Tropical Sorrows

by Microshazm

1. French Connection

1. French Connection

~ I hate travelling and explorers.

The many streets of Jakarta were always bustling and busy, but never chaotic. There was always a certain calmness in the middle of all the trading and bartering – daily life, that is. It seemed like during late morning, when the Sun has just begun scorching the skins of the less-prepared, Jakarta manages to attain a unique atmosphere; something that the modern world has smothered with all of its brilliant inventions and applications.

Claude couldn't care less. He was busy waiting for his customers, also known as napping.

The rather small man blended well into the scene. He sat on a small stool, leaned against his tall scrapmetal fence, his face hidden under a light tan fedora. To many passers-by he was more a sculpture than a living being. The approaching group of six ponies were no exception.

”Lavion de tro– somethin', I guess we're finally in the right place,” said Applejack, a bright orange earth pony with a hat quite similar to Claude's.

”Phew, it took us a while to get here. This city is one big maze,” said the light purple unicorn, Twilight Sparkle, while magically holding a city map in front of her.

”We would've made good time if Rainbow Dash showed off a little less,” Applejack retorted.

”Hey, it's not my fault these people haven't seen a real flier before!” The light blue pegasus flew in front of the pack and pointed a hoof towards a small but enthusiastic crowd of people cheering for Rainbow Dash – each in their own language and dialect. ”It's my duty to show off a little.”

“These people haven’t just not-seen a flier. I don’t think they’ve seen any live pony, at all! We’re celebrities!” said Pinkie Pie, a bright pink earth pony, while bouncing around the scene – also getting a share of admirers.

“I call horseapples! This is a capital city for heaven’s sakes.” But Pinkie Pie wasn’t listening to Applejack, or anypony else, for she was busy with people wanting to pose in a picture with her.

”Just ease up everypony. We are here now, aren't we,” said Rarity, another unicorn with a pure white coat, wearing a purple sunbonnet that went nicely with her mane. ”We didn't get lost and the Sun is shining, no need to make such a scene about it. Applejack, this is the right place. L'avion de tropiques – aeroplane of the tropics! Ah, reminds me of Paris!”

”You've never told me you went to Paris,” said a timid voice, barely audible to the untrained ear. It belonged to Fluttershy, a light yellow pegasus, whose long, pink mane seemed to always cover at least half of her expression.

“I haven’t? Oh, it was absolutely magnifique! It was me, Shimmer Stardust, Merigold and that fabulous Arman, who showed us around. He was waiting for us at Charles de Gaulle...”

The other four’s pupils shrunk into pinpricks. Twilight’s quick thinking was the first to attain results: “Hold on there, I’m sure there’ll be plenty of time for you two to catch up.”

“But we must press on, you’re right, Twilight,” added Rarity, prompting a silent sigh of relief, “then, where is our link, our contact, our guide?”

“Ooh, I know, it’s him right here!” Pinkie Pie hopped next to the statuesque Claude and popped his hat from his head. His eyes shot open the moment the shadow cast by the fedora left his face.

Claude had gentle features over his thin figure. He had brown, ambiguous eyes, a short but sharp nose, and his chin was clean-shaven. His short hair was only a tad darker than his almost pale white skin which gave Claude a spectral appearance in the sunlight. The flat wisp of hair on his forehead only emphasized an already distinctive widow’s peak.

He sprung up and caught the hat by the rim before it touched the ground. After brushing off the few specks of dust, Claude put the fedora back on and raised his annoyed face. He stood in front of the ponies, wearing a bleach white tank top and a pair of tan plus fours along with his hat.

“Calme-toi, madame. Si tu sépares un homme de son chapeau, ça peut te coûter un doigt.” Claude spoke with a cultured Parisien accent, indicating he had grown up in an educated household. Claude veered his gaze from Pinkie’s face to her hooves. “Ou quelque chose de même valeur.”

“You do not threaten any of my friends like that, monsieur!” While the others could nothing but stand and watch, Rarity was most aware of the situation. “But I’m willing to give you another chance, pour t’excuser, bien sûr.” To further impress the Frenchman, Rarity lightly brushed the tip of her elegant purple mane with her foreleg, as if it wasn’t beautiful already.

Claude’s expression softened – he even briefly smiled at Rarity’s performance. “Pardonnez-moi, madames. But I ‘ave a very important meeting soon. Alors, go away.” He sat down in his stool, but his eyes were still onto the ponies.

The ponies, with the exception of Fluttershy, who flinched enough to jump half a metre upwards, were unfazed by Claude’s new use of language – and the strong accent. Though he didn’t look the slightest bit threatening, Fluttershy was eager to follow his order as quickly as possible.

“Hold on Fluttershy, we’re not going anywhere yet,” said Twilight firmly and stood up closer to Claude, “So, are you, or are you not Claude Strauss?”

“Ouais, c’est moi,” he answered without showing his obvious surprise, “mais, as I said, I’m busy.”

“It says right here, that a certain ‘Claude Strauss’ would accompany the six of us to the Papuan Highlands.” Twilight was levitating a sheet of paper in front of Claude, who snatched it.

While it usually was hard to distinguish the continental in Claude, the six ponies had the best available seats for this particular showing. Whereas the tropics communicate with form and feel, Claude expressed an explicit demonstration of colour: a quick turn to bleach white which was soon followed by a deep, blushing red.

“LES CONNARDS! C’est vous, les ambassadeurs!? Non, c’est pas possible! C’est faux! C’est une blague!” Claude stood up, eyes digging into the paper again, but his tantrum remained. “Merde! Ces connards me trompent!”

“Ne pleure pas, monsieur.” Rarity managed to get her soothing words through the noise coming from Claude, as well as all the random things he was kicking around. But he stopped instantly after hearing the words and quickly turned his back at the ponies.

“Que!? I’m– I’m not crying!” Claude turned around but kept half of his face hidden under his hat. “Une petite surprise, c’est tout. I was expecting the real ambassadeurs. The men, who shoot their enemies’ ‘eads off with miniguns, and after that, cut off their testicles avec les épées des samouraïs!”

“Cut off their testicles! Is this guy insane?” Claude gave no reaction to Rainbow Dash’s remark, but Applejack answered for him:

“I wouldn’t worry too much ‘bout that, Dash. ‘Cause I wanna know why’s he expectin’ these testicle-cutters instead of us.”

Claude picked up on the comment and turned to Applejack, revealing his beetroot face in the process. “Do you know what’s in Papouasie? Does even one of you know where we’re going?”

“Jungle, extinct volcanoes, very few people...” Twilight listed.

“And paradise birds, tree-kangaroos, and lots of different butterflies,” Fluttershy chimed in, the familiar subject encouraging her.

“...and apparently a certain scientist lost in the middle of it all.” Twilight’s conclusion curved the Frenchman’s mouth to a faint smile.

“Avec ça, on peut commencer. But there’s still a lot you must now. Alors, venez.” Claude turned to face his fence and yelled over to the other side: “Ouvre! Nous avons des visiteurs!”

The group entered Claude’s yard, a scrapyard with a low, sand-coloured hangar standing in the middle amidst piles of thrashed metal. Claude led them to it and inside his office. A young Jakartan boy with a cyan t-shirt accompanied him, and they had a brief but lively discussion – Claude speaking French and the boy Indonesian.

After introductions in the scantily-furnished office, Claude drew out his mobile-phone and turned on its laser projector. The image shown on the wall was that of a young woman. She had smooth, fallow brown hair that just didn’t touch her shoulders, blue, round eyes and thin eyebrows. Her whole face was somewhat narrow, but most of her features were soft.

“La scientifique, Emma ‘Emsy, she’s a sociologist from Toronto. I took this photo a year ago, when I took ‘er there for the first time. She came back on ‘er own.” Claude changed the picture; it was Ms. Hemsy again but from a different perspective. The next one had Hemsy wearing Claude’s fedora.

“Looks like Claude has a crush on somepony,” said Pinkie Pie around the twentieth Hemsy-themed picture.

“Ah, tais-toi...” Claude began rifling through the pictures fast enough for the ponies to lose track. He settled on a different photograph: a light pink unicorn with a curly mane about the same colour as the purple in Twilight’s coat. The blue in its eyes was a straight giveaway. “This is Madame ‘Emsy two months ago, when I took ‘er back. She ‘ad got converted in Toronto.”

The slide show ended. “I only have one photo of ‘er like that. Elle était très pressée. She wanted to go immédiatement. I tried asking why, mais, she was secretive. Also, she ‘ad changed considérablement, it was confusing,” Claude said with his eyes looking out of one of the tiny windows the office had to offer.

“And we’re off to rescue her, is that it?” Rainbow Dash’s voice held a certain anxiousness due to the group being crammed indoors, but it also hinted of a heart for adventure.

“Oui, c’est votre mission! I’m only ‘ere to accompany. ‘Ow come you know so little of this? I would not even do this, if it was not for Madame ‘Emsy. Et j’ai signé le contrait avec mon sang, mais, c’est pas important.”

“We trust that Princess Celestia has made the right decision sending us here for this task,” said Twilight in an official tone, “and to be honest, we can deal with a lot of situations, even dangerous ones.”

Claude sighed and splayed his arms at the ponies. “Bien alors, follow me. Let’s go meet Dina.” He walked the few steps to the room’s back door, opened it, and they entered the hangar.

There was one craft in front of them, but since Claude was the only pilot, that was all they needed. The vanilla-coloured craft had “Dina” spelled on its side. It was in good condition, sleek and shiny, even in the shade of the hangar. Its design was another marvel in itself; Dina was both a jet plane and a helicopter. The blades would fold back and function as wings, allowing the dual-jet engine underneath to take over and carry the craft to higher speed and altitude.

“Magnifique, n’est-ce pas? The absolute coolest avion around,” declared the Frenchman.

“Très magnifique. So elegant, so smooth.” Rarity whooped, getting odd looks from her friends. Such enthusiasm over an aircraft was uncommon for Rarity, especially when most of her recent letters and other messages suggested the opposite: steadily growing apathy.

“But is it fast?” asked Rainbow Dash.

“Ouais, c’est la haute-technologie. Très rapide. It carries eight people, mais we will not bring any extras because Kakara, le garçon, ‘as to take Dina back ‘ere. And we can’t bring any tools or equipment, seulement les nécessités. Les tribus ‘ave their beliefs and they will not let us mingle.”

“The tribes? What’s their incentive in this?” It was Twilight’s turn to ask. Though being the most educated of the bunch, it was an elementary question to Claude.

“Fifteen years ago, a company called Pan American Corporation invaded Papuasie but not with weapons, it was technology. For a month, they flew avions all over the mountains, dropping brown boxes partout la jungle. They changed le milieu forever. C’est pourquoi Madame ‘Emsy était allée là.”

As Claude went silent, a surprising source took his place, it was Fluttershy.

“The techno tribes,” she said silently but firmly enough to be heard well. The group turned towards her – each of them had their brows arched in a similar, incredulous manner.

Fluttershy took the hint: “I just happened to... in that Bureau in Bangkok. I heard an old professor talking to another man about...” She turned her gaze up at the ceiling and threw an awkward smile. “The strangest pieces of– that one could hope to find. There were others, but he mentioned the Papuan techno tribes to be the most... disturbing.”

Claude gave Fluttershy a lazy applause. “Could not describe them better myself.”

“So we’ll just have to meet ‘em,” said Applejack, summing up everypony’s thoughts, though the thirst for more information was hard to keep in control – especially for Twilight, whose expression had changed to a deep frown. She was starting to worry.

“Ouais. Prepare yourselves to leave.”