The

 CONVERSION

        ►Bureau

       - Unofficial sequel/sidestory to Recombinant 63, by Chatoyance

The diamond dog leaned into the mic, his husky voice heavy with the peculiarly Slavic accent of his homeland. "Dis on? Good." He tapped it for good measure, causing feedback. A good deal of people in the crowd winced at this.

"You fink dat bad for you? Try wid dese ears. I get da feedback none o' you's hears. When I do dis," he said, making an exagerated display of pain, holding his paws up, outstretched as if he were grabbing onto something, "I not mimin', I whinin'. Whinin's where I don't move an' squeak a lot. S'other way around t'mimin'."

The crowd laughed. The crowd actually laughed. He was terrible, with all the delivery and tact of a freight train, but his pure awfulness had a charm that just... drew a watcher in.

The man shook his head and moved to take a sip of his drink. What met him was a cool, sweet blast of nothing, the gin and tonic was gone.

"Waitress! Waitress! Another!" The man slammed his empty shot glass down repeatedly until the unicorn trotted up, levitating a tray easily by her side.

"What'll it be, mister?"

"Another gin and tonic. Actually, just... leave the bottle and bring some extra ice and tonic-water. How much?"

"A hundred fifty credits, sir, if you want the whole thing."

"A hundred and fifty? Sure, sure, why not. How much for a little personal service, hmm?"

"I'm not for sale. I-if you want a little, ah, special performance, the fillies—"

He threw the money on the ground. "How much extra to get you to pick it up with your mouth?"

The pony sniffed. She was used to humans, and bits were bits. "An extra fifty."

More credits fluttered down or rolled across the floor. Some were Terran, others were Bits from Equestria. "Pick 'em up then, slowly."

The pony turned around, flicking her tail in annoyance. It was more or less exactly what he wanted, getting a good, solid view beneath it for a minute or so as she fought to get the last of the mixed collection of coins and notes.

"Mmm, I like that. Nothing quite like it."

She stayed like that a few moments longer than she needed, not because she wanted to but because any excuse to have him thrown out would have been real satisfaction. Just one little cupping of her hind quarters, one absent brush of a knuckle or even the intrusive poking of a digit, and he'd be out on his ear and banished from the Pup's Plums Dressclub forever. She could take that. Better a minor rape now than a scene later. But the expected fondling never came, though she felt his eyes upon her. Still human, but he reacted the way all men did these days. A shortage of pussy made even the briefest of flashes from even generally morphologically compatible sources enticing. Even to those who professed to have no interest. Especially then.

There was a sudden meaty slap. The pony winced, thinking she'd been hit for a moment, but when she looked up, the lecherous creep had been solidly thumped in the face by another gentleman.

"Out," the newcomer said, jaw set. He was an older gentleman, but still obviously fit.

"But—"

The second man just pointed, and the first left. The second sat down in his place. "Sorry about that. I'll have whatever he's just paid for."

"Thank you, sir," said the pony coolly, straightening up. "I'll be back shortly."

"Call me Leonard, Miss..?"

"Ink, Inkwell." Inkwell shuffled her hooves experimentally. She didn't know why she was still talking to anyone after that last scene, but, well, pony is as pony does. It was kind to be sociable.

"Pardon my effrontery, I do prefer to know who I am dealing with. I'm surprised such a fine mare as yourself is working in a... place like this."

"What? you're calling me classy? Humans aren't my type. if you're trying to chat me up—"

"Forgive me, but you don't seem to have the cutie-mark for it. Most of the fine females you find in an establishment of this type are generally... well. I do believe I once saw a mare with a phallus as a cutiemark. I can't imagine what she did with it out of hours. Maybe she wore dresses to cover it up, or maybe it was fake to begin with."

"Maybe." Inkwell wasn't sure she wanted to keep on chatting, but was finding it hard to have an excuse to disappear. The evening had gone from disgusting to... almost chivalric. "If you're ready, I-I'll just get your drinks."

"Please," said Leonard, "come back?"

Inwardly, Inkwell swore. Muffin cherry cheesecake slice! She didn't want to be near this guy. He reeked of HLF, no matter what he'd done. She had convinced herself of it, he was here to meet some sort of underworld contact. Maybe it was a PER operative, an exchange of intel or prisoners, something like that. Either way, he was bad news. But he had saved her hide, and he wanted to talk to her. She found it hard to resist.

Up on stage, the diamond dog comedian was still going strong. "Why pony cross street? To get back to Equestria. Why human cross street? To get to Conversion Bureau. Then pony cross street." The rimshot was so corny, but then the whole act was atrociously corny. The kitsch of it was entertaining, and the crowd laughed. Most of them had arrived for the Pup's Comedy Hour. Those that hadn't, had found the usual ladies – human and pony – waiting on tables with cut-price drinks. Little personal shows were going on all over. Very personal shows were going on in the very personal backrooms. Strangely enough for the first-timers, the ponies were wearing more than the humans, and were mostly being paid to put more on.

"Some fink diamond dogs just... dogs. Do anything for bone. Not true!" The diamond dog glared around angrily, the crowd suddenly silenced. "Take two bones at least." Rimshot. "Maybe three." Laughter.

Inkwell slouched her way to the table. The man, Leonard, had poured himself a couple of shots of gin already, and had downed them in short order. He was hissing through his teeth at the bite. He noisily made himself another, sat back in the plush velvet seats, and watched the stage. Just as Ink was about to leave, however, he spoke. "Tell me about yourself, then. Why're you..." he gestured with the shot glass. "Here?"

"Well, I... left for a while. With my two spouses."

"Two stallions, eh?"

"Mares. Two mares. Three in total."

"Oh ho. And no man to keep you in your place?"

"None of your business. If you're going to be—"

"Calm yourself, Miss Inkwell. I apologize. A dressclub is no place for such animosity between us."

"You are HLF then?"

"You don't need to spread it about, but yes."

"What happens in dressclubs, stays in dressclubs, sir."

Leonard chuckled, taking another sip of his drink. "It's nothing like that. We're shutting up shop here, you see. Just thought I'd come and say farewell." As Inkwell's ears flattened against her head he waved nonchalantly. "Oh don't worry, the withdrawal will be peaceful. We don't burn bridges, not in civilisation. We'd have PER and the army down on us if we did, and we can't take any more losses." Leonard scowled at that admission. "You've won, you know. All this... it's yours. Ponies, and those who want to be ponies. And you can have it. So tell me, Inkwell, why're you here? I would have thought you'd have gone to Equestria."

"Well I... we did."

"Go on."

"I guess it started at the end, when my... my wife was being converted in a warehouse on the East side..."

Paige's eyes fluttered open at the sound of birdsong. The air was warm, and redolent with a myriad of fragrances. It was wonderful, a summer's evening straight out of the movies. She remembered, briefly, when she'd been stationed as a security guard in some rat-infested mall next to the elite's gated community, long before the ponies came. They'd had something called honeysuckle which had apparently devoured the walls. The rich weirdos cut it down because it was the wrong colour, or something. Paige had never understood why, because for a few months of the year, in the evening, the flowers would bloom, and it would smell wonderful.

Seeing as the last thing she remembered was having her arm melted off by magic, and downing an emergency ponification— "Ah." Paige looked up, into the amused, wide eyes of a midnight-blue pony. The pony smiled, fluttering her wings, as the moonlight glinted off her horn. "Luna?"

"Doth that be your name too, little one? How strange that we may two may meet like this, who shareth such a noble title."

Paige blinked. Twice. "I, er..."

"A joke," said Luna, rolling her eyes. "I see mine attempts at humour still need work."

"Ah! Ahha! Haha, yes."

"Laugh not like you fear I would send you to the blackest of hells, my little pony." Luna took a step away before turning back. "Another joke. I had hoped—"

Paige laughed. She threw back her head and laughed, great pealing torrents of joy. Wiping her eyes with a hoof, she shook her head. "Sorry, sorry, I... just didn't expect you to be like... I mean it is you, isn't it?"

Luna smiled, gesturing with her head to follow. Paige got onto her hooves, surprisingly steady once she just let it happen, and trotted after the princess. Rising into the air on a glowing cloud of magic, the pair of them accelerated over the plains of some great grassland. "It is I, little one. Oft my sister doth see to thee and thine, but in this case I thought it prudent to take a personal interest in the matter."

"Oh? Oh!" Paige went rigid with shock as below her thundered huge herds of ponies, frolicking and dancing and whinnying and neighing with joy as their goddess floated above them, "Th-the warehouse! I totally forgot! We were... there were men, with guns, they were shooting at us and th-they said they'd kill us if we... oh sweet Lu- I mean, uh, sweet... you..."

"Calm yourself, my dear. It is taken care of." Luna smiled kindly, as the multicoloured clouds shot over the edge of a great meandering waterfall, the spray sending warm droplets of sweet wine-like water into the air. The ghostly platforms plummeted almost straight down, but Paige had neither time nor reason to be scared, before the flight levelled out and they passed over a cloud-strewn mountain valley.

"But they were shooting, with guns, and—"

"And now their guns are as immobile as the rest of them. I must say, I had never thought that such a simple show of friendship as a guided tour of Equestria and Canterlot would lead to such mayhem and strife."

Paige was silent for a moment, as around them frolicked pegasi, masters of the wind and clouds. Ghostly nickers and fleeting kisses of greeting flowed across her body before they, too, were gone. The clouds they were perched upon sped downwards, thundering through the stratocumuli as if they were nothing more than mere vapour. Which they probably were, reasoned Paige, even here in this whatever-it-was place between worlds. Accelerating ever faster, the scenery changed as the pair dove into a wild wood of ancient magic and intimidating yet unseen presences. Through branches that just barely whisked out of the way, around trunks warped and twisted by time and magic, they came upon an ancient, ruined castle. There, the clouds came to rest, and dissipated into nothing.

looking around herself, Paige shivered. "Where are we?" she asked, her voice echoing from empty wall to abandoned room.

"My home, what is left of it. It lay abandoned for a thousand years."

"I, er, love what you've done with the place."

This time, it was Luna's turn to laugh uproariously. Eventually, she stopped, still full of mirth. "Do you know why we're here?"

"N-no..."

"Because this is a place of many secrets, and I am here to discuss one such. I would have something from you."

"From me?"

"From all of you. There is a manuscript in your possession, and whilst it will shortly be in my possession, there is something to do with it which I need. From you." The midnight-blue alicorn looked pointedly at Paige.

"W-we... we read the notebook." Paige's heart sank.

"Yes."

"We shouldn't have, should we?"

Luna sensed Paige understood the price she was exacting. "I will not take much from you, little one, only details. You will still remember your adventures, you will still remember the joys and pain, but... I would have from you the details."

Paige sucked breath in through her teeth. "It's that serious?"

"Knowledge is dangerous, which is why it is kept from those who would do harm. This knowledge... it could harm all of my little ponies, irreparably. But I will not take these memories from you unwillingly, and not without a gift in return. So, Paige Waterson, what will it be?"

"I... can I say no?"

"Yes."

"But y-you think this is important?"

"There will never be another thing you do which is quite so important."

"Then I accept." Paige screwed up her muzzle. "Will it hurt?"

Luna looked down at the pony, cocking her head, "What? Oh, I will not do it now, little one. I shall do it only once I have spoken to all three of you. For now, you have a far more pressing engagement."

"Oh?"

"You must wake up, little one, and experience the joy of your new hooves."

For the third time that day, Paige opened her eyes. The floor was hard, cold and uncomfortable. The air in the little office was rank and musty, but the smell of four ponies was welcoming above the background stench of sweat, blood and gunpowder. She sniffed; eighteen men, three women, one biont. The latter was broken, melted by whatever thaumic blast was still reverberating throughout the warehouse. It left a coppery, actinic taste in her muzzle.

...That was new. A muzzle. She flicked her ears in surprise. Ooh, ears that move! She flicked them again, one, two... hee hee! Tailswish! Ooh, a tail! Ears, tail... and hooves! Four of them! Experimentally, Paige put a hoof in her muzzle and bit it. "Ow!"

"Paige, are you okay?"

"Ow! Yeff, I waff juft—"

Inkwell sighed, "Paige, take your hoof out of your mouth."

"Buff... fun waffa. If nife."

"Let me, Inks honey. Paige? If you don't take your hooves out of your mouth, you won't be able to get up, and if you don't get up, you won't be able to see Luna."

Paige was up like a shot, but moments later was gently rocking to and fro with a bout of vertigo. "Luna! You're here? But... we were just..." Paige looked down at her hooves in confusion. "Ooh, I have such lovely shiny hooves!"

There were two soft thunks as Inkwell and Petrichor both face-hoofed.

"Paige, honey, focus. We're having an issue here! You know, bad men? Guns?"

"It's okay, they wanted the notebook, but Luna's done something to them and they won't be bothering us. It's over, Pet. We're safe. You just have to... actually Luna wanted something more from us than just the notebook."

"She knows about it?" squeaked Inkwell. eyes going wide.

"Indeed I do, my little pony. I have known about it for some time, since your most untimely conversion, though I knew not then the import nor that it was with you." Luna trotted into the little office at the top of the warehouse. "Had I but known, much would have been spared you all."

"B-but t-then Paige would've..."

Luna fixed Inkwell with a stern gaze. "She was almost lost to the Great Herd. She would have had her time. As it was she almost didn't, and all because of your great love of stories."

Inkwell looked up, furrowing her brow. "Isn't that why you hired me?"

"Quite, but even you should know that some tales are not safe."

"She wants to take our memories!" blurted Paige, before covering her muzzle with a hoof.

Inkwell looked from Paige to Luna, to Pet. "It's that important?"

Luna sighed. "I had hoped to leave this until a better time, after you had all had a chance to rest and consider... but mayhaps I can offer you a better deal."

"A better de—" Inkwell began, but in a flash of energy found herself suddenly blinded by strong, hot daylight. She rocked back and forth, sensations of nausea washing over her for a few seconds before clearing. Shocked, she looked around at a scene straight out of some pastoral three-vee movie with cowboys and indians. "Equestria?" she asked, dumbfounded.

"I give you three a week to consider, some bits to spend, and some days and nights of rest and recuperation to use them in. Head South, I suggest you take the train until Gaskin Path and walk by hoof from there. Continuing East by train would take you to Neighvada, and that is not entirely conducive to rest. You have been through a lot, it is time to truly relax."

"Wait, Neighvada? You're kidding, right? Is there a... a... a Las Pegasus too?"

"Neigh, Las Pegasus is to the West, and two of you do not posess—"

"Right. Of course. Why wouldn't there be a Las Pegasus?" Inkwell rolled her eyes and stomped around in a circle before coming nose to nose with the princess again. "Where are going, anyhow?"

"South.  You will know when to stop."

"Is this some form of pony mysticism? Because it's like something straight out of a story book, and trust me, I know story books."

"Oh! Good! Then you will be aware of the way such things function. I bid thee adieu, my little ponies. I shall see thee in a week!" With that, the midnight blue alicorn fluttered her wings and took off into the air, with Inkwell's last few sputtered objections still left unsaid.

Pet fluttered her wings in silent laughter, spotting a small bitbag of Equestrian coins left by the retreating diarch, which she picked up with her teeth and secreted in her mane. "Come on, Inks. We're on a mission from the princess! Can't keep her waiting!"

Inkwell sighed heavily, then moved her gaze to Paige, who was dancing up and down with glee and yelling at a most embarassing volume about how joyful she was about her new, shiny hooves.

Oh no. Oh no, no, no, thought Inks to herself, that daft pony is not going to...

"Ohhh my hooves are so shiny! I'm so happy, joy, joy, joy!"

Just don't give her any ideas, Inkwell said to herself, just... don't.

The train whistle sounded loudly across the desert as it bid farewell to a town the trio learned was called Appleloosa. And why not, thought Inkwell to herself, they grow apples here. She rolled her eyes, but she couldn't deny that the thought of such openly joyful, silly and yet apt names were a lot of fun.

Outside the train window, the scenery was picking up speed. The whole muffin train was being pulled by four earth ponies. Four! Just four! The double-chocolate-chip cookie creatures were strong as a fluffin' locomotive all by themselves. Incredible!

"Fluffin'," laughed Inkwell to herself, turning on the wide, comfortable bed-like matress-chairs to watch Pet and 'Joy Shinyhooves' arguing over the quite honestly atrocious name.

"How aboouuuttt.... happyhooves?"

"No."

"Awesomehooves?"

"No!"

"Prettyhooves!"

"Double no!"

"You don't think my hooves are pretty?" sulked Joy, nee Paige.

"I think your hooves are the prettiest ever. Possibly – and I'm just stating a hypothetical here – possibly prettier than Ink's."

"Gee, thanks," Inkwell rolled her eyes. Pet stuck her tongue out.

"She's my owner, I've got to tell her she's got the prettiest hooves ever."

Inkwell laughed. "But that doesn't mean she has to mention them in her name, right?"

"Nope."

Inkwell hummed and hawwed. "You know, that's something... I mean... now Paige isn't a big ol' meanie-pants human – no offence."

"None taken! I was the one with the fluffin' baseball bat just incase... ooh, just thinking about it makes me all wibbly!"

"Anyway, now she's not the sort to make pancakes with those mother-fluffin' baddies, can she... you know." Inkwell twitched her eyebrows suggestively.

"What?"

"With the whips and chains..."

"Oh. Ohhh!" Pet looked at Shiny Joyhooves, or Hoofy Shinyjoy, or whichever of her terrible name suggestions the earthpony mare was currently entertaining, appraisingly. "You mean... she might not be able to... perform?"

Inkwell giggled despite herself, and both she and Pet broke out into gales of laughter when Joy pouted. "I think we might have to reassess some parts of our relationship."

Pet pouted, now. "But... I'm the pet! There can't be three pets! I can take two because I'm obviously best pet, but three? This is serious. This is muffin serious."

Outside, the arid desert literally flew by as things – in more ways than one – went South.

This is very good, and I want to read more!