The Conversion Bureau: Threshold

by Guardian_Gryphon

Chapter 6

Earth Calendar: 1/19/2102
16:52 GMT
Port of Madalena
The Azores

Cal's mood had improved marginally on the flight from the Carrier to the Pico Island forward command center. Thornton hadn't said a word the entire trip; a fact to which the blond agent credited the majority of the responsibility for her improvement.

As the VTOL's engines ground to a halt, Cal quickly leapt from the side door and took a few steps out onto the synth-grass lawn. She had, as far as she was concerned, spent more than enough time locked in tin cans with irritating people for one week.

As she scanned her surroundings, she immediately began to wish she could go back to the proverbial tin cans.

The view was a grim one; long snaking lines of tired, dirty, confused people snaking in and out of tents and temporary shelters. A constant stream of departing transport VTOLs filled the air with a droning hum, creating an oppressive sense of walls closing in around the agent.

In a few places, smoke rose above the towers of the city; a testament to ongoing riots, accidents, and failing machinery.

It didn't take Cal long to work past the noise just enough to notice the overbearing smell; the stench of unwashed bodies, fuel, smoke, and barely-restrained panic.

"Oh my god..." Cal turned to see that the tone of abject horror had belonged to Thornton. The scientist was standing, mouth agape, eyes swiftly glassing over as he witnessed a side of the world so alien that its implicit horror was magnified for him a thousandfold.

For the first time, Cal felt sorry for the man. Sorry enough that she didn't feel any satisfaction at seeing his smug, pampered, constantly entitled visage give way to shell shock; the horror unique to someone being shown the darker side of the human condition for the first time.

Konem silently trudged up to stand beside the pair, his visage only somewhat more stoic.

For a moment, the three simply did their best to adapt to their new surroundings. No one spoke, no one moved, and nothing interrupted their shocked musings.

Finally, Cal broke the increasingly heavy silence, her tone firm, cold, and self-assured, "All right. Lets get this done."

Konem nodded, Thornton shook himself before mimicking the gesture, "Ahhh right... yes... uhm... where are we going?"

Konem spoke up for the first time since leaving Yorktown, "We're supposed to be assigned a military escort." He inclined his head toward a large tent with the Earthgov Military flag raised on a temporary pole outside the entrance.

Cal dipped her head sharply, once, in acknowledgement, "Fine. Lets get this over with."

Puller was knee deep in mud when his radio put out the call for attention. The Colonel was beginning to hate the distinctive tri-tone of incoming calls with a burning passion; they always seemed to arrive at the worst conceivable times.

The small side-road his team was struggling against lay close to the coast; a seldom traversed utility route for all-terrain vehicles to access a small geological research station. The road had been drafted into service as a foot and vehicle path for evacuees from Santa Luzia; who were walking to the geological station across untamed terrain, then being ferried by transport to Madalena.

Puller, along with most of his team, had been conscripted off-hand to help free a trapped medical transport. The six wheeled armored vehicle had become mired in the sandy mud created by the near constant passage of vehicles and people over a road meant to handle less than a thousand vehicles seasonally.

The ground-based, angular, white vehicles were a modification of existing APCs, with railguns and troop harnesses removed in favor of a red cross emblem, and enough medical supplies to start a small hospital.

As Puller strained against the rear hatch, buying himself enough space to reach out and key on his earpiece, he reflected that the APC was a good metaphor for the situation; stuck in over their heads, even with military assets.

He grunted, and resumed pushing, his words turned more into groans akin to bending steel by the force of his effort, "Puller! What is it this damn time?!"

Lusis, who was busy rigging a pneumatic jack to one of the APC's real wheels, snickered, "We should call you pusher now..."

The Colonel gave him a glance that silenced him, before leaning into his earpiece, "Yep? Why is it my problem?"

He listened for several more seconds to the incoming stream of orders, while Koenig peeked around the back of the armored transport to see what the fuss was about. Luis just shrugged, and shook his head.

When the call concluded, Puller groaned and slowly extricated himself from the APC, "Allright, pile out guys. They said leave it. We have a new problem."

Firebrand clambered out of the vehicles open hatch, and offered a shrug to the disgruntled looking medtechs, "Sorry guys, looks like you need new rims." She turned to Puller, "Problem you say?"

The Colonel nodded and shrugged, "Babysitting."

Koenig groaned, "Political escort assignments are the most pointless..."

Puller interrupted, shaking his head, "Science geek actually. Supposedly here to figure out how bad the rift is going to get."

Luis snorted, "If you ask me, better to get the problem at hand solved before we go digging for the wrong kind of trouble."

Firebrand giggled, "Coming from you? That's like pearls of heavenly wisdom."

Luis smirked, "I can't help it if the chicas like a man with a little C4."

Puller put up a hand for silence, "Ours is not to ask 'why,' but to get done. Koenig; take Luis and put together a full hazmat set for us plus three other bodies. Firebrand; skids up in an hour, so be ready, they probably brought alot of scientific gear."

She nodded, "Hop skip and a jump for six, and assorted geekazoid boxes. Coming right up."

Luis glanced back over his shoulder as he and Koenig set off down the muddy road, "Got a date boss?"

Puller exhaled, "Yeah. I guess that does make me public relations." He stared down the road for a moment, pensively, "Well crap."

Equestrian Calendar: 2nd Month, 7th Day, Year 1002 PB (Post Banishment)
Three Hours After Nightfall
RES Ascendant with Royal Expeditionary Force
A Day and four hours' Journey South South-West of Canterlot

Flux entered the dining room with a sense of impending dread. He knew he was early, but his worst fears were confirmed when he discovered that only the Captain and two members of the kitchen staff were present. To Flux, it seemed a breach of etiquette to arrive before royalty, or for that matter diplomats.

He knew Luna, and to an even greater extent the Gryphons, would not be standing on ceremony; but that was a reprieve only in the technical sense as far as the Unicorn was concerned.

Before he could quietly excuse himself, however, the Captain noticed him and beckoned him over to the porthole, "Welcome! Come in, come in! 'S my ship, so its my dining hall; I don't mind early-comers. Its the late ones I can't abide."

Flux stepped forward cautiously, as if the deck under his hooves had suddenly turned to hot coals. He stammered weakly, "Th.. thank you. I don't know if her Majesty will feel the same..."

The captain snorted, "She's a puzzler that's for sure. But under all the glister, and the cold calculating surface, there is alotta empathy."

The Unicorn cocked his head, and gave the Captain a questioning glance, "You know the Princess?"

The Captain nodded, "You think the brass or the hobnobbers would want an old timer like me in charge of this boat? They wanted some young spry Wonderbolt dropout with no brains to match his speed."

Flux's eyes widened, "So Luna got you this position?"

The Captain nodded, "More than that; she saved my career. " He smiled at Flux and pointed a hoof at his rank orbs, "I nearly lost these for a decision I made. I thought it was the moral course, and my superior thought it was politically damaging. We were both right, and he wanted me stripped and discharged to cover his own tail. Celestia wouldn't hear of it, of course; she knows her nephew and his hooliganry all too well... but the mark of scandal is harder to erase than a cutie mark. I got pulled back to an 'administrative post.' "

The captain snorted and shook his head, "Wasn't until Luna was looking for a veteran officer for this position that the issue came to Royal notice again. She got me out from behind a desk, and back behind a tiller again."

Flux stared out the porthole contemplating the tale. Everything he heard and saw of Luna only increased his admiration, and curiosity, with regard to the night-ruler, "The ways of a goddess..."

The Captain chuckled, "Goddess? Hah! No... Powerful? Yes. A Ruler and leader? yes. Kind? Visibly and definitely. A divine being? Not even close."

Flux gaped in horror; the words seemed brazen to the point of blasphemy in his eyes.
The Captain, noting his expression, laughed all the louder, "Well don't take *my* word for it if you're so surprised; ask her yourself. Ask either of their highnesses; they'll tell you from their own mouths. Alicorns are just folk like the rest of us... only more powerful by a bit. You don't worship them Gryphons just 'cause they can move faster than you can think a thought do ya?"

Flux shook his head, "But an Alicorn is a different story..."

The Captain cocked his head and glared, "Why? Just 'cause they have more magic and longer lives than the rest of us? Lemme tell you something you should already know from your high-intellect studies; a Dragon's got more magic in their littlest scale than Celestia and Luna do in their entire bodies. Seen it myself enough times to know its true."

Flux stared in continued horror, "Then... what do you..?"

"Believe?" The captain shrugged, "As far as I'm concerned, if there's a god, or goddess, or more 'n one of em,' I'll be happy to accord 'em due respect the moment they ask for it to my face. 'S far as I know, its still our right, each of us, to choose what we believe. Whether its right or wrong? Don't s'pose we're likely to know till the end of life's voyage. Gryphons have their one Allmighty God, some of us four-hoofed folk like you believe in Celestia and Luna, 'few worship Discord, and still more believe in the older 'Pantheons.' The Buffalo think the world itself lives and breathes... and Dragons? Well... that's one o' life's mysteries I never did pin down. Their beliefs are a shade too messy for my simple thoughts."

Flux inclined his head in agreement with the latter statement; his interest in Draconic culture had largely stagnated when he reached their religious beliefs; they were too strange and complicated for even the scientist to fully grasp, and it didn't help that there wasn't a single written codice of their faith. The Gryphons at least had that much, even if it seemed utterly alien to Flux's eyes.

Almost as if in synchronization with his thoughts, Brelik and Sildinar arrived. The tawny Gryphon jerked his head at the table jovially, "You treat your guests well captain!"

Flux followed the Gryphons' gaze to note that the servers had thoughtfully placed a few well cooked meat dishes at the avian beings' places. The gesture was minimal, but very thoughtful. Most Pony chefs balked at even discussing the concept of meat preparation. It was a wonder the cook had been able to deep fry even a few small shrimp.

The Captain smiled, "Least I could do. I've worked a bit with you and yours before, and I sorta got used to the sight of meat eating, 'long as its downed civilly and decently."

Brelik chuckled, "Not to worry. We are a practical culture, but not an uncourteous one."

Sildinar chuckled, "Most of the time, at any rate. Its hard to account for all the differences sometimes. We don't stand on ceremony and procedure very often."

Flux couldn't help himself, "From what I've studied most of your ceremonies and rituals are limited to highly significant occasions, and bear some sort of correlation to historical practice as well as a level of practicality..." The Unicorn cut himself off, blushing at his interruption.

Sildinar, however, smiled, "I see you are possessed of a fine memory, and broad tastes."

Brelik chuckled, "Not quite broad enough for the shrimp, I suspect."

Flux shook his head meekly. The black Gryphon laughed, his booming voice shaking the room, "Oh don't fret. I don't think any among my kind could hold it against you. Your stomachs and hearts simply weren't made for meat."

Flux nodded, regaining some of his courage, "And we're content with that."

The Captain smirked, "Admit it; you Gryphons have even developed a taste for our apples."'

Sildinar nodded, "Oh I'm not ashamed to admit it; and my father has picked up the habit from me to say the least. Proof that the rumors are just that. We do buy and sell something besides strong blades."

Brelik raised an eyebrow, "Given the choice, I prefer the blades."

The Captain's raucous laughter was cut short by the arrival of Luna herself. Her very presence seemed to create a greater contrast of light and shadow in the room, as she silently and gracefully stepped into the space without making so much as a hoof-tap of a noise.

The Captain bowed slightly; a formal gesture of respect. Flux nearly went into a complete prostration, before realizing that he was caught in an embarrassing contrast to the more pragmatic gesture of the captain, and the still more spartan inclined heads of the Gryphons.

As he scrambled to rise, Flux tensed; it still didn't sit well with him that two of the beings in the room wouldn't even bow to the moon goddess, and a third thought here nothing more than a long-lived mortal of unusual wisdom and power.

Luna seemed completely unaffected by the contrast of the various displays, merely tilting her head slightly in acknowledgement of their occurrence before speaking, "Shall we dine?"

Inwardly Flux groaned; a loose-cannon Captain, two carnivorous predatory Diplomats, and a Goddess who had once played host to the ultimate evil; around the same dinner table.

What could possibly go wrong?

Earth Calendar: 1/19/2102
17:28 GMT
Port of Madalena
The Azores

Hutch allowed himself a final moment of relative comfort and simplicity, took a deep breath, and strode purposefully over to the three most out-of-place people in the tent. Everyone else was busy with their assigned tasks, but the three figures, garbed neither in military nor bedraggled civilian clothing, but clean street clothes, were seated idly on a crate.

As their eyes turned to fix on him he noted, with a tentative sense of relief, that the two agents had possessed the foresight to equip themselves with light body armor.

The sensation of hope that the three guests might show some tactical competency was cut brutally short by the realization that the third figure, doubtless the scientist, was wearing a casual suit. And formal shoes.

Puller stopped short and stared, his shocked mental pause only interrupted by the arrival of a gloved feminine hand in his field of vision, and a voice to accompany it, "You must be our escort."

The colonel shook himself, and took another moment to size up the woman in front of him; blond, lithe, tall, no nonsense expression. Small but powerful military grade rail-pistol sidearm, an unusual and militaristic choice for a bodyguard. Light combat armor, cinched tight and properly seated.

As George reached out to shake the proffered hand, he decided he liked the woman; she seemed possessed of some true experience in the field. That was going to make his job significantly easier.

She gestured to herself, her partner, and their charge in sequence, "I'm Agent Calton, this is Agent Konem, and Doctor Thornton."

Puller nodded, and reached forward to shake Agent Konem's hand; the man looked slightly 'green' to Puller, but his bearing indicated he had a good working relationship with Calton, which meant he knew how to do his job, and learn his lessons as he went. Puller could admire and appreciate that.

As for Doctor Thornton, he barely spared time for a handshake before the incessant stream of technical jargon Puller had hoped to avoid started up, "Can you tell me anything about the fracture zone? Has the anomaly manifested visually yet? What do the..."

Calton, much to Puller's everlasting gratitude and amusement, simply placed a hand on Thornton's head, and forced him back to a seated position on the crate, cutting off his stream of words, "Sit. Stay. Good Brit."

Puller chuckled, "Agent Calton, I appreciate the down-to-business attitude. We're strapped for time and resources here, so I'm gonna toss you guys right in; you need to get him," The colonel jerked a thumb at the sullen scientist, "into light armor and combat boots. We're going to go by VTOL, and the people on the ground here are telling me that we'll need radiation suits, so you need to get qualified with those."

Konem shook his head, "They give us a yearly crash course in hazmat gear. Part of the job."

Puller was impressed, and he let it show in his expression and tone, "Good! One less thing on the todo list. " He glanced back at Calton, "Calton... You think you can squeeze Doctor fracture-zone over there into a suit?"

Calton's devilish grin gave Puller slight pause, "You can call me Cal. And It'd be a pleasure."
She smirked at Thornton, "Emphasis on the squeeze."

Equestrian Calendar: 2nd Month, 7th Day, Year 1002 PB (Post Banishment)
Five Hours After Nightfall
RES Ascendant with Royal Expeditionary Force
A Day and four hours' Journey South South-West of Canterlot

"...Oh it didn't take long after he got behind the upper skull plates. Brelik here has been known to break granite slabs, I've never met a stronger member of our kind. He pried up the scales behind the ears, and rammed four javelins in so far they disappeared. The beast didn't even get to scream." Sildinar grinned as he finished the tale, stopping to take a sip of hot apple cider.

Brelik chuckled and shook his head, "He makes it sound a greater feat than it truly was. It was only a small Wyrm, not even fully grown. They are, at the end of the day, only monsters; no true combat intelligence, even in the beastly instinctive sense. They tend to merely flail about."

The Captain snorted, "But even the young 'uns get to be as big as Dragons, twice as fast, and easily as strong. And that fiery goo they can belch out... I seen one a long time back, and the stuff stuck to armor, skin, fur, and feathers and just burned until it ate you up. Killing one single-clawed is somethin' for the story-books."

Luna nodded her agreement, "Indeed, such a feat is not to be underestimated."

Brelik shrugged, "Well, in that case, I won't argue."

Flux struggled to swallow his haycakes. The violence of the tale actually perturbed him less than the fact that Luna was at-home with such macabre conversation. The behavior was, to him, unseemly for a ruler. He had always imagined the living avatar of the moon would be as serene and beautiful as the silver orb in the sky. Somehow her deadlier edge seemed to dull that beauty in Flux's eyes.

He certainly understood why Celestia had sent her sister, and not traveled on the expedition herself; Luna was perhaps as much a warrior at heart as the Gryphons seated across from her.

Flux didn't wish to become a part of the conversation, but his desire to escape the gruesome warrior tales outshone his desire to remain silent, so he did his best to steer the conversation down a more palatable path, "Speaking of the history books... Is not this gathering in itself historic? When was the last time our kinds embarked on a joint venture?"

Sildinar nodded, "Far too long ago."

Luna sighed, and cast a wistful glance at the two Gryphons "My sister appreciates all that you do to defend us... more even, I expect, than she is willing to let on. But she has no stomach for war and strife. I do, and so it always fell to me to maintain the closer kinship between our races. My.... absence made that impossible for a time, and I see the relationship has suffered."

Brelik shook his head, "Not so much suffered actively, as atrophied from disuse. We are not unwelcome among your kind, most of the time... but we are certainly not welcome anymore either."

Sildinar speared a shrimp neatly, and devoured it swiftly before contributing his own thoughts again, inclining his head in Luna's direction, "Your sister is wise, and kind... but she has failed to teach your little Ponies that peace does not breed peace on its own. There are always new and powerful evils in the world, and while we don't condemn the peaceful nature of Ponies there are many in the Kingdoms, my father and I included, who dearly wish you taught your kind that peace must be paid for in the currency of war and warriors."

Flux paled; the turn in the conversation had not at all sent it in the direction he intended; now the Gryphons were treading on ground Flux viewed as thin ice at best.

Brelik nodded rapidly in agreement with Sildinar, "Ponykind need not like, or engage in, our violent ways to *appreciate* that those ways keep their farms and cities safe on cold winter nights while we gladly do what is in our nature," he slammed his mug down on the table, "find the monsters, the ghosts, and the banshees of the world and put them to the sword without mercy."

Flux winced, expecting Luna to rise and strike the Gryphon down for his insolence. But as the moment of silence stretched on, he came to a shattering realization, glancing quickly back and forth from the Gryphon to the Princess; she couldn't. Even more surprising, judging by her expression, she wouldn't if she could.

To Flux's amazement, Luna merely nodded as well, her expression melancholy, "I do wish they understood. I fear rebuilding the understanding we had will take quite some time; our culture changes very slowly. It took a thousand years for my sister to convince those under us to engage in more self-governance rather than relying solely on us. "

The Captain nodded, "Changing minds won't be easy," He jabbed a hoof at Brelik, "Your kind has a certain... awe and fear about you."

Luna smiled, "It is true, but certainly no excuse for us to leave things as they are. Perhaps this will serve as a prelude to a new beginning."

The Gryphons both smiled, and Flux felt a certain inward relief; it was the first time all night that both the princess, and the warrior-ambassadors, had all truly genuinely smiled.

Perhaps they were right on some level. Flux steeled himself, and forced a meek grin onto his own muzzle, "Perhaps all we have to do is meet halfway?"

The Captain nodded and raised his mug, "I'll drink ta' that."

Brelik thumped a fisted claw on the table in assent, and raised his own mug. Sildinar did likewise.
Without hesitation, Luna raised her own glass, "As shall I."

Earth Calendar: 1/19/2102
18:28 GMT
Evacuation Zone Airspace
The Azores

"OW!" Thorntons protest elicited a chuckle from Koenig, who had already finished with his radiation suit, and was helping Luis to secure his helmet.

Cal glared up at the whining scientist, and yanked down even harder on the thigh cinch, "Man up. Unless you'd rather go out there in your slacks and guccis. I'm sure your grandkids would appreciate *that.*"

It was true, the process of putting on a combat hazardous environment suit was tricky in the back of a moving VTOL, but even Cal, who was fairly out of practice compared to fireteam Sigma, had managed to do it mostly on her own.

The suits looked much like medium combat armor, but were an off-shade of light gray, with orange hazard stripes. The helmets sported extra bulk around the mouth where the rebreather apparatus sat, and the material under the plates was much thicker and possessed less range of motion than even the jumpsuits on heavy armor.

In exchange for the bulk, decreased combat rating, and high visibility, the suits had a massive margin for environmental hazard; they could survive immersion for up to ten minutes in liquid or gaseous acids, and temperatures up to and including those experienced inside lava flows. The joints were sealed so tight even the smallest synthetic nanoparticles couldn't enter.

To top it all off, every single surface, both inside and outside the suit, including the visor of the helmet, was coated in a 'biophobic' material. The ceramic/nanofiber alloy overlay gave the fabric and plating alike a pearlescent sheen, and prevented any biological material from resting on, or adhering to the surface, including even so much as dead skin cells or dust mites.

The material was often used in surgical instruments, operating room surfaces, and in the construction of biohazard storage facilities.

As Cal finished attaching the final straps on Thornton's gear, Puller quietly slid into the rear compartment from his previous position in the cockpit, sliding the connecting door shut and latching it firmly.

The Colonel gestured over his shoulder, "We're down in ten. Staging ground commander says its a nightmare, but keep in mind; we're here on other business."

Luis shook his head, "Man.. boos.. I don't like this. We gotta babysit some guy with more degrees than combat hours, when there's people down there dying from the radiation?"

Thornton glared, his voice coming out louder than he expected due to the magnification afforded by his helmet speakers, "You're babysitting this four degree PHD scientist so he can do everything you couldn't possibly understand, or conceive of, to ensure that the majority of those people live. Oh yes, and to ensure that the entire *planet* doesn't go up with this little island chain."

Koenig raised an eyebrow, a genuinely curious tinge underpinning his question, "You really think this is *that* serious?"

Thornton shook his head rapidly, "No, no I don't 'think...' I *know.*"

Cal sighed and offered Luis a sympathetic glance, "It's nothing personal; he's like this all the time. In case you were wondering."

Earth Calendar: 1/19/2102
18:40 GMT
Terceira Island, 14 Kliks N-NW of Staging Camp
The Azores

The term 'nightmare' had not been an exaggeration.

Firebrand brought the VTOL to a cautious stop on a flat shelf of rock part way up the mountain.
Puller was the first off the rear-ramp.

Even nearly fourteen kilometers away from the closest major settlement, streams of radiation burned victims were being hurried down the nearby twisting craggy paths paths by hazmat-clad relief workers. The rescuers had wrapped the victims in rad-resistant emergency blankets, but many were already nearly to the lethal stages of radiation poisoning.

Puller winced, and tried to disengage from the moment; most of the people he could see would probably survive. If they could receive anti-radiation nano-chamber treatments in time.
And the journey would be an exercise in pain endurance.

Some victims had even lost the flesh on their arms; doubtless outlying Kelp farmers, tending homemade growing tanks in the mountains... close to the anomaly epicenter.

Puller glanced over his shoulder to see that of the team, only Konem seemed to have any remaining resolve. The rest, including Cal and Luis, were gaping in horror. Thornton looked as if he would quite literally throw up in his helmet.

The scientist held up a small device, which promptly began clicking atonally so loudly that it was nearly a single continuous drone. Thornton winced, "Eleven thousand rads." Once such a dosage would have been assuredly lethal, but specially programmed nanoparticles could soak up the radiation in a person's cells, then return to a nanocylinder and discharge the rels non harmful.

The concept of a nano-chamber for treating radiation poisoning incorporated such nanites, along with billions of cellular repair and genetic recoding nanties to heal the body and prevent cancer. The final component was a solution of synthetic aloe and lubricant, mixed with hyper-analgesic, designed to eliminate pain in the skin, and aid it in repairing more quickly.

Unfortunately, by Puller's estimation, Yorktown wouldn't have nearly enough tanks to treat even half the victims he could see, much less the total count of poisoned and burned refugees.

Earthgov would surely have more tanks flown in... but it still almost certainly wouldn't be enough to save every single victim. Not in time.

Cal coughed, clearly on the verge of being sick herself, "Eleven thousand rads... total?"

Thornton shook his head, "Eleven thousand *here.* I'd surmise it goes up logarithmically as we approach the pre-rift. Best guess?" He paused and knit his eyebrows, "A hundred and thirty five thousand at the epicenter. We need to get in and set up the equipment as soon as possible."

Luis raised an eyebrow, "Why? We still have a little time..."

Thornton shook his head, "No. We don't. Its much worse than I expected."

Puller turned swiftly on the scientist, "How long do we have before worse-case scenario..."

Koenig's eyes widened, "What *is* worst case? if this isn't?"

Thornton gulped, "Outside chances? Optimistically? We have a day and three hours before the ground you're standing on gets pushed out of local space-time in an event that will produce more energy than a solar coronal mass ejection."

Konem snorted, and hefted the first crate from the back of the VTOL,
"Then we're wasting time. I refuse to be standing here when 'here' gets chewed up by some scientific Cthulhu. Lets make tracks."

Comments

[Guardian_Gryphon]

At *last*

I hate late-term assignment cycles; professors always seem to expect miracles and Jim? I'm an engineer, not a magician.

So I'm hoping, over the next few days, to produce MUCH more quickly in order to make up for the fact that I may not
be writing at all the last weeks of term. Of course, break will bring a nice new resurgence in content so you do have
that to look forward to, assuming I have any fans left after slowing down so much.

Lemme say this; the first contact itself is going to be quite a moment.
I have.... plans.

[Waterpicker]

:D. I've been waiting for this alot!!!!!

[MetBoy]

1586946
I can honestly say that sudden assignments, or suddenly soon deadlines, are real things once you get a job... Which is why it may take me a few days to read your new chapter. =/

Still hoping that you chose an interesting way to address the language barrier... Sure, magic (or sufficiently advanced technology) can be convenient, but so much less INTERESTING.

[Guardian_Gryphon]

1587059
You're the second person to mention that to me today.
For an answer I'm going to say you'll be at once disappointed, and happy, and confused.

Language, like other issues, will be discussed by the characters, and theorized about...
But like half the issues in my works you don't get answers right away, or even necessarily in this book.

1586983
Well with any luck, you won't have to wait as long for the next installment.

[aponyforthebooks]

First contact. Can't wait.

[Mimicry]

Passes out at 9 o clock after midterms, misses prereading duties. BEST PREREADER EVER!

[CvBrony]

I refuse to be standing here when 'here' gets chewed up by some scientific Cthulhu.

a Dragon's got more magic in their littlest scale than Celestia and Luna do in their entire bodies.

I really do like this story but it crashes against my headcanon sooo much and it frustrates me.

[MetBoy]

1587067
Probably not disappointed, as you clearly aren't intending to take an "easy" answer, and now that I've read your comment, I know it may be part of long term foreshadowing, the sort that I have in mind myself. (EqTrek's epilogue is going to have some hooks in it that won't be explained for several stories.)

One of the things I like about the show is that magic, even for Twilight Sparkle, doesn't provide easy answers. She tried for one in Swarm of the Century, and it backfired, and in Boast Busters she was clearly working hard to pull that feat off. Easy answers don't make for good stories.

[Guardian_Gryphon]

1588015
That's just it; it looks easy at first blush but then everyone wants to know why it was so easy and why both worlds have chess, and why Gryphons and Dragons appear on murals older than ancient dynasties....

1587623
Well two things;
1; Dragons have more magic but because of the size of their tap they have no specificity.
They are, in layman's terms, incapable of directly casting their own magic most of the time; its instinctual like Eragon.

2; Celestia and Luna, and all Alicorns for that matter, simply aren't deities in my world.
They're mortal. They have a lifespan limit, a magic cast limit, and can be killed.
Its just that to most creatures they're functionally immortal because their ratios are so much higher than everyone else's.

1587328
Hey, I sympathize. I have finals coming.
That's bound to be buckets of fun.

[MetBoy]

1588171
'bout what I figured, and of course if the Royal Pony Sisters know WHY they aren't saying, and no one wants to wake of Discord on the off chance that he MIGHT explain, given that he's such a massive troll and could be lying, leaving aside the trouble he'd cause if he got loose...

Yeah, this is one of the reasons I consider you to be one of the better writers on this site, at least in terms of "human" type stuff like this. Poor authors don't realize that there is an issue. The average ones hang a lampshade and try to ignore it. Better authors, like us, develop explanations for things, even if those explanations aren't shown for a long time.

[Guardian_Gryphon]

1588205
Well I'm flattered you consider me a good author

As for the sisters....
Lets go with 'they know, but don't know that they know.'
If you want someone old enough to actually *remember* the pertinent events, or rather someone who can inherit predecessor memories...
Look to the lady in black.

[CvBrony]

1588171

Rites of Ascension's canon is different, from that and many other stories. In Rites, Alicorns are:

-Not true gods or deities, but they are...
-Ageless (will never grow old), but can be killed, although that is very difficult as they are extremely resilient to damage
-Are ascended unicorns
-In possession of a lot of magical power. More than all but the oldest and rarest of dragons. They do have a limit, but it's astronomically high.
-Dragons can cast magic, but only their magic. Dragons are unable to use alicorn/unicorn spells.

[Guardian_Gryphon]

1588253
Eh, so there is more similarity than you'd think.

In my world Alicorns don't reproduce, there is an ascendancy procedure... it just works on any sufficiently special member of any of the sub-species.

I'm sure I'll get around to finishing my writeup on them one of these days.

[MetBoy]

1588210
I consider you the single best author to address the idea embodied in "The Conversion Bureau" and, quite simply the only author of TCB stories that is worth spending my limited time to read. (No offense to those writing spin-offs of Option Gamma, but, eh. Limited time, and couldn't get into them.)

Of course, given the low level of quality of most TCB stories, that's not really unqualified praise... Most I've seen fell into either wish-fulfillment self-inserts, or sloppy "two-legs bad, four-legs good" propaganda. The 'Anti-TCB' writings, to my mind, are no better, being equally sloppy propaganda, just in the opposite direction, with the added burden of not being true to the characters in the show.

But you do so much BETTER than that. Your writing both addresses the import of making such life-changing decisions, and the philosophical questions involved with the meanings of 'free will' and 'identity' as applied to a species facing those questions.

AND AT THE SAME TIME! you have grounded your stories in the real, the relatable, and the understandable as you reveal motivations for Princess Celestia, and the other rulers of Equestria, to want to help the doomed species, motivations that admit their selfish motives, either for themselves or for the nations they rule. IN TURN this transforms the philosophical questions, as conversion becomes not transformation into a morally perfect form, not a salvation of the soul, but an option for the survival that ENABLES the individual to continue their progress and pursuit of the better self.

Your writings, while not perfect, are solid, empirical proof that the extremely difficult idea contained in TCB can be done RIGHT.

And now, let me put up my umbrella before my ego stroking makes your swelled head explodes. That stuff can be a pain to wash out of clothing.