1 We Gotta Get Out of This Place
The speakers thrummed out the steady beat of The Animals as she guided the vehicle through the first of what she already knew was going to be a long line of stations and checkpoints.
Much of it was for show, the usual security theater that she'd gotten used to while flying to see family across the country, though it was much larger and more elaborate than even the most arduous of TSA checks she'd ever had to deal with. The fact she was packing along with a mid-sized truck with a packed trailer and bed of materials likely wasn't making her life any less difficult of course.
Even with a full manifest and declarations of every noteworthy item in her possession, Alex had already grown weary of the bluster and snippy attitudes of the officers and guards, and their apparent glee in delaying the process of her progression through the lines. There was constant heckling and questioning over every point on each list, trying to find a discrepancy they could try to nail her with. They would find none, she'd gone over her lists and meticulously checked every item herself, twice. What she couldn't bring with her directly, she'd already sent ahead through more than a week prior, where they were being held by her employer.
The next station check went by more smoothly, as did the next, and the one after that, until finally, she was at the final checkpoint before she'd be handed off to the Transit Commission for final processing and ingress.
It was at about this point that she started seeing the mixed teams of humans and ponies, moving at a brusque pace to and fro around the main pad just past the final security post. If she squinted, she thought she could just make out a griffon or minotaur here and there in the crowd.
She'd gotten herself quite familiar with the different races she'd encountered, and she'd met a few that had been visiting as tourists around New Orleans in the lead up to her crossing, and prior to that even seen a few milling about at the Strawberry Festival of her hometown. They were often an eclectic sort, at least by human standards. Often curious about the advanced state of technology compared to their homelands, and in the same breath stunned by how often humans just let nature happen on its own.
She shook herself from her thoughts, already feeling the slight buzz in her teeth and fingertips from the ambient thaumic field around the area, much higher than the Earth's normal background1. It wasn't an unpleasant sensation really, in-fact, it was quite energizing! All the same she'd need to keep track of it or she might Hit the Gradient2 faster than she was prepared for. Hell, she wasn't looking forward to the base acclimation period she'd have to go through on the other side, and even afterward, she'd need to keep some manner of Sink4 on her person while her body continued to adjust. It was quite possible that she'd never fully acclimatize and she'd need a Sink with her for the rest of her time on the other side, there just wasn't enough research available about how humans reacted to long term high-intensity ambient exposures. Perhaps she'd eventually be a case study, who could know? She had no real intentions of coming back through unless she absolutely needed to either way.
As the group ahead of her was waved through the last checkpoint, she drove the truck forward slowly, and put it into neutral so the last set of security checks could be done, she largely tuned out the questions of the guard, giving the answers she'd now since gotten down rote, focusing mainly on the playback of her truck's speakers, until a question outside the norm of the previous checkpoints startled her into paying attention.
"Uh…could you repeat that?" she asked, looking at the guard, having enough presence of mind to appear sheepish at having missed it.
"I asked, if this'll be your first time through a Gate Glass? You're packing a lot of stuff... most that come through are only really carrying the basics for a couple weeks."
"Heh, um... yeah, first time. Not really planning on coming back any time soon," she managed a half-smile.
"Your declared itinerary kinda says as much... you've got a full worker's ticket. Don't see those that often, at least not at our complex," the guard returned the smile, showing more interest than any of the previous had thus far beyond trying to make life any worse, "Who'd you sign on with? One of the embassies?"
"No, a small distance freight company... uh, Cerise Crossroads I think it was?"
The response made the guard pale slightly, then he looked her over once more, checking his tablet, before responding, "o-oh... That's.. a mighty small company, do a lot of odd work from what I hear. Seen a few of their packages come through the Glass on our side," he mumbled, looking around as if to see if the others had heard their conversation, they continued checking the gear in the bed and trailer, oblivious.
"Look," he said more quietly, holding up the tablet with a place for Alex to sign the final transit waiver, "You sure you did your research on this? You even met your boss directly?" The man seemed deeply perturbed, but shook his head, holding the tablet out for her.
"Met one of my co-workers a few weeks ago to sign the employment papers, one of those bat ponies, uh, sarosian, yeah that's it. but no, can't say I've met her specifically," she took the tablet and signed the appropriate fields, then let him scan her travel tag, "From what I've read Cerise Crossroads is well respected that side of the Glass, aren't they?"
The guard shook his head and took the tablet back, "They do their job well, from what I understand but... you hear things, working complexes like this."
"What things?" Alex asked, getting somewhat testy at how evasive he seemed to be.
"Just that..." he looked up, one of his fellow guards walking back toward the front, "look, just be careful, alright?" then shook his head, looking to his co-worker and nodded, "everything seems to be in order, I hope you have a safe trip."
"I'll be trying to."
She sighed and slid the window back up as she was given the clear to maneuver past the point, and further onto the pad. Weaving slowly through the throngs of people, ponies, and other manners of being. She took her time, years driving into, and out of the Quarter paying off as she managed to successfully avoid running anyone over, though there were a couple of close calls from inattentive individuals...
The fact that human stupidity wasn't just a human trait comforted her. It seemed life wouldn't be too different as to be unrecognizable at least.
She pulled the truck through the first arch, the transition point from the main pad into the Gate Complex itself and was now in the domain of the GGTC4. Dozens of uniformed humans and ponies both worked the various transit zones, working diligently to process a steady stream of materials and individuals through the half dozen Gate Glasses spread across the building. In truth, this was just one of eight Gate Glass Complexes in the Crescent City; she'd seen each from the outside, but it was still quite something to behold, especially now that she was getting to properly see her first one up close.
She pulled to a stop at a designated spot, to wait her turn, and let the GGTC agents do final checks before crossing. Holding up her travel tag, she rolled the window back down, and was met face to muzzle with a stoic-faced pegasus mare, and a well groomed gentleman, both in the eye-wateringly bright lime and silver uniforms5 of the Commission. They rattled off a series of general questions about what she was bringing with her, reiterated the details and importance of her coming acclimation period in a specialist medical facility in upper Canterlot, then was waved forward to the staging area of the Canterlot linked glass. On the whole, much more bearable than most of Security Check had been, at least.
She put the truck back into gear, and guided it forward once more, focused on the quicksilver surface of the Glass ahead… for the first time, she felt trepidation, this was it, wasn’t it? The strange reflective pool offered no answers, and the shift of her speakers to a melancholic tune by Blackmore’s Night not giving much more.
The Gate monitors, a pair of unicorn stallions on either side checked a display, looked up, nodded, and gave her an affirming wave for her to make the crossing.
Alexandra took a breath, and pushed down on the accelerator, headed toward her new life.
The front of the truck pushed into the rippling surface, gliding through, and soon, she too passed the meniscus. The transit wasn’t exactly instant, despite the ways it had been described, and the shock of displacement, and the strange neural feedback felt oddly like being sucked through a vortex of thick taffy, a strange vision of madness to behold tricking her synapses… flashes of sight that were not… and then she was through, and soon enough, the rest.
Author's Note
Earth, after centuries of atrophy of magical knowledge and use has a generally low ambient thaumic baseline, where as Equus has a very high ambient thaumic baseline. Fonts of Magic still exist across Earth, but the even the strongest easily accessed Fonts pale in comparison to their Equus counterparts.
Hitting the Gradient is a common english colloquialism for Thaumic Gradient Syndrome, Which is an acquired thaumic imbalance caused by overexposure to, or improper decompression from, a specific baseline of ambient or font magic, referred to as Saturate or Desaturate depending on which direction on the gradient. Some equivalent colloquialisms on Equus include Mana Burn, Thaum Shock, and Magic Exhaustion.
A Thaum Sink or Focus is a specific type of device or material that absorbs ambient magic almost like a sponge. Most of these are mass produced passive items that can be worn as a type of jewelry or accessory, but have a distinct limit to how much can be absorbed over a period. Most such items have a specific Yield Grading to denote how much ambient magic can be absorbed over a particular interval that is prominently displayed in the usage manuals that are, usually, mandated by law. Even so, its not unheard of for catastrophic failure, or defects to occur... or illicitly manufactured sinks and focuses to make it to market. Nominally speaking, the higher the Yield Grading, the better the quality of the Sink or Focus, and of course, the greater the cost.
The Gate Glass Transit Commission is a Jointly funded international organization propped up by the United Nations on Earth, and the Council of Independent Nations on Equus as a centralized transport authority and security filter on the Earth and Equus sides of any given Gate Glass portal complex. The GGTC was established after a series of less than favorable incidents of translations between sides that ended in unfortunate outcomes and a number extreme cases of Saturate and Desaturate Thaumic Gradient Syndrome, and now largely regulates how often beings are allowed to pass in either direction and imposing limits on specific material transfers. If someone wanted to be troublesome with moving something through the Gates, usually its caught well before someone even makes it to security check, not unlike with the TSA. It should be noted that, generally, Security Check is separate, and run by local transit authorities, and not the GGTC.
An individual with significant sway, early in the GGTC's formation made the executive decision to make the official uniform code require Neon Lime in abundance, with silver accenting. Because the agents needed to be readily visible. From Low orbit, inside a windowless building.
So, This has been the thing I've been slowcooking and working on. Is it amazing? Probably not, but I'm happy with where this opening chapter currently sits.
I have a lot of notes for the background to work with and set up, and hope that people enjoy this little run through Equestria with my colorful(or not so colorful) cast of characters and ideas,
Would like to thank my proofreaders and editors, Mahazkei, and Thad for their help thus far in getting this reasonably presentable.
Additional editing passes thanks go to Saccharine Affliction
A brief clarification on timeline, the events of this opening are approximately a year before Nightmare Moon's return.
In a quiet and well shaded section of the outer city ring, straddling the border between the titanic airship docks and the opulent upper estates of higher nobility, sat a section of the upper Canterhorn that was, perhaps surprisingly, underdeveloped for such an ancient and prestigious city. Streets were charted and lain in matching with the rest of Greater Canterlot's disk, many a structure was built, and kept maintained by the deep pockets of the Royal Treasury, yet one could be forgiven for seeing the area as something of a black hole in the usually bright and shimmering city of white gold, over the last handful of centuries it had garnered something of a reputation as a jinxed money pit. Many tried to move into the area, or open businesses, a number of whom had their applications rejected outright by the Crown, and those that did not tended to pack up and leave within a hoof's breadth of time.
This was the Argent Quarter. It remained a mystery to many why the regal Princess of the Sun kept this place so functionally barren. Rumors circulated aplenty of strange happenings in the Quarter at night, strange ponies and sounds. Trysts, tales of crimes, lovers, and the lost... but most such tales were just that, tales. Of those that chose to make a living in this seemingly empty part of the city, most lived, or operated their businesses along Artemis Circle, the outermost radial of the Argent Quarter, that ran the length of the area from Citadel Way, bordering the Government Quarter, to Starfall Boulevard and the Knowledge district. Here, an eclectic sort tended to reside.
Off of Artemis Circle, along a cul de sac known simply as The Artemis Court, sat the headquarters of Cerise Crossroads Freight&Shipping, one of the few businesses that stood through the test of time in the otherwise empty region of the city, as it had for some centuries.
"So, why her?"
"Hm?"
"You heard me Cerise, Why Her?" the pale sarosian stallion intoned irritably, "Are you finally going senile old mare?"
"We can't go senile, Cross…" the mare deadpanned, finally turning her draconic gaze from the file spread across her desk, to look at her compatriot, "...though you, sometimes I wonder if something slipped during your Blessings."
"Shove it you old hag," he grumbled, taking a step closer to the desk, eyeballing the file, "I mean it, why her? She's nothing particularly special. Could see that when I met her for the final paperwork. Nothing outstanding or especially exemplary, no real connections, some experience in interior demolition which could be helpful, but has never been through a Gate before, so there's an additional week we'll be losing on the front end for her acclimation period. All she really has is that truck, the clothes on her back, and a string of medications that will be... less than ideal to procure because of the Screeners. The best I can say is that she's eager, and willing to drop most of her old life near permanently."
"Always so temperamental, you'd think after so long it would have mellowed a bit…" Cerise tutted, shaking her head, "...That's part of the reason actually. She's... unremarkable is not the right word, but doesn't really stand out. Though…. I'm sure that will change in time, the point is, while she has people in her life that will miss her if something happens, there's not anything about her worth searching for by anyone with real connections that side of the Glass. Our business is discretion, and though I could set up a thaumproof stack of non-disclosures and agreements, if something happened to any of the other candidates, at any point, even just general injuries one would expect from this kind of work, we'd get more scrutiny than we need," she paused, moving a particular sheaf of parchment in the cherry glow of her magic, "Besides, I've already taken the liberty of procuring a supply of the primary medications she requires... I.. called in an old favor," her expression shifted to a grimace.
The sarosian's eyes went wide, his stance shifting as he circled the desk to stand next to his boss, staring at the sheet, "You.. got Him involved. The Daybringer will know about this now, you realize that, right? So much for avoiding scrutiny."
"She knew about it the moment the long term residency forms were signed. The Daybringer still reads all of them personally, since such things are few as of yet. You act like she wouldn't know anyway, we may be beneath notice to most, beyond the reputation of dependable delivery, but after all this time she has not forgotten. By the Moon, you have gone senile Cross, I knew something went wrong all those years ago," the mare shook her head.
"Hardy har, seriously Cerise, why'd you get that old doublecross involved?"
"My brother is many things, but he is not a traitor, regardless of your thoughts on him. Sterling is still loyal to the Moon, he just..."
"Felt it better to work with the one who banished her in the first place as the most direct method of bringing her back," Cross finished for her with a severe frown, "I've heard that excuse plenty. Whatever the case, he still works for ol' sunny shine, and those pricks that worship her are part of why we still keep our heads down."
Cerise sighed and shuffled more parchment and regular paper sheets with her magic, slipping a few into a file and into a lockbox, before rolling the remainder up and tossing it unceremoniously at Cross, "She's also why our business continues to go unimpeded," she said simply, watching as the sarosian caught the bundle with a leathery wing, "just bring those forms to Citadel Circle for me... Sterling will be waiting on those so he can finalize our newest employee's requisitions..."
"I just hope you know what you're getting us into this time," he shook his head with a snort, tucking the bundle of documents into a saddlebag, "we've made something to be proud of these past several centuries, I don't want to see you throwing it away on some new curiosity."
"We'd both be long dead if I were prone to careless flights of fancy guano brains," the Noctis managed with a weak smile, pulling a crystal decanter from under her desk as she watched her oldest companion leave, pouring a glass of crimson to sip on idly.
Author's Note
I'm not entirely happy with the state of this chapter, and I didn't really have the energy to go through and make an ending index for it either, but had a couple of passes with my proofreaders and editors, and gonna call this done.
Its heavier on the exposition than I initially wanted, and there's a whole slew of other issues in my head like trying to visualize and show this section of the Canter Capitol as a built up, but mostly empty ghost district... but it is what it is and if I keep agonizing over it, it'll just get worse. I may come back later and rework the chapter, but for now, hope you all enjoy these new characters, and another piece of this AU
