Chapter 1
Earth Calendar: 2114
Equestrian Calendar: 12 AC
New York City, for all its faults, was still a marvel of engineering and architecture, an incredible accomplishment of urban planning and construction; Home to well over 19 million. In spite of its slums, its smog, and its crime rate, it stood as a glowing beacon of hope surrounded by gray. A testament to the achievements of a united, dying world.
Every Human knew the story of the day the sky went dim.
An experimental procedure intended to instantly cleanse the atmosphere of greenhouses gasses, and restore balance to Earth, had ironically been its final undoing. The scientists responsible could never have known or predicted the horrifying results of their work.
The composition of the atmosphere had been forever blighted. Enough light could penetrate to differentiate between day and night, but little else.
Under the new iron sky no plants, save ferns and kelp, could grow, and those only with artificial stimulation. Species began to die off at an exponential rate. An experiment intended to bring life had instead condemned the planet to lifelessness.
The unthinkable final specter of death. Total planetary extinction within a century.
Lieutenant Isaac Wrenn was not enjoying the city sights. Isaac figured he wouldn’t enjoy the skyline even if he wasn’t submerged hundreds of feet below the east river. He had lost most of his conventional eyesight in a bioplasmic grenade attack.
The VIP who he had saved, an influential Earthgov politician, had set him up for life in gratitude; A high level officer position on the special forces, ocular Direction/Range/Distance sonar implants, and a healthy monthly stipend.
It wasn’t that Wrenn couldn’t see at all, it was that he couldn’t see past two meters. The grenade had left his eyes a stark milky white, a characteristic that seemed to put people off. The ocular implants used sonar to construct a digital bluish hued image of the world beyond two meters and present it to him on top of his organic vision. The implants had their advantages, such as being omni-directional, and so acute at motion detection that a wisp of wind could set them off, but Wrenn hated them.
The bluish tinge of the CG image left no color or enjoyment in the world at large, just digital jagged shapes.
And the headaches had led to many sleepless nights.
The implants did add to his intimidation factor, which was another plus in his book.
The small blue glowing slits above his eyebrows accentuated the stark void of his eyes, leaving most people under the vague impression that they were facing not a Human being, but a cold calculating machine. Wrenn was as emotional as anyone, but he liked to exploit his 'killer android' impression to get things done. It had a way of cutting through the red tape.
The harsh baritone of his CO echoed off the bulkhead, calling out the start of the terminal pre-mission count.
“Nestor Flight; Departure in ten minutes. All fire-team members on-station in five. Set condition two throughout the ship.”
The UES Indianapolis was a typical Earthgov special forces destroyer; Part submarine and part surface ship, with a sealed hangar for deployment of two VTOLs and an F-A26 Scythe when surface-side.
Wrenn’s job would be riding shotgun with the package all the way to delivery point, everyone else in the squad was just along for the first part of the ride. Once their VTOL dropped them off at a pre-chosen maglev terminal, a government controlled train would pre-empt normal traffic, swing in and pick up the package, and hopefully deliver them downtown to their destination without incident.
The owners of the package had insisted on providing their own guard while it was transported to the ship in London, and likewise insisted on providing their own guard when the package arrived in New York. But they apparently had no love for enclosed spaces underwater, and so allowed the ship to travel without one of them onboard, once they had verified that the package was loaded and the hatches sealed.
Wrenn snapped out of his reverie and fell to checking his gear; One semi-automatic RAC-7 railgun rifle, a spare and much weaker laser based pistol, two EMP grenades and a cluster smoke grenade, KA-BAR combat knife, earpiece, basic energy diffusion vest and gauntlets. Finally he pulled a helmet with a clear plexi-steel half visor from the rack, gave it a good thump, and affixed it to his head.
As he shut the door to his locker, Wrenn gave the embossed ship's emblem a quick pat, born mostly of affection rather than superstition, before turning towards the armory's fore access hatch.
"Sir? We're on-station now."
The Captain leaned in over his helmsman's console, and scanned the officer's readouts, noting the positions of all the surface traffic above as the XO spoke out from her position behind the bridge central holotank.
"Fireteam One reports package is secured, Nestor ready to depart."
The CO nodded, and moved towards the center of the chamber, establishing a strong grip on the railing that ringed the holotank, command, and operations stations as he issued new orders.
"Notify East River traffic control, and New York aviation Center of our temporary navigation restrictions, and transmit sixty second departure warnings to any traffic in the AO. Start the clock."
Accompanied by a soft computerized chirp, one of the main information screens above the shuttered central window bank began to count up from 00:00:01. The red glow of the numerals spilled over onto the holographic projection of the river ahead of the ship, mixing softly with the navigation markers, contact indicators, and pitch lines.
The comms officer spoke quietly into his headset as the Captain fixed his gaze on the central holotank's comprehensive Area of Operations map.
"East River Traffic, Navy DDG 3257, Indianapolis. Priority Alert; Navigation Restrictions are in effect for grid C-11 as of now. Repeat; No-entry red-level restriction is hereby issued on Navy authority for C-11. Acknowledge."
A red translucent cube appeared in the center of the holotank, surrounding the destroyer, and extending all the way out to shore on both sides, a half mile up and down-river, and vertically from the riverbed all the way to 85,000 feet. As he listened for an affirmative from river traffic control, the comms officer continued to transmit.
"New York Center, Navy DDG 3257 Indianapolis. Priority Alert; TFR in effect for grids C-11, C-10, and C-9. Military traffic inbound. Repeat; No-entry red-level Total Flight Restriction is hereby issued on Navy authority for C-11, C-10, and C-9. Acknowledge."
A moment later, the officer turned and nodded to the Captain, as several more red cubes filled in on the holotank.
"Navigation restrictions entered and acknowledged. Traffic is moving to vacate. The AO will be clear in ninety seconds."
The CO nodded, and tightened his grip on the railing.
"Helm; Begin combat breach maneuver. Raise the boat."
The sound of enormous mechanical parts shifting blended together with a soft, but insistent klaxon.
"All hands, standby to breach. Brace, brace, brace."
The UES Indianapolis broke the surface in a cascade of gray-green water, looking like a nightmarish giant shark with its harsh angles and grey dazzle camo pattern hull, a distant but obvious descendant of the fierce Littoral Attack ships that had pioneered the hull configuration.
The instant the vessel was stable enough, two forward doors irised open and the first VTOL slid out into the hazy gray Manhattan morning. As the first craft made its exit, hatches all over the Indianapolis’s hull pulled back and a variety of railguns, missile ports, and Radar antennae bristled forth.
Each weapon revolved immediately to acquire track on the nearest civilian vessel, aircraft, and drone, ominously following the swiftly backpedaling vehicles until each exited the restricted zone around the Destroyer.
The second VTOL followed the first as soon as there was enough clearance, accompanied by an ear-splitting warning blast from the ship's horn.
Wrenn always wondered how the pilots managed to juggle swapping the flight mode and gliding out of a space only inches bigger than the tips of the vehicles' stubby wings. He didn’t like to dwell on it too long, he had entertained ambitions of becoming a pilot, but with his vision problems he knew no-one was ever going to let him near the controls of a flying machine.
He couldn’t even legally drive, his ‘optical enhancements’ were not street legal in spite of the fact that they qualified him to use a loaded weapon. Irony could, he reflected, be so very bitter sometimes.
The best Wrenn could hope for was a decent service career with some action to break up the boredom.
He had even considered ponification before finding out that one’s species was not guaranteed to have wings, and that most violent thought would be naturally suppressed.
He cradled his RAC fondly. It wasn’t that he particularly liked being Human, but he liked being able to pick a fight over the things that mattered. That was a quality he would never be willing to part with, not even in Equestria.
Equestria. The word was now synonymous with hope. No one, Equestrian or Human, knew how or why the two universes had collided. Some called it luck, some fate, some God.
The collision had changed everything. The bubble of space-time that made up the intersection with Equestria was steadily growing, consuming the local space of Earth and adding considerably to its own in the process. Even the Equestrian Royal Sisters, whose powers themselves were god-like, could neither offer explanation nor put a stop to the expansion. All that anyone knew, was that by the end Earth would be gone, and Equestrian universe would be orders of magnitude larger, the barren wastes of humanity’s home transformed into wild, untamed, uncharted verdant landscapes.
Humans, and any synthetic material of their making, could not survive a trip into the bubble.
Wrenn had once seen a holo-vid of an experimental attempt to pass a monomolecular nano-fiber rod through the barrier. It had instantly and violently dissolved into its most basic atomic components.
Initially the revelation had caused panic. Wrenn could remember, as young man, watching newscasts of the EarthGov debates; 'Should we fire weapons at the barrier?' 'Attempt another quantum wave propagation experiment?' 'Evacuate the planet somehow?'
The first two options had been swiftly ruled out. Wrenn doubted very much that a nuclear strike would have even scratched the barrier, and another quantum experiment was like playing with fire. Begging for disaster.
Then the Equestrians had stepped up and offered a hoof in friendship. As Humanity respected their penchant for peace and unity, they respected humanity’s inventive genius and economic prowess. Both shared a substantial dose of perseverance in common, and the Ponies set to work trying to help humanity in any way they could.
They exported food for the starving masses, offered magical knowledge, and some even emigrated to Earth to help out in any way they could.
They had first tried magic.
The introduction of such a fantastic concept to the world had left Wrenn, like many others, stunned in awe and wonderment. Unfortunately for humanity the magic of Equestria only had limited effects in the space-time of Earth. There was still no realistic way to reclaim the un-arable soil, or repair the sky.
Wrenn figured it wouldn’t have mattered anyhow, even the Royal Sisters couldn’t stop the bubble's expansion, so any land saved would still ultimately be consumed.
It seemed Humanity was doomed to tragically watch as a paradise they could never inhabit swallowed their whole existence.
Then a joint group of Equestrian magicians and Earth scientists made a world shaking announcement; They had devised a solution, and the solution was Conversion.
Programmable nano-particles and Thaumatics working in beautiful scientific harmony. Ponification Serum.
One plastic cup’s worth of the purple goo, colloquially called potion, would turn any human being into a healthy, happy Pony. Instinct for passivity, predilection for friendliness, and all.
The revelation had generated polarizing debate, especially when it was discovered that newfoals would lose much of their capability for strong violence. Some attacked Conversion, accusing the Equestrians of robbing Humanity of their free will. Wrenn could vividly recall the severity of the riots in his home city of Phoenix.
Eventually the masses had been calmed. Newfoals didn’t loose their inventive and expansionist human spirit, a testament to the retention of sentience. Nevertheless, factions of the government still took sides, and new organizations of terrorists had sprung into being advocating both positions.
Some, like the Human Liberation Front, would go to extreme lengths to put an end to Ponification. It had taken a major effort on the part of EarthGov’s now relatively small, but sophisticated military to keep their hands off WMDs for so long.
Others, like the PER, believed that the perceived lack of choice in humanity’s future entitled them to make the choice on behalf of others. It was right in the name; Ponification for Earth’s Rebirth, a credo they took extremely literally. Their entire methodology revolved around forced conversion. The tension and fear created by the possibility of being robbed of one’s choice was not helping to ease Humanity’s transition.
As far as Wrenn was concerned, there shouldn’t be a debate.
One could choose to opt out of ponification, but unless they were already in their mid nineties, or put faith in the Genesist sleeper ship project, they were likely to be forced to make the final choice one day. Convert or die.
Ponies and Humans, and many of the other Equestrian species, had one thing in common; Free will. The choice, in Wrenn’s eyes, was a fraught but ultimately individual issue that should be left to each person to deal with in their own way, and on their own time. Legal Incentives and disincentives were ultimately acceptable in the Lieutenant's mind, as long as everyone still had a choice in the end.
Still, for anyone who wanted to survive the final collapse of Earth’s space-time into Equestria it wasn’t a question of ‘if’ but ‘when’ they would have to convert, as far as Wrenn was concerned.
The thought troubled him, but he supposed that when the time came he would have it all worked out. If his job didn't take him first.
“Sat vision 18, initial vectors received. Nestor-1 has point.” The words brought Wrenn back to reality. The pilot carried on a brief conversation with Central Command and the Indianapolis’s LADAR Operator before signing off and following the first VTOL at a respectable distance.
Both gunships sported quite an array of sophisticated armaments, but their agility was severely hobbled deeper in the city due to the towering mega-skyscrapers that took up most of the space, hence the need to transfer to a maglev.
Whatever Wrenn’s team was carrying was valuable to the Bureau, which meant it was also logically important to the PER and HLF.
Both groups had shown themselves capable of destroying armed government property and overcoming significant risks to get their hands on potion, which was what Wrenn figured was in the yellow and gray 3 foot by 5 foot titanium/carbide strongbox that was ‘the package.’
He had transported potion crates before, but most had been red or purple, designating special hypoallergenic, and traditional potion respectively. 'The Package,' looked like it had an extra set of biometric access denials on the touch panel.
It also lacked any symbols besides the universal bio-hazard sigils, which Wrenn found telling. Most potion crates bore the Earthgov Ministry of Chemical Science stamp, the Royal Equestrian Crest, a shipping number, bar-code, and the symbol for ponification serum.
Wrenn was sitting with the crate to his right. One squad-mate was taking co-pilot seat, the other two manning door guns. Wrenn could recall their names, ranks, call-signs, service numbers, and service records; And he still knew nothing about them.
He had been a fairly social person before the attack that took his eyes, but since his recovery he couldn’t remember the last time he had a truly substantial conversation that wasn’t mission related.
The attack itself was far less to blame than the person behind it. Wrenn banished that line of thought back to its own metaphorical locked crate. Emotions of that sort had no place on a high stakes mission.
He turned his sonar on the hustle and bustle below. The outer fringes of Manhattan still had maneuvering room for the VTOL, but only just. They couldn’t be far from the station.
Below a great many Humans, and some Ponies, went about their daily lives, barely sparing a glance for the vehicles above carrying enough tonnage of armament to wipe out three city blocks in under eight seconds. Resolution 22. It had happened when Wrenn was just entering the military.
The PER had launched a big Christmas Day attack on Trafalgar Square. In the blink of an eye 4,128 people had lost their Humanity, and not all of them came to terms with it well. Earthgov had used the panic to pass ‘22 and give itself the right to deploy the military whenever it wanted, wherever it wanted, and however it wanted.
Nobody had complained, everyone was too afraid of either the PER or HLF, or run of the mill terrorists to argue. Everyone had gotten used to seeing armed troops here and there, with frightening speed, and very little complaint.
A female voice cracked through his earpiece, “Nestor-2, Nestor-1. We’re doing a circle pass on LZ, hang back to be cleared.”
Wrenn felt the not-so-subtle change in direction and speed in his stomach. The pitch of the engines’ whine rose and the VTOL entered the second most dangerous phase of the mission. While hovering they were a barely moving target, and when they moved in to land it would be even worse. They would have no room for evasive action at all.
An attack in the landing zone wouldn’t just kill the squad, it would probably kill half the people on the station platform below, despite the fact that they were behind police cordons.
“Nestor-2, Nestor-1; LZ is clear, proceed with caution. Hand-off team has arrived and will be waiting for you on the concrete. Good luck Wrenn.”
Wrenn tapped his mic, “Thanks, you too. Stay frosty.”
He raised his RAC-7 and checked the magazine. Safety on. Too many civilians present to be twitchy with the rifle. The VTOL touched down with a jarring thud, and almost instantly two large figures darted forward and hefted the crate between them. It took Wrenn a full three seconds to process these newcomers.
Gryphons.
Wrenn had heard stories, mostly rumors, about the other races of Equestria. Out of all the myriad life on that world, Gryphons had held his fascination the most. But so few had visited Earth-Proper that he’d never seen one in person. Just a couple long distance holo-images the press managed to snap.
Meeting one was a top-ten bucket-list item for the lieutenant.
Wrenn dropped from the VTOL and dashed to keep up with the two male Gryphons. One was speckled gray, black, and white, the other was a shade of burnished gold. Both had large rifles at their sides, both had swords, and both wore some kind of steel plate armor that looked almost medieval in concept, but had clearly been upgraded with an energy diffusion matrix. The telltale hexagon pattern in the metal showed when the light caught it right.
“You’re the hand-off team?” Wrenn asked, unable to keep a touch of awe out of his voice.
The speckled Gryphon motioned to himself, “Kephic,” then pointed a single talon at his comrade, “Varan. You’re the soldier who insisted on seeing the crate through?”
Wrenn nodded, “I don’t ever let mission criticals out of my sight, not until the mission is over.”
Kephic nodded, as if he understood all too well. Varan’s face bore a look of resignation, as if he too understood, but considered Wrenn more a liability than a help.
The lieutenant decided that he probably was a liability compared to the two Gryphons. They were large, incredibly strong, and must have in his estimation, insanely good eyesight and better hearing than a human. For speed and reflexes he didn’t know, very few probably did, but Wrenn was willing to bet they made homo sapiens look obsolete on the battlefield.
“Plan?” Wrenn asked, sweeping the crowd with his eyes as Kephic and Varan set the crate down at the platform’s edge.
Kephic had to raise his voice slightly to be heard clearly over the VTOL’s backwash as it took off again, “Varan and I will keep a hold on the package at all times, you provide an extra set of eyes. Nothing more.”
Varan chimed in, “Also, preferably avoid getting yourself killed on our watch.”
As he scanned the crowd Wrenn noted their reactions with interest. The majority had never seen a Gryphon, and a plurality had only vaguely heard of them. The sight of the magnificent creatures in Manhattan was clearly causing a stir.
Wrenn was willing to bet there would be at least a couple hundred videos posted to the internet about it. Practically everyone alive had a next-gen DaTab with built in imager, sat-link, and holo-display.
Maglevs were almost soundless at a distance, but judging by Kephic and Varan’s change of posture, they could hear the train coming. As he predicted, the sound reached Wrenn’s ears several seconds later, and a black two car armored maglev whisked smoothly into the station.
The doors popped open with a hiss and a snap.
The train disgorged several Humans clad in urban combat armor with sub-machine railguns and ConSec emblems on their shoulders. Following them another Gryphon and a Pony.
ConSec was the Conversion Bureau's catchall security, investigation, and Potion defense wing. The newcomer Gryphon was colored mostly in roan tones, and wearing armor exactly like Kephic and Varan. The Pony accompanying him was slate gray, with a black mane and green eyes that offset the Gryphons’ fierce gold ones startlingly.
No introductions were made, the crate was simply hoisted into the armored train car as fast as possible, after which everyone dutifully filed in.
The train's doors snapped shut, and it set off with a low hum. The maglev accelerated far more quickly than the usual passenger train, reaching its top city-safe speed of 130 mph in seconds. Wrenn and the other Humans had to brace themselves, but the Gryphons and Pony didn’t seem to mind.
Wrenn noticed with a start that Kephic and the new Gryphon were now standing on their hind legs, working on the crate’s biometric console. Apparently they could walk and work just as easily in a bipedal configuration as a quadrupedal one. Wrenn was deeply impressed; He wondered just how many hidden benefits such an ambipedal configuration afforded in combat.
After Kephic and the other Gryphon finished verifying that the crate hadn’t been tampered with, they settled down next to the opposite side doors. The ride would be about five minutes long, and then they would be more or less finished.
Wrenn turned to Varan, who was manning a spot by the door closest to him, “So. Done this before?”
Varan nodded curtly, “Repeatedly. Though never with cargo quite this valuable. You?”
Wrenn nodded, “Repeatedly. Though never with cargo quite this mysterious.”
Varan chuckled dryly, “And I wager if you knew what was in there, you would say the cargo was the most valuable you had ever defended.”
Wrenn shook his head, “Nah. At the end of the day its just a crate. I’ve had to escort people out of bad spots before. Civilians are the most valuable cargo.”
Wrenn couldn’t tell if Varan’s expression was curiosity, respect, or a mixture thereof, but at least it wasn’t contempt. The train sped on in uncomfortable silence. The space had not been designed for so many larger-than-Human life forms, much less Gryphons, a Pony, and humans in armor cohabiting with a bulky crate.
Wrenn was about to screw up the social courage to ask the new Gryphon his name, when Kephic dove from across the train and splayed his wings in Wrenn’s face. The lieutenant just had a tenth of a second to notice that all the Gryphons were wearing some kind of armor on the jointing of their wings, before the entire world burst into color, sound, motion, and pain.
Wrenn regained his senses in a heap.
Kephic was now standing over him discharging his large rifle in precise bursts. Wrenn noticed, dully, that each shot was accompanied by a scream, or the sound of shredding metal and fabric.
That begged the question of who he was shooting at, and why, and that brought Wrenn back around like a bucket of cold water.
He began to drag himself to his feet. The blazing wreckage of the Maglev was strewn around him, along with the prone bodies of two of the human ConSec officers. The crate lay between him, Kephic, and Varan who was taking cover behind part of the elevated track that had come down, in what Wrenn was quickly realizing, had been a sizable explosion.
The roan Gryphon seemed busy setting up shop with an enormous Rail-Snipe up on one of the elevated track stanchions that hadn’t given way.
The Pony was nowhere to be seen.
One of the remaining ConSec officers shouted “Contact Rear!” But before he could even finish, an ear-splitting crack rang out from the Gryphon with the Rail-Snipe, and Wrenn just had time to whirl and watch a dark armored figure four blocks away get its head pulped by the hyper-sonic force of the railgun round.
Wrenn remembered his own weapon and checked it for signs of damage. Mercifully Kephic’s quick action had saved not only him, but the rifle.
He raised the RAC and swept his field of view. He spotted a figure dashing between buildings with something suspiciously like a grenade and let off a burst. The figure dropped, and a moment later the area shook with a small thud as the grenade he had primed went off in his lifeless hand.
Wrenn turned back and swept the other side of the street. There were a few panicked civilians milling about, most of the road traffic in the area had been arrested by the falling train tracks, and amongst the chaos dark figures in combat armor darted back and forth squeezing off shots at anyone and anything that wasn’t them.
“Who are these guys?!” Wrenn shouted as he raked a dumpster with cover fire. Varan popped off a single shot and downed the figure that had been hiding behind the green metal cube, “Battle now, queries later!”
Wrenn fell to providing cover fire. The Gryphons almost never missed, their accuracy was simply mind blowing. All Wrenn and the ConSec officers had to do was keep the opposition as harried as possible.
The tide quickly began to turn. Spurts of gunfire got fewer and further between.
Wrenn was almost ready to believe that it was over, until a man in ordinary civilian clothing grabbed a mother and small child who had been taking cover with him, and dragged them out into the middle of the road.
“Stop! Or I blow us all sky high!” he shouted. Wrenn could just make out a deadman’s switch in the man’s right hand.
All activity ceased. Any one of the Gryphons could have shot the man without chance of harming the mother and son, but nobody was close enough to stop the explosives the man was potentially wearing under his coat from annihilating them an instant later.
The man threw down the mother and held the son in a choke-hold with the arm he was using to depress the deadman switch. With his other hand he drew a small pistol. “Here's how it plays out! You give us the crate, and we will walk away without hurting anyone else. Deal?!”
Wrenn glanced at Kephic, and muttered, “Keep him talking.”
The look the speckled Gryphon gave him was probably supposed to root him in his tracks, but Wrenn was too high on adrenaline to care. He started to edge around behind the shattered hulk of the train, out of sight of the bomber, as Kephic spoke.
“No chance human, we won’t hesitate to make sacrifices to protect that box.”
Wrenn winced. The provocative words were not the kind of ‘keep him talking’ he had been referring to, but thankfully the bomber seemed to want very much to live through the ordeal. Wrenn was counting on that.
“No no no featherbrains, *I* make the stipulations, *you* acquiesce, or innocents die.”
Kephic smirked, or at least Wrenn figured the Gryphon was smirking was from his tone.
“What makes you think I care about two members of your species?”
The bomber shuffled as he shouted back. Wrenn was close enough to hear the feverish breathing of the young boy now.
“Because I know your kind has a code. A code of honor. And you won’t let them die.”
Wrenn stood up, speaking as he moved. “He won’t have to.”
He launched himself forward and prayed he was right.
The bomber turned, raising his pistol, and squeezed off a shot. Wrenn was dimly aware of a piercing pain in his shoulder, but he put it aside as he collided with the man, knocking the young boy out of his arms. All that mattered to Wrenn was putting his thumb on the kill switch.
He batted at the man with his right gauntlet, catching him in the face with the sharp edge, and mashed his left hand down over the man’s right with such force he could feel the him wince.
“NOW NOW NOW!” Wrenn vaguely heard himself shout, then from somewhere a muffled crack, and the bomber went limp in his arms. Wrenn barely managed to hang on to consciousness long enough to hand off the deadman switch to the roan Gryphon, and then darkness hit him like a ton of bricks.
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Dang. I was gonna do something along these lines but with Diamond Dogs... Either way, I really like the premise, and so far its great! Keep it going!
That's not good...
Issac seems like a cool guy, and great battle scene!
Sweet jesus. This is great. Celestia's not a total ass, and that battle was AMAZING! The technology is plausible enough to not break suspension of disbelief, and the characters are very well written. I need moar.
Yay, is good, author is not a complete doo-doo head!
me gusta
632291 Ain't read this yet but hey I'll volunteer to be a prereader for ya.
wait that means I'm actually going to have to read it
but I gave up TCB
oh well
Whoa.
Faving. Liking. Don't let this die.
World building, I want more of it. It is simply excellent.
632291
I could do some proofreading for you, to at least polish it up to a format that's easier on the eye.
If you wanted to make this chapter more effective, (on its own and in contrast to later chapters) one way would be to focus on telling the story and describing things through Wrenn's eyes. Yes, the fake ones. This would mean very limited color description unless the subject was next to him, and add detail on how he tells the difference between attackers and civilians via how they move. (Perhaps his prosthetic vision includes something that incorporates IFF transponders worn by the other security types) To put it another way, make Kansas black and white, so the fact that Oz is in color is a bigger shift.
You've already touched on a number of points I wanted to include in my own TCB fic idea, and I'm really interested to see where you go with this.
Okay, that description? Hooked. Totally saving for later.
I've found that these days, I'll typically put a new story I'm interested in "on watch", and wait for a few more chapters before I commit to the "Favorites" click.
Not this one. This one goes on the gold-star list right away. Very interesting start here.
You've got me intrigued. Also, it's spelled "prologue."
The Conversion Bureau: Unoriginality is Magic
For some reason, I see the PER as the stereotype CB writer. The HLF is, of course, the stereotype anti-brony.
633864 That was uncalled for. In some ways I agree though, the concept of gryphon converts into alien to the conversion universe.
For critique, there's one MAJOR rule you should mind when writing paragraphs: Every time a different character speaks... start a new paragraph. I'm guessing it was a mistake, but just letting you know. (You should probably go back and fix that)
Also might want to double check paragraph spacing, it will make your fic look a lot cleaner.
Hope to see more, your story has a good start.
And now chapter 2...
I think whether I like the way your story goes and keep reading it or not doesn't matter. Either way you're getting a thumbs up for it being well written, original, and originally well written. The CB genre doesn't deserve the kindness you've done it with your story here. You're cutting it close by including the 'loss of aggression' that most hate the CB concept for, but you're doing well just by acknowledging that it is a loss; you did a great job in laying out a doomed world but not railing on humanity for it; you presented both terror groups well as equally bad because of their methods and not their ideal, specifically the PER, showing who exactly you don't wish to side with and why; you've shown resentment by former humans whose choice was removed; you've presented Celestia as not being an all powerful goddess of humanity's destruction and not a total ass, but instead showed her some nervousness and apprehension. You've done quite a bit right.
Simply put, you made a CB story that defies the genre but still cares for it. We're all tired of the hate for humanity but I don't think we needed another parody of the genre (though Shader did a nice job with Still Human). We needed a reboot. So thanks. As someone who started reading these fics with an interest in the premise, only to be angered by their fairly immature attitude, I'm glad to finally take an interest again.
Now I'm curious how far the world building will go. I've always felt that the CB stories would benefit from a former human, with whom we can more easily relate, seeing the wonders the fantasy world might hold beyond Ponyville and Canterlot. Sadly they all seem to focus on earth more. Chatoyance is the only one who has delved into the Equestrian world, but of course there was a significant lack of imagination in all those fics but Teacup (which if you ignore the misanthropy was actually a little sweet, but I feel the author went downhill from there on). She completely killed any interest in the fantasy world by revealing it to be artificial in its construction and lacking in any real history, and here I am whining about Chatoyance again. Speaking of this genre always sets me off.... Hmph. Anyway, back to my point, I hope it's not expecting too much for this story to eventually show us a slice of griffon culture first hand and get us off the dying rock of CB earth. That's all I really want more of from writers, some decent exploration of the unknown.
Now I'm thinking of an even more simple summary of your fic: It's a Conversion Bureau but not a Chatoyance, and it takes pride in both those fact.
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hey, I did this link about two-three weeks ago
in normal circumstances I wouldn't read a story with Gryphons in it as a main premise....... but you actually made them sound not like Complete jerks... interesting, tracking
and those who read a TCB story before KNOW what will happen to Wrenn...
Gryphons will respond to his act of courage, give him the new serum and *hop* first Gryphon convert, and it WILL be close enough to that if not directly that
Gah! Holy Comments-Batman!
Let me see if I can cover these by subject:
The PER and HLF: Definitely bad guys for the reasons stated above. Neither is meant to come off as overly sympathetic. You're meant to see where they're coming from, and understand how/why someone might become polarized to their viewpoint, and even sympathize with the situation of some individuals, or respect some of their arguments...
...but in the end they're both still doing the wrong things for the wrong reasons, and there's no question about it.
(The interesting bit comes from the variance in the way they are organized, the way they are lead, and the way they go about perpetrating attacks)
The World (Earth/Equestria): Its going to feel like I spend alot of time on Earth. That's because a large chunk of the main good/vs/bad plot has its initial threads here. Those threads absolutely positively do lead to Equestria though, where I have every intention of delving into many things including;
)
*Past Equestrian history (of several species)
*The potential future ramifications of the events we've seen so far (no cookie cutter 'And Equestria was the same... foreeeeeverrrrrrr
*Gryphon culture, art, science, leadership, warfare, and their changing relationship to the other species (Ponies in particular)
*The true nature of our as yet unseen big bad hidden hand (and that is ALL I will say on that matter for fear of spoilers)
My current plan for easing this out into something more interesting and less polar is to take the story to Equestria earlier, follow some threads there, then bring it back to Earth for a stint, before returning to Equestria.
Plans change though, no promises. Sometimes a story writes itself and its hard to argue with it, even when you buy it a nice cup of coffee and talk it out.
Ponies and Conflict/Violence: As mentioned in a blog somewhere, and alluded to in the story in several forthcoming spots, this is not being played 100% straight. Its a vast decrease in the scale of conflict and violence in the psyche, but a Pony can still go to war if provoked. They just hate it, and their heart will never be fully in it all the time. A single act of (even lethal) defiance to save a threatened family member? Completely plausible, and extremely probable. And like all beings lashing out to save what they love, their heart would be in that action. Woe to those who threaten a Pony's family sufficiently.
(Theres a nice upcoming conversation between Wrenn and a Pony where they cover alot of this. 'You can't just make friends?' 'You can't just shoot somebody?')
Wrenn's Conversion: You probably can all see this coming, but I'm not headed into overly tropish territory yet. Yes the Gryphons respond to his act of bravery, but I wanted that to lead to more than just 'suddenly rewards' in the style of a game; instead its meant to lead to friendships which make the calling in of favors and pulling of strings more plausible. And just when that is about to happen, suddenly problems. Because nothing can ever be that easy. Or to put it another way, I have 30,000 words down (all told counting description, prologue, ch1, etc) and the Conversion is still another 4 to 8k words away at least. Some 'stuff' happens.*
(*stuff may or may not include alot of gunfire, jumping out of VTOLs onto buildings, blowing things up, a weaponless melee duel in combat armor, and a dash of political fisticuffs to ice the cake. Stay tuned.)
634305 So that explains my feelings to see the world covered in a thick layer of potion.
Me likey. I love the aggressive and crazy PER and HLF, I'm believing in your gryphons (I actually play them similarly) and will be following this one and wily yet caring Celestia tweaks my buttons. Keep it coming!
Dibs on the dragons, though.
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The implication, which perhaps I should re-enforce as things progress, is that Celestia is arbitrating between Gryphons and humanity. So the discussions they're having should be seen in light of the fact that some agreements have already been forged on mutually agreeable terms between Equestria and Earth.
I'd also point out the line about how Celestia was to mediate a summit, on Earth, between the Gryphons and humans. So the accords we have now (created offscreen between prolouge and CH-1) were just as much on humanity's terms as Gryphons'.
635808
Hehehe I think I have my claws full with Gryphons, so the Dragons are aaaalll on you. :p
(I'm a firm believer in noble-yet-wily-lestia )
So glad to see a Cb story NOT dripping with cynicism and misanthropy.
There's SO much I could say about ponies RE: violence, it's hard to sort them down to something I can quickly type up... But my feeling is that ponies are more comfortable with dying to protect that which they love, than killing to protect it.
But killing, in any military context, is much more than the deed itself, there's planning it, and the effects on the psyche afterwards. Training humans to be psychologically ready to kill strangers is non-trivial, and far too many combat veterans are afflicted with PTSD. I'm guessing that finding ponies ready to serve in combat is hard, and the wounds done by killing are deeper for them as well.
I can see the Pony military providing mostly logistic/medical support for the griffin military, which would handle more of the combat duties.
If that whole loss of atmosphere thing cuz of using the thingy on the wrong day happened when I was around, i'd call super fucking bullshit.
Gryphons..... better than Humans in almost every way? Do we take people hostage to deal with Gryphons? Hell no, we get in there and we kick some ass!
So XenoCide is O-kay.*HEADBASH* No Matter the reason.Xenocide is ALWAY WRONG.Think Kill or Make Non-exist Whole Race or species IS WRONG.im sorry but it COLD HARD TURTH.How could Justfia it Is Just Byond me because There no way
As far as I know that would also increase the gravity of the planet.
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Correct! If Equestria were a planet.
There's more going on there than what you see at first-glance.
Or to put it another way:
A Halo, or a Dyson Sphere are not the only kinds of mega-structures you can build that function as a habitable planet-like space
You'd also think Earth's gravity would be decreased over time, but the way the process works, the gravitational energy isn't being subtracted, but rather maintained as a space-time 'debt' or displacement. When Earth finally goes poof, that debt comes due, and it will throw the solar system, and anything within 10 AU into absolute chaos gravitationally, and temporally, for years to come.
So yeah, Conversion Bureau but with a twist on matters.
In this instance it is simply a matter of 'Can't make it stop'. Granted unless theres a hidden agenda thats all it should be.
It's rarely that simple.
Oookay, so far so good. Not really into all that militaristic stuff, but the setting requires it. Also, gosh, even though I was late to all that pony hype bandwagon, one if my own entry point was TCB, so it's nostalgic even for me : )
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The potentially bad news for you is; There is a lot of military/sci-fi stuff in these stories. It's something I definitely enjoy writing and I lean into plenty of it. What can I say? I adore Halo, and XCOM. If you don't absolutely outright hate reading that component of it, you should find other things to enjoy in it, hopefully.
The good news is that I have plenty of other interests; There is also a lot of character/relationship material, political intrigue, fantasy adventure on the Equestrian side of things, and in general plenty of other threads besides the military sci-fi ones for the interested reader.
And of course, there's the nostalgia. Love some good nostalgia!
oh...This is a TCB fic. How disappointing. If you, the author, can point me to the chapter explaining why tech fails and all that I'll give this a 3rd chance (3rd because attempt 1 failed at the prologue which confused me), but for now this is a no-go as I really dislike convert or die stories unless a solid reason is given. I'd rather be spoiled early but have my fears appeased rather than sink days into something that never gets better.
Right now this is a solidly average 5/10 fic because it looks well written, but I despise the original TCB story and this is looking like a less malicious retread of that story. Actually I despise most FiO-verse stories for the same reason. The originals set in stone that humanity is dead and gone and any impact we may have had is lost forever, all knowledge and culture forever lost and unrecreatable.
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I'll summarize here, because much of this is covered throughout different chapters - too scattered for me to collate links. But no spoiler to say that these stories are their own universe, very much inspired by TCB, but also by a lot of other things. You'll see familiar bits and pieces, but it is a rather different take that is its own reality, and it is best to approach this trilogy as self-contained.
I break, bend, or remake a lot of rules and plot points from traditional TCB fics. Ponies may be predisposed to non-violence, but can absolutely develop a taste for it, as one example.
First point to make; Technology doesn't fail outright, but there are physics limitations in Equestria that prevent Converts from immediately spinning up equivalent tech over there. They are not such hard limitations that technology is never going to adapt, it just means extra time and effort is required to retool anything that uses electricity as a base.
By book 2 we're seeing Thaumatic/Silicon/Crystal hybrid mainframe computers in use. Rare, but powerful. Inevitably, far smaller/more portable systems will be developed and become ubiquitous.
By the middle of book 3 we're going to be starting to see more electricity use over there, repeating weapons, magnetic rail-weapons, alloy armor, radio usage, etc. The general theory of why is that the Equestrian universe is much more magic saturated, and that plays havoc with electricity in general, requiring everyone to invent new insulators, among other things.
Nuclear fusion and fission also don't work to the same degree, rendering traditional nuclear power generation, or weapons, non-operable over there. On the flipside, there are ways to marry Human understandings of quantum physics, nuclear theory, antimatter production, and other science, to magic, to create whole new ways of computing, generating power, killing people, defending people, and producing goods.
Second point to make; Earth materials do not survive the transition across the Barrier very well. Most everything gets dusted. Very simple substances that are very dense can survive under the right conditions. This becomes a point in book 2 when an orbital rods-from-God weapon is used to puncture the Barrier. The general theory here is that Equestria is more complex/evolved at a quantum level. All of their matter is built with different subatomic building blocks that function just fine over here, and over there. Earth matter however is incompatible writ-large, which is why the Human body, same as any complex organism, or substance made from Earth materials, doesn't survive.
It eventually becomes a point in book 3 that if you transport Equestrian materials to Earth, use carefully sterilized clean-room manufacturing techniques on it, and then ship the resulting creations back to Equestria, that those constructs can survive re-entry. This will get used and abused by both good and bad factions for several years presumably post book 3.
Third point to make; I write from a somewhat pessimistic, anticapitalistic, collapse-aware standpoint. I think Human society has done a piss-poor job of taking care of this planet, and of Humanity itself. But I blame our economic systems, and our leaders, not the general Human self or spirit. I'm not misanthropic. A key plot point of the books is that Conversion is a symbiosis, marrying the best of Human ingenuity and spirit to more capable bodies that can survive in Equestria. Some of my Humans are pretty terrible bad guys. Some of my Equestrians too. Plenty of heroes from both sides of the Barrier as well. It's messy, very little is cut-and-dried. Even the Gryphons, who have pre-programmed morality, can do some fairly awful things in the name of 'doing the right thing' and following that morality to a merciless end.
It's also worth spoiling that a through-line to all three books is the Genesis project; A group of Humans, and Equestrians, who opt to build and fly FTL capable sleeper ships away from Earth, staying in our universe, and thus allowing the Human race to continue. There's not enough resources, time, or political will to save the entire Human race this way, but it does provide a way to save the species genetically speaking.
As well, there is the Human Archive Project; A huge cross-species endeavour to ensure Human art, literature, and culture is saved in its entirety, or near-as-can-be. This involves archiving everything digital Humanity has ever created, or stored/digitized, as well as making physical copies from-scratch with magic using Equestrian materials, of important Human physical works, especially art.
Though book 3 doesn't quite get to a point of showing it all off, the implication is meant to be that Human culture, technology, science, and history, as well as the Human spirit, really transform Equestria, bringing about not only significant conflict, but also a golden age of new advancements for everyone as science meets magic, and they become increasingly compatible, and interwoven.
Another point I'll 'spoil' is that, biologically speaking, Humans are so far behind in combat capability, that it takes genetic and cybernetic augmentation to make them a danger to Equestrians. Some readers don't like that, but I tend to view it like Halo; No Human would ever be a match unaugmented for an Elite. This also means that one of the political issues that later arises is fear of war between elements of the Human government, and some Equestrian races, with the predominant viewpoint being that Humans would lose, very badly, because of the massive biological combat capability disparity, the access Equestrians have gained to Human technology added to magic, and the fact that they have a much better, and unassailable home base from which to launch any offensive.
Final point would be to say that the main villain of this entire trilogy is an Equestrian. The main conflict is driven by an Equestrian species. The other Human and Equestrian villains are mostly being manipulated by the primary antagonist towards her end goals, so the final morals of the story do not paint Humans as some big final evil/ultimate aggressor, but rather as one of the most morally complex, unpredictable, and varied of the species, with lots of factions, and different messy choices made.
This rapid resonance between these two is so satisfying.
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A heck of a friendship in the making
I love Varan so much... He's just the littlest bit Vulcan.