INTERLUDE: A DIFFERENT VIEW

New York City, 2023 Anno Dominae

"Shit, Sparkler!" Marcus winced, hissing acidly as he pressed a wad of cloth to his upper arm. "Zecora's brilliant, but having powdered gems tattooed into your flesh is always going to fucking hurt!"

"Oh stop whining" the young unicorn mare sighed in exasperation, giving him a forceful jab of her horn as he moved to remove the wad and glance at his arm. "And don't pick at it!"

"Yes Mam'," Marcus grumbled back. The cloth, actually one of Zecora's magical surplices, impregnated with esoteric herbs and liniments was a little something designed to speed along healing after his sessions 'under the runic needle'.

"And besides!" Sparkler pouted. "If Zecora's brilliant, what does that make me?"

"Sorry kid," he smiled fondly, unable to resist the sheer adorableness of the elder Whooves daughter. "You're a genius. Crazy, unlicensed and uncertified, but definitely a genius."

"That's better!" the pony also known as Amethyst Star smiled, before levitating a small tuning fork out one of her jacket's many pockets (which, in defiance of Euclidian geometries, were considerably larger on the inside). "Right, you know the drill Renee! Hold still."

Marcus obliged as she spun the instrument in her magic, until it hummed softly in cadence with her thaumic field. Then, she held it close to Marcus' arm, listening for the telltale 'ring' of magic at work. Finally, after several long minutes, she nodded in approval.

"Excellent!" she said briskly, turning away to examine a wall diagram depicting a stylised human outline, one covered in multiple esoteric markings. "The final graft held. Which means there's nothing left except to put you TO THE TEST!"

Abruptly bucking herself off the chart with her forehooves, Sparkler flipped back in the air and cracked her head in a neat arc, firing off a bolt of offensive magic. Marcus yelped and thrust out one arm in self-defence, fingers sprayed and eyes squeezed shut as he awaited the impact...

...it never came. Instead, he gradually became aware of a faint, almost pleasant tingling in his fingers, and slowly opened his eyes.

"Well...that's something..."

He had caught Sparkler's spell in the palm of his hand. Curling his arm around, he stared in silent awe at the flickering ball of energy now floating in his grasp like a magical baseball. The runes now permanently etched into his skin, normally invisible, now shimmered softly in tune with the ebb and flow of the caged spell. Curious and more than a little awestruck, Marcus' eyes drifted to where he had just been holding Zecora's suplice to his arm. Now exposed, the skin underneath, previously raw and red from the tattooist's work, was knitting back together before his eyes. It didn't even hurt beyond a gentle tickling.

"Congratulations," Sparkler beamed, trotting beside him, affecting a gruff British accent. "Y'er a wizard, Marcus."

Against his will, Marcus felt an involuntary grin stretch across his face; one of a childhood dream realised.

"Expelliarmus!" he shouted, thrusting his arm out and 'firing' the spell off at Sparkler's examination table...

...which promptly burst into flames.

"Wha...but...that's..." Marcus stammered, before slowly turning to regard Sparkler with a somewhat horrified expression. "You cast an INCINERATION SPELL at me!?"

"And I had every confidence you'd be just fine," Sparkler beamed, before abruptly pulling a bag of gelatin-free marshmallows from another infinitely-deep pocket and skewering them on the tines of her magical tuning-fork. "Who'd have thought that table would make such a good bonfire."

Marcus could only shake his head. Adopted or not, this mare was still the scion of the Whooves clan. Lateral thinking seemed to come with the name.

"Ah, excooze me..." someone broke in, their young voice layered with what sounded very much like a Brooklyn accent. "But weez got some dispatches fer' yers."

Marcus turned to where an orange-and-pink mare, a filly just into her teens, had stuck her head in through the door, two saddlebags strapped to her stocky barrel and an opening seed proudly emblazoned on her flank.

"Hey Babs..." Sparkler greeted cheerfully. "Want a smore?"

"Sorry Sparks," Babs Seed replied tersely. "I've got important news for Mr Renee."

"I said before Babs, you might be my Adjunct, but you're also my friend, and that mean's it's just 'Marcus'..." the man in question said gently, to which the Manehattan-born filly simply bashfully ducked down behind the cover of her fringe. "Anyway, what's the story?"

At that, Babs abruptly straightened up and nimbly pulled several sheets from her saddlebags with her teeth, which she handed to him.

"Mz Zecora and Cadenz say they're ready to move out and prep tings' in Boston. Dem books from Miskatonic Univoosity came in real' handy with tracin' Earth's old leylines. They reckon well be gud to deploy their Trench-Spell once the Barrier hits."

The report was supplemented by several photographs, depicting a now infamous vessel hanging in the sky.

"However, te' 'Great Equestrian' has been making forayz ahead o' the Barrier. Spitfire'z askin' if we can send the modified jets up against it in a field-test?"

"No, keep them in reserve for now..." Marcus said, half to himself. "They and the other runic weapons are our ace-in-the-hole. Use them now and we'd just be showing the Tyrant our hand. What about on the home-front? How's everyone been while I've been recovering?"

"Everyone'z fine..." Babs replied, nervously turning her attention towards the floor. "Well, mostly, like..."

"Babs..." Sparkler said softly. "How is Scootaloo?"

When the orange filly looked up, her green eyes were glistening with tears. She sniffed, and then managed to strike a tone of resolve.

"The doctors say her wings have to be amputated...if they ain't, then the necrosis is gonna infect her whole body."

Marcus grimaced in sympathy. "How'd she take the news?"

"Like a Cutie Mark Croosada of course!" Babs answered, defiant pride now lacing her voice, despite the tears and emotional pain she felt for her loyalest friend. "She's volunteered to go unda' anaesthesia and let the docs do a biopsy on her wings while they amputate. Let dem' understand pony physiologies better. Nopony can doubt that Scoots ain't got moxie!"

"Brave little filly..." Sparkler whispered, and Marcus agreed wholeheartedly. "Rainbow Dash never deserved her adoration."

"Mz Wildfire' promised Scoots that once out, she's getting a motorized scoota all her own. She's got Doc Whooves workin' on modifyin' a Vespa right now! And there'z more good news!"

With a triumphant flourish, Babs pulled an entire folder stuffed with documentation out of her saddlebag. "You know how yooze said you wanted all the world's best soliders here' afore' we duke it out in Boston? Well we'z gotten an answer from a real legend! The Knight o' Germania himself!"

"That guy?" Marcus said in disbelief as he opened the folder. "The man whose unit stormed the Bundestag when Equestria targeted the German Chanellor. Hell yes!"

Sparkler edged in closer, chewing on a smore. The examination table continued to smoulder cheerfully. "There was some real tough fighting on the European front, wasn't there?"

"All too right. I didn't get into combat until the Barrier was impinging on France. Before that though, in the earlier days...well, it was hell. This guy went through it all. I remember meeting him once...feels like a long time ago."

"Ida' thought youz two would be best buddies," Babs smirked, all shyness and hero-worship forgotten in a chance to show off a little Marehatten snark. "Two hard-fighting badazzes wid a combined kill-count higher dan' Mz Spitfire's flight ceiling."

"Like I said, our paths rarely crossed..." Marcus murmured, stroking one of his older scars thoughtfully. "Though there was this was this one sparring bout...but that's neither here nor there."

"Has anyone passed this news along to our 'Blue Spy' yet?" Sparkler interjected. "I thought the two of them were longstanding partners-in-crime? It'd be good to reunite them before we move on Boston..."

"Yeah..." Marcus replied absently, before his expression hardened. Standing he grabbed a fire extinguisher and doused the remains of the table in retardant foam. "We've got work to do. Anyone and anypony who's combat-ready needs to prep for Boston. That's were we'll make our stand. Babs, I'm trusting you to personally respond to the Knight of Germania. Radio, magic, carrier-pigeon, courier, dragonfyre, whatever we've got. Tell him we accept his offer and forward co-ordinates so he and his crew can link up with several units under our command, I need the best of the best..."

"...and I need them damn soon."

The Conversion Bureau: The Other Side of the Spectrum, Side story: Europe

A/N: This is a chapter to inform you of a second story taking place at the same time as my own. You must look for it on FIMfiction however, since the writer doesn't know about fanfiction site.