//------------------------------// // 02 - A City Wakes // Story: The Conversion Bureau: The St. Louis Massacre // by Cloudhammer //------------------------------// Year 5, Week 19, Friday The black and white police cruiser drove down the mostly empty streets on the suburban outskirts of town, the officer behind the wheel yawning as she took a sip of her coffee. It was always the same on this route, Officer Helen Whitt thought to herself as she drove up to the end of Bradley Avenue, stopping to turn away from the I-44 off ramp. Taking a glance ahead, she did a double take at the unusual sight of a convoy of black trucks heading down the highway, escorting a pair of large tractor trailers. Picking up her radio, she counted off the number of trucks as she pressed the transmit button. “Dispatch, this is Unit 7-12. Reporting an unusual number of black trucks entering town on the I-44. Over.” A bright, chipper voice answered. “Unit 7-12, this is Dispatch. It’s probably something coming to the central Bureau if they’re going down I-44. Will inquire when they open at 8. Over.” Helen shook her head and smiled in amusement at the nonstop happy tone of their new dispatcher. The Chief had been against hiring a pony to what was predominantly a human police force, but Legal had reminded him that the amended law regarding equal opportunity employment now covered ponified US citizens as well, he’d backed off. For her part, she found Switchboard to be a nice change of pace from the usual monotone the old dispatcher had. Watching the last of the convoy drove out of sight, she felt a slight shiver up her spine, but shrugged it off as her nerves and turned to the left. Maybe she’d go by the Bureau once her shift ended, see if her brother wanted to go get dinner somewhere. Ever since he’d been ponified the previous year, he’d practically begged her to come try some of the restaurants in the pony district. He sat in his recliner, remote in hand, and didn’t know what to do. Looking over at the mantle covered in photos and plaques bearing awards he’d earned, he sighed for what felt like the thousandth time that morning alone. Thirty-two years he’d given to the force, thirty-two years of early mornings. He’d endured two broken relationships, the derision of hundreds, and a pair of bullet wounds in his upper chest that had missed killing him by a cat’s whisker. And now it was done. He was retired, and he was realizing that he didn’t want to be after all. Getting to his feet, he crossed the room to look at one of the plaques again, the brass polished to a soft glow. “Awarded to Lieutenant Jesse Morales, for heroism in the line of duty.” He read aloud before shaking his head. Setting the award down, he returned to his recliner to catch the weather. “And of course, they’re still on commercials,” He groused as yet another car ad played. Looking away from the TV, he saw the flyer that one of his friends had given him at the retirement party the department had thrown him sitting on the end table. On the front of it was a stylized sun and moon, with the words “The Conversion Bureau” written across the top. Reaching over and opening it, he traced down the words again. The warning about the Rejection of the Earth into Equestria’s dimension. The procedure for checking in and what to expect during your stay, and what your options were post-Conversion. Jesse held the flyer for a few minutes, then with a single breath made up his mind. After all, it wasn’t like he was doing anything here, was he? Picking up his keys, he walked out to his pickup, a battered old timer, just like him. Well, they could go for one last drive together at least. “Yo, get your ass up Kirk. It’s your turn to watch the stash.” The harsh voice said as a boot kicked Kirk in the side. With a groan, the teenager sat up from the ratty mattress he had been sleeping on and rubbed at his eyes with one hand, the other instinctively patting the Glock automatic pistol shoved into the waistband of his pants. “Alright already Sanchez, don’t gotta be such a dick about it.” Kirk grumbled as he got to his feet. The house the gang used to hold their weapons, drugs and any members who didn’t have homes to go to was a standard suburban affair, though the cracked walls and stained carpets indicated that it had seen better days. Kirk stretched before walking into the living room, where the gang’s financial expert, Ricky, was hunched over a calculator and a pad of paper, a partially disassembled Uzi on the table next to him. “You still working on that broken piece of shit Ricky?” “If we hit the Boys again this week or next, we can grab enough of their stuff to be able to buy replacement parts for this online.” He said without looking, though he knew that Kirk was wincing. The Southampton Homicidas were a pretty well-armed group, but they had next to nothing compared to the Boys of Destruction, the local Crips set. The only advantage they had was surprise and tenacity. “Hit the Boys again? That’s fuckin’ crazy, we lost Jules and Lisa the last time, and there’s no way that we’d be able to hit them again so soon!” Kirk snapped. slouching into a chair and turning on the old TV they had. The damn thing barely got any reception, but they hadn’t mustered up the desire to go steal a better one. “I know, I know... but if we want to expand our operation we’re gonna have to take some risks. Oh yeah,” Ricky turned around, “can you clean this place up a little? Andy’s coming back today from his final orientation at the Bureau in Northampton, least we can do is make things look less like a shithole for him.” Kirk cursed under his breath, but got up anyway and started picking up the ever-present trash that seems to follow sixteen year-olds around. He was about to open the door to take out the first bag when there was a knock on the door. Keeping one hand on the Glock, he nodded to Ricky and opened the door a crack. Standing on the stoop was a single earth pony, colored a dark orange, a mane of bright yellow with a few strands of red showing cut close to his neck. “Who the fuck are you?” Kirk asked. “It’s me, now let me in Kirk.” “What’s the password?” The teen challenged angrily. “Kirk, you jumped up little idiot, you got three seconds before I turn around and kick that door in on your skinny ass.” The stallion hissed irritably. Kirk laughed. “Alright Andy, come on in.” He opened the door all the way. The stallion trotted in past him, swatting at him with his tail. Kirk could see the mark branded on his flank, that of a tree in autumn, a pool of shadow cast underneath it. “And the name’s Fall Shadows now, so get used to it.” Cloudhammer groaned as he put a hoof to his forehead. He should not have kept licking that salt block. The pegasus rolled onto his belly, wincing at the sunlight shining into his eyes from the window. Breathing into a hoof, he sniffed tentatively and snorted at the smell. “Always hate the smell the morning after going partying.” He grumbled as he trotted into the bathroom. Taking care of his business, including a vigorous brushing of of his teeth, he made his way slowly back into the room, better acclimated to the light of the new day. Looking around, he snorted at the mess of the room. Lariat, Dusty, Wrecker and Anvil were all sprawled out on the floor, while Flare was slumped half on, half off one of the beds. Aegis was nowhere to be seen. Cloudhammer sighed, the memories of the frankly disturbing revelations from the night before coming back to buzz around his head like a swarm of parasprites. Sure, he and Chrysanthemum had known that their relationship wasn’t permanent, and they’d been careful, or at least so he thought. But then his six months had ended, and he’d returned to Canterlot, leaving her behind... pregnant? Why didn’t she tell him? He snorted angrily and stomped a hoof as the door clicked, Aegis nosing it open and trotting in, a tray of food balanced on his back.. “Grabbed some chow from downstairs. Figured y’all would want something for the hangovers after last night.” He said, the barest trace of sarcasm in his voice. He set the tray down on the table and started to turn toward the door when Cloudhammer cleared his throat, taking a deep breath. “Look Aegis, about what I said last night-” Aegis turned back, his eyes barely smoldering. “Look, Ah’m not even sure what I want to think about whatcha said. That ya knew my mom, had... had relations with ‘er, and that I might be your get? How d’ya think I’d feel? There’s not even a way ta know for sure!” He said, his accent starting to creep back in as his frustration rose. “Not quite amigos.” Lariat said as he sat up from the pile on the floor. Rubbing the back of his head, he looked to see where it had been resting and laughed at the sight of the others sprawled on the floor. “Now that is a sign of a party gone right. Anyway, there is a way. We can just go the Bureau and have them do a paternity test. Humans do it all the time.” Cloudhammer looked over at the clock on the end table, the softly glowing face reading 6:55am “The Bureau opens up at 8, so I suppose that we could...” He looked at Aegis, trying not to sound too soft. He had his reputation to uphold after all. “What do you want to do Aegis?” The stallion stared at the two of them and then snorted, trotting to look out the window at the city. “Sure, why not? Put this whole mess to rest one way or th’other.” Cheerheart loved working at the Bureau. She didn’t have anything to do with the actual Conversion process itself, but her job was important all the same. Running a daycare was a tough job on any normal day, but when your charges occasionally included infants of a wholly different species that couldn’t be exposed to magic at all, things definitely got more exciting. Although, would that make the three tribes of ponies different species too? But they could have foals together though... She shook her head as she entered the cafeteria, which was filled with the staff and some of the newfoals, both pre- and post-Conversion. She had no clue where the term came from, but found it delightfully appropriate, given the newly Converted’s curiosity about everything. She had been hesitant about moving here from Equestria, the rumors about human violence and apathy could be heard anywhere in the quiet corners, but she’d been pleasantly surprised. All the humans she’d seen come into the Bureau, even the ones just curious about the process, had been nice, a little nervous perhaps, almost like they were worried their friends would think less of them for coming. The ones with children were nervous, but for different reasons. She remembered a woman who was terrified that she’d somehow stop loving her child if she Converted. They’d settled that one out pretty easily, and by the end of the week the woman was now a lovely unicorn mare who loved her daughter even more. It was at this point she realized that somepony was calling her name, and with an embarassed shake of her head and a flick of her tail, she saw that Cirrus, the Bureau’s new flight instructor and a newfoal himself. “Earth to Cheerheart, are you in there?” He said with a grin. He fell into step with her as the two ponies walked up to the serving line. “So, a bit for your thoughts.” “Oh, just thinking about all of this, you know? Getting to come visit a completely new country filled with a species that never existed to us Equestrians six years ago, and taking care of the foals of said species was definitely not something that I’d thought about when I discovered my special talent.” She said with a laugh as they collected the trays that Berry Delight gave them. “That’s okay. I’d never really given thought to the idea that not only would a race of candy-colored ponies would appear on Earth, but that I’d be able to turn into a member of said race, and be able to fly on my own at that!” He chuckled wryly. “Although I do miss being able to fly helicopters now.” “Really? Even when you can simply spread your wings and fly whenever you want now?” She asked as they sat down, doing her best to ignore the smirks coming her way from some of her friends. Everypony had started assuming they were going out because they spent so much time together, but nothing could further from the truth. They were just good friends, as odd as it seemed for a daycare pony and a flight specialist to become friends. “Especially now.” He said, his eyes getting a little distant at the memories. “There’s just something... I dunno, moving about being able to lift a machine that by all rights should never leave the ground, and fly around the sky like a bird.” He took a bite of his muffin and chewed slowly. “I swear, what’s really impressive is how all you native Equestrians aren’t a bunch of butterballs, with how good this food is.” He ducked as Cheerheart flicked a cherry at him, a mischievous grin on his face. “Oh, I almost forgot. How is Helen doing? Still no luck in convincing her to come have dinner in the pony district?” She asked. “Not yet, though I’m hoping to convince her soon. Being a police officer here in this town is dangerous. I don’t know what I’d do if something happened to her.” His ears flattened as his tone grew melancholy. Cheerheart reached across the table and patted his forehoof gently. “Don’t worry, I’m sure that she’ll be just fine. Who knows? Maybe today’ll be the day! Or you could even see about getting her to take the plunge?” She said with a wink. Cirrus laughed. “Not likely, she’s as stubborn as our dad was. She’ll come around to it eventually, but not by anyone else’s advice.” The two laughed and continued to eat their breakfast, finally separating to go to their respective areas. Cheerheart was looking forward to playing with the foals today, maybe let them try some hoof painting again. Hopefully this time the paint would stay on the walls. Spatial Shift smiled weakly at the stern faces of the guards, both human and pony, as he entered the heavy door that protected the main lab of the serum research building. He stood still as the decontamination shower washed off anything that could be brought in from the outside, and snorted as the enormous blow dryers mostly got the moisture out of his coat. Grumbling as he felt his coat already beginning to fluff up, he was once again tempted to just let a pulse of his magic fix it. But the rules were very clear, and he would not, could not break any of them. It would be such a shame to waste the effort the PER had spent in getting him to work here, after all. Granted, his duties didn’t include all that much, really. Just sending them information on any promising developments in the serum, so that they could replicate it in their own stores they had stolen four years ago. He had felt a little bad that they’d had to steal it in the first place, but they needed a base amount to start from, and in a way it was still being used for its intended purpose, so he supposed that it was alright. “Good morning Velvet.” He smiled at his fellow researcher as he trotted to his workstation. “What are we working on this morning?” “Batch #37658, they think they stabilized the thaumatic matrix, so that the serum effectively doesn’t need a unicorn to cause the transformation anymore.” Spatial tried not to show too much joy at the information. If he could get his hooves on a sample and send it to the rest of the PER, then anypony would be able to ponify a human. “That is a pretty big step, how much testing’s been done on it?” Velvet shrugged. “I’m not sure, honestly. I think the unicorns back in Canterlot developed the original version this batch came from, but we’ve made some pretty significant strides in fixing some of the breakdowns in the serum stability. I think we’ll be able to test it on chimpanzees next week, if today’s tests go well.” Spatial grinned. Today was indeed a lucky day for him. He decided that he’d wait until the tests were completed, then he’d try to send a sample to the PER HQ that evening. Nopony would mind if he offered to lock up the lab, after all. The black trucks finished dispersing into their assigned units, many heading toward the police precincts around the city. Their jobs would be to prevent police responders from being able to show up to the true target, the serum research facility. Another group of trucks raced along the sleepy streets toward the suburban Bureau, their orders simple. Destroy it and everything inside. Steve Rangel held his rifle tight as his truck came to a stop. He was a part of Alpha section, tasked with securing the Bureau next to the serum facility, and eliminating all the hostiles within. The way their orders read though, it was clear that any pony in the building was to be considered hostile. He wasn’t quite sure how he felt about that. He knew that something had to be done about it, that the ponies were slowly wiping out mankind and everything that they’d accomplished, whether they realized it or not. There’d been protests, thousands of them the world over. But none of the governments wanted to listen, already convinced that this ‘Barrier’ was forming and that there was no way to stop it. If the so-called Princesses were so powerful, then why couldn’t they use their fancy magic and stop it? But... to kill civilians, some of whom were still legally US citizens, even if they were ponies now... That just made him feel nauseous. He’d believed what they’d taught him in the Army, but after his term of service he’d had to quit. The ideals of nobility and honor that he’d thought were still there had just been smoke and mirrors to convince a dumb, idealistic eighteen year old to join up. But this, fighting to defend his very species against utter annihilation, that was something that he could understand. The radio headsets they wore crackled. “One minute to operation commencement. Check weapons and prepare to deploy.” His hands instinctively checking his rifle, he looked out the window at the tractor trailer his section had been escorting. They’d all wondered what was in the back of the trailer that was so damn important, but all they’d been told was, “It’s the Package. That’s all you need to know. Do your jobs, and don’t ask questions above your paygrade.” He looked up, taking a deep breath as the clock on the dashboard ticked to 7:00. The radios clicked on again. “Operation: FIRE SALE is a go.”