The Conversion Bureau: The First Choice

by Westphalian_Musketeer

Chapter Nine

The group arrived at Foal’s Haven in the middle of the following night. From what the royal escorts said, it was apparently now the fifth most populated area of the Equestrian nation since conversion became available. Monica, Miles, and Willard were allowed to find their own accommodations, with a bag of Equestrian currency, or bits, and precise instructions to be at the train the following morning.

Willard led the group to a promising looking inn that hummed with activity. As the group approached the building, the door swung open and three gryphons stepped out. One was a deep shade of red, like dried blood, while another was a speckled and mottled black. Taking up the rear was a gryphon with a rather unassuming light brown feathering. Nestled between them was a royal pony guard, white coat and full armor, walking beside a pink stallion, both ponies were pegasi.

When the gryphic group rounded a corner Miles shook his head. “Well, that was certainly a motley looking crew.”

Monica giggled, “What does that make us then?”

Willard stepped to the inn door before turning back to his niece and friend. “Harlequin?” he offered. When Monica broke into a full laugh he continued. “Not so different from us. Just some folks trying to make the best for the world. The future, if you’re feeling a bit more dramatic. Come on, let’s see if this inn has some rooms.”

Stepping inside revealed to them the very image of revelry. Native inhabitant and newfoal alike sat at tables or simply stood near the bar, eating, drinking, talking, and yes, even singing. A large hearth set in one wall and various candled chandeliers from the ceiling lit up the room in a soft, slightly orange tinted light.

Monica walked up to the bar and emptied a few dozen bits on it in front of the barkeeper. “What kind of food can we get for this?”

“For that?” the barkeep asked. “Three specials, along with plenty of cider to go around as well.”

“We’ll take it.” Monica tucked the bit pouch underneath her wing and sat at one of the smaller oak tables with Willard and Miles.

A few minutes later their plates of food were set in front of them. On them were glistening and sizzling dishes. The center of the course was a rice and vegetable stir-fry, with peas, carrots, corn, celery, and topped off with a spiced pineapple sauce that gave it an incredibly sweet flavor. For sides there were crisp hayfries, doused generously in sea salt, along with a large loaf of bread. In a word the meal was succulent, and the three newfoals tended their meal eagerly in silence.

When they had eaten down their food Miles floated over his half-empty mug of cider. “Ahem,” he declared. “I just wanted to tell you both that whatever happens after we get to Canterlot, I’m happy to have known you. If I get the chance to see you in the future, I’ll take it.”

Willard dipped his head into his mug, taking his first drink from it. Licking the sweet taste from his lips after pulling his head back up, he spoke, “Good to know, but I intend to do all I can to make sure we can stick together.”

“Right,” Monica piped up, “it is good to see that you’ve both been able to help each other through all this.” The green pegasus stretched out her neck and yawned. “Sorry,” she said. “But let’s say you do get to stick around Miles, what do you think you’d do in Ponyville? I’m going to be working in the archives, so is uncle, what about you?”

“Well I suppose I’d have to find a job as a general laborer, don’t really have any skills outside of what I learned in the military. Though I’m curious, the archives project works on transferring musical works as well right?”

“Absolutely,” the mare confirmed, nodding her head.

“That would be a nice environment to work in,” Miles said, a smile lightening his features. “Even if it was just moving around instruments, I could do that, being a unicorn, I’d be able to give them some proper treatment once I learned how to tune and clean them.”

“Sounds like we’re going to be a motley crew of chroniclers then!” Willard announced jovially.

When they finished their drinks, along with seconds, they rented a room for the night for a few extra bits. The innkeeper had thanked them heartily for their patronage, and the group was soon unconscious in their beds, dreaming of the future. They had finally arrived in Equestria. Perhaps the hard part was over, but then, Equestria was still expanding, people were still being converted, to ponies, and soon to gryphons. It was a new world, with its own challenges.

“Good afternoon good sirs. Might I interest you in some tea?”

Willard looked up to see a yellow-coated, grey-maned pegasus balancing a tray with several cups and a kettle on his wings. The guards in the train car with Willard, Monica and Miles took the beverage with thanks and soon the pegasus walked to Willard.

“And what of you; gentlecolts, madam? Care for some tea?” the server asked. He extended his wing, wafting the tray in front of Willard’s nose.

The navy stallion shook his head. “No, not really interested in anything caffeinated.”

Monica and Miles leaned back in unison. The grey unicorn offered their response “No thank you, the scenery is quite enough thank you.”

The pegasus’ eyes flickered and his ears perked up. He glanced over at the guards enjoying their tea. “Are you sure you won’t have a taste? A small cup?” he inquired.

“Yep!” Monica said.

“Come now, take a little bit, each of you, go on, go on...”

“We said we’re not interested,” Willard stated.

“Just a tiny little serving? Go on, go on, go on, go on, GO ON!” the pegasus snapped the last little bit, insistently placing the tray on the table and going off. Willard could swear he heard him mumbling about “Newfoals and their reluctance to accept good Equestrian hospitality.”

The group just looked at the kettle for a while. Each newfoal occasionally cast a glance out to a parkland environment. Groves of trees dotted the spanning fields of grass and farmland as they progressed to the interior of Equestria. The sun bathed the ground outside and casted warm light on Monica’s green muzzle. Willard yawned and rubbed a hoof at the warmed patch of fur that had formed on his chest from the bright disc shining on his dark coat.

“I guess one cup wouldn’t hurt,” Willard proposed. “Mind pouring me a cup Miles?”

“Alright,” Miles answered, floating the kettle over to a cup and pouring a small serving to Willard.

The earth pony lowered his head to the steeped brew and sniffed. It smelled good, and it tickled his nostrils slightly. Miles looked up from Willard and his ears pointed up, his horn glowed and the teacup smashed into the wall opposite of where they were seated.

“What in the world was that for?” Willard questioned with a frown forming on his face.

Miles pointed with a hoof behind Willard. The earth pony looked around and saw all the guards slumped over and snoring softly. His ears pinned back against his head as he turned back to his two companions.

“Miles, Monica, head for the car with the other guards, if you see that waiter, don’t confront him. I’m going to see the other cars.” With that the stallion stood up and marched out of the car and into the next.

It was the car for the prisoners, and there too, the royal guards were unconscious. One of the prisoners extended a hoof through the bars. “Hey brother, praise be to Celestia’s light, you here to break us out? That other bloke just went over to the next car.”

“Sit down and shut up,” Willard answered. He stood over one of the guards and tried to shake him awake. When the guard continued to snore fitfully Willard continued to the next car.

There, Willard saw the yellow pegasus working at a box with a crowbar set in his jaw. When he saw Willard he dropped the tool and looked at him.

“You should have drank the tea.”

Before Willard could offer a response he heard the door behind him open.

“Uncle! Something is really bad, the other cars are locked, and I couldn't find a key on any of the guards!”

Willard turned his head slightly. “Monica we have PE—OOF!”

The pegasus had taken the opportunity to bull-rush Willard, knocking him over and sending both of them to the ground. The pegasus stood over Willard and slammed a hoof into his side before darting past Miles and Monica.

“Stop him!” Willard yelled.

Willard lifted himself from the ground. Monica and Miles ran after the pegasus into the car holding the prisoners. The navy stallion ran after them. He quickly kicked the door in with his front hooves, buckling it inwards and letting him continue on. Inside the jail car, Willard reached the next door just in time to see the pegasus loop around and land where it joined with the passenger car. The pegasus lowered his head to the pin linking the cars together and pulled it out with his teeth. As the car Willard was on fell from the train, the pegasus opened the door.

Miles ran to the train door and slammed his forehooves to the door. “Locked! Shit!” he cursed. He tugged at the handle but it refused to yield. “Hang on.” Miles pushed Monica back from the door before he spun around on his hooves and bucked the door. He was rewarded with an ineffectual thud meeting the door and a pain shooting up to his hind knees. “Dammit! Just when you need an earth pony to buck down a door they’re stuck in the next car over.”

“Isn’t there something you can do to get us out there?” Monica asked with worry. She went to a window, and saw it would be too small for her to take off from, even if they could be opened.

Miles lowered his head to the keyhole and looked inside of it. The lock was fairly large, with pins that could be examined through the hole. “I might have an idea,” Miles answered as his horn started to glow. A few of the pins glowed and shuddered as Miles prodded them with magic. Every few moments Miles would try the door and hiss another invective before trying again. Eventually the door clicked and Miles was able to swing the door open. “Yes!” he shouted, before looking up.

“Nonononono!” he yelled. The wind rushed by his face as the other train car grew distant. His horn glowed, as he reached out to do something to bring the lagging locomotive up to speed. “Gah... SHIT!” he screamed as an ache in his horn built up to a crescendo before finally cutting off the flow of magic. “Monica! Fly over to the engine car and do what you can to slow down this train!”

The olive-maned pegasus nodded and took off to the air, flying with all haste to the engine car.

Miles was left alone to try and see what was going on in the other cars. The ache in his horn continued to build even though he wasn’t casting anything. “Come on, show a sign...”

Just then a slight lurch rocked the train and Miles was nearly sent over the railing. He looked up and smiled as he saw that now the other cars began to catch up to where he was standing.

Monica returned from the front of the train with a panicked expression on her face. “Miles!” she called out, landing beside the unicorn as he shifted on his hooves, waiting for the train car to get closer. “I got to the engineering car and pulled the emergency brakes. I got back as soon as I could after I told the engineer what was going on. Help is going to be here soon.”

“That’s great!, but we could really use that coupling pin!” Miles said. He pulled his head back as though it would bring the cars closer. “See if you can find it, pegasus eyes are pretty good compared to other ponies right?”

“Yeah, got it, I’ll try and find the pin!” With that the lime pegasus bolted off the train again and sped past the last cars in search of the pin to bind the train back together.

Willard was facing the yellow pegasus, his eyes fixed on the stallion before him. He lowered his head and hoofed at the wooden paneling of the train car. The pegasus gave him an equally baleful glare.

“Colt, if you took the time to read these papers you’d find a rather consistent trend regarding what happens to book burners,” Willard said. “Give it up, you can still cut your losses and run.”

“Even reborn in the light you still cling to the stain of humanity?” the pegasus questioned, shaking his head pityingly. “These things, they should not be seen by our benefactors, by our foals, and theirs beyond that; they are the shame of a past we must relinquish if we are to become perfect.”

“Well then, if you won’t read your textbooks, they have a darn good heft to them.”

Willard charged the yellow stallion and spun on his front hooves, kicking back into... nothingness. The colt had launched himself into the air before coming back down and landing on Willard’s back. The added weight pile-drived the earth pony’s hips into the floor. Willard used his front legs for leverage and flipped himself onto his back. His hooves were now level with his assailant, and he gave a jab, sacrificing power for speed and accuracy. There was still enough force to send the pegasus into ceiling, splintering the wood.

Willard got onto his hooves and charged again, this time leaping at the stallion as he recovered. The prospective saboteur moved, trying to dodge, but came up short, and was pinned to the ground. Willard’s hooves set themselves on the pegasus’ wings and he smiled.

“Let’s see you flitter around now!”

The pegasus tucked in his rear hooves and bucked Willard, barely knocking him over and escaping his hold. Shaking himself, Willard looked at the PER pony.

“Colt, you got too many limbs.”

In response, the pegasus launched himself at Willard, forcing the two of them through a crate and sending papers flying. The pegasus wrapped his hooves around Willard’s chest and barrel, dragging him through the busted-down door to the exterior of the train. Willard began struggling against the stallion as they pulled upwards. Two dozen feet in the air above the train, Willard backhoofed the pegasus and was dropped. He landed and rolled on the roof of the car. He could see that the rest of the train seemed to be slowing down and getting closer to him.

The pegasus landed a foot in front of Willard facing away and let fly a hoof towards his face. Willard lifted a leg to in time to block the intended strike. The pegasus pulled his hoof back after it hit Willard’s and shook it in pain, as though he had tried kicking a solid brick wall. Taking a gamble, Willard swung his head forward, making contact with the pegasus and tripping him up. As the pegasus attempted to regain balance, Willard turned around and bucked him off the train. The PER agent pony hit the ground below and rolled a few dozen feet. Willard saw the colt get up and look at the train as it continued onwards. His wing was twisted, and he ran in the opposite direction of train.

Darting along the opposite side of the rail line, a green dot was quickly approaching. Willard recognized his niece as she drew close, the coupling pin clasped in her teeth. She flew past him and Willard turned to see that the train cars were almost together. He watched as Monica let Miles grasp the pin in his magic and put it into place. The archives shipment had been saved. Willard walked to the edge of the roof he was on and glanced over the edge.

“Do you think you could help me down from here Monica?” he called out.

The green pegasus nodded and soon lifted Willard down off the roof. Miles had stepped just inside the doorway when he reached up to his horn. “Next time, no trying to grab the train,” he muttered before slumping to the ground and snoring softly

“That really took it out of him, didn’t it?” Monica asked, rushing to his side.

“Yeah, it did. Let’s get him somewhere comfortable, and try to wake up the guards.” Willard looked down on Miles and smiled. “He’s going to be rather pleased when he wakes up.”

Miles groaned as sounds reached his ears and caused them to twitch and adjust. He winced his eyes once and opened them. He was on his side on a bench and found himself looking out of a window to a setting sun on the horizon. He could see that there were more forests as compared to open grasslands from earlier. Very far off, Miles could see mountain ranges.

“About time you got up sleepy head,” a familiar male voice chuckled.

Miles stood up and looked around. Willard was standing there beside Monica.

“Yeah well, it’s not everyday you have to pull along a locomotive train. Guess the instructors were right, unicorns are able to cast spells much more easily in Equestria,” Miles commented.

“Feel any different?” Willard asked.

“No, why? Did something happen to me?” Miles reached around himself with a forelimb and palpitated himself quickly. “Is it my horn? What happened? Did something break? Why don’t I feel hurt?”

“Relax,” Monica soothed, “just look at your flank.”

Miles immediately complied and there on his flank was a newly formed cutie mark. It was a rook chess piece with an opened door at the base of it. Floating above the door, highlighted on the black of the tower, was a brass-colored key. “Huh,” the grey unicorn said. “Master of lockpicking. Great.”

“I remember some of the others in the squad two years back always calling you ‘rookie’ now it looks like you lost the I and E.” Willard walked to his friend and lay a hoof on his shoulders. “You did good colt. If I ever need someone to help me out, you’ll be first on my list.”

“Thanks, but uuuuh...” Miles looked at a royal guard watching them. “Hey, uh, guard guy, when are we arriving in Canterlot?”

“We should be there by midday tomorrow,” the armored pegasus answered. “We got all the papers back into their boxes, and we went back to gather that PER operative. He’s in the clink with his friends now,” the guard continued with a slight accent of derision at the mention of the yellow pegasus. “I’d recommend you all get some sleep, you’ll want to be well rested for when you visit Canterlot.”

With that the ponies dispersed and went off to eat and sleep.

Miles was lying on his bunk, curled into something that resembled a foetal position. His tail was tucked between his legs. Hope Princess Celestia is as merciful as they say. What could I say to her to convince her that I wouldn’t hurt anypony without provocation? That I’m sorry for what I did? That I’m ready to help out?

Miles absentmindedly reached down to his flank and stroked the newly formed cutie mark. “Lockpicking, I just had to get something that brands me as a troublemaker,” he whispered. He lifted his hoof before his face and simply stared at it for a minute. In his mind’s eye he could still imagine his fingers. Different shape, but they still did things I wish I could take back. Miles grasped his cyan tail and stroked it like a pet or a distressed child; the motion comforted him somewhat.

Miles shut his eyes and was immediately shown images he’d sooner forget. “Yes, I’ll do anything to keep fighting the PER.” A wad of foul bile worked up his throat as the memory passed.

The room ended in a wall with a barren concrete surface, unadorned except by faded blood stains and a few metal rings. A hand passes a set of bindings over to a tech, who brings five ponies to the wall and chains them to it. The other steps out of the room immediately, hoping for reassignment.

Miles swallowed down the bile before taking a deep breath. “I didn’t pull it; I didn’t pull the trigger; I didn’t kill those ones; didn’t pull it, didn’t pull it, didn’t pull it.”

An explosion rocks the exterior of the building. A man steps through and immediately catches an armored PER trooper in his sights. Aim. Squeeze. Keep moving. A PER soldier lifts up a potion grenade. Aim. Squeeze. The shot hits the white glove of the soldier, dropping the grenade beside him. Purple smoke. A prone form shifting and twisting on the ground. Two more rounds in the head, now belonging a mindless drone under Celestia’s control.

Miles lifted his head and brought it down against the mattress feebly. I still think, still wish this hadn’t happened this way, but... I have to make do with my past.

An augment sprints across the street. He leans out and fires a few rounds towards the PER and continues on. An officer yells. Another soldier runs across the street. A striking sensation against the neck. Cramping, then blackness.

Booming sounds in the distance, ears don’t feel right. Look down at chest, grey fur. Flail arms, feel fist strike the ground, look at it, hand is gone. See a gloved hand in view. Look at soldier, scream at him for mercy, and point uselessly at his pistol.

“Even this part,” Miles whispered as he continued stroking his tail. “Something happens, plan, adapt, make due with the world.” Miles smiled as he looked down on his body. “Nothing more human than that.”

Comments

[MetBoy]

Another interesting chapter... It might be interesting to debate the PER on the issue of book burning. 'Cuz when you think about the worst of human history, in the modern era at least, much of it involves book burning.
And even if there is no good in a specific book, a specific part of human history, knowing what went wrong will keep you from making the same mistakes.

[Westphalian_Musketeer]

1975724 Well, the PER aren't really ones to debate by this point, with ten years to form an official policy. They're convinced that those who don't wish to convert don't know what's good for them. "They" (scare quotes because like any organization there are some differences among members) believe that shedding humanity, all of it, including our past, and I do mean all of it, will make the people happier and better.

Though as a writer I have to ask, was the fight scene something you could visualize?

[MetBoy]

1975919
Kinda sorta, but I don't really read for fight scenes... What I had some confusion with was the train cars decoupling.

[ngrey651]

How am I gonna put this...what's the point of having humans consider what it means to be a human if none of the characters are human anymore or can be turned back INTO a human? You're just kinda stalling until the eventual horrific ponyfication of all Earth, which, need I remind you, Earth doesn't need.