"Jetstream, come in."

"...."

"Streams, I know you can hear me."

"...."

"I'm sorry we are ruining your alone time, but this is important. We have a high fast flyer all over the flight levels making ATC reroute too many airlines. You are the nearest one to it, just need you to tag em and drag em. Escort to Randolph AFB, Texas. The unknown is pointed roughly in that direction anyway. Can you do it, sis?"

<sigh> "Fine. As long as it lets me fly longer."

"That a girl! Denver Center has already uploaded an intercept and you are cleared all the way due regard, just check your smartpad. Looks like this one is sight seeing, dropping out, popping back up. Normally we'd have a 520/2nd run em down, except this flyer is too erratic. Perfect for you to orbit until you get line of sight and pounce. You know I wouldn't personally ask if it wasn't important."

"Yeah, I know." Jetstream glanced down at the pad strapped to her foreleg. It wasn't that much out of the way, but now she couldn't simply drift along her namesakes enjoying the quiet freeflight. Dejectedly she muttered, "Brave Ponies Save Ponies."

A snort from across the line told her that her supervisor, and sister, was still listening. "Damn, girl. If we were to advertise like that at recruitment, they'd run for the hills trying not to join up. Good luck, and make sure you ID the unknown. D.C. has been very adamant to prove or disprove our intercept protocols. Given the recent portal activation, we've been busy nonstop with incoming visitors. And thankyou, sis, I mean it."

Nod nod. "Intercept, ID, hoof in their flank to get them to Randolph for training. Anything else?"

"That about does it. Just relay the info when you get it so we can process them into the system, set up their class date."

"Right, out." Jetstream checked her smartpad, made note of the course and speed needed to merge with the projected track of the unknown pegasus and banked hard, wings compressing water molecules to make contrails behind her as she pulled a tight circle. Set on her new heading she upped her speed a tad, snorting to herself as she remembered an old movie scene from Airplane 2.

Finding the rogue flyer was not that difficult. Denver kept updating her pad as the pegasus showed up on radar. Jetstream was able to catch up to the target well before they could enter Albuquerque Center airspace. Pinning him down, THAT was the hard part. And it would be a stallion, Jetstream groused to herself once she got a glimpse of his side profile. He obviously had spotted her before she saw him, given he was in and out of the towering cumulus cloud structures. The track was jumping all over the place the closer she got, according to the data stream on her pad. He knew he was being followed and he was being an ass about it. Okay, phase two of the intercept protocol, corral and contain. She would swing wide and stay high as the white and black pegasus zigzagged, her more sedate maneuvers cutting off possible escape routes. Pushing him further down got them out of the midwestern cloud coverage, too, leaving very few places to hide. This actually took a couple of hours, though progress cross-country had slowed. Eventually there was a single small cloud over a sparsely forested field. Somehow he had gotten into those trees and hidden his bright fur. Stubborn as a stallion, her sister White Lightning would say.

"What is he, a gelding? Tell him to knock it off, he's wasting our time."

Jestream blinked and checked her comms. "Sis?"

"Yeah. I've been tracking your progress this whole time. Sweet Celestia he's annoying." Jestream grinned to herself quietly. Okay, maybe sis would say something else.

"Perhaps he's scared...hold on, I'm going to try something." Jetstream purposely flew away from the forest and slowly meandered in an expanding circle as if searching further away, but not too fast. She also adjusted her goggles so she could see to the rear while facing forward. The 520th flyers were given goggles specially modded with mirrored vents on the outer edges so flyers didn't have to swing their heads back and forth as much to check their six o'clock.

Sure enough, a dull white shape flew straight up into the cloud. "Gotcha." She wheeled around in midair and sped straight to the cloud, hovering just above before landing hard with a heavy stomp for good measure. The ripples of compression forced a small grunt out of the cloud. She smirked, "Alright, hide and seek is over. Come out."

Civil popped his head out of the cloud a few feet away from Jetstream. She noticed his fur was covered in dirt, leaves and twigs. A lot of it looked like it was rubbed in on purpose, makeshift camo. "Yay. You win. Now what do you want?"

The mare blinked, then replied, "I'm to inform you that by order of the President of the United States, carried out by yours truly of the 520th Air Guard Squadron, I am to detain you, identify you and escort you to Randolph Air Force Base, San Antonio, Texas. Any uh, deviation...of....hm." While she was talking, he had climbed out and just sat in front of her with a dour look on his face. She slowed her speech and paused the more she became aware of the markings on his flank, or the lack thereof, stunning her.

Her sister's voice in her ear had no visual cues, only verbal. "You're doing fine, just tell him the rest, type in his coat, mane, cutie mark, name, and get him down there." Jetstream only had a few other intercepts under her belt, none of them quite this extensive a chase. She supposed Lightning's guidance was to make sure she did everything correct. Stallions weren't the only stubborn ponies...but he has no markings, she thought to herself numbly.

"Um..." She honestly felt embarrassed now. She could already imagine what it must be like. An adult without a cutie mark? Ridiculed, laughed at for being weird, or worse yet, ignored. That was her human past, her change into a pony only accentuating the weirdness of her reality. That is, before someponies had helped her get through it, thankfully. This she could relate to.

"Say it." His short retort popped her out of her reverie. The male in front of her clenched his jaw, almost wishing for a confrontation. "Well? Say it."

"You are a..."

"I'm a...what? Say it, the first obvious dumb thing you can think of." That stung. Not because of his attitude. She wasn't that friendly with others, so she ignored most ponies and humans anyway. It stung because she knew exactly what he wanted her to say, and why.

"You are...an undocumented flyer."

The breeze in the air whispering through their fur was the only sound up on that lonely cloud.

"Spbpt, forget you." He looked away, his mane blowing over his eyes in a rather cute roguish manner. She shook herself and refocused on her task.

"And you require a transponder-"

"Forget your transponder." Yeah, roguish AND muley, she thought.

White Lightning chimed in, "Second thought, why don't you just fine him. No, taze him. Fine him AND taze him. Your EM device is in your back right saddlebag. Early birthday gift by the way, sis."

Jetstream turned her head to the side, "I'm not tazing him, Lightning." Civil tilted his head, curious. "He's pissed because I noticed he has no cutie-mark."

"What!? He's a foal???"

Civil snorted. "You know, I can actually hear your radio. Your ear practically projects sound like a megaphone. Who is that?"

Jetstream's ears flatten a little, though she puffs up her chest in a prideful response, "That's my sister, White Lightning. Major White LIghtning, who also happens to be my boss. I was ordered to stop you from being a national threat to all aircraft and technically give a warning first, but she wants me to fine you and taze you. Not sure in what order. Same time maybe?"

"You're joking."

Both Jetstream and the earpiece chant in unison, "We in the 520th do not have a sense of humor we are aware of." Both she and her sister on the other end paused for a split second, then they both said rapidly, "Jinx! Double Jinx! Triple Jinx!!!"

"With a cherry on top, YEAH! I win!!!" yelled White Lightning. Jestream could just make out light clipclopping in the background static of her earpiece, meaning her sister was doing a celebration dance. The mare just closed her eyes and shook her head.

Civil lowered himself to the cloud and buried his head in the vapors. "And my mothers wonder why I never find anyone. Pony. Whatever."

A soft voice from above made him pick up his head. Jetstream was standing over him, looking down with her head tilted to one side, "You don't hang out with mares much, do you?" A small headshake was his only response. "Look, you are not in any trouble. Much." A wince from Civil showed he must be used to trouble. "In any case, this is just a first warning. Once we get you documented, we'll just fly over to a place where they can train you up and give you some electronic gear to fly safely, that's all."

With a groan, Civil sat up and muttered, "I have to give you my name?"

The voice from Jetstream's comms replied, "Pony and human." Jetstream just shrugged apologetically to Civil.

A long labored sigh escaped Civil's mouth. "Guess it couldn't last that long, oh fragile freedom of mine. Name was Jason Berringer, now Civil Patrol. True color white with black mane and tail. That it?" Jetstream nodded and typed it into her pad, the data livestreaming to the 520th headquarters to create a new record and link existing records to the human name.

"Buck."

Jetstream's eyes widened at her sister's response. She whispered, "What? What's wrong, sis?" A lack of response from Civil was a sure sign he already knew.

"Well, I was right about you escorting him. Now it's a full blown direct order. Do not let him out of your sight. If he tries to escape. Taze him, for real this time, no joke here."

"Um, okay." Jetstream was not confrontational, at least as far as she could remember. Having to physically take down a stallion was nowhere near on her to do list. "I suppose you heard her. We have to fly to San Antonio."

Civil grumbled and flexed his wings, readying them for flight. "Yeah. I heard. Don't worry, I'm not running. After you, flygirl."

She wasn't sure how to take that, if he was mocking her or just coming up with a pet name. Either one made her uncomfortable in different ways, neither of which she wanted to explore. Spreading her own wings, she took to the skies, one Civil Patrol in tow. Several minutes of flight marked silence between them. She made sure he was close enough to count as a formation flight, keying in the request silently to ATC. Just as they were about to pass into Fort Worth Center, a thought occurred to her.

"Forget you? I'm not making fun of your cutie mark situation, but, isn't that a foal's insult?"

Her partner's flying faltered before he steadied himself. "My mothers raised me not to be mean to girls."

Silence ensued for a while. Then she replied, "How many times have you been slapped by girls?"

More silence.

"Twice."

A smile crept onto her muzzle. So he wasn't a complete gelding. "Human or pony?"

"No comment."

***

The rest of the flight progressed without incident. They spotted the installation, got down below 2000 feet to avoid any training aircraft and started to line up with the building where new students were supposed to check in and hold classes. That's when Jetstream's comms chirped, "Not there. Take him to base command. He is to be hooved over to their Security Forces upon touchdown." Earlier, Jetstream had a sickening feeling that she might be taking him to something difficult. The new destination confirmed it. She could already see a retinue of human sentries waiting in front of the command building. Civil saw it as well and was already headed in that direction.

Just before they were about to land, she turned to him and said, "I'm sorry. I don't know what's going on, but I didn't mean to get you into any trouble like this."

He smiled and shook his head. "It's not your fight. It's mine. History dredging up to meet me on my return to Earth, you could say." They both landed. The Security Forces that stepped up to flank him were decked out in full tactical gear, rifles at the ready but not pointed at him. Yet. He turned to Jetstream. "Tell you what. If we run across each other again, let's just say you owe me."

That put her back some, blinking in surprise. "Owe you? Um, I mean, sure, I feel bad about this. I just don't know how to make things better."

It was Civil's turn to pause. "Huh, um, buy me some seafood sometime, I guess." There was the briefest moment where both humans and ponies shared something significant at the front of the command building that day. It was a steaming pile of awkwardness. He turned around long after it was time to hide his beet red face. Yeah he wasn't skilled at any social stuff. Glancing at the soldiers, he quipped, "Ok, let's go. I've had more escorts than I can count lately...and no happy ending in sight." One of the soldiers tried to stifle a chuckle.

A second soldier turned his head. "Detail, march!"

They left a stunned Jetstream outside as the ensemble marched up the steps and into the building. "Um, sis, are all stallions...aggravating?"

"Yes. We'll have a long talk when you get back, with several apologies from me. I'm supplying the beers."

***

They marched down a long hallway, then up a twist of stairs. A few doorways down and they were in the command section. Skipping the XO's door, Civil was led to the waiting room of the commander in charge of the United States Air Force AETC, or Air Education and Training Command. Civil knew what was supposed to happen once word had gotten to the Air Force that he was back, so he guessed this was one the logical outcomes of coming near any military base. That was why he had originally planned never to visit any base for the rest of his life. Screwed that goal up. The other likely outcome of the military finding out their lost navigator had returned was military police showing up on his doorstep one day and dragging him to the nearest cell to await a tribunal. Or summary judgement. Did they do firing squads still? How did the Army put down lame horses....

One of the soldiers barked at him to sit, so he snapped out of his imaginative daydreaming and jumped into one of the chairs lining the wall. A feeling of being in the principal's office descended on him. But this felt worse. A cold sensation filled his core. Normally others say 'pit of the stomach', though it never felt like that. This feeling was lodged just between his heart and stomach, a fist-sized lump of ice threatening to consume his whole being.

While his body wanted to do it's own thing and panic like a common animal, his mind questioned it with all the intellect of an intelligent being. Why was he scared at all? Well...he never left a note for ol' Uncle Sam, for one. Heh. Humor, the ultimate defense mechanism. This led to another thought. The head of all training for the most powerful military branch in the world, yeah army navy marines, eat it...(fine coasties you too, you weenies) a general who has molded the most efficient war aviators that human history has ever witnessed, is about to angrily gripe at a pony! Civil would have laughed out loud if he was in the audience and not the star of this drama. Still, it was funny. He chuckled quietly, that ball of ice melting.

He looked around at the waiting room. It finally hit Civil that he had been here before. Almost seven years ago he was sitting in these same chairs with a couple of other student aviators. He vaguely remembered it had to do with low exam scores, the punishment earned was a requisite reaming from the commander at the time. Could he still be...? "Berringer, get your failing ass in here!" Yes. He was still here. Civil reluctantly left his escort and stepped into the office of Lieutenant General John J. 'Jaybird' Wirthings. Only very close wing men used his call sign to his face. Civil didn't dare.

He snapped to attention, perfectly centered on the desk just behind the two chairs, as was the required 5.5 feet distance. "Civil Patrol, reporting as ordered, Sir!"

The general never looked up from whatever it was he was writing on. Civil always thought it was a ruse, but never asked. "That's your new name? Huh, almost fits today's agenda." He continued scribbling away. At length he stopped and looked up, then down at Civil. "Holy shit, did you get shorter? They not feeding you over in E.Q. Lahlah Land, or whatever the fuck they call it?" Clearly the general was trying to rile up Civil. While public schools had to accomodate all manner of students, the educational institutions of the military had no such restrictions. If a military person could not control themselves, they were not fit for duty. Why the general was testing that now, again, was a mystery. Maybe force of habit. Well, Civil had grown a little since then.

"Actually sir, I was fed very well in Equestria, though my height is more a racial constraint than any result of poor food selections."

Chuckling on the left side of the room indicated they were not the only ones in the room. Using his peripheral vision, Civil could see two others, one was a Captain, G. Chase by the nametag. The other was a Lt. Colonel R. Pascal. The latter spoke up, "Not as easily flustered as you first mentioned, John." A grunt from the general refocused Civil's attention forward.

"Still a touch of sarcasm. Captain Berringer, do you know why you are standing in front of me today?"

While he really wanted to say something snarky, even Civil recognized this setting as a place where he could get his plot handed to him if he wasn't careful. He went with what he knew. "Sir, nobody has told me directly, so I can only surmise it has to do with me disappearing for almost 3 years into another world without permission from the Air Force."

"Damn straight it is, smartass. That's why OSI is here." A wave of the general's hand indicated the Lt. Col who nodded his head. Office of Special Investigations for the Air Force. Great, hit the big time, ol Civil, he thought to himself grudgingly. He clenched his jaw in frustration. No, he wasn't going to hold back, not today.

He stared down the general and groused, "I don't suppose we are going to remember I was sequestered by this same military after I changed, that you guys were going to ship me off to some lab to be 'cured'?" The general adjusted his sitting position, which Civil misconstrued as a sign of discomfort. "Oh yeah, I heard about Spectrum after we finished with the REAL war on the other side. Did you know the true enemy over there was stirring up all the hostilities here? Did you know actual citizens of this country died at the hands of Spectrum, citizens that were handed over to them by the military? You want to squash me for going AWOL, fine. I can live with the fact that I did something good instead of getting dissected by your people." The general was silent the entire time. Once Civil was done, the older officer glanced at the captain.

"And that's why I am here. I represent the Judge Advocate General in this matter." The captain stood up and produced a sheaf of papers to put down on the desk. "This explains your rights as a citizen and military member, among other things. Sorry I skipped ahead, Colonel." The other officer behind him nodded his head. Civil only stared at the papers, not sure where this was headed.

"Not at all," Lt. Colonel Pascal replied. "First things first. Captain Jason Berringer, aka Civil Patrol, do you harbor ill will against these United States of America, against its military members for retribution or restitution, or seek to subvert any aspect of our society, notwithstanding cultural differences regarding your, eh, new form?"

Civil blinked at the Lt. Colonel. "Ill will? No..." He looked back at the general, who he clearly saw wasn't uncomfortable but was merely relaxing as though expecting a long meeting. "I love this country, I always have. I joined up knowing I might have to give my life to defend it. You think I wanted to hang around and get sliced open for science? Any self-respecting American would tell you to piss off." The general raised an eyebrow and nonchalantly covered his mouth, hiding a small smile. Civil looked back at the OSI officer. "I've known two lives, two worlds. I've served in the military both times to protect those that can't protect themselves. If you think I want revenge or I have to pay for being away without permission, do whatever you think is necessary. I'm just here to go home."

General Wirthings leaned forward, "Home? I thought Equestria was your home?"

"It was..." Civil lowered his eyes, staring at the paperwork on the desk. "Now I'm just trying to get to Dallas."

After a quick leafing through some papers from a folder in front of him, the general looked up, "Your human folks, right?" Civil gave him a quick nod. The general furrowed his brow, "What about your family in Equestria? You were originally born there. Why not stay there?"

Oh, because the high ruler of our land kicked me out, that's why. Bastard isn't getting that answer. "The only family I knew died the first day we returned through the portal, killed in combat. My family in this world is the only family I have left." That made the general sit back, the color somewhat disappearing from his face. The silence hung for a minute as all four of them looked at each other, Civil the only one keeping his eyes caged forward.

The Lt. Colonel stood up. "That about wraps up our concerns. John, say hi to Marge for me? And medium rare, please." General Wirthings gave a small nod in response and the OSI officer stepped out of the office, though the general's eye twitched. There was a brief pause, followed by the general waving over the captain.

"In light of your testimony, it appears we can proceed then. Chase, can you tell this winged navigator what's behind door number one?" Captain Chase gave his superior officer a strained smile and moved to the left seat in front of the desk. He indicated Civil to move to the right seat, which he reluctantly complied.

"Alright. In front of you is a document that lists your rights. It's also an agreement to muster out of the Air Force, voluntary separation pay standard for your rank and time in service." Civil frowned and leaned forward in his seat, reading the first page. He assumed the rest was your basic separation paperwork.

"I don't get it, this is not a preliminary court martial meeting? Was I not considered AWOL this entire time?"

The general shook his head, pressing his fingertips together. "A fair number of AWOL cases have been summarily dismissed on the grounds of hardship and societal upheaval. Some actually stayed behind while others returned here after the battle in your world, though naturally their job positions have changed to accommodate..." He paused, then waved his hand at Civil. "As you can see, we are all adjusting. Since the President himself has a daughter that has changed, he's taken a very sympathetic stance on pony issues, especially in the military. Policies are still trickling down, but we are making do so far."

"And how do you feel about it, sir?" Civil's honest question was met with honest surprise from the general. The human scratched his chin for a bit.

"I have the privilege of not having to voice my thoughts on the matter to subordinate personnel." A typical answer Civil should have expected. He perked up when the general continued, "But after today you most likely won't be within the chain of command, so I don't mind telling you. If it makes the military more efficient, then I am for it. Were you to stay and help, we would find a place for you. Afterall, I am told you pegasi are incredible fliers, from delivery capacity to very specialized scout and drone roles. Personally?...off the record, I have to get used to it. That's as good as you'll get for now, Captain."

Civil nodded. Of course the general would be thinking far beyond what the average airman has to deal with. Needs of the Air Force, to include weeding out troublemakers. "So, my choice is to stay, or leave?" He got a nod from the man across the desk. Civil thought about it. More military life? He had never adhered to the group think that most other military personnel seemed to naturally do. He was always the odd one, not because he chose to. That's just the way he was, finding different ways to do things instead of the standard way. The military way. Yeah, he was ready to move on.

"I think I've put in my time, sir. I'm not running away." He chanced a look at the general and saw the man nod slightly. Clenching his jaw, he looked straight ahead again. "This has never felt quite right. I suppose you knew that a long time ago?"

To his credit, General Wirthings smiled softly, a genuinely warm smile the pegasus had never seen before. "I had hoped you would find your place eventually. You have changed since you were last here, not just physically. If you know deep down this isn't for you, there is no shame in walking away. In a way, you can do things now that no other human soldier can do, which would be a loss to our forces if you were to leave. But, if you were not happy with where you were, being here in the Air Force, you would be a broken weapon, a faulty tool possibly as dangerous to yourself and fellow airmen as you would be to the enemy."

The man sat back and looked out the window of his office, "I have had this same talk with other students in our program and some have voluntarily walked away. It was the right thing for them." He looked back at Civil, "Encouraging a pegasus to walk away while some other units are screaming for you guys to join up? Well, this is not one of those times I say 'stay in, do more good for your country.' No, Civil, you've lost enough in serving both your countries." He leaned back and watched the pegasus for a moment. "I'm not tossing you aside because you are broken. I'm here to make sure you make the right decision. You've given enough. Go home, be with your family."

The pegasus looked down at the papers in front of him. He picked up the pen that was laying next to them with his left wingtip and started filling out the signature lines. He couldn't help but reply mostly to himself, "My last order is to go home and be with family." He chuckled to himself.

Before he got much further, the general replied, "Erm, not quite there yet, soldier." The pen stopped midway through his name on the final entry that would mark him a citizen. Civil looked up. "Your official last order is to retrain how to fly legally in our airspace, get certified on your new transponder, and not be a red smear in any of our engines in the future." Civil wrinkled his nose.

"I think I can handle that."

A throat clearing from the JAG officer caused the general to roll his eyes. "And I am obligated to inform you that by waiving an Article 15 trial in lieu of return to civilian life, you will also be on special retainer to the Air Force. We like to keep our Mighty Morphin Power Pegasi toys."

The pen snapped in Civil's primary feathers, the ink squirting from the metal cylinder into his wingtip. In a panic, Civil wrapped his other wingtip around the leaking pen, undercupping his left wingtip. This caused his other primaries to darken black, but at least none of it spilled onto the documents. "Gah...dammit, what retainer?! Son of a bitch, this is crap! Your policies suck!" He barely spared the general a glance as he rolled ink back and forth to keep it from dripping. "Your 'needs of the Air Force' can suck it too. You know what, even your pens suck. I don't need this shit!" He frantically looked around for a waste basket, which Captain Chase just so happened to be holding. Civil dumped the pen pieces in the basket, shaking out excess ink off his wings.

The general had been watching all of this in dismay. Finally he started laughing. "Yes!" He pointed, "That's the cadet I remember! I can always guarantee something is going to happen around you!" He glanced at Chase, "Just be sure you back me up when I tell John. He thinks I owe him a steak dinner." While Civil fidgeted with his now inked wings, the general focused on him. "I believe you are looking at this all wrong. You will not be called into active service. More of a consultant's position, if we come across any pony type things."

Civil grumbled, "I don't know anything about unicorn magic, and I don't dig in the dirt. I know the skies." After causing the ink to spread around on his wings even more, he finally gave up and sighed, staring at the general. "I only know about these," he waved his wings lightly, "and the skies. And pony culture. That other stuff, you'll have to hound somepony else."

General Wirthings grinned and nodded. "That's all we need. You'll get paid like any other civilian for services rendered. Deal?"

A look over to the JAG was met with a nod. Captain Chase stated plainly, "You will not be forced into combat or have to go overseas unless it's a dire situation. Any undo requests can be countered through our office, and you'll be helping out other ponies we come across that cannot immediately relocate to another unit for specialized training. There are other ponies that help our military members as well, but they cannot always be readily available. If you are settling down in Dallas, that puts you near enough in case we need to reach out to you."

He thought about it. He wasn't against helping other ponies, or anybody for that matter. It was the military aspect of it. He leaned forward and delicately used some clean secondary feathers to shuffle through the remaining paperwork. His expected services were spelled out as mostly consultation regarding pony matters, both civilian and military, with a decent retainer fee anytime he agreed...he glanced up at the JAG, "I get to agree or disagree?"

"Yes. Like the general said, things are pretty fluid right now. Having you guys help us would be good for everyone. Forcing you to do something you don't want to do would be the worst thing possible, especially if we are to promote relations with the new government in Equestria, not to mention make up for whatever the military did in error during the early days of transformations."

A nerve resonated. "Like Spectrum?"

This time it was the general that chimed in, "That matter is being handled, by both the government and ponies stateside. That's all I can say for now. So, are you in, or do we have to stick you in a flightsuit and send you back to Pensacola for Aviation Preflight Indoctrination, again?"

A quick flop of the paperwork and an inked feather slapped down on the last part of Civil's half-written name was his immediate response. The JAG leaned over, noticed the fairly unique mark the feathers left and grinned. "Now that's a signature." He stood up and gathered the papers into a briefcase. "I have all I need. The general's secretary can direct you to the out-processing office at Personnel. General?"

He shook his head, "You're good to go. Remember, steak dinner." The captain grinned and nodded, heading out of the office. The general looked back at the pegaus in front of him. Civil stared back. "That meant you too, flyboy." Jumping out of the seat he stood at attention and saluted with his right wing. The general smirked and said, "You are a civilian now, so you don't need to do that anymore."

"It is a sign of recognition and respect, sir."

General Wirthings regarded him briefly, then stood up and returned the salute. "Indeed it is, soldier, indeed it is. Carry on, and good luck."

The ordeal at the personnel office wasn't all that arduous. He was issued a new military ID with an updated picture. The blood type was left blank, guess they were still trying to nail down the many different types present in ponies. Their was a new field, the small picture conveniently left blank, titled 'Cutie Mark'. Yay, belittled by his own ID card.

Next was a trot over to the training building, as pointed out by a young airman along the way. After he logged in with the class coordinator, he was informed the next class would be starting tomorrow, at 0730. Peachy. He hated mornings, another reason he was happy to be out of the military. Everything was 'Oh Dark Thirty' or some derivative.

Finally, he headed over to the base's temporary lodgings. It was your standard onbase hotel, of sorts. As soon as he posted up on the countertop with his front hooves and showed the ID he was holding in his teeth, the civilians manning the registration desk informed him he already had a room reserved, an officer's suite. Hm, at least that hadn't changed. They weren't even surprised to see a talking pony in front of them. There must have been a fair number coming through for training if they were this cool about it. Tucking his ID away, he walked down two hallways and finally came to the door. Using the keycard they had given him, he made entry and let the door close behind him. Looking around, it wasn't bad at all. Small living room with attached kitchenette, single bedroom. All of it clean.

An image of a cartoon posted up near his old ROTC unit in the hallway back in college caused him to chuckle. It was four frames, each one depicting a different military branch. The first was Army setting up tents in a torrential downpour, with one miserable soldier stating 'This is some shit.' The second frame shows a marine in a foxhole with the same downpour yelling, 'I love this shit!' Next is a Navy captain watching a storm-hammered island from his vessel's bridge, stating, 'That's some shit over there,' while drinking coffee. Last frame, two Airforce officers holding luggage walking into a hotel room, stating, 'This room is shit.' Civil laughed to himself again. The best humor is always grounded in truth.

He shrugged off his bags and walked over to the minifridge, nosing it open while his wings dragged along either side of him. After this whole day, he was mentally and physically exhausted, and all he wanted was YES! Finding new life in his wings, he grabbed the snickers bars and cokes out of the fridge, jumped onto the couch and just laid back, basking in the cold sugary glory. Cold coca-cola was like the sky opening up after a dreary rainy day. And obviously he wasn't going anywhere for a while, snickers. Or was it that he wasn't himself right now? Screw it, it was chocolate and caramel with peanuts.

Some time after sating his most important needs of soda and candy, he glanced over and noticed the older style phone in the room with its hand-held receiver on it. He was reminded of the general mentioning his folks. Civil knew he should call, but he was still mentally drained, so much that he dared not speak to his mother lest he start spouting whatever happened across his brain, something he tended to do when he was tired.

"I'll do it tomorrow, once I figure out how long this class is," he told himself.

With a solid plan set in place on how to completely turn his parents' world upside down, he reached over and grabbed the television remote, curious about the news these last couple of years he was away. Without leave. He grumbled to himself and flipped through the channels.

***

Walking across Randolph AFB wasn't quite as bad as he thought it would be. It was a new day, the sun was up, the sky was nice and clear, and nobody was harassing him. Yet. He shook his head, chastising himself for being so negative all the time. This was going to be good. Refresh his knowledge on flight rules and regulations, get some new gadgets and be done with this place. Really, the whole relearning aviation would have a new cant to it now that he's actually been flying, not just dragged around behind pilots plotting dead reckoning lines and triangulating what the fudge ever. He could fly! Really fly! That thought alone lifted his hooves a touch and he practically trotted to the building marked in Google maps displayed on
his smart phone, which was conveniently strapped to the upper part of his front leg. Any lower and he'd likely kick it off and shatter it.

When he got to the front of the training building, a sign clearly marked to direct new pegasi was displayed out front. He followed the directions on it, walking down the hallway of classrooms. His hooves made rather loud noises as he went, attempts to soften them failing miserably. As he stepped into the doorway, he saw everyone else was in place, watching him enter. He glanced at their hooves and noted they had modified horseshoes attached to them, with what appeared to be rubber soles. Huh, how quaint, he thought. He'd have to ask them where they got those.

There were three other winged ponies, not including him, and a smattering of human cadets in the room. The military trying to maximize resources, he supposed. An instructor was at the front of the class readying the projector with power point slides. Civil grabbed the last available seat on the back row. Two of the pegasi looked over at the newcomer, the closest one to his left a cyan male, with a very pink mare left of the male.

"Today's instruction deals with special use airspace. Since you all have already had some flight time, more or less, you should be familiar with this material, so this is just a voluminous refresher. To get your flight certification though, these lesson hours are mandatory so just bear with me for a bit. There will be coffee breaks to keep you focused. To begin with," He pointed a laser pointer at a list of bullet statements on the projector screen, " we have restricted airspace, prohibited airspace, military operations areas or MOA's, warning areas, alert areas, temporary flight restriction, national security areas, and controlled firing areas, typically up to FL180 or 18,000 ft above sea level. There are also Air Traffic Control Assigned Airspace, but we will be focusing on..."

The cyan male pegasus whispered aside to Civil as the instructor droned on, "I think I need that coffee now, if this is the measure of what we're expected to regurgitate for the next seven days. This crap is literally right out of a wikipedia entry."

Civil blinked, "Seven days!? I thought this stuff was only like, two days! It only took that long last time I was here."

The other pegasus raised an eyebrow, "Yeah whatever. They are making it extra redundant for us ponies since they see us as aircraft with minds of our own. A pilot has to go through a lot of checks and procedures to move a plane around. Us? We can do anything on a whim." His eyes drifted from Civil's mane and tail down to his wings. "Oh hey, awesome contrasts! Normally I'm for more color, but you pull off the whole black and white thing like a bitchin' silent movie. And those wingtips, hotdamn! You came back over through the portal, right? Is that what they're doing in Cloudsdale? Seriously, did you go through a second initiation? That shit is sizzlin'."

Civil blinked at the onslaught, then twisted around his neck to spot his own wingtips. Oh yeah, they were still inked black. Dammit. "These? No, that was an accident. I was using a pen and broke it."

The female leaned way back to look at him, the plastic lollipop stick clacking around on her teeth as her tongue moved it around. "Totally hot. I know this bakery up the street from here. They have the sweetest black and whites." She used her wing to pull the lollipop out of her mouth with a loud slurp, licked her lips and eyed Civil up and down, "I totally LOVE black and whites."

The black and white male pegasus stared at the neon pink mare pegasus. The one in between them had his eyes as wide as saucers. Civil swallowed and replied, "Um, yah, they're pretty good. My grandfather used to go to a place called Cuccio's up in Brooklyn. I liked the cream donuts, myself." The mare stared back at him for a minute.

"Hm, too bad." She popped her lollipop back into her mouth and looked away.

The male's mouth hung open. "Are you kidding?" He lowered his voice and leaned over to Civil, "She totally wanted you!"

Civil frowned slightly. "Maybe. I dunno, she's kind of nice looking." He took another look at her, but she was pointedly avoiding him. "I'm just not ready to settle down." The other pegasus closed his eyes and shook his head.

The instructor was trying to talk over the back row conversation, but so far the only education going on was the cultural courtship exchange going on in the back row, the rest of the class paying it more attention than to the instructor.

"Dude, you seriously need to get laid. She was about to-" He stopped and tilted his head at Civil's flank. "Holy shit! check it out, his cutie-mark is invisible! Wait, is your name like 'Ghost Flyer' or something? I'm Strato Sphere, by the way. Friends call me Strat. But hey, can you make your cutie-mark reappear? Hot Pink, Barro, you gotta check this peg out! Invisible mark!" As the other pegasi strained to see his flanks, Civil put his head on the table. The instructor had already given up explaining special use airspaces and walked off, a written message on the white board stating they had a ten minute break.

Civil muttered, "This is going to be a long week."

***

After the long day of training, the other pegasi agreed to meet up at a pizza place off base. Civil had declined and wandered back to the onbase hotel. He flung himself onto the couch and cleared his mind for several minutes. When he did open up his eyes again, his gaze happened to land on the cell phone sitting on the coffee table. He flopped his wing over and grabbed it. He knew the number. It was the oldest and most memorized number in his head, and he was both excited and scared to dial it.

Granted it was only two years since he last spoke to her, normally the worst thing a child could do to a parent, not talking to them for a long time...though in retrospect pauses in communication like that were usually due to bad family relations, not something like a mere hop to another world, busy killing mutated monstrosities, rebuilding a nation, getting kicked out of said nation, caught by the Air Police, dumped in front of his old training commander and almost getting Article 15'd, conscripted to a lifetime of consultation, force fed more aviation training, questioned by hyperactive ponies and hit on by a sex pot. Oh yah, his mother could not possibly be upset with him for not calling her in over two years, he had the GREATEST excuse in two worlds! So the real question was, what would she say when he finally did call.

Civil sighed and dialed the number. Ring....Ring...connection.

"Hi mom, it's me."

"Hello? Who is this?" Figures.

"It's me, Jason. Look, I can't talk long but I wanted you to know I was coming home to visit, or maybe stay if you'll let me."

"Jason? Jason is that you!? It's been so long! We've been worried sick about you, but the military wouldn't tell us anything. Honey, your voice sounds odd. Are you on a military phone or far away?"

<chuckle> "No..no, ma, listen, it's not the phone. Uh. It's hard to explain like this. I'm in San Antonio right now getting some special training. Could you get Dad to look up the event that happened in Washington D.C. a couple of years ago?"

"Washington? Washington D...dear, wasn't that that hoax with the dragon thing and the little horses-"

"Ponies, mom, they were ponies-"

"Yeah, those. So what do they have to do with anything?"

"It wasn't a hoax. In fact, a lot of what you heard about is most likely true, and wacky, and fantastical. <sigh> I didn't want to talk about it this way, but, did you watch any of those shows that had the pony family on T.V.? Have you heard of Lightning Dust, Irony, anypony like that?"

"Dear, I don't know what you are talking about. You said Washington D.C. right? Hold on, I'm switching phones."

"Mom! I...grr," as he held the phone away from his ear. "No you don't have to run upstairs and use the-"

"I'm on the computer upstairs, dear. But to answer your question, yes, I may have flipped through some programs that had those...'ponies.' Ponies you called them, right?" Typing could be heard in the background. "I saw them on some morning shows, but I thought they were joking..." The typing slowed down, and then stopped.

long pause at both ends

"Jason, are you saying you got mixed up in all that? I'm looking at the internet right now. What I'm reading...this doesn't make sense. How could these creatures exist?"

Creatures.

"Mom, please, I don't want to get into this right now." Took a deep breath. "Do you remember all those discussions where I said everything was connected, that there is so much in this universe that we don't know, that...that our minds are not equipped to know everything. Or how I believed we live in finite dimensions and there existed higher or alternate planes of existence?"

"...Yes...I also remember you tried to tie that into heaven and angels and ghosts, too."

"Um, yeah, I'm still working on that. Let's just say some of that other stuff, the other dimentions thing, I might have encountered. Uh, the reason I couldn't call until now."

Longer pause. "Jason, are you alright? Have you been seeing these...pony...things? Did they experiment on you with LSD? You know they used to do that."

He sighed. "No ma, no LSD. But about the ponies, yes I've actually seen them, worked with them...I would rather do this discussion in person."

"It's okay, dear, you are always welcome to come home. Did you get time off from the military?"

"Well, I'm not in the military anymore. At least the Earth military....>fuck!<" He so did not mean to mention that, or the word fuck to his mother.

"What was that dear? You cut out abruptly, did you say 'Earth' military...wait, what military are you in!?!"

"Please just wait until I get home. I should be there in a couple of days. I have to do some special training here before I'm allowed to fly again. Have to learn how to use a transponder and file my own flight plans now that I'm on my own-"

"A pilot!?! Oh, honey, that's terrific!"

Facehoove, "No! Mom, not-"

"Daniel, our son is a pilot now!"

A male voice in the background, "What? Woohoo!"

Civil's mouth hung open, "Oh god...did Dad just woohoo?"

"Yes, yes he did, dear! That is wonderful news! Did you tell your uncle yet? He was hoping you would get your pilot's license after all these years."

"Ma, it's...it's not what you think. Please for the love of Celest...for God's sakes, don't tell ANYBODY, please? Can you do that?"

In a concerned voice, "Okay, dear. If that's what you want. I don't understand why you want to keep this quiet."

"Just do me a favor and keep my return a secret until I get to your house and explain things. You'll understand then. And then...maybe you'll still love me."

In a nervous voice, "Honey, I'll always love you. Did...did something happen to you? Did you...did you get injured? What did they do to my baby?!"

"Ma! Mom, please, I'm alright. But I might look a little different."

A pause. "Like how different?"

"No. Not, not like this. I know you don't like surprises, but I refuse to do this over the phone. Can you simply honor my wish to speak to you in person?"

A snuffle could be heard before she responded, "Alright, I can do that. Just one question. Are you in any pain? Are you missing a leg?"

He had to laugh, of course she would worry about that. "You know, after realizing I'm finally coming home, I feel really good. Anyway, remember to show Dad that stuff about Washington. And look up Lightning Dust. She was on some talkshows. And ignore anything that says 'fanfiction' or any perverted pictures because then you'll be thinking...just stay away from that stuff."

"Okay, I can do that. You know I can't control what your father looks at after I'm asleep..."

"Ugh, mom, really?"

She sounded slightly better, "I'm just saying. Whatever has happened to you, we'll love you all the same. We'll also get you a better phone. This reception is terrible, makes your voice a bit pitchy."

Groan. "Yes mom, thankyou. I love you too."

>click<

His first phone call on his new phone, and Civil managed to upset his mother without even telling her the whole truth.

This was so not going to go well, he thought sourly.

Next Chapter: It Only Hurt A Little Estimated time remaining: 17 Hours, 14 Minutes