• Published 26th Apr 2012
  • 10,154 Views, 122 Comments

The Conversion Bureau : Still Human - Shader



Ponification and Purification has occured. But is humankind really happy?

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Page 15

When ponies think about what happens within a Conversion Bureau, there are some pretty visible signs. A smile, two misty eyes, and a longing sigh.

The concept of helping those poor, down trodden humans become better. To hear the cheers of friends as each humans number is called. To see the grins on the new pony faces, as they wake up from their peaceful slumber, in a new, fresh body. Ready to make their place within Equestrian society.

Romantic, idealistic. And ultimately misguided.

For the first few months, this may have been true. When the poor, sick and depressed members of humanity came through, all the people happy to leave their troubles behind and begin a new life.

Once that river dried up, there was a drought.

See, many of humanity's ills had been exaggerated, in some places almost outright fabricated. There was no massive shortage of food, no diseases running rampant that couldn't be controlled.

Most of the trouble stemmed from lack of employment opportunities, leading to hefty unemployment, and ultimately, homeless. Around thirty percent if I recall correctly.

Which meant the remainder had no reason to convert.

This period of little to no activity at the Bureaus lasted for several years. And time ticked away as the countdown for Purification grew closer.

It was in the last six months before the pony-made armageddon when the dam finally broke. Time was running out, and with no answer to the requests, pleading, or even demanding of the ponies to stop it, people started caving in. It was "Convert or Die" time.

Millions of people streamed through, and nearly all were unhappy about leaving their lives and homes.

No longer was it cheering for their friends, but mourning for their past. No longer was it grins when they awoken, but tears and sobs. Suicide rates went through the roof, with newly converted ponies taking their own lives when they couldn't handle it.

It broke the ponies running the Bureaus. Ponies are almost childlike, innocent, even naive. Which is expected, coddled as they are by Celestia. And the cries, tears, and deaths killed them inside.

Each month would see a replacement team sent from Equestria, bright smiles and eager to help. They'd be drinking themselves unconscious every night within twenty days. Then they'd get shipped back to Equestria, the fresh batch would move in, and the vicious cycle continued.

Celestia made sure to keep this well hidden from Equestria. Keeping the media swamped with stories of happy, smiling converts, and pieces about families improving their quality of life.

Her PR team is the envy of every single politician, human or pony.

My own experience was one of the less pleasant ones. As one of the last in my city, I watched much of the horror run its course. I read all the reports, and saw it with my own two eyes. When it was my turn, I went with a cold heart. When I woke up, and lifted my hand to my face, I saw a green hoof. When I looked down my body, I found a pair of wings and the image of a rolled up scroll on my arse.

I cried myself to sleep that night.

PAGE 15

"Alright, talk to me," I demanded as I trudged up beside Hemmings, the orange Earth Pony almost bursting with glee. "What did you need me for?"

He swept one hoof across the city center square, towards a mass of people milling around, a mix of all three races, and his grin got wider. "Them!"

"What about them?" I sighed. I really didn't have enough time for theatrics.

"The new Militia!" I could swear he was nearly bouncing in place, like a kid about to get a lolly.

Rumors are nasty things. They burrow down into a community and take root, refusing almost any attempt to weed it out. And they could be anything, from some imagined perversion, to adultery.

During times of uncertainty and fear, they turn from harmless little fires, into raging infernos, wild and uncontrollable. And New Hope was no exception.

I turned back to the Earth Pony. "Is this about that rumor?"

"If you're referring to the one about Celestia sweeping in with her Royal Guard and bringing fire and brimstone, then yes" he replied, his eyes never leaving the to-be soldiers.

I nearly left a hoof shaped imprint in my forehead. "Oh, of all the stupid..."

That bloody rumor had been the bane of my existence for the last several weeks. Every day I'd have a multitude of worried people banging on my door, wanting answers, demanding action, and pleading for protection. Seems like someone had decided to take the matter into his own hands.

Of course, the rumors were completely absurd. I knew politics, and Celestia, while all-powerful when it came to Equestrian Law, was still bound by the one rule that bound us all. Good old public relations. She'd spent centuries bringing herself up as the peaceful, caring Princess of pony kind. I don't think Princess is even the right word. Mother would come closer.

Doing a one eighty and calling an attack on a city, that had done nothing other than exist, would damage her reputation for decades. And when that reputation would be with those she considers her children? Not going to happen.

Pity I couldn't get it into the thick skull's of the general populace.

A stray thought hit me. Peering at Hemmings, I asked, "I've got a question. What weapons are you giving them, and where did they come from?"

"I, uh... asked around the blacksmiths... and got some quotes... and then..." he chuckled nervously. It was the first change to his expression since I'd walked up beside him.

"You used City funds, without informing me?"

"Well... yes?" The grin was no longer filled with glee, being somewhere closer to guilt.

"Show me," I demanded, leveling a death glare at him.

He lead me over to one side of the square, where lines of tables stood. Sheets of cloth covered various lumps and bumps, and trotting up to one such table, he gripped the edge of a sheet and gave a tug.

Underneath were weapons of every size and make, all designed for pony bodies. Everything from wicked spikes attached to horseshoes, blades that appeared to fit to pegasi wings, to swords with a mouth grip, and even...

"Is that a rifle?!" I exclaimed, pointing to a rather suspicious looking steel tub with a strange device attached to it.

I didn't even need to turn around to know the gleam had returned to his eyes. "Yep! It's fully designed to be held and aimed with hooves, and this is how you fire it!" he pointed towards a mouth grip attached horizontally to the buttstock, an oversized trigger poking out from it. "Hold it in your mouth, and pull the trigger with your tongue. Fits perfectly when held in a shoulder held firing position. Ingenious huh?"

I didn't know whether to be impressed or depressed.

"So what about armor?"

Quickly, the Earth Pony turned to another row of tables on the opposite side of the square, also covered with cloth. "Over there. Full plate armor for the Earth Ponies, stuffs about a inch thick. Pegasi and Unicorns can't even lift it, so we've got light chainmail for them. All with an undercoat of kevlar." Inch thick steel Full plate? How much was this costing?

On second thoughts, I didn't really wish to know. Not until I had a stiff drink handy.

"We've got enough weapons for fifty men so far," he continued, "Only ten rifles so far though, since they're being made by hand. Plus they're crude as hell, and only bolt action, so they're going to be supplementary weapons to those who prove excellent shots."

"Anything else to go with this?" He'd gotten it this far, and already spent the money. Might as well learn how far down the rabbit hole my assistant had run.

This time, he did bounce. "This is the best part! We've started training the pegasi to use weather manipulation for battle, and the unicorns are practicing combat spells!"

By now, I had a near ecstatic orange pony face pressing up against my own, unamused, one.

I sighed again. It seemed to be something I was doing all too often. Both Hemmings and I knew there was no basis to the 'Celestia-geddon' rumor. And fifty men, who still tripped over their own feet in four-legged bodies they'd received a year ago, would do jackshit against the might of the Royal Guard. Not to mention this might just spin up the rumor mill further, as though I'd found out something to prepare for.

However, it would get the populace off my arse. That and Hemmings was on the verge of creaming his metaphorical pants over the idea.

I turned and jogged off, waving a dismissive hoof into the air. "Okay, do it. Just keep them under control. I don't need a bunch of armed thugs, on top of everything else, to deal with!" Looking back over my shoulder, I fixed an eye on the Earth Pony. "Oh, and Hemmings?"

"Yeah?"

"Take money from the coffers again without telling me, I'll sell you off for glue."