//------------------------------//
// CH 23: Alliances and Machinations 
// Story: Bridging Ages, Bridging Worlds 
// by BlueDWarrior 
//------------------------------//


=== BABW: A New Conflict ===


=== Chapter 23: Alliances and Machinations ===






[ July 20, ????+1 – Makabkumi, Zebrav[1] ]
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        It was a relatively cool day in the Zebra Capital of Makabkumi, which sat below the equator relative to Canterlot, so it experienced opposite seasons. The Prime Minister, and therefore head of the government sat in a rather large office with the President of the Republic[2].

“President Zu’Olala, have you had time to go over the proposal the Royal Sisters of Equestria sent us?” Prime Minister Al’Kadar asked of his technical superior.

“Yes I have Prime Minister. I should have known that Luna was the one who wrote most of the technical aspect of this proposal, she is every bit of the viciously sharp scientific mind that I envisioned when spoke to her beyond The Veil,” Zu’Olala responded with a serenity seemingly beyond her mere 50 years walking the face of Equus.

“Indeed. What she writes of would revolutionize all of Equus. And I believe that buying to this program would ensure that we do not fall behind any of the other nations in the technology, or frankly, the arms race,” Al’Kadar replied.

“I see. While I detest the idea of some kinds of arms race sweeping the realm we all co-inhabit, there are always aggressive elements that would wish to do our nation harm. And the last thing we need is to be unable to defend ourselves from a threat, be it seen or unseen,” Zu’Olala replied, a heavy sigh punctuating her statement.

“Are you speaking of the Sons of Ulk’Dravto?” Al’Kadar asked of the President.

“Yes. The Sons speak of this need to follow the one Grand Spirit, but the only reaction anyone else has to Ulk is to fear it,” Zu’Olala responded, as her eyes narrowed.

“I wish we had the wherewithal to wipe those zealots out. Our Nation was founded on the basis of balance between our Nations in the Physical World, and the Spirits of the Astral and other Planes we commune with. To reject that in favor of blind obedience to a single entity is anathema to me,” Al’Kadar added for himself.

“It is to me as well. I do wish my sister was around, she was a once-in-a-generation talent when it came to communing with the Spirits,” Zu’Olala complained plaintively, Al’Kadar noting that her even and serene tone always faded when she spoke of family and other personal issues.

“Yes, it almost the 20th Anniversary of the day she shed her mortal form and became a part of the Great Web of Life,” Al’Kadar mused.

“There are only a hoofful of Zebras that can achieve the level Spiritual Awareness and Harmony necessary to ascend to the next plane before their death. And possibly only one per generation that can do it before they reached advanced age. And to think it was my own sister who was the one for our generation…” Zu’Olala spoke in a wistful tone, still missing the physical presence of her older-by-two-years sister.

“Is that sentiment for your sister alone, or does it include your niece, as well?” Al’Kadar asked with all seriousness.

“Perhaps. Zecora is starting to show all the signs that my sister did when she finally vanished from this plane. I can only imagine the maelstrom her mind is in regarding the fact that her own mother achieved Spiritual Nirvana before she had graduated from secondary school,” Zu’Olana wondered as she had a faraway look, peering into the quiet mid-winter sky of the capital, thin wispy clouds the only interference with the blue sky and Celestia’s bright sun that hung overhead.

Al’Kadar stood up and made to exit the room, but not before asking one more question of his President. “I know you can feel it as well, the spirits born of the world that the Royal Sisters have visited have begun to encroach upon this space. I feel that bringing humans into our own Herd will increase our understanding of the world beyond The Veil to depths none of us can currently fathom.”

“To ignore that fact, I would be remiss. Then again, what will we find when we stare into the abyss?” Zu’Olala responded, as the forest green stripes on her body began to luminesce slightly, as she allowed some of her Spiritual Power to vent from her body.



[ July 21, ????+1 - Vogelstad, Gryphon Federated Territory ]
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        “It figures, it was only a matter of time before those prissy little, well, taller Ponies would come crying to us for help,” a tiger-bodied and eagle-headed Gryphon said, as he rubbed a white goatee-like cleft of feather underneath his beak.

“You sound… non-plussed about this treatise by the Royal Sisters, Tiberius…” King Guile mentioned aloud to said tiger-morph as he looked over from his gold-framed, crush-red-velvet coated chair where he sat, heading this meeting of the Gryphon Clan leaders that constituted the Federation.

“Yes because it is another example of those two throwing their political weight around,” Tiberius said; the displeasure in his voice evident to the other clan leaders and King Guile.

“I’m not sure if I’d go that far. From what I can read, this looks like a genuine open invitation to join them in this endeavor regarding the Zweiter Welt[3],” a crow-headed and black-jaguar[4]-bodied Gryphon remarked, as he went through his copy looking for any kind of hook or trap from the Equestrian government.

“It sounds to me like you are showing the typical Tigris annoyance at how powerful Equestria and her commonwealths are. And I happen to agree with Leader Olaf, there doesn’t appear to be any double-dealing on Equestria’s part involved with this proposal,” a tawny beige leopard-bodied and falcon-headed morph added for his own sake.

“You’re damn right I’m annoyed, Lubomir, by how powerful those Ponies have become since the Leo house signed that accord some two centuries plus ago,” Tiberius replied, not even bothering to disguise his feelings.

“Our expansionist policies and tendency to actively eat Equestrians was an untenable position, given how far our antagonism was forcing the Ponies to develop weapons and offensive magic. Not to mention it was patently obvious to my great-grandfather that Celestia’s patience was and is not infinite, and if we continued on our path, we would face reprisal from her directly,” Guile replied to Tiberius, his own frustration starting to build.

“So you would sell us into the same stagnation that now plagues the Pony species? Our population has already hit a plateau. So many of our cubs feel despondent about their future prospects, seeing themselves locked up into tidy little safe-zones. How long do you think you can hold this détente with Equestria with these circumstances?” Tiberius asked of Guile.

“If I may… Earth’s population is tightly packed into certain corridors of habitation, especially given the ecological degradation their world has suffered. Along with infusing some new blood, if you will, into our own Clans, it would give us ample territory to stake claim to. From there, we can assist in restoring their ecology, thereby giving us the opportunity to hunt and fish at our leisure, should the mood strike us in any case,” an owl-headed snow-leopard morph replied, looking to quell Tiberius's growing frustration.

Tiberius began to deliberately slow his breathing to calm himself down, finding that we was getting worked up again at the shared snarled history of the Gryphon Tribes of the last three hundred years, roughly. “I… I accede.”

“Wait what, all of that strum und drang and it’s over just like that?” Guile asked of Tiberius, concerned with how quickly he dropped the issue apparently.

“Sigmar brings up a good point. There is fresh territory to explore and potentially exploit in the Zweiter Welt. Plus, we can leverage ourselves as stronger allies of Humanity, given that we may be more ideologically in-line with how they think, versus a certain tall white horse Princess.”

Guile was not sure what to think of Tiberius's sudden change of heart. That tiger-striped gryph is definitely scheming something. He has not let go of the resentment that has plagued the entire nobility of the Tigris house since they surrendered the crown to my great-grandfather at the end of the last war with Equestria and her commonwealths. That resentment can bubble over at any time, and cause all of the Primäre Welt problems. If I could get them all to dedicate themselves to building up Earth… then that could vent this frustration into something productive…

“So anyone else have any objections to this treatise from Princess Celestia and Luna, or can I send word of our general approval of the outline?” King Guile asked of the other six House leaders at the meeting.

All of the six Gryphons in question shook their heads ‘no’ with varying degrees of enthusiasm.

“With that said, let us discuss the exact text of our official response, so we can go ahead and adjourn until October for our regular Fall Conference,” Guile responded as he called for a scribe to begin transcription.


--- = ---


“I hate these meetings so, I am left with nothing to do while the Clan Leaders are discussing business. It would be better if they would open up the meetings to at least the press…” Queen Guinevere thought aloud, as she snacked on cubed cured beef and read a book on Zebra Shamanism to pass the time.

“Ah! Darling Guinevere, how long has it been since we’ve met face to face?” Tiberius called to the wife of King Guile with an oddly cheerful tone.

“A couple of weeks since the Summer Conference, which hasn’t been long enough for me…” Guinevere responded, nonplussed by the attention from the tiger-morph.

“You sound like you are not welcomed by my presence, my Queen,” Tiberius responded, sensing the strained emotions in Guinevere’s voice, but not seeming to care in the least.

“I’m not. It seems that every time we meet you prattle on about how much better of a mate that you would make for me,” Guinevere replied, her attendant rolling his eyes as she did to accent the sentiment of his queen.

“But it is very true, my dear. Guile is so busy playing politics, especially with that White Horse, that he cannot attend to your more… intimate needs,” Tiberius mentioned, with a clear intonation to what he was driving at.

A sentiment that Guinevere did not take kindly, as she glared directly at the Leader of the House of Tigris. “I do not have time for your games, Tiberius. My husband is planning on embarking on nothing short of a revolutionary drive in the Zweiter Welt, and I plan on seeing him through to the bitter end. Regardless of how many cold and lonely nights that may leave me with.”

Tiberius smirked at the sudden drift in tone when Guinevere uttered her last line; he knew that the Queen’s frustration with the lack of personal time with Guile was eating bit by bit at her psyche.

“True. I have heard of your, ministrations in the back channels. It is clear that Guile did not marry you simply for being a pretty face,” Tiberius mused, as he began to walk back to the suite where he was residing for the time being.

“No he certainly did not, and you would be wise to remember such,” Guinevere responded, making her frustration with Tiberius evident to all around her.

“Why do you simply not have Guile take care of Tiberius, he would certainly be well within his right to,” the aide asked of his queen as Tiberius was now clearly out of listening range.

“Because the political tension in the House of Tigris is increasing by the month.They are the most aggressive expansionists of any House in the Federation. The last couple of centuries of being restrained to their territory ever since the House of Leo took the reins of leadership has frustrated their nobles. And that frustration has been concentrated and passed down to each new generation of nobles. I don’t pretend to have some special insight, but anyone can tell that this situation is going to boil over,” Guinevere answered, reminding her aide (yet again) that she was quite politically astute.

“So, what are we do to?” the aide asked in response.

“Hopefully, joining this project on Earth will give some kind of safety valve to release the tension with the House of Tigris. The last thing this world needs is a another civil war within the Federation. The last one was only stopped when Wraithwind and a less politically seasoned Celestia directly intervened five hundred years ago,” Guinevere responded, as she remembered quite well the history of the Federation, and why it was a Federation and not a Kingdom like Equestria was.


[ July 22, ????+1 – Dragon Central Council, Karrak-za-Jalve ]
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        “How interesting indeed…” Wraithwind said as he presided over the full council of Nine.

“According to this proposal, Celestia would give us license to Convert those willing of the Human population of Earth, and access to conduct business on Earth otherwise. In exchange she asks that we enter into this alliance of the major nations and the friendly human confidants so that we would act as some kind of unified voice,” Bloodthorn mused aloud, as she leafed through the bound proposal that had been translated into Draconic script.

“Do you have any objection to it, Bloodthorn? We all know how particular you can be when it comes to anything that even hints at questioning the sovereignty of the Central Council,” Silentclaw asked of the Head of the Sub-Council of War.

“Of course, someone has to be concerned with our political situation. And it is for that reason I would find myself more or less in agreement with this proposal,” Bloodthorn replied, her characteristic snarl replaced with a cold, business-like tone.

“This is, unlike you, Bloodthorn. I half expected you to say we should have blown the Princess off and go on to establish colonies on Earth of our own accord,” Rosethorn figured, genuinely surprised by the nature of her sister’s response.

“And what would come of it? Possibly a worsening of the standing of the Council amongst our population. Our actual ability to manage our population as dwindled ever since the Princesses ended the Reign of Insanity some millennia plus ago. We have to show that we can act and function as a government and provide for all of Dragonkind, or we may as well just remain in these walls and never bother speaking to any other city-state,” Bloodthorn figured, as she compared the natural authority the Dragon Militia had over her tenure, and how it had slowly become more and more ignored in the general population.

“A concurrent issue with our dwindling political power within our population, is the fact our population has remained stubbornly stagnant since the Princesses have embarked on their long quest to restore the natural order of our world from Discord’s long reign,” Livewire said, as she placed an easel opposite the three large tables that made up the primary seating arrangement of the Council Chamber.

She then placed a chart upon that easel, one that shown, in stark detail, how the Dragon population was actually slightly declining compared to the growth most of the other major races. The only other population that wasn’t growing to a significant degree were certain Changeling hives, as it appeared on said chart.

“Yeah, that’s been a problem I’ve noticed too, Leader Bloodthorn. We’re not getting very many young recruits into our ranks,” a dark green and slate-gray fringed Dragon asked of his council leader.

“Legionik is right, I can’t maintain an army if I don’t have fresh blood. And if something threatens Dragonkind as a whole, I would have to rely upon old stubborn veterans that I would have to basically brow-beat into following orders,” Bloodthorn added, agreeing with the councildragon in charge of recruitment and retention.

“Fierce independence has its benefits and drawbacks, yes…” Wraithwind mentioned, as it was clear he was thinking deeply on everything the council was talking about.

“Not to mention that introducing the perspective of a population that had no choice but to grow and thrive in close proximity with each other can allow us to truly develop a stronger sense of ‘nation’, instead of the loose diaspora that we are now,” a soft violet-scaled and white-spined dragon mused softly, as she looked through various bound books.

“You would think that, Heartbeat. But it is true, what good is it doing us to call ourselves a nation, when we don’t act like one? We’re barely better than Diamond Dogs in that regard,” Bloodthorn asked aloud.

“So I take it that none of you all have any objection to me sending approval of this plan, on our entering into this alliance vis-à-vis Terra?” Wraithwind asked of the other eight councildragons.

None offered any objection.

“Good, then I will tell our former student the good news,” Wraithwind responded with a chipper tune.



=== --- ===



“So what’s the deal, sister?” Rosethorn asked of her silver-and-red sister.

“Nothing at all, just had some time, since that purple whelp breezed through here, to do some introspection,” Bloodthorn replied.

“He reminds you him doesn’t he?” Rosethorn asked of her sister, the tone becoming quite somber suddenly.

“Yes. He very much reminds me of him when he was the same age, relatively speaking,” Bloodthorn replied.

“How long has it been, 430 years I believe,” Rose thought, as the two Dragonesses sat on a bench near the council chamber door.

“Exactly 429 years, 11 months, and 4 days, give or take a couple of hours,” Blood replied, as she could remember almost down to the minute that scene.

“It wasn’t your fault. You know that every Dragon lives and dies by their motivation, by their Desire…” Rose said to her sister, as she could sense that the bottled up emotions were leaking out as they did occasionally.

“I know, I tried to find something, anything for him in those last months. But my inability to keep contact with him had robbed me of any sense of what his core desire was. And eventually time ran out on me, and him. I still think that I should have been a better mother, or at least wrote to him more than once every couple of years…” Bloodthorn replied, as she was frustrated that she was showing such emotional vulnerability in public.

“That is something we can be told, but never really learn until we have to experience it,” Rosethorn said, as she felt her elder sister lean on her with a lot of her weight.

“I… I want to have a second chance to raise a whelp properly, but… I’ve spent so much time being this hardtail that I am not sure if any drake would have me in that way,” Bloodthorn said, finally feeling comfortable enough to speak on issues other than the military.

“I guess we’re both in the same boat. I think I have such a reputation of being a loose draka that I can’t get a drake to give me the time of day beyond normal courtesy. It felt so nice to have Spike respond to me like he did, even if he wasn’t a target of my affections,” Rosethorn replied, the two sisters seemingly in their own little world as they spoke like their ages were barely into two-digit numbers, instead of quite a bit into four-digits.

Wraithwind looked on at the pair of sisters with quite a degree of humor, his own paternal instinct coming through in its silent way. “It warms this ice-using heart to see Bloodthorn acting more like Silverthorn, instead of the persona she adopted once I got her into the Milita.”

“You know how she gets when you use her birth name without her saying so, and I don’t want to ruin the moment the two of them are having,” Livewire said as she held the charts she was using during the meeting under her arm.

“You know what else will warm my ice-using heart, though?” Wraithwind asked, as he walked along the path back to his primary office, Livewire at his side.

“What, sir?” Livewire responded in kind.

“Seeing if I can coax the Princess of the Sun into giving me a glimpse of Solaria again!” Wraitwind said in a very excited tone, before letting loose a hearty laugh.

“Ugh, I should have known…” Livewire said as she rested her palm on her forehead and shook them slowly.


[ July 24, 2081 – Manhattan, New York City, USA ]
=================================================


        “So how goes quelling the resisting forces in the Southwest, Major Ramirez?” Peter Vaughn asked of the regional commander in charge of sweeping in the Southwestern US and occasionally the Northern Mexican territory.

“We are still having trouble in the slums of Los Angeles. A rather powerful magician has manifested in the… Pasadena District? I believe she is calling Pasadena her home base but it is difficult to say if she is still there,” Major Ramirez replied nervously, not sure how Vaughn would respond to the news.
 
“And one powerful, however we are defining that, magician would be giving us a problem why?” Peter asked, as he looked at the video phone.

“She seems to be galvanizing the Outsiders into some kind of insurgent force. We are noticing a rapid increase of magical competency within residents in and near Pasadena. Whoever she is, she is not just simply a powerful magician, but a good teacher and leader,” Ramirez replied.

“Interesting, we may have to keep an eye on her. She can prove to be fly in the ointment… or a hidden blessing,” Vaughn concluded, as he ended the call.

Once he did, he slammed his fist on the desk, as he marked off another sector on a map he had drawn up on the terminal built into his desk.

“That’s at least fifteen different resistance movements already,” Vaughn said as he looked at all of the red X’s he had drawn on the map.

“Not to mention some of our intel has reported some… stragglers operating at the very fringes of society,” Claire said, as she dropped off a memory card filled with documents and unverified video.

“It wouldn’t surprise me if there were still the stray here or there somewhere. I want to know if they are operating on a point by point basis, or if they have some kind of base of operations they are maintaining Earth-side,” Nathan added, as he entered the room last and shut the door behind him.

“Intel is not able to answer that question, though the incidents they are reporting implies this is hit and run,” Claire replied, as Vaughn played one of the depositions.


“They made this big to do, saying that Earth was infested by plague and drowning in pollution, and that humanity was the source point of that pollution. Once humanity was cleansed, so would the Earth. The Earth could not be revived in full until the factory of the pollution was dismantled,” the electronically disguised man said, as he spoke of overhearing what may have been the stragglers the leadership of the SPH figured still skulked around Earth-side.


“So, do you believe this is a false flag operation on a part of resistors, or is Celestia really engaged in some kind of guerilla action against us,” Nathan asked of Peter.

“I have my suspicions, but not enough there to act on them – so let’s continue our sweeps as normal; but step of production of thaumatic sensors. We need to nail down if those damn Ponies really are still Earth-side or not before we can proceed in earnest,” Peter responded, as his anger subsided and he began calculating his next four moves again.


=== [ At the same time in the outskirts of Seattle, USA ] ===


        “So you have delivered our message to the parrot, correct?” a small, hooded figure said to a nervous looking man, who looked remarkably like the disguised man on the video the SPH watched during their meeting.

“Yes, Father, I have delivered the message as you asked. They will begin redoubling their efforts trying to ferret us out, but in their zeal, they will do nothing but further antagonize the population,” the man said, some calm coming to his voice as the spoke to his spiritual guide.

“Good, that is very good. Soon you will be rewarded for your labor in pouring the foundation for the Earth’s Revival,” the hooded figure said, the calm in his voice setting at ease any of the anxiety the man before him felt.

“This is necessary. The time that our Princess waste trying to find a less aggravating solution, the worse the condition of the Earth grows. If we dally too long, we will lose our window to save Humanity. We must act as quickly as possible,” another robed figure said, her voice somewhat more excited than that of the first, masculine one.

“You speak truth. However, we must prepare ourselves adequately. To embark on our quest of Purification and Revival without the proper equipment and planning will damn us all to failure. And failure in this quest is no option,” the masculine figure replied to the feminine one.

“Then I will accede to your wishes, Father. I merely wish to see that we complete this project with all due haste,” the feminine voice responded, her deference to the masculine figure evident.

“I understand. The world will not wait for us to prepare ourselves forever, so we must make with all deliberate speed,” the masculine figure concluded, as he dismissed the man who served as messenger.

After he was sure the man had left the room they commandeered to meet in, the figure took the hood off of his head, revealing an ivory white male Unicorn, whose mane was a faded blond, his eyes a soft blue, almost white themselves.

“I have been bathed in Her light, and seen the vision of Paradise. It is my solemn charge to gather those who have seen Her light as well, and prepare this world to become the Vision of Paradise that I saw during my Day of Change,” the figure stated solemnly, as if he were praying aloud.

“I have been bathed in Her light, and seen the Vision of Paradise. It is my solemn charge to bring the light to others who have not seen it, and prepare this world to become the Vision of Paradise that I saw during my Day of Change,” the female figure replied, as if the stallion was calling her to respond; as she removed her robe, her icy-blue coat almost seem to shimmer with a glow, as she basked in the spiritual radiance of the stallion he now dedicated all of her soul to.

“We must begin to build the New World. A world where Humanity is rescued from their Eternal Curse now and forever more, and can live their lives in peace and comity,” the stallion said, as he laid his hooves on the shoulders of the icy-blue mare, her eyes caught in a sense of spiritual rapture that would have frightened anyone that oversaw the scene.



== [ At the same time (again) in Pasadena District, Los Angeles, USA ] ==


        “I cannot thank you enough Amanda, you are doing so so much to help us against those Black Shield idiots,” a middle-aged woman said, as she vigorously hugged the twenty-something year old woman with the blazing red hair; a woman who had become something of a folk hero in the last couple of weeks.

“Well ma’am, anything to help. I mean, they did execute a coup against a duly elected government. Maybe if they had done right by us earlier they wouldn’t have to stoop to this,” Amanda replied with a warm smile.

Of course if they were so damn hard up, they should have just took overt control ages ago. Trying to play in the shadows only works for so long… Sunset Shimmer thought to herself, as she walked back to a truck that took her back to the safe house where she resided now.

These humans are so starved to be led, they’d follow the first smooth operator they heard; even if they were marched straight off a cliff into the sea. Celestia could own this world if she wanted it bad enough, but she doesn’t. But if she doesn’t want it, well… I’ll be perfectly willing to carve a little duchy for myself… the crimson-maned Pony disguised as a crimson-haired woman thought to herself, as the truck rambled on through the dilapidated streets.

“You’d think that having everything would be enough for ‘em. But no, now they gotta try and take out the President we went through all this effort to put in office. And she’s the first one since my grandpa’s generation to really try and do something. Nah man, it ain’t even goin down like that,” a young man of apparent Hispanic descent said, his Mexican Spanish accent faint like most children of Mexican refugees in this era. He fiddled some with a safety-locked thaumatic rifle that he ‘confiscated’ from a SPH mercenary.

I’ll make her recognize me. I will make her wake up at night in a cold sweat at the mere thought of making me angry. None of them will deny my intelligence, my power, my everything… Sunset Shimmer thought, as the other occupants of the truck could feel the heat emanating from ‘Amanda’ due to her Fire Magic as the tension built in her psyche.

“Hey, ‘Mandy. You’re making it pretty hot in here, gonna make the clim-control burn out. Just sayin’,” the same man said, as he pulled at his shirt neck trying to vent his body heat.

“Sorry, Enrique. Got a bit carried away there… you know how I can be when I’m left to my own thoughts…” Amanda apologized, and then chuckled as she ‘turned off’ her Fire Magic to let the climate control cool the truck back down to a more or less comfortable 72 Fahrenheit.

By the time I’m done with this city, there will posters of me… statues of me… children named after me. They will give me the respect, love, and adulation I always deserved… Sunset thought to herself, as she watched her confidants wave wands over the truck to ensure there were no tracking devices placed on them.

Once the all clear was given, the truck then proceeded on into a slightly less ‘broken-down’ section of Pasadena, where Amanda the ‘freedom fighter’ made her residence now. A slight, but appreciated upgrade from the group house Amanda crashed in until the last 3 weeks or so.


A short while later, the truck pulled into a garage, as the occupants emerged and hustled into the relative safety and, most importantly, anonymity of a rather large, no-rent apartment complex.

Amanda eventually reached her residence, and lounged out on the sofa-couch after taking off her boots.

“Even though my logical mind is telling me that Celestia and her hangers-on are gone, I just get the feeling that she didn’t go very far when she left. It would behoove me to restrain myself until I can build my forces and my own power some more,” the young lady thought aloud, as she laid on the couch-sofa alone.

“I wish I could show that prissy little bookworm what I’m doing now, she’d completely lose it. Oh I can just see the look on her face…”



[ July 29, 2081 – Safe Haven ]
==============================


        “So how are we doing… um… hrm, I wonder what we’re supposed to call you now?” Pamela said, as she sat on a chair cross-legged, her Battlestation Mk II humming along perfectly fine deep in the ‘bowels’ of the Computer Control hall of the base of operations for the H.E.A.

“I dunno either…” the red-haired virtual construct said, as she flittered from monitor to monitor of the 10-screen and two-projector array the 23 year old, raven-haired woman had set up.

“Well that dress you made for yourself in your new form is always shifting colors. Seems like it always does it depending on your mood, or the job you’re tasked with…” Pamela replied, as she struck an eye-closed, thoughtful repose.

“Why not just ‘Shift’ then. Since she’s always changing…” one of the Pegasus techs responded to the unasked question.

Pamela thought for a few moments, looking at the Pegasus tech, and then looking at the fairy-like form that the red-headed construct had taken as her default state. “So how about it?”

The construct thought for a few moments, resting on top of a window on the central monitor. “I like it, I mean best to keep it short, right?”

“Right then…” Pamela said, as she watched the rechristened Shift flutter off to some unknown part of the system.

“Ugh, I keep forgetting that since she merged with that proto-form that was already in the system, she has a legitimate mind of her own now. I guess I got used to Dana always listening to me, one way or another,” Pamela said, as she rolled her eyes at the cyber-fairy that seemed to be in exploration mode now.

A quick rap on the door frame of her monitoring room heralded Jacques with a tray from the commissary for Pamela. “Your hamburger, fries, and raspberry soda are here, Pam.”

“Thanks a lot Jack,” Pamela respond, flashing a quick smile at the fair-skinned former CIA agent.

“I guess that’s your term of endearment for me now?” Jacques replied, as he put the tray on Pamela’s side where she could swing herself around and eat.

Pamela swung around in her chair in the general direction where Jacques was standing, moving her head up and down between looking at the analyst and eating off her tray. “Yep, I guess we just have to get used to this whole setup, so might as well make it friendly. I mean, I know I had a bit of a reputation for being an iso[6] but, well… I guess being around Ponies kinda making me open up more than I thought I would.”

“Yeah, we have to learn how to be to ourselves working intelligence. But if that means we can’t talk comfortably to other people, or beings I guess, then how are we supposed to get any intel out of anyone?” Jacques added.

“By and large you don’t, but I guess that’s the difference between analysts and field agents, right?” Pamela responded.

“True. I always liked fieldwork over desk work. It’s why I like working with Natasha, well, Red Blaze now. Hopefully she’ll be fully rested and recharged when they all get back from Equestria,” Jacques said.

“Yeah, I would actually like to visit there. But I don’t wanna Convert to do it…” Pamela said, as she thought about the world the Ponies inhabited natively, or at least the vast majority of them.

“Hrm… didn’t think you were into fantasy/storybook worlds,” Jacques responded, intrigued by the sentiment.

“Well, I like a lot of things. Kinda reminds me of my mom showing me old movies, honestly…” Pamela responded, as she lounged back in her chair, waiting for Shift to come back from wherever she disappeared to.


-- == --


Captain Julio Rodriguez, now more or less the head of the human security forces for the H.E.A., sat in one of the common areas. The human population of Safe Haven had adjusted to the ambience of the space-station like base of operations quite easily, most of them having lived in similar conditions one way or another anyway. He looked at one of the surplus rifles as he thought about the late Capt. Johnson.

It still hurts... We came up in the Service Academy together... And now I'm pretty much the go-to authority on military affairs for the time being... 

He sat on a bench as he stared at the many tools of warfare that marked this era of Humanity, and took the time to engage in some somewhat deep contemplation about the situation.

Is this ultimately what the legacy of Humanity will be: a bunch of tools for waging war? I can't think that it'll end like this... But... I just don't know what to think about it all...

A guards-pony noticed Captain Rodriguez lying on the bench staring up into the ceiling, and decided to give the Human some company. 

"Excuse me? Um, Captain Rodriguez? Wouldn't it be better to rest in your room, I can't imagine those benches to be comfortable..." she said, somewhat nervous still around all the firearms stored away for use by the Human security forces, such that they existed in Safe Haven.

"Oh, don't mind me, I wasn't planning on going to sleep in here. I was more thinking about the whole situation to this point," Julio said as he sat upright again.

"Oh, I see..." the female guards-pony said, her anxiety around the modern weapons of war obvious to Julio.

Sensing an opportunity to bounce his internal ideas off a sounding board, he decided to start a conversation. "Firearms of all shapes and sizes, capable of firing all manner of ammunition. Humans are extremely well-practiced at the art of warfare."

The female guard's ears perked up, and decided to respond to the young captain's assertions. "You make yourself sound like wingless Gryphons."

Julio chuckled at the response. "From what I hear of the Gryphons, I guess that'd be a fair assessment. Although, seeing as we aren't raptor/feline hybrids, we had to go a little beyond the pale in developing our tools."

The Earth-Pony mare sat on the floor next to Julio, a little less anxious around all the firearms and such. "Yeah, we still have to deal with a few 'stragglers' who want to lead the 'traditional Gryphon lifestyle'. Most of the weapons they use at first blush wouldn't compare to this. But then again, being a predator by nature, they are living weapons in-and-of-themselves. And then there is their ‘Sword Art’ Magic, they call it, on top of that. A motivated, or just hungry, Gryphon is a dangerous thing to come across."

Rodriguez then began to contemplate the idea of a Gryphon outfitted like one of the SPH's grunts. "Yeah, the idea of something with an eagle's vision, a cat's reflexes, and heavy ordinance scares the hell out of me. I guess that's why these negotiations are so important."

"Yeah if we can get the Gryphons on board with the whole thing, it can go a long way to fixing what broke in this world apparently," she thought out loud, gasping at her last statement. Julio motioned that she shouldn't feel like she needed to hold anything back in this discussion.

"Anyway, while we're talking, it'd be nice if I got your name. Honestly it's hard for me to keep all you guards-ponies straight. If I remember correctly, your armor turns your coats colors like a magical uniform."

"Oh right. My name is Granite Base. I got it because I tend to act as a strong foundation for any team I'm a part of."

Hrm, I guess I could chide the Ponies for having such obvious theme naming... but we do the same thing anyway, just a few extra layers... Julio thought to himself, inwardly chuckling at how obvious some of the Ponies' names were.


-----


The two continued to talk, comparing each other's military philosophy in an abstract sense.

"I can see why your higher ups were planning new armor and protective gear first, over weapons. A world full of belligerent monsters, like yours, would tend to make you prioritize survival and continued pursuit of a goal," Julio remarked, thinking just what kind of weird world would produce such a nominally peaceful species despite all the screwed up things that apparently lived there.

Granite chuckled at the notion. "I could say the same for you all in terms of how you all think in terms of the military. At least, how the formal military appears to think. Although it seems like your 'monsters' tend to wear the same skin as yourselves, so to speak."

"Makes you wonder what is better: to not be able to see the monsters around you, but then not know when they are ready to strike? Or to be able to see them all around you, and have to live with the fact that they are around you at all times?" Julio asked, as he laid back down on the bench.

"It's hard to say. I'd personally like seeing the monsters, but I can see how that'd wear on the mind too," Granite responded, taking her helmet off.

Julio noticed the well-kept and braided mane, reminding himself of so many of the female infantry he served with until that point. Shouldn't surprise me really, but she is pretty cute I guess.

He sat up on the bench, as the mare near him looked more and more comfortable in the armory now that she had someone to talk to. "I can see why you'd think that Miss Granite. Sometimes I think that's what's been happening on this side the last 50 years. People got so tired of having to worry about who the monsters were, they just retreated into this, I guess false world where the monsters were so clearly obvious."

Granite could tell Julio was irritated and depressed, and probably by far more than just losing his colleague those weeks and months ago. "I've read of the condition of much of the populace; and it does seem like apathy is the reigning sentiment. Forgive me for speaking out of turn or too harshly, but it is just so depressing to see a population as large and potentially vibrant look so... so... um..."

"Dull and gray, like a bad pencil sketch?" Julio finished

"Yeah, I guess that's a diplomatic way to put it..." Granite affirmed nervously.

"Well, I think it's true, at least to some extent. I think it wouldn't take much to restore humanity back to 'full color' as it were, even discounting how Ponification would literally turn you colors. At the same time though, with the SPH in charge, well..."

"Well what?"

"Let's just say that some movies produced about a century ago might start looking more prescient than they already were and are..."

"Come again?"

Julio rubbed his hand against his face, inwardly telling himself that Granite wouldn't have gotten such an oblique reference if she was a Native. "Perhaps I should go find some classic movie and comic book buffs, they can better explain it to you. We could probably both do without being around all these firearms anyway."

"Yeah, I see what you mean."

The human and pony then walked out of the armory space, hoping there was a free media room somewhere out there.



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