The Conversion Bureau: The First Choice

by Westphalian_Musketeer

Chapter Eight

Willard, Monica, Miles, Karan, Jameson and Vickers were standing at the New York Harbor waiting for the S.S. Bordeaux to finish docking. The ship was dedicated in large part to transporting newfoals; quadrupedal bodily orientations, lack of fingers, all had been considered on the ship... apparently. From the exterior it looked like a regular military warship. Shining blue steel encased the entire thing in a nigh impenetrable layer that would be unscathed by all but the most powerful armaments. It was a good thing too: HLF made a point of trying to attack every newfoal transport they could get their forces near.

To welcome the HLF, the ship carried six rail cannons, bristling the top of the ship like the spines along a lizard’s neck. Should the situation arise, the armaments could launch depleted uranium spikes at velocities ten of times the speed of sound. When they impacted, they would ruin the day of any ship that made the mistake of attempting to approach without proper clearance. Some people called them ‘Rods from God’ as a joking reference to abandoned projects of launching such projectiles from space.

Private Vickers and Jameson gave out a collective whistle before Jameson stated, “Okay, I asked for a bigger boat, and they delivered.”

“You and your boats, what’s the point? Not like there are any fish around,” Vickers argued. “They rock back and forth, carry you places, and make things go boom, not much else to it.”

“Gotta agree with Vickers on that one,” Willard interjected, “so long as it get’s us to Equestria in one piece I’m happy.” The blue earth pony turned to Jameson and asked, “How’s the leg?”

“It’s fine,” Jameson answered. “Mostly healed, I’ll be able to return to duty in a few days.”

“Good, good,” Willard replied. Behind him the S.S. Bordeaux creaked and groaned as it came to a halt inside the dock. “Well, here’s our ride, come on everypony.” An immediate snicker from Miles and Jameson informed Willard of his slip of the tongue. “Well it’s not like you three are going to be coming along with us,” Willard stated, gesturing with a hoof at the three soldiers.

“Right you are on that one Willard. I’m waiting to see if my application for gryphonization goes through,” Lieutenant Karan replied.

“And I’d really like to visit my family one more time before heading into the meat grinder,” Jameson said.

“And you know how much I prefer to practice on the firing range every chance I get. Besides, I hear there’s talk of this new inter-race task force that’s being formed. I’d love a chance to show off in that setting.” Vickers grinned widely at the whole group when they looked at him. “What? I don’t get to be a blow hard once in awhile?”

The group chuckled and went their separate ways. Miles, along with Willard and his niece, headed to the group of newfoals gathered around the slowly descending embarking ramp. The group was about one-hundred-and-fifty strong.

Part of the group were converts from Carrenton. They were surrounded by a group of three Royal Equestrian Guards. Nestled among that group was Blank Slate, with a magical inhibitor wrapped around his horn. Most of the others simply had a GPS locked around an ankle. Miles gazed down at his own hoof to his own tracking device. A small line that the ponies faced indicated the divide between HLF and PER. The occasional glares that were sent and insults thrown quickly prompted the guards to intervene, blocking the trouble-makers from each other’s sight and bringing the two parties further apart.

A few dozen feet away and facing outwards, various EarthGov and ConSec personnel aimed their weapons outward. They were scanning everything to make sure HLF, if they intended to attack then, did not get the drop on them.

The ramp hit the edge of the dock with a loud bang and most of the newfoals collectively silenced themselves to look up at their transport. Down from the ship a man in a white suit walked towards the ground. When he stepped onto the dock he smiled.

“Good day ladies and gentlemen. I am Admiral Anderson, and this is my ship the S.S. Bordeaux,” the man began. “As you are all probably aware we’ll be taking you to the barrier. There you’ll be transferred over to an Equestrian ship and sent on your way. That being said this is not meant to be a luxury cruise. HLF makes a point to try and attack all these transports so there are rules. Lights out by ten o’clock tonight, no fighting or roughhousing, no distracting crew from their work; follow these rules and everything will go along just fine.”

The admiral stepped back up the walkway and a few of the human guards ushered the newfoals onto the ramp. The procession made their way onto the deck where the newfoals were split into smaller groups to be escorted to their rooms. Willard, Monica and Miles remained behind. Monica prodded a guard with a hoof. The man looked down and lifted an inquisitive brow.

“Hi, I’m Monica Radrim,” the green pegasus stated bashfully. “I’m with the Human Archives Project, and I was just wondering if everything went alright with getting the documents on board?”

“Yeah, the documents were brought on board earlier today. I’m sure those Royal Guards will know where to bring you if you ask them,” the soldier replied. “Now if you could find a cabin before we depart?”

“Of course,” Monica responded, and the group trotted off to follow the last newfoals that were going through a door.

Stepping through the door, Willard noted that the handles for all the doors were set relatively lower compared to other ships he had been on. The ground was covered in a rubber like substance that allowed the earth pony’s hooves to get a good grip on the ground. The halls were set slightly wider and shorter than he had expected. The group easily made its way through the corridors. Every few dozen feet they stopped, and three to a dozen ponies were assigned a room after having their names called out. Eventually the HLF and PER converts were brought to two large brigs, where they were kept separate from one another. With only thirty other ponies left, Miles, Monica and Willard were sent into their own room near the brig.

“If you want to check on the archive documents, ask one of the Royal Guards down the hall,” the soldier instructed. “But don’t do it after hours.”

The three new-foals stepped into the room and smiled at what they saw. Three bunks were arrayed inside the room, low to the ground and and a pleasing shade of grass green. A large light ensured the space was well lit. The walls were barren steel but nonetheless had a pleasing light blue hue to them. The room provided the overall impression that someone had tried to emulate an open field in the color choices.

“Somewhat insulting,” Miles said, “it’s not like ponies sleep out in the middle of fields all the time. Still, I suppose it’s the thought that counts.” He stepped onto a cushion and grinned widely as his hoof sunk into it. “Man am I glad that I was allowed to bunk here instead of the brig.”

Willard stepped to his own bed and faced Miles. “Good behaviour’s gone a long way for you. You haven’t talked much about your experience though.” Willard made eye contact with Miles before continuing, “Are you sure you’re feeling alright?”

“Uh, yeah, I guess. I mean, what is there to say? I have four legs, no fingers, a tail, fur, magic, and getting along with others seems to be one iota easier.” Miles faced away from Willard. “I’m dealing with it, and with you here it’s a little easier.” He smiled then. “Your niece seems to be handling the whole thing rather well.”

The blue earth pony turned around to see his niece lying contentedly on her bed. Her green coat blended with the cushion rather convincingly. Her eyes were scanning the room, taking in the whole of its contents.

“Anything you would like to add sweety?” Willard asked.

“Yeah,” she replied, “I approve of this ship, it’s comfy.”

Private Jameson reached down to massage his knee. He smiled when no aches or pains were aggravated by his touch. The limb had completely recovered since his impromptu dive during the attack on the archives shipment just a few weeks prior. Nanotechnology and the best medical practices had healed the limb perfectly.

Jameson knocked on the apartment door in front of him. A few moments later a tall thin man with a wiry beard answered the door; Thomas Jameson. “Todd! Came to see your brother and sister one last time before heading back eh?” Thomas said.

Jameson scratched the back of his head. “Yeah, but dad, you mind just calling me Jameson? I really prefer it to my first name.”

Thomas scrunched up his nose. “Suit yourself. Come on in.” He stood to the side and ushered his son inside, soon following him into the living room. “Alice! Look who decided to see us again!”

A woman in her late thirties was sitting on the couch. She was wearing a thick sweater and her hair had prematurely greyed into a light, silvery, blonde color. Alice stood up and ran over to Jameson, wrapping her arms around him in a tight hug.

“It’s so good to see you!” she said warmly.

Jameson wrapped his arms around his mother and replied, “It’s good to see you too.” They pulled out of the hug, and Jameson looked about. “Where’s Ria and Kyle?” he asked.

“Give em’ and moment,” Thomas answered as stomping feet came down the hallway.

Soon, a boy and a girl, aged six, ran into the living room and tried to tackle Jameson, wrapping themselves around each of his arms.

“Oh no! They’ve got me pinned!” the private said in a tone of mock dismay, before standing up and lifting the two kids off the floor by a good foot. The children giggled as Jameson set them back down. “You’ll have to try harder next time!”

“You came back!” the boy exclaimed.

“Yeah, well, I was passing through the area, beating down HLF and PER, and I figured I’d drop by to say hello.” The response made the boy’s grin grow wider.

“But you said you were taking a break so your leg could get better,” Kyle retorted while Ria twisted around on her feet.

Jameson put a hand up to his chin. “Huh, you’re right I did say that. But you know what?”

“What?” Ria and Kyle asked in unison.

Jameson got down on his knees and opened his arms. “Tomorrow I’m heading back, but I’ve got all day to spend with you two. So, who’s up for ice cream?”

The two younger siblings gave out a collective shout of joy and ran into their older brother’s arms. Each eagerly asked him questions about things he had done, and what it felt like to have his leg broken and then healed by nanobots. The two parents looked on the warm scene.

Alice’s eyes shined as she quietly asked her husband, “Do you think we’re doing the right thing? Waiting for them to get old enough to make their own decision?”

Thomas draped an arm around her shoulder. “When the barrier gets closer we’ll move. I hear the Genesists are making progress on building the ships to reach another planet. We’re doing the right thing, keeping their options open.”

Jameson looked up at his parents fondly as he guided his brother and sister out the door.

When the door shut Thomas kissed Alice on the cheek. “Our own Todd is doing the same thing with what his work involves.”

Alice leaned into her husband and simply hummed in agreement.

“Attention everyone, this is the captain speaking, we are approaching the barrier. Please come to the deck in a calm and orderly fashion,” the intercom spoke.

A whole day had passed, and it was now the late evening of their second day on their voyage. The three newfoals stretched their legs and yawned deeply, shaking themselves and looking at the door. They stepped out of the room and into the hallway, there were already a few other newfoals making there way towards the deck, the occasional human leading them.

“Well, time to see what Equestrian rafts look like,” Miles commented.

They stepped out onto the deck of the S.S. Bordeaux. Out on the horizon, a dim glow could be seen through the dead sky of earth. Much closer, and much more readily visible, was the bubble, the barrier between Earth and Equestria. It was not so much a barrier, as a precise point in space where the differences of the two worlds contrasted sharply. On the other side, one could see the sun set in the west, forming a pink sliver that cast the whole of what could be seen in Equestria in a lovely purple hue as pink mixed with the blue of the ocean waters.

Inside the bubble, a small white dot was growing larger and larger. Soon a series of sails became visible, and it became apparent that it was an Equestrian ship crossing the border between worlds to ferry the newfoals to their new home. It passed through with relative ease and soon was pulled up beside the S.S. Bordeaux. It was rather large both height and width wise. On board were a series of ropes and pulleys that was all the more complicated from having to be crewed by beings lacking fingers and thumbs. Monica’s keen eyes could see wood grain patterns beneath the white paint of the exterior. Miles was instead enamored with the large sails on the ship, adorned with the Equestrian seal. Topping each mast were blue pennants that flipped about lazily in the weak winds of Earth.

“Okay, I take it back, it’s not a raft,” Miles spoke, his mouth agape.

“I take back what I said too, I like that ship!” Monica exclaimed, gesturing with a hoof just as a ramp lowered onto the deck of the S.S. Bordeaux.

Down the ramp descended five ponies in armour, three pegasi, one unicorn, and one earth pony. They cast a glance around at the newfoals and humans gathered around. One of pegasi walked towards Admiral Anderson, who leaned over to listen to what the pony had to say.

The admiral lifted up his head and then looked about. He worked on a DATab before speaking. “Yes, this should be all the newfoals, including the PER and HLF from Carrenton. Best keep them separate, they still have bones to pick with each other.”

“And the archives shipment?” the pegasus asked.

“Down in the cargo bay, I have men bringing them up now. What about the Equestrian food?” the admiral responded.

“Two tonnes total of grain, potatoes, and various fruits, mostly pineapples from Foal’s Haven,” the royal guard responded. The pegasus then turned to the newfoals and spoke. “Alright everypony, I am Captain Frigid Skies. Please make your way on board, you’ll be guided to your rooms by other members of the crew. We’ll be departing in a few hours after some of the cargo is transferred.”

With that the pegasus rejoined with the rest of the guards and ushered the newfoals forward. When the group approached, Miles noticed a unicorn unlocking the GPS tracers and clamping on a set of chains on the HLF and PER newfoals. Coming closer to the ramp, they heard the earth pony guard calling out, “Monica Radrim? If I could please see Monica Radrim?”

Monica stepped towards the earth pony and offered a hoof. “I’m here, you wanted to talk to me?”

“Yes, I’ll be helping organize the papers into the appropriate crates for bringing to Canterlot and to Ponyville, you’ll be able to tell me which goes where yes?” The earth pony guard inclined his head inquisitively.

“Absolutely,” the green mare replied, “all crates marked X-540 through to X-640 will be heading for Canterlot. The crate marked G-754 will be going to the Appleoosa Agriculture Archive. The rest will be heading to the main archives in... Ponyville, correct?”

The stallion nodded. “Correct. We’ll be heading for Canterlot first, along with the prisoners. While that goes on the others will send the other documents to Ponyville and Appleloosa. After that you’ll head to Ponyville.”

Miles shifted uncomfortably at the mention of Canterlot. His ankle brace clinked on the steel of the Bordeaux’s deck. The guard’s ears flinched and he looked around Monica. Seeing the brace the earth pony waved a hoof to his unicorn comrade, and walked towards the grey newfoal.

“What are you doing separate from the rest of the group?” the pony asked.

“I... uh!” Miles stammered.

“Good behaviour, he’s allowed to stay away from the others,” Willard walked up beside his friend and looked at the guard flatly.

“We didn’t hear about this arrangement. We’ll need to put on a magic inhibitor and chains and keep him with the others for the rest of the voyage until we get to Canterlot,” the unicorn guard answered, lifting what looked like a small, horn-sized, iron ring with his magical grip.

“No, you don’t need to,” Willard responded, taking another step forward and leaning into the guard’s face. “If you’re concerned about him harming anypony, he’s more likely to lash out against the other HLF newfoals than anypony else. If it comes down to it you can chain him to me to make sure he doesn’t hurt anyone. If he does, Celestia can put it on my head. I’m telling you this once, you are not going to drag my friend back into an environment that he has no interest in returning to.”

Monica watched the whole ordeal unfold before her. Her ears drooped and she cast nervous glances between her uncle, Miles, and the guards. What is he thinking? I know he knows Miles from the past, but he is HLF. Why is it so important to him?

The air seemed to grow still as the unicorn looked into Willard’s eyes, scanning them. They did not twitch or shudder at the prolonged stare. Eventually the guard’s eyes widened slightly before he pulled his head back.

“Alright, he’s your baggage, but if he hurts anypony, I will not hesitate to drag you both to Celestia and make sure she sends you both away for a long time. Understand?”

Willard nodded. “Perfectly. Come on Miles.”

Monica stepped into her cabin and sighed. The earth pony had been quite helpful in moving various documents, but the tension that had built between her uncle and the guard had made her somewhat nervous. The guard had shrugged it off and told her that he wasn’t overly concerned about it.

“Why did you go and risk getting thrown in with him?” the green pegasus asked Willard, pointing her hoof at Miles.

Miles was seated near a small window and looking at the passing waves. He turned around and looked at Monica, flipping his ears down in a conscious effort. Willard raised his head from a sheet of paper he had been given, going over how one was not to eat earth food prior to crossing the barrier; lest it be atomized and cause illness upon crossing over.

“Because he’s a fellow soldier, and he’s willing to accept what’s happened to him,” Willard answered. “Spending time with those HLF isn’t going to be good for him. I talked to Ana Thetic before leaving and none of them have shown much improvement. She told me that they’d all made attempts to harm themselves. Some of them had to be force-fed their food.”

Monica sighed again, reaching a hoof to her face and drawing it along her muzzle. “Alright fine, I just don’t want to see you get hurt taking care of others. I’m sorry.”

“This again? Monica, I’ve told you, I’m okay if I don’t win, so long as I go down doing what’s right.” The blue earth pony walked to his niece and nuzzled her. “Looks like Conversion still hasn’t changed your worrying about me. Now stop it, I’m not going anywhere anytime soon. Between living next to the Equestrian capital, and another one hundred and sixty years to my human thirty-something, I’ll be there for you for a long time.”

“That’s the point!” Monica exclaimed, brushing her uncle aside with a hoof. “You always do so much for me, but I’m growing up! You don’t need to worry about me anymore! We’re heading to Equestria; I’m going to have a job working at the archives. I want you to have the life you gave up when mom and dad were... killed.” Monica turned away and heaved slightly.

“Alright, I think I get it. I’ve spent so much time taking care of you, and now you’ve grown up,” Willard said to his niece. When her head bobbed up and down he continued, “And when you see that I’m making sure Miles gets through okay, you’re worried I’m just replacing you and getting into even deeper trouble myself?” Again Monica nodded.

The earth pony sighed and went over to his bunk. “Monica, rest assured, I’m not just clinging out of some sense of empty nest syndrome. If I was, Miles would have emphatically stated so.” Willard turned to his Miles. “Right?”

The grey unicorn nodded his head vigorously. “Absolutely, he’s been a big help. He’s not really projecting anything. I don’t get the feeling like he regards me as some sort of son. We’re just...”

“Brothers in arms?” Willard offered.

“Exactly,” the cyan maned newfoal replied. “So Monica, if you’re worried I’m going to get your uncle into trouble, I’ll do everything in my power to help him out. Just like how he has helped me.” Miles stood up and walked towards Monica, stopping a few feet short, he lifted up a hoof. “So, do we have a mutual understanding?”

Monica turned around, her pink hued eyes scanning his azure eyes. “Alright... I trust you, take care of my uncle will you? He’s been good to me.”

Miles nodded and stepped back to look out the window. “Looks like we’re about to cross over the barrier, anything specific the guide says about crossing over?”

Willard walked back to the scroll he had left and looked it over. “Yeah, it says exhale before crossing, or else the oxygen in your lungs gets atomized and reconstituted.”

“Sounds painful,” Monica commented.

“And apparently it causes a bad case of hiccups,” Willard responded.

Just then a faint rumbling sound came from the front of the ship. The group drew in a few sharp breaths then exhaled as hard as they could. The bubble phased through the wall of their cabin and slowly progressed through. As the barrier passed over them, each newfoal felt a slight pressure, like warm air escaping from an oven. When the wall passed through the cabin, they noted that the air felt slightly warmer.

Monica lifted a wing and a small scroll fell out from underneath it. She opened it up with her hooves and smiled. “It worked, the paper and ink they gave me at the Bureau is still here.”

“What is it?” Willard asked.

“The Radrim family tree, I was able to trace it back almost five-hundred years at some points.” She turned to her uncle, tears of happiness in her eyes. “I’ll never forget where I came from.”

“I don’t think any of us will,” Miles responded.

“And that’s what is important, our origins, hopes, thoughts, and ideas,” Willard waxed poetically. “For that is what truly makes us what we are, that is what the HLF fails to realize; these are things worth preserving, that is what the PER fails to realize.”

“Hehehe,” Miles chuckled. “Keep up like that and the archives in Ponyville just might have to open a new branch, ‘ramblings of a soldier-convert’.” The unicorn sat on his haunches and flourished dramatically with his hooves as Willard gave a mock scowl.

“Don’t get any ideas in my head, colt. I just might start writing these things down!”