiate-" "It's just..." "Hm?" "I don't get it." "Excuse me?" "I mean," Big Macintosh continued, "y'all send a couple of your Guard in to look for Applejack, but you don't come back with anything. And now ya come back with a whole buncha ponies. An entire army! Something ain't right." "Well, um, that..." The question caught Luna off guard. How had she not realized? She hadn't given an official response as to what the Royal Guard was doing in the Everfree, and ponies would eventually get curious. They couldn't know of what was really happening - how would they react? And if one of her Night Guard let slip their tongue? "Oh, don't worry. We'll take you up on your offer." "Huh?" "You heard the young gentlecolt! We can help ya out." "It's fine, Princess. As long as it helps you find Applejack, we'll be glad to support you." "Wait, really?" "Yes," Macintosh replied. "We believe in you. Applejack knows how to keep herself out of trouble. I know she'll be okay." "Oh! Well, um..." "Hey," he interrupted. "Luna, we know you'll bring Applejack back to us. We just do. So stop your worrying, please. It wouldn't do for a Princess to lack anything she needs, after all." "I...thank you." Luna sighed, glad that she had just avoided catastrophe. "Don't mention it. Now, we were about to discuss the deal?" "Yes, well, as I was saying, we would be glad to repay you for your apples - a fair amount more than market price, if I'm correct." "So that's it? Forty bushels a week, for fifty bits each?" "Yes." "Well, that's a mighty fine deal we got going. We'll accept," Big Macintosh said assertively. "Thank you," replied Luna as she pulled out a sheaf of papers from her saddlebags. "Here's everything you'll need to know. I must keep this conversation short; there's much to do as of now. If you have any questions, ask an officer. Thank you, again, for your generosity." "Our pleasure," he said as the Princess stood up and picked up her bags. She walked up to the front door, pushing it open with her hoof, then looked back one last time before stepping outside With a sigh, she pulled her clipboard out from her bags. Her last stop had gone swimmingly well, and the supply hunt was complete. Luna looked up at her sister's sun, glowing radiantly with the brilliance of a thousand candles. Did the aliens have a Sun? -Leah- With a click, the red light next to her door turned green as Leah waved her ID card over it. She gently shoved the door open, her hands patting the inside wall as she searched for the light switch. They found purchase on a tiny little knob, and Leah flicked it on. Her room was suddenly illuminated with a warm, slightly yellow light, the incandescent lightbulb making a near-indistinguishable buzz amongst the constant low drone that echoed throughout the entire facility. The first thing she realized was that nothing was where it was supposed to be. Or rather, everything was where it should have been. The once dirty floor was now barren, devoid of laundry or stationary. Her bed was neatly made, and her desk was tidily organized and straightened out. Leah stood catatonically in the doorway for a second, utter shock overriding her thoughts, before rushing to the closet door and throwing it open. All of her clothes were cleanly folded and organized into the shelves, from her shirts to her socks. Defeated, she slumped down to the ground, her head in her hands. Someone had come into her room. Someone had come into her room, rooted through her stuff, and organized it neatly. Her perfect system of organization was gone, rearranged and redone without a word from Leah. At least they hadn't found anything incriminating or embarrassing. That stuff was all on her laptop, thankfully. She weakly pulled herself up to her feet, using the doorknob as support, before staring around her room. Everything was different - how was she supposed to know where all her stuff was? Leah thought pensively for a moment, pondering her next move. If she didn't know where the things she needed were... ...she'd just bring all of them! With a newfound smile on her face, she happily skipped over to the box truck just outside her door and pulled it in. Leah grabbed a folded cardboard box off of it, pressing the edges together to pop it into the third dimension before creasing the bottom flaps together, taping them shut and setting it on the ground. She reached into her closet, grabbed a pile of clothes, and threw it haphazardly into the box. Her clothes only took up a single small cardboard box, but her other things...would take some time. Why did they have her move over to the other side, Leah pondered almost a day later, when it was just a five minute walk? The airlock hissed open, and Leah stepped into the Portgate site, her cart in hand. Things were certainly different from the last time she had properly been onsite. Although the concrete floor surrounding the Portgate was as busy as ever, the usual blue uniforms of the technicians was replaced by the safety-orange of construction workers, mingled in with the tan camouflage of military personnel and the white lab coats of scientists. All of the four entry ramps were operating at full swing, each one bustling with activity as supplies were brought to the other side. Two ramps were marked as designated for vehicles, and the occasional truck or armored vehicle slowly drove through the wormhole or out of it and back to Earth's surface. She swung her trolley around and pushed it towards the portal. A series of yellow duct-tape lines marked out several traffic lanes of various width, each one labeled with their designated traffic. Leah stepped up to the one marked "PERSONNEL WITH CARGO" and began following the snaky line, slowly getting closer and closer to the Portgate until she stepped through the portal and onto the ramp, the fresh yet foreign air flowing through her hair. Things had changed on the other side as well. In just two days after the Portgate had opened once more, there was already a huge camp nearly two hundred meters in diameter radiating outward from the portal. Most of the buildings were long, roomy tents, but Leah saw a few prefabricated walls being erected as well amongst the canvas and plastic tarps. Just like the other side, people bumbled about the wide pathways between the tents, a sense of purpose strongly present throughout the commotion. Lost, Leah looked around for her tent. She couldn't figure out which one of the fifty or so tents was supposed to be her new home, especially since they were practically identical. The calls of birds and the dying chirps of grasshoppers was drowned out by the constant sound of human activity, and the morning sun's glare made her squint as she turned her head left and right. "Need some help, ma'am?" Leah turned towards the big, burly man who asked the question. He scratched his beard, a dirty blonde shag that almost matched his off-duty military fatigues in color. "Um, yeah, do you know where the living spaces are?" "Oh," he chuckled deeply, "they'll be over there." He pointed towards the outskirts of the camp, where the tents were a bit more spaced out. "You wanna come with? I was just headed there." "Sure, why not?" Leah kicked the back of her trolley and pushed it along as she followed the man away from the Portgate. They weaved through the tents, the pathways between them clear of the meadow grass that had been there only hours ago. Far away, the sound of hammers and drills rang out through the camp, loud enough to rival the conversations being held around Leah as she followed the man to her destination. Crates and boxes were piled along the sides of the paths, and the occasional folding table and chairs would be set outside a tent's entrance. "Here we are," he sighed as they took a right turn. "The tents on the left are all living quarters. Don't know why they have them here, since Earth is a short walk away. Later." As the man walked away, Leah headed towards the tent at the end of the path. She pulled a thrice-folded piece of paper out of her jean pocket and looked at it. "Tent #47, Living Quarters #3" was her destination. Leah looked to her left. "#45, LQ #1" was printed on a laminated piece of printer paper and taped onto the side of a tent, along with a clipboard and a list of names below it. She passed the next tent in the row, stopping just outside the one following that. Her new home was actually pretty large, with a small portable generator chugging along to the side of it. And hopefully, once she stepped inside, she would find... "Heyyy! Leah! How you doing? Here, have a seat. This one is yours, by the way!" "Thanks, Andrew!" Leah replied as she carted her personal belongings into the tent. A space heater and fluorescent lightbulbs kept the tent lighted and warm, and she noticed a couple of power strips lying on the ground as well. Eight bunks lined the tent's sides, with a pillow and sheets folded neatly on each one. Leah sat down on the third one on the left and began to pull her belongings off of the trolley and beneath her bed. "Oh, we forgot to tell you. They'll have wi-fi set up in two days. I figured you'd want to know that, since you carted that, uhh..." "My pride and joy!" "Why are there four fans sticking out of that desktop tower? And were three monitors really necessary?" "It's fine, right?" "Yeah, I guess, but..." "That reminds me! You guys know why we had to, like, move all the way here? Ten minutes from our old living spaces?" "I dunno. Probably because we'll be bringing in more people." "Why's that matter?" "Well," Andrew explained, "now that the Portgate's probably permanently open we'll need a lot more people at the facility and stuff. And it's probably easier to establish something over here than to have them live eight stories above the Portgate, you know? They'll probably still have some more personnel aboveground as well, though." "Why us, though?" "We know about this place more than anyone else, it'd be better to keep us handy." "I guess. Hey," Leah asked, "you, uhh...remember our friends?" "Oh yeah, I do! What do you think happened to them?" "I'm asking you. Last I remember, we just left the wounded ones at the Portgate and went through." "I dunno." "Yeah..." "Hey," Andrew asserted, "I'm sure they'll be fine. Cheer up! Come on, let's get all that stuff unpacked." "...thanks, Andrew." With a smile on his face, the technician grabbed a box off the cart and cut it open with his multitool. He couldn't exactly shake that question from his mind, though. -William- "...so yes, the five aliens have been given sedatives on a drip feed for the past few days as part of their treatment." "We couldn't take that risk, William. I hope you understand." "I do, but..." "Look, it's going to be easier to have them knocked out than having them conscious and possibly attempt to escape. I would rather not take chances, nobody here would." "I suppose." "The encampment was abandoned, as you say?" "Yes. I doubt that it's abandoned for good, though. No signs of struggle, but the place was devoid of any supplies. Just tents." "Observant as always, Anderson. So, let's say that these...equines...come back sometime in the future. We'll have to try to obtain peace, of course." "How should we do that? I'm not an expert ambassador or diplomat, and I don't think there's anyone on site who can act in that role." "It's simple, really. We return our 'captives' as soon as they return." "Won't they react negatively to our arrival?" "You have load-bearing drones, right?" "I suppose, but they're not too reliable there. There's lots of wireless interference on the other side, although it doesn't seem to leak over through the Portgate. Wires still function fine, though." "Great. So we drop them off, as a sign of friendship. We wait for their next move. Act accordingly." "That's a good course of action. I'll do it." "Any idea when they'll be back?" "So far, no. Our drones definitely have a limited range here. If we bring in really powerful transmitters and long-range drones, though, we might be able to learn more." "Done. Anything else?" "No, not that I can think of. Strange, since an occurrence this big should be a much larger hassle to handle." "Alright. Call us if you need something, alright?" "Alright. Signing off."