Relocation Factor
Chapter Five: Throwbacks
He was chasing someone. The dank alley that surrounded Bren seemed to pulsate as though it had a life of its own. Rain poured down, blanketing the city and making the streets glisten as though they were coated with oil. The man ran, fast enough to keep out of Bren's reach but not fast enough for Bren to lose sight of him completely. The man's faded, dirty red windbreaker was like a beacon that was just out of reach.
The fleeing man made a mistake. He turned at a fork in the alley, to see that his choice led to a dead end. Ever persistent he turned, with violence in his gait and sex in his eyes. He sprinted for the other alley, but this half second was all Bren needed to close the distance and leap in with a mighty tackle. The man in the jacket landed on his back, and Bren scrambled upwards until he was sitting on the man's chest, keeping him pinned down with his weight. He looked the man in the eyes.
The man smiled. He smiled in defiance. He smiled to tell Bren that although he may have been caught, this wasn't over. Bren had still lost. Bren lost control. Balling up his hand, he rammed his fist into the man's beaming face. Blood ran from his damaged nose, staining his teeth an inky, grenadine red. He continued to smile. Bren struck him again, harder this time.
And that's when Bren's whole damned world came crumbling down. The brick walls of the alley shattered and fell apart under their own weight. Steel fire escapes from the buildings above were ripped from their supports and came crashing to the ground. And amidst all of the chaos, the man's gleaming, red-stained smile still taunted Bren as everything he once knew and believed in dissolved into rubble and shrapnel.
Bren's eyes opened to reality; whatever reality he had been in for the last couple days, anyway. Why was he dreaming of that now? That was years ago. Years upon years ago. He had left all of that behind now. That life was gone. He had ran away. And now he was here. Even further from all of that. Still, now that he had been reminded of that even after all those years, it still haunted him. He had ran so far away. But it seemed as though nightmares have a way of tracking you down. His pondering was cut short when Pinkie Pie shot her head through an open window.
"Bren! Thank Celestia you're awake! Come quick!" she shouted urgently before disappearing back outside. Bren had been in this type of scenario before: a stand-to. Fortunately, he had slept with his clothes and boots on. Rolling out of bed, he hastily donned his armour and chest rig, not bothering to do up the straps or buckles on either. Slapping his helmet on his head so it lolled about casually and grabbing his rifle by the slip ring, he sprinted to the door which he opened with a mighty kick and hauled himself outside, dropping to a knee and bringing the rifle up to his shoulder, ready for a fight.
"SURPRISE!" a thousand voices yelled. Bren looked up in shock to see what must have been damned near all of Ponyville outside. Banners and ribbons joined the surprisingly modern-looking houses together, and balloons were taped to the various market stands pockmarking the cobblestone streets. "WELCOME BREN" and various other forms of the same phrase screamed at him from the banners. Lowering the rifle slowly and confusedly, he made eye contact with each pair of eyes looking at him in the nearest row. His gaze was interrupted by Pinkie Pie vaulting into the air mere inches from his face.
"Morning, Bren! I was sitting around last night after I was finished at Mr. and Mrs. Cake's shop, when I realised that I still haven't thrown you a welcome party! So I rounded up almost every pony in Ponyville! We have cake and pie and cupcakes and punch and pudding…" Bren tuned her out as she trailed on about the various snack foods she had prepared. He didn't like crowds. He got nervous around them. Too many eyes. Too many bodies. Impossible to watch all of them at once. He had dealt with large crowds before. In special forces, back when he was still just an average troop and…before all of this. It still hadn't gotten any easier, no matter how many times he had done it or how much training he received.
Still, these folks seemed the furthest thing from hostile, and maybe he was just being the archetypal cranky army guy over this whole thing. If there was one flaw he had, it was that at times he just needed to learn to relax. "Well, um, thanks Pinkie, and to all of you…um, folks for coming out." Bren dipped back inside and dropped his kit, opting instead to simply bring his drop leg and sidearm. Returning back outside, he saw that now an older, bespectacled pony had taken up position on a stage in the center of town. She locked eyes with him and smiled broadly.
"Fillies and gentlecolts, as Mayor of Ponyville, I would wholeheartedly like to welcome…" she paused to read from a slip of paper. "…Bren MacMillan to our humble town." She paused again to allow the crowd to bang their hooves on the ground in applause. "Bren, would you please do me the honour of joining me on the stage?" Bren looked around nervously, but before he could make a move, the crowd was already encouragingly shoving him towards the stage. This was exactly why he hated crowds. Another thing he hated was being singled out, even if it was for a good purpose like this. Hell, he never even had birthday parties anymore. He was always a gray man, existing only as a background character rather than the star of the show, so to speak. Might be a little harder in this place, however. The crowd finally forced him, grumpily, towards the front, where he climbed onto the stage and gave the crowd a nervous smile and wave.
"Now I'm sure we're all well aware that Bren is a stranger here," the Mayor said as Bren groaned and massaged his forehead with his fingertips. "So we should all do everything we can to make sure our new friend and NAYbour feels right at home." Bren had no idea she actually said the horse onomatopoeia of nay instead of neigh, but the idea amused him so he ran with it. The ponies all stamped their hooves on the ground in applause, which Bren now realised was quite unsettling. To him it appeared as if they were preparing to charge. The Mayor prattled on about friendship and making him feel welcome as Bren zoned out, anxiously searching the crowd for the most space through which he could manoeuvre through. Eventually he heard what sounded like the Mayor wrapping up, and after another round of unsettling hoof stomping, he gave a nod and jumped off the stage and moved toward the snack table. Hell with this nonsense, it was time for some God damned cake.
Slinking his way through the crowd, he made his way over to the table stacked with refreshments, all of which were presented and decorated magnificently. His mouth watered. Apart from a bit of apple crumble he had nibbled on the night before, he hadn't eaten since before his arrival. He only had a few bites of the pastry too; after that, he wound up telling them the story of how he got here, and then had to retire to try and calm his thoughts. Greedily wolfing down several cupcakes and muttering half-incomprehensible responses to the locals' welcomes through his icing-filled mouth, Bren took a big swig of fruit punch and surveyed the scene. They seemed to be leaving him alone with the odd exception; it almost seemed as if the majority were either too nervous to come and talk or too taken aback by his strange appearance. Bren decided to use this to his advantage and make his escape.
Slinking through the back half of the crowd, he managed to sneak his way back to Twilight's house. As he got inside, he saw the small satchel that Rarity had given him with the soaps and towels. Deciding that a shower would be a fantastic idea, Bren remembered seeing a small waterfall and a shallow pond near the mountainous regions beyond Applejack's orchards. Since it didn't appear that any of the houses possessed running water or an indoor plumbing system even, this would be his best bet. He was no stranger to improvisation anyway. Sneaking around the part once more, he walked for a solid fifteen minutes until he found the pond, surrounded by tall grass and reeds. He checked the strength of the waterfall; while it was stronger than your average shower, it wouldn't cause him any injury to dunk his head under it. Doing a final scan to make sure he was alone, he stripped out of his combats and hopped into the clear pond, Rarity's soap in hand.
Stepping into the pleasantly warm water was refreshing. The water level came up to an inch or two below his hips, but the tall grass and foliage concealed him nicely. The tattoo on his right shoulder, the crest of his pre-JTF-2 unit, displayed proudly albeit slightly faded for the world to see. Stepping under the waterfall and letting the water splash over his dark brown hair seemed to revitalise him. As he lathered his body in the soap, he was amazed at his quality. Product like this probably would have sold for almost 40 dollars a bar back home. After he cleaned himself, he stood back under the flowing water and just let himself be immersed. He still had a lot of thinking to do, and this dream he just had didn't do much in the way of shortening his list. Forgetting your past isn't as easy as he had thought it to be, apparently…
"Hey, Bren! What's up?" said a voice appearing out of nowhere. Bren gave a yelp and dived into the shallow water, surfacing only up to just below his shoulders to conceal himself. Rainbow Dash poked her head out from behind the tall grass and giggled.
"Jesus Christ, Rainbow Dash! I'm trying to take a damned shower here!" growled Bren, still crouching to conceal himself in the water.
"Well sorry," Rainbow Dash replied, sarcastically stretching out the last syllable of the word. "I thought I'd try and find you to let you know that you're missing your own party." She giggled again, noticing the tattoo on his arm. "Sweet cutie mark, by the way."
"Parties aren't really my bag," said Bren, now sitting up out of the water a little more. "And what's a cutie mark?"
"That mark on your right side there," Rainbow Dash said, pointing with a hoof. "Here, like these." She stepped further out from behind the grass and showcased a mark on her side above her hind leg. The mark looked like a thundercloud with a rainbow-patterned lightning strike shooting out of it. "We get our cutie marks when we learn something unique about ourselves that nopony else has."
Bren blinked twice. "Right. Well, we, uh, don't get those. This is called a tattoo. You kind of have to do it yourself. I'd love to stay and chat about tattoos, but I am sort of NAKED AS FUCK at the moment. A little privacy, please?"
Rainbow Dash looked frustrated. "Whatever. Catch you later." She lifted herself of the ground and slowly hovered away. Bren took this as a hint that his bathing was taking too long. Making sure no one else was looking, he hopped out of the pond, towelled himself off and got dressed. It felt good to be clean. Almost, to abuse a cliché, like a new man. Slinging the towel and satchel over his shoulder, he set off back towards Twilight's house. He passed Applejack's orchards, still marvelling at their near-untouched appearance despite the many workers actively harvesting them. He checked his watch. If time here was anything like time in Afghanistan, which it appeared to be so far, then the sun should be setting soon. It was approaching winter when he left, and fewer minutes of sunlight were lingering each day.
He walked more leisurely this time, taking more time to observe the sights of this place he had been stranded in. It was staggering: pure untapped nature. With the exception of the houses in Ponyville, it was as if no one had touched anything on the lush green fields and hills. Even the houses seemed to leave no footprint; their modern appearance was about all they shared with houses where Bren was from. With no power, plumbing, or anything of the sort, they were houses only in the sense that they were a shelter from the elements. This entire village was quite…peaceful.
As the time approached six PM, the sun began its closeout routine and bathed the sky in a grenadine-red. The same inky, thick type of red that seeped into the fleeing man's teeth in his dream. The party earlier thrown for him had winded down, with ponies passed out all through the streets. It didn't appear to be alcohol based; to Bren it appeared to be a combination of a massive sugar crash and a food coma. He stopped a few feet away from the door to Twilight's library and instead turned around and walked back toward the farm. Another slow 20 minute walk ensued, and by the time Bren had reached his destination-the rocky hill where he tried to contact home-the sun was only barely peaking out from behind the hills and trees on the horizon. Pulling out the small LED headlamp he always kept in his pocket and securing it to his forehead, Bren activated the light and used it to illuminate his climb up the hill. As an hour passed and the sun finally faded from view, he had made it to the top of the hill in time to enjoy total starlight darkness. He killed the light and sat down on the flat patch of grass he sat a day ago with his radio and GPS.
The moon was out in full again. Studying it in closer detail this time, he saw that the craters and dark seas formed the shape of what looked to be a unicorn. Although it was definitely strange and alien, it was far from the most peculiar thing he'd laid eyes on in the last few days. The weather was notably chilly; Bren figured it must be approaching autumn or winter here as well. He began to speculate on what had been bothering him since he awoke: the dream. He hadn't thought of it in years. That event had caused everything in his life to change. If that had never happened, would he be where he was now, stranded in the strange land of Equestria? Bren figured he was over-thinking things way too much. But still, why now? All of the years before, that memory had been stuffed onto the back burner. Everything else in Bren's busy life had distracted him from thinking of it, perhaps by Bren's own doing. But now that he was stranded here, with even more problems and distractions to apply his mind to, why did it suddenly come up? He needed to talk to somebody. But who, and far more importantly, how?
His train of thought was interrupted again by the soft swooping of wings as Rainbow Dash landed next to him. Not even flinching, he remained focused on the night sky. "Hey, Rainbow Dash," he said softly.
"Hey Bren, I had a feeling you'd be on top of this hill. What are you doing up here all by yourself?"
"Just…thinking. Thinking about…" Bren trailed off. Could he speak what was on his mind to Rainbow Dash? No, of course not. He had barely managed to dumb down the story of how he got here, and that was relatively simple: his dickhead boss hired some people to shoot all of his friends and pressed a button on a magic box to send him here. What was bothering him had way more depth, less clear cut facts, far more grey areas. "I'm thinking about home." Bren said.
"You know, you never told me much about your home," probed Rainbow Dash, sitting closer to him. "What's it like where you're from?"
Bren thought about his answer for a second. "I live in a town called Petawawa, in the country of Canada. I, uh, really don't know what to tell you. We live in houses that are a lot like the ones you have here, except more complex. We have pipes that bring hot and cold water right into our homes, as well as power for things like lights and stuff." He stopped. "Nobody can fly. Not on their own, anyway. For that they use special machines called airplanes or helicopters." He decided to stop talking about the facts and more about what it was to him. "Where I live, on the base, there's this little gravel trail that runs around the base and through the woods. I run that every day. Not so much for the exercise, but just for the scenery. And the smell." Rainbow Dash was looking at him wide eyed. "We're pretty far away from the big cities, so the air just smells really clean. If you manage to get high up above the valley, it's almost got a sweet smell to it. And in the forests, it smells amazing, like diving into wet leaves." He decided not to tell her about growing up in Vancouver. Vancouver was gone now.
"Sounds…like a nice place." Rainbow Dash clearly was just trying to be polite due to a lack of words to say. Bren just nodded. "Do…do you think you'll figure out a way to get home?" She almost sounded apprehensive.
Bren tightened his grip in his forearm. "I don't know. But I do know that I have to. I can't stop trying. I won't stop trying." Rainbow Dash just looked at him for a second, then brought her head close to his and nuzzled his cheek before resting her head in his lap. Bren smiled. She was like a pet. It was like the talking dog that every 9 year old boy wants had finally been given to him years later. Bren just smiled and, not knowing anything better to do, scratched behind the blue pony's ears as he stared up at the alien moon winking down at