In The Presence of Enemiesby HadjiiChaptersGood Morning!Status ReportAftermathPapers, please.Good Morning!"Good morning!" Jordan sat up and tried to open his eyes, only to be blinded by the brilliant sunlight, closing them again. It felt for some reason like he was sitting on grass and not a mattress. He was also outside, which is not how he remembered sleeping last night. The happy voice asked "What is your full name?" "Uh, Jordan. Jordan Green." There was the sound of a pencil scratching against paper, muffled slightly by the breeze. "What date do you remember last?" Jordan wasn't sure how to respond to that. Even if he were properly awake instead of still half asleep, he'd still be a little confused. It took a moment to remember, but Jordan responded. "August 23rd of 2011." "Your country and/or state of most recent residence?" At that, Jordan was annoyed. "What kind of ques-" Any train of thought he could possibly have had was cut off when he opened his eyes. There were not one, but two things in front of him that fit perfectly on the list of "stuff Jordan does not expect to see when he wakes up". One was a lime green unicorn, probably female by her voice, suspending a clipboard and pencil in front of her in a yellow glow. The other was a red-headed human female who looked to be in her twenties, in a military uniform with a scoped rifle sitting comfortably in her hands. This was a little alarming, but the rifle was pointed at the ground, and though he didn't notice it, her finger was off the trigger, and he did see that both of them were smiling. "Your country and/or state of most recent residence?" Jordan blinked repeatedly and shook his head in an attempt to clear the cobwebs from his head. "United States of America. Colorado, specifically." he added. "Thank you. One last question. How many days are in a year?" Something about the unicorn's friendliness and the woman's firearm dissuaded any snarky replies he was considering. "Three hundred and sixty five. Unless it's a leap year, then there's an extra one." The unicorn smiled more, and the human stepped forward and extended her hand down to him. "Welcome to Equestria, Jordan. My name is Sarah Raleigh, and this is Lyra Heartstrings." Jordan shook hands with Sarah, then her hand shifted into a firmer grip, and he accepted her help in pulling him up. Jordan looked from Sarah down to Lyra. "Equestria? Unicorns? ... Magic?" Lyra replied "Unicorns. And pegasi. And earth ponies. And all sorts of other mythical creatures." "Ah." After a moment of silence, Sarah pointed off into the distance, where Jordan saw a town. "Well, come on then! You've got a lot of stuff to do before you're a proper legal citizen." Sarah and Lyra walked off, and Jordan followed. "How did I get here?" Lyra looked back. "Nopony knows. One day, humans just started appearing. The early months were chaotic, but we've pretty much got a system down now, even for predicting when and where the next one will most likely be, which is how we found you." "How many of us are there?" "Almost a thousand." "Wow." The trio continued their walk for a few minutes. "So, uh, Sarah, why do you have a gun?" "I am a soldier of Hay Company. Lyra and I are the primary retrieval team." "Okay. ... What's Hay Company?" Status ReportSeveral Months Later The doors to the Solar Court burst open. A small part of Celestia's mind wondered why ponies kept doing that, seemingly for dramatic effect, when there were so many other doors already open. The officer who had entered did not keep with the fast pace of his entrance, and instead stoically walked to the throne and bowed. Celestia held up a hoof to pause the current discourse, and looked expectantly at the intruder, somewhat grateful for the interruption. "Your Majesty, I have a report." Indeed, thought Celestia. "What is your report?" "Ponyville is under attack by the Grey Minotaur Legion." He seems awfully calm about this. "Have we sent reinforcements?" "None were necessary. Hay Company was there." Celestia very faintly smiled. Oh. I see. "Evidently, today is some sort of holiday for many of their members, about celebrating independence from an oppressing nation. The celebrations involve a large quantity of, among other things, fireworks." Celestia's smile grew more. Those poor minotaurs... interrupting a celebration like that? "The situation is under control. Given Hay Company's ... inclinations, and past performances, I would not be surprised if the assault is already being repelled with gusto and colorful fire." "Very well. Thank you, Solid Hoof. You may return to your post." As Solid Hoof walked back out, Celestia's smile faded, and she regretfully returned to her inane activity that if one were feeling generous, could be called a conversation, and more accurately called a "one pony absent-mindedly listening to a door-to-door salespony noble trying to establish a monopoly on the sale of iron fence posts in Canterlot", though that was a bit of a mouthful. Contrary to her dealings with most of the "nobility", Celestia made it a point to know as many of her ponies names as practical. In the past, this was a mere courtesy, but with the constant threat of rogue Changeling spies, it was actually quite reasonable. She supposed it was amusing that she met with this noble at least once every other week for the past ten years, and wasn't sure what his name was, whereas this officer who looked barely older than a colt had his favorite color known by a princess who ruled over thousands upon thousands : Yellow. It was a little bit unfair, perhaps. Though this noble's requests were always a little ridiculous, and often obnoxious, she couldn't remember a time when he had ever been angry, either in the usual sense or in the noblepony sense where you go through further political machinations to get what you wanted, and whoever was in your way down several pay grades, or some retaliation that could be had against a princess. It was even possible to discuss his ideas after he had finished presenting them. When he finishes presenting them in the per-pony time limit, which he doesn't always do. Ah, but he just did! Celestia quickly formulated a response. "That is a very interesting proposal. I believe I shall refer your case to Chief of City Maintenance Martin and Second Market Adviser Shelby." The noble blinked, and seemed to be taken aback. "Those are... interesting names. Are they the new pon- err, humans I believe?" "Indeed. They have proven to be most effective at their jobs. Will their species be a problem?" asked Celestia as she showed her absolute perfection in the art of subtly raising one eyebrow just enough that the target knew they were in trouble, but weren't sure how they knew. "No, Your Majesty. I was merely surprised that they had attained such titles so rapidly. Thank you." Celestia called one of her couriers forward. "Fleet Wing, would you please find Martin and Shelby, and take Sir..." She indicated with her hoof the noble. "Marble Pillar." "...Marble Pillar, and lead him to a meeting with them?" Fleet Wing saluted, "Yes, ma'am," and trotted off with Marble Pillar in tow. One noble down, an infinity to go. Celestia sighed, and wondered how Ponyville fared. She did not worry about the battle. There was a very good chance that Hay Company had already claimed victory. The battle was over, but Hay Company had not yet declared victory. What they had declared was that the battle was not over until all the flames from excessive use of firework-based combat had been put out. If a quarter of Ponyville was burned down, again, as collateral by Hay Company, again, then they would probably face severe discipline, again. Celestia would approve of this decision when she heard it, as although these humans tended to think of everything, almost Discordian levels of chaos ensued when there was something that they forgot. AftermathJordan was very grateful for the new fire extinguishers. All of the stuff that Aperture Laboratories, PONY division [sic] came up with was fantastic, when it worked. He had decided a long time ago that he would not ask what was wrong with the versions beforehand, after peeking at a changelog for their Finnish Pocket Knife and seeing that one of the statements said "r109 - Fixed problem with comb turning human hair into granite when comb is covered in apple juice, or [REDACTED] with grape juice. Refunds and hair repair available". He also decided that their name was some sort of joke or reference, but he didn't really care enough to ask about it. Let them have their fun. Using the extinguisher was a lot like using a leaf blower, only less bulky, less weighty, less loud, and spraying white sparkly snow-like powder that was very effective versus the flames, and disappeared in seconds without a trace, very un-snow-like. Oh, if only firefighters back home could get their hands on hardware like this... Jordan sighed. Home. It had been around three months for him now. He had basically adjusted to his new, crazy life here, but remembering his family was, as always, a bit painful. He did not have the best relations with his mom, and given that Jordan had somehow ended up in Equestria, there might not even be some sort of deity who knew where his dad was, but they were still his family. That was something he had learned about here. The importance of friends and family here far outshone that of Earth. It was a bit of a Catch-22. In order for him to learn to really care about his family, he had to go to Equestria. But now that he was in Equestria, he no longer had his old friends and family, only his new ones. Speaking of new friends, "Hey, Keith." Keith rolled his eyes, but smiled and said "That's Sergeant Keith to you, maggot." Keith then did something a little bit odd. Well, more odd than usual. Keith had already been drinking a mug of... whatever it was that Keith drank, but then he walked over to a knee-high boulder, put one foot on it, looked dramatically into the distance, and took a sip. "Ahhh... I love the smell of a kicked minotaur in the morning." There was a brief pause. Jordan shrugged. "I don't get it." Keith scowled. "Uncultured scrublord." "Unrepentant fish." Keith gave Jordan a blank look, then grinned. "Oh, I get it, drink like a fish... that's good. Though for the last time, this is NOT booze. I don't drink." "Then what is it? The last time someone else tried it they were literally hospitalized for drinking four ounces!" "The details of the twenty-five ingredients that make up my preferred beverage are classified, by me, and I thought the Major said no more daring people to drink it." "That's what made him edit that onto the rules board. Aren't you going to do something besides banter with me and maybe I dunno help me?" Keith looked sheepish. "Uh... I'm a class N for firefighting. And I thought you liked moral support." Jordan stopped his efforts for a moment and stared astounded at Keith. That was the second worst possible ranking for any job. Specifically, it meant that he was not legally allowed to do a given task, in this case firefighting, unless it was clearly an emergency and there was nobody else available, because he was so very terrible at it that he was more likely than not to somehow make the situation worse. Jordan returned to "Well, I guess I owe Hailey ten bits now. Unless, of course, she lied to me and she actually does have open access to those sort of personnel records." "Bro. You've known Hailey for like a month now, and you still haven't figured out that betting against her is a bad idea? Also, she does." Jordan growled. He was about to give some sort of retort, but then his eyes opened wide. "Wait. Spray that body again, right there." Keith did so, and the minotaur twitched. "Holy crap, it's alive! Properly alive, too, not like most of them." Keith put the extinguisher on the ground, and both of them inspected the minotaur, gingerly removing as little armor as possible. "Burns everywhere, of course. Any other injuries that you can find?" asked Keith. "Nothing broken or too heavily bleeding, though the right ankle is twisted. Wonder what put them out?" "Hmm... Looks like one of the mortars hit -uh, her, I think, in the side of the head, and between the collision and the explosion, she probably has a severe concussion and will be very unhappy waking up. Right then." Keith pulled a black box from his pack, pushed a few buttons and spoke into it. "Responder Papa, this is Mobile Two Five Zero. We've got a live capture, requesting medical transport." There was chatter on the other end of the line, but Jordan was a bit lost in thought while looking at the fallen minotaur. She probably doesn't know anything herself, he thought, Just like the others we've captured. Aperture Labs will still derive an astounding amount of data anyways. They're crazy smart like that. Jordan shook his head. If I didn't know any of them, I'd feel sorry for anything we sent over there. Well, really sorry. They're weird but not psycho. I think. Papers, please.Several Months Earlier Ponyville was nice and homey. The ponies, and occasional human, were all very friendly. It was weird, nobody seemed to be bothered by Sarah's rifle. He wondered why this was, and looked over at Sarah. Then he wondered where the rifle went. He remembered her putting it away on her back, but it seemed to have disappeared. After a few seconds of mulling it over and coming up with nothing, he guessed it couldn't hurt to ask. "Sarah? I thought you had a gun." "I do." "Well, where is it?" "What do you mean where is it?" She was holding the rifle in her hands again. Jordan blinked, did a double-take, did a triple-take, blinked, scratched his head, and tried to not be irritated by the smug grin on her face. He did not succeed. "How'd you do that?" "The techies over at Aperture Labs would probably start geeking out about 'pocket dimensions' or something, so I'll just tell you that I have it when I want it, and I don't have it when I don't want it, and you and I probably don't want to know how that actually works. Got it?" "Got it." The rifle went away again as they approached a building with more humans milling about it than anywhere else. It matched the architecture, look and theme of the other houses in town, minus the armed guard standing at attention outside. When they reached the door, Sarah sighed and asked "Chuck, what did you do this time?" Jordan looked around. Nobody seemed to be responding. "Did you put hot sauce in the drinking fountain again? Is getting living statue duty really worth it?" "Let me guess. This guy's Chuck." "Yeah. He ends up out here at least once per week," said Sarah she led Jordan and Lyra into the building. "He'd probably get kicked out if we were a normal militia." "Am I being conscripted?" "No. You're being green carded, as they say in the USA. Enlistment is optional, but common for reasons you'll learn later." "Umm, is there a consequence for not enlisting that makes it common?" "No. You'll understand, later." They had now arrived and stopped in front of a desk which had a dark grey pony without wings or a horn typing at something that looked like a mix of a keyboard and a typewriter, if typewriters and keyboards had two inch wide keys. The motions of the pony typing were a little bit mesmerizing. They looked like a drummer playing the fastest, craziest drum solo ever. The pony even appeared to be using some sort of foot pedal on the ground. Or would that be a hoof pedal? wondered Jordan. There was a wide, flat, semitransparent glass sheet above the keyboard. Hoofboard? It probably has to be bigger because ponies don't have fingers. I should really ask what all of these are called. Lyra placed the clipboard on the desk and spoke. "Hey, Rapid Beat. We've got the new guy." "I trust you two have got this, and won't lead him too far astray?" asked Sarah. "Yeah, if Rapid here would ever pay attention to anything else." The pony in question made a hissing sound and bared their teeth momentarily. "You tame the vicious beast and I'll go write our report. See you around, Jordan." Without looking away from the sheet (Computer Screen? Ack! No more speculation!), Rapid Beat continued their typing with their left hoof, and picked up the clipboard in their right. They then stuck the clipboard to the screen much the same way one might a sticker. Jordan noticed that Rapid Beat had what looked like a laser pointer stuck to the side of their hoof, and was pointing it at different places on the screen. The lens seemed to change colors occasionally, and sometimes rapidly. If he were speculating, and Jordan forcefully reminded himself that he was not doing that, nor curious about all these things that were clearly human inventions adapted for ponies, he would guess that was a mouse. Again, he was not speculating at all. Nope. "Alright. So, Jordan," said Rapid Beat as she looked at him briefly, "Lyra here forgot a question." "Did not! You told me to let you ask it!" Rapid Beat stuck her tongue out at Lyra then asked Jordan "What's your favorite color?" "I don't really get the point of all these questions. ... Blue, if you must know, but why?" "Because it may help us figure out where all you humans came from." Jordan rolled his eyes and chuckled. Then he realized that nobody else was chuckling. Or grinning. "Wait, seriously?" Rapid Beat answered his question while continuing her constant typing. "Yes. Out of the thousand humans that have come here, there should be around fifty or so that like orange the most. There are none. The odds of that happening is something like one in a million billion billion. We don't know why, or what it means, but there it is. Along with most of the humans being from America, and the second most common being Canada. All speaking English. And English being almost exactly the same as Equestrian." Jordan was surprised. Those were all some very good points, that raised some very tough questions. It was a bit strange that talking ponies, magic, flying ponies and being woken up by a girl with a gun were the okay things that happened today, and a simple question like "What's your favorite color?" was a little bit scary. "Makes sense. Sortof." Rapid Beat halted her typing for a moment and pointed at a few places on the screen again. Then she placed a glass sheet made of a similar material to the screen onto the desk, in front of Jordan. "Sign this, please." Jordan did so, and Rapid took the sheet and stuck it onto the screen, much as she had the clipboard. "Congratulations, Jordan. You're now a legal immigrant, and most of the way to becoming a full citizen. Lyra, take him to Evaluation, please?" "Yep. Come on, Jordan." Jordan followed Lyra back out of the building. "Evaluation?" "To become a full citizen, we have to get your medical information and task proficiencies." "Why do you need to know that I'm terrible at math to make me a citizen?" "Because being unemployed as a human is illegal, comrade!" Jordan stared silently at Lyra in fake horror at her blatant communism, while she held her poker face. "Just kidding. Mostly. If 'Homeless Bum' and 'Underwater Basketweaving Expert' are on the list of potential jobs, which they actually are, then it's basically legal to be unemployed." "Really? Underwater Basketweaving?" "Yep. We've only got the one, and she makes a killing as an underwater stage act in some places." "And who's the Homeless Bum?" "Can't remember his name, but he's over in Manehattan right now-" "Manehattan?" "-Yes. More weird similarities. Anyways, he keeps an eye on the streets and reports any unusual activity. Like a month ago, he basically saved the entire city by reporting that trash in the sewers had become sentient. No, I'm not joking. They actually had to evacuate almost a fifth of the city." "That's..." Jordan tried to think of something to say, but there wasn't really anything to say. Lyra said something for him. "Crazy? Ridiculous? Awesome? Hilarious? Astounding? Surprising? All of the above?" "All of the above." They stopped in front of what looked basically like one concrete outhouse in a large row of concrete houses, only the others said "Entrance" or "Exit" while his said "New". Jordan coughed. "Let me guess. This is an elevator entrance to a giant underground complex where they conduct all sorts of crazy science experiments." "No, that would be those outhouses." said Lyra as she pointed to another row of outhouses about 40 yards away. "Those are for Aperture Laboratories, PONY division. This one is for the SCP Foundation, though there is a large underground tunnel connecting the two." "What does SCP stand for?" "I dunno, it's some nerd joke I think." Jordan shook his head. "Down the rabbit hole, I guess." Lyra opened the door for Jordan, and he entered. "Good luck with your testing! See ya!" she exclaimed as she shut the door. There was a sink and a mirror, and a light in the roof, but no toilet, only a lever. Just out of idle curiosity, he looked into the mirror to see just what he looked like. I wonder if everyone's just too polite to point it out or if nobody cares that I have leaves in my hair from waking up under that tree. They did seem to be pretty used to this sort of thing, so I guess maybe it's both. Though there's something that's bothering me. What is it? What's missing? Jordan continued searching his face, then realized that he wasn't wearing his glasses. He retrieved them from his pocket, and smiled at himself. Perfect. Jordan walked over to the lever and pulled it. The sink and mirror retracted into the wall, Jordan felt a few butterflies in his stomach as the elevator descended.
Good Morning!"Good morning!" Jordan sat up and tried to open his eyes, only to be blinded by the brilliant sunlight, closing them again. It felt for some reason like he was sitting on grass and not a mattress. He was also outside, which is not how he remembered sleeping last night. The happy voice asked "What is your full name?" "Uh, Jordan. Jordan Green." There was the sound of a pencil scratching against paper, muffled slightly by the breeze. "What date do you remember last?" Jordan wasn't sure how to respond to that. Even if he were properly awake instead of still half asleep, he'd still be a little confused. It took a moment to remember, but Jordan responded. "August 23rd of 2011." "Your country and/or state of most recent residence?" At that, Jordan was annoyed. "What kind of ques-" Any train of thought he could possibly have had was cut off when he opened his eyes. There were not one, but two things in front of him that fit perfectly on the list of "stuff Jordan does not expect to see when he wakes up". One was a lime green unicorn, probably female by her voice, suspending a clipboard and pencil in front of her in a yellow glow. The other was a red-headed human female who looked to be in her twenties, in a military uniform with a scoped rifle sitting comfortably in her hands. This was a little alarming, but the rifle was pointed at the ground, and though he didn't notice it, her finger was off the trigger, and he did see that both of them were smiling. "Your country and/or state of most recent residence?" Jordan blinked repeatedly and shook his head in an attempt to clear the cobwebs from his head. "United States of America. Colorado, specifically." he added. "Thank you. One last question. How many days are in a year?" Something about the unicorn's friendliness and the woman's firearm dissuaded any snarky replies he was considering. "Three hundred and sixty five. Unless it's a leap year, then there's an extra one." The unicorn smiled more, and the human stepped forward and extended her hand down to him. "Welcome to Equestria, Jordan. My name is Sarah Raleigh, and this is Lyra Heartstrings." Jordan shook hands with Sarah, then her hand shifted into a firmer grip, and he accepted her help in pulling him up. Jordan looked from Sarah down to Lyra. "Equestria? Unicorns? ... Magic?" Lyra replied "Unicorns. And pegasi. And earth ponies. And all sorts of other mythical creatures." "Ah." After a moment of silence, Sarah pointed off into the distance, where Jordan saw a town. "Well, come on then! You've got a lot of stuff to do before you're a proper legal citizen." Sarah and Lyra walked off, and Jordan followed. "How did I get here?" Lyra looked back. "Nopony knows. One day, humans just started appearing. The early months were chaotic, but we've pretty much got a system down now, even for predicting when and where the next one will most likely be, which is how we found you." "How many of us are there?" "Almost a thousand." "Wow." The trio continued their walk for a few minutes. "So, uh, Sarah, why do you have a gun?" "I am a soldier of Hay Company. Lyra and I are the primary retrieval team." "Okay. ... What's Hay Company?"
Status ReportSeveral Months Later The doors to the Solar Court burst open. A small part of Celestia's mind wondered why ponies kept doing that, seemingly for dramatic effect, when there were so many other doors already open. The officer who had entered did not keep with the fast pace of his entrance, and instead stoically walked to the throne and bowed. Celestia held up a hoof to pause the current discourse, and looked expectantly at the intruder, somewhat grateful for the interruption. "Your Majesty, I have a report." Indeed, thought Celestia. "What is your report?" "Ponyville is under attack by the Grey Minotaur Legion." He seems awfully calm about this. "Have we sent reinforcements?" "None were necessary. Hay Company was there." Celestia very faintly smiled. Oh. I see. "Evidently, today is some sort of holiday for many of their members, about celebrating independence from an oppressing nation. The celebrations involve a large quantity of, among other things, fireworks." Celestia's smile grew more. Those poor minotaurs... interrupting a celebration like that? "The situation is under control. Given Hay Company's ... inclinations, and past performances, I would not be surprised if the assault is already being repelled with gusto and colorful fire." "Very well. Thank you, Solid Hoof. You may return to your post." As Solid Hoof walked back out, Celestia's smile faded, and she regretfully returned to her inane activity that if one were feeling generous, could be called a conversation, and more accurately called a "one pony absent-mindedly listening to a door-to-door salespony noble trying to establish a monopoly on the sale of iron fence posts in Canterlot", though that was a bit of a mouthful. Contrary to her dealings with most of the "nobility", Celestia made it a point to know as many of her ponies names as practical. In the past, this was a mere courtesy, but with the constant threat of rogue Changeling spies, it was actually quite reasonable. She supposed it was amusing that she met with this noble at least once every other week for the past ten years, and wasn't sure what his name was, whereas this officer who looked barely older than a colt had his favorite color known by a princess who ruled over thousands upon thousands : Yellow. It was a little bit unfair, perhaps. Though this noble's requests were always a little ridiculous, and often obnoxious, she couldn't remember a time when he had ever been angry, either in the usual sense or in the noblepony sense where you go through further political machinations to get what you wanted, and whoever was in your way down several pay grades, or some retaliation that could be had against a princess. It was even possible to discuss his ideas after he had finished presenting them. When he finishes presenting them in the per-pony time limit, which he doesn't always do. Ah, but he just did! Celestia quickly formulated a response. "That is a very interesting proposal. I believe I shall refer your case to Chief of City Maintenance Martin and Second Market Adviser Shelby." The noble blinked, and seemed to be taken aback. "Those are... interesting names. Are they the new pon- err, humans I believe?" "Indeed. They have proven to be most effective at their jobs. Will their species be a problem?" asked Celestia as she showed her absolute perfection in the art of subtly raising one eyebrow just enough that the target knew they were in trouble, but weren't sure how they knew. "No, Your Majesty. I was merely surprised that they had attained such titles so rapidly. Thank you." Celestia called one of her couriers forward. "Fleet Wing, would you please find Martin and Shelby, and take Sir..." She indicated with her hoof the noble. "Marble Pillar." "...Marble Pillar, and lead him to a meeting with them?" Fleet Wing saluted, "Yes, ma'am," and trotted off with Marble Pillar in tow. One noble down, an infinity to go. Celestia sighed, and wondered how Ponyville fared. She did not worry about the battle. There was a very good chance that Hay Company had already claimed victory. The battle was over, but Hay Company had not yet declared victory. What they had declared was that the battle was not over until all the flames from excessive use of firework-based combat had been put out. If a quarter of Ponyville was burned down, again, as collateral by Hay Company, again, then they would probably face severe discipline, again. Celestia would approve of this decision when she heard it, as although these humans tended to think of everything, almost Discordian levels of chaos ensued when there was something that they forgot.
AftermathJordan was very grateful for the new fire extinguishers. All of the stuff that Aperture Laboratories, PONY division [sic] came up with was fantastic, when it worked. He had decided a long time ago that he would not ask what was wrong with the versions beforehand, after peeking at a changelog for their Finnish Pocket Knife and seeing that one of the statements said "r109 - Fixed problem with comb turning human hair into granite when comb is covered in apple juice, or [REDACTED] with grape juice. Refunds and hair repair available". He also decided that their name was some sort of joke or reference, but he didn't really care enough to ask about it. Let them have their fun. Using the extinguisher was a lot like using a leaf blower, only less bulky, less weighty, less loud, and spraying white sparkly snow-like powder that was very effective versus the flames, and disappeared in seconds without a trace, very un-snow-like. Oh, if only firefighters back home could get their hands on hardware like this... Jordan sighed. Home. It had been around three months for him now. He had basically adjusted to his new, crazy life here, but remembering his family was, as always, a bit painful. He did not have the best relations with his mom, and given that Jordan had somehow ended up in Equestria, there might not even be some sort of deity who knew where his dad was, but they were still his family. That was something he had learned about here. The importance of friends and family here far outshone that of Earth. It was a bit of a Catch-22. In order for him to learn to really care about his family, he had to go to Equestria. But now that he was in Equestria, he no longer had his old friends and family, only his new ones. Speaking of new friends, "Hey, Keith." Keith rolled his eyes, but smiled and said "That's Sergeant Keith to you, maggot." Keith then did something a little bit odd. Well, more odd than usual. Keith had already been drinking a mug of... whatever it was that Keith drank, but then he walked over to a knee-high boulder, put one foot on it, looked dramatically into the distance, and took a sip. "Ahhh... I love the smell of a kicked minotaur in the morning." There was a brief pause. Jordan shrugged. "I don't get it." Keith scowled. "Uncultured scrublord." "Unrepentant fish." Keith gave Jordan a blank look, then grinned. "Oh, I get it, drink like a fish... that's good. Though for the last time, this is NOT booze. I don't drink." "Then what is it? The last time someone else tried it they were literally hospitalized for drinking four ounces!" "The details of the twenty-five ingredients that make up my preferred beverage are classified, by me, and I thought the Major said no more daring people to drink it." "That's what made him edit that onto the rules board. Aren't you going to do something besides banter with me and maybe I dunno help me?" Keith looked sheepish. "Uh... I'm a class N for firefighting. And I thought you liked moral support." Jordan stopped his efforts for a moment and stared astounded at Keith. That was the second worst possible ranking for any job. Specifically, it meant that he was not legally allowed to do a given task, in this case firefighting, unless it was clearly an emergency and there was nobody else available, because he was so very terrible at it that he was more likely than not to somehow make the situation worse. Jordan returned to "Well, I guess I owe Hailey ten bits now. Unless, of course, she lied to me and she actually does have open access to those sort of personnel records." "Bro. You've known Hailey for like a month now, and you still haven't figured out that betting against her is a bad idea? Also, she does." Jordan growled. He was about to give some sort of retort, but then his eyes opened wide. "Wait. Spray that body again, right there." Keith did so, and the minotaur twitched. "Holy crap, it's alive! Properly alive, too, not like most of them." Keith put the extinguisher on the ground, and both of them inspected the minotaur, gingerly removing as little armor as possible. "Burns everywhere, of course. Any other injuries that you can find?" asked Keith. "Nothing broken or too heavily bleeding, though the right ankle is twisted. Wonder what put them out?" "Hmm... Looks like one of the mortars hit -uh, her, I think, in the side of the head, and between the collision and the explosion, she probably has a severe concussion and will be very unhappy waking up. Right then." Keith pulled a black box from his pack, pushed a few buttons and spoke into it. "Responder Papa, this is Mobile Two Five Zero. We've got a live capture, requesting medical transport." There was chatter on the other end of the line, but Jordan was a bit lost in thought while looking at the fallen minotaur. She probably doesn't know anything herself, he thought, Just like the others we've captured. Aperture Labs will still derive an astounding amount of data anyways. They're crazy smart like that. Jordan shook his head. If I didn't know any of them, I'd feel sorry for anything we sent over there. Well, really sorry. They're weird but not psycho. I think.
Papers, please.Several Months Earlier Ponyville was nice and homey. The ponies, and occasional human, were all very friendly. It was weird, nobody seemed to be bothered by Sarah's rifle. He wondered why this was, and looked over at Sarah. Then he wondered where the rifle went. He remembered her putting it away on her back, but it seemed to have disappeared. After a few seconds of mulling it over and coming up with nothing, he guessed it couldn't hurt to ask. "Sarah? I thought you had a gun." "I do." "Well, where is it?" "What do you mean where is it?" She was holding the rifle in her hands again. Jordan blinked, did a double-take, did a triple-take, blinked, scratched his head, and tried to not be irritated by the smug grin on her face. He did not succeed. "How'd you do that?" "The techies over at Aperture Labs would probably start geeking out about 'pocket dimensions' or something, so I'll just tell you that I have it when I want it, and I don't have it when I don't want it, and you and I probably don't want to know how that actually works. Got it?" "Got it." The rifle went away again as they approached a building with more humans milling about it than anywhere else. It matched the architecture, look and theme of the other houses in town, minus the armed guard standing at attention outside. When they reached the door, Sarah sighed and asked "Chuck, what did you do this time?" Jordan looked around. Nobody seemed to be responding. "Did you put hot sauce in the drinking fountain again? Is getting living statue duty really worth it?" "Let me guess. This guy's Chuck." "Yeah. He ends up out here at least once per week," said Sarah she led Jordan and Lyra into the building. "He'd probably get kicked out if we were a normal militia." "Am I being conscripted?" "No. You're being green carded, as they say in the USA. Enlistment is optional, but common for reasons you'll learn later." "Umm, is there a consequence for not enlisting that makes it common?" "No. You'll understand, later." They had now arrived and stopped in front of a desk which had a dark grey pony without wings or a horn typing at something that looked like a mix of a keyboard and a typewriter, if typewriters and keyboards had two inch wide keys. The motions of the pony typing were a little bit mesmerizing. They looked like a drummer playing the fastest, craziest drum solo ever. The pony even appeared to be using some sort of foot pedal on the ground. Or would that be a hoof pedal? wondered Jordan. There was a wide, flat, semitransparent glass sheet above the keyboard. Hoofboard? It probably has to be bigger because ponies don't have fingers. I should really ask what all of these are called. Lyra placed the clipboard on the desk and spoke. "Hey, Rapid Beat. We've got the new guy." "I trust you two have got this, and won't lead him too far astray?" asked Sarah. "Yeah, if Rapid here would ever pay attention to anything else." The pony in question made a hissing sound and bared their teeth momentarily. "You tame the vicious beast and I'll go write our report. See you around, Jordan." Without looking away from the sheet (Computer Screen? Ack! No more speculation!), Rapid Beat continued their typing with their left hoof, and picked up the clipboard in their right. They then stuck the clipboard to the screen much the same way one might a sticker. Jordan noticed that Rapid Beat had what looked like a laser pointer stuck to the side of their hoof, and was pointing it at different places on the screen. The lens seemed to change colors occasionally, and sometimes rapidly. If he were speculating, and Jordan forcefully reminded himself that he was not doing that, nor curious about all these things that were clearly human inventions adapted for ponies, he would guess that was a mouse. Again, he was not speculating at all. Nope. "Alright. So, Jordan," said Rapid Beat as she looked at him briefly, "Lyra here forgot a question." "Did not! You told me to let you ask it!" Rapid Beat stuck her tongue out at Lyra then asked Jordan "What's your favorite color?" "I don't really get the point of all these questions. ... Blue, if you must know, but why?" "Because it may help us figure out where all you humans came from." Jordan rolled his eyes and chuckled. Then he realized that nobody else was chuckling. Or grinning. "Wait, seriously?" Rapid Beat answered his question while continuing her constant typing. "Yes. Out of the thousand humans that have come here, there should be around fifty or so that like orange the most. There are none. The odds of that happening is something like one in a million billion billion. We don't know why, or what it means, but there it is. Along with most of the humans being from America, and the second most common being Canada. All speaking English. And English being almost exactly the same as Equestrian." Jordan was surprised. Those were all some very good points, that raised some very tough questions. It was a bit strange that talking ponies, magic, flying ponies and being woken up by a girl with a gun were the okay things that happened today, and a simple question like "What's your favorite color?" was a little bit scary. "Makes sense. Sortof." Rapid Beat halted her typing for a moment and pointed at a few places on the screen again. Then she placed a glass sheet made of a similar material to the screen onto the desk, in front of Jordan. "Sign this, please." Jordan did so, and Rapid took the sheet and stuck it onto the screen, much as she had the clipboard. "Congratulations, Jordan. You're now a legal immigrant, and most of the way to becoming a full citizen. Lyra, take him to Evaluation, please?" "Yep. Come on, Jordan." Jordan followed Lyra back out of the building. "Evaluation?" "To become a full citizen, we have to get your medical information and task proficiencies." "Why do you need to know that I'm terrible at math to make me a citizen?" "Because being unemployed as a human is illegal, comrade!" Jordan stared silently at Lyra in fake horror at her blatant communism, while she held her poker face. "Just kidding. Mostly. If 'Homeless Bum' and 'Underwater Basketweaving Expert' are on the list of potential jobs, which they actually are, then it's basically legal to be unemployed." "Really? Underwater Basketweaving?" "Yep. We've only got the one, and she makes a killing as an underwater stage act in some places." "And who's the Homeless Bum?" "Can't remember his name, but he's over in Manehattan right now-" "Manehattan?" "-Yes. More weird similarities. Anyways, he keeps an eye on the streets and reports any unusual activity. Like a month ago, he basically saved the entire city by reporting that trash in the sewers had become sentient. No, I'm not joking. They actually had to evacuate almost a fifth of the city." "That's..." Jordan tried to think of something to say, but there wasn't really anything to say. Lyra said something for him. "Crazy? Ridiculous? Awesome? Hilarious? Astounding? Surprising? All of the above?" "All of the above." They stopped in front of what looked basically like one concrete outhouse in a large row of concrete houses, only the others said "Entrance" or "Exit" while his said "New". Jordan coughed. "Let me guess. This is an elevator entrance to a giant underground complex where they conduct all sorts of crazy science experiments." "No, that would be those outhouses." said Lyra as she pointed to another row of outhouses about 40 yards away. "Those are for Aperture Laboratories, PONY division. This one is for the SCP Foundation, though there is a large underground tunnel connecting the two." "What does SCP stand for?" "I dunno, it's some nerd joke I think." Jordan shook his head. "Down the rabbit hole, I guess." Lyra opened the door for Jordan, and he entered. "Good luck with your testing! See ya!" she exclaimed as she shut the door. There was a sink and a mirror, and a light in the roof, but no toilet, only a lever. Just out of idle curiosity, he looked into the mirror to see just what he looked like. I wonder if everyone's just too polite to point it out or if nobody cares that I have leaves in my hair from waking up under that tree. They did seem to be pretty used to this sort of thing, so I guess maybe it's both. Though there's something that's bothering me. What is it? What's missing? Jordan continued searching his face, then realized that he wasn't wearing his glasses. He retrieved them from his pocket, and smiled at himself. Perfect. Jordan walked over to the lever and pulled it. The sink and mirror retracted into the wall, Jordan felt a few butterflies in his stomach as the elevator descended.
