//------------------------------// // Chapter 8 // Story: To Each Their Own // by Wheller //------------------------------// Chapter 8 Vinyl Scratch and Octavia showed Willoughby into the transmission room. The set up was slightly different from what he was used to, but Willoughby assured them that he could manage just fine. Vinyl and Octavia excused themselves, giving him privacy to speak to his superiors, and time for them to talk as well. Willoughby tuned the radio to the coded frequency of Regimental Command, giving him a direct line to field headquarters in the Hoofson Bay. As this was a civilian frequency, he took steps to make sure that no one in Manehattan could listen in. Anyone who tuned to this radio station would get nothing but static until he was done. “I’m not familiar with this frequency, identify yourself,” said a voice on the other end of the radio. “Hello Op, how’s the grass today?” Willoughby asked, what seemed like nonsense was a coded response, so that those broadcasting on unfamiliar channels would know that the source was legitimate. “My my! Benjamin Willoughby! There’s a voice I thought I would never hear again... and for your information, the grass is still covered in gods damned snow!” the voice replied, causing Willoughby to chuckle. He was speaking to the Operator, the most senior radio officer in Regimental Command. He knew every kangaroo in the regiment by their voice. Every single one. “It’s a good thing you called when you did, Command was about ready to update Light Tank 105 to Killed in Action, we were all afraid that the gryphons got you on your way back from taking those ponies home.” “Nah, we’re all fine. We had engine trouble just as we pulled into the town of Ponyville. Engine’s shot. Cause is lack of regular winter maintenance, and loading improper fuel.” “I’ll pull the work logs and make sure whoever was in charge of your tank learns the importance of proper winter maintenance.” “I would appreciate that Op,” Willoughby said. “I’m also sending you a list of parts Sergeant Tebbs needs via wireless. He’d prefer you just send a new engine block all together, but I told him it would never get through Equestrian Customs.” “Will anything we send? CSI doesn’t have any relations with Principality of Equestria, any time CSI has tried to get something in, it either never arrives, or gets sent back.” “I’ve been informed by one of the ponies we took back that she has significant pull with their leader. Anything that CSI addresses to ‘Twilight Sparkle’ will make it though,” Willoughby said. “Heh, and I thought my name was out there. Major Thaddeus Braxton isn’t anywhere close to being off the wall as that... Give me a report on the second objective.” Willoughby froze, he’d completely forgotten about it. “Trooper?” “I’m not sure I feel... comfortable, reporting that sir.” “I figured as much, but it’s not up to me, hell, it’s not even up to the Colonel. This comes down right from the top.” “All right, I don’t have much that’s useful though... I can debunk some rumours. Rumour No.1: Equestria has a huge army that no one can possibly defeat. Everything I’ve seen says that it couldn’t be any further from the truth. Equestria has almost no standing forces to talk about; they didn’t know what a tank was when we rolled into town. Rumour No.2: Equestria has a weapon of mass destruction that they’re willing to use on anyone who stands against them. Highly unlikely, almost every pony I have met is appalled by the mere thought of violence. I had to use my gun once when we were here and they weren’t happy about it. Rumour No.3: Equestria is ruled by living gods who could smite any enemy that tried to attack them... I don’t know about this one, everypony seems to think that this one is true. I’d have to do more digging and get back to you.” “Thank you Trooper. I got your list, and we’ll have the parts shipped out to you as soon as we can... Stay safe Benjamin.” “You too Op.” ... Vinyl Scratch joined Trooper Willoughby in the elevator on their way down. “How was your talk with your friend?” Willoughby asked. “Oh... heh, we didn’t actually do that much talking...” Vinyl said grinning at him. The kangaroo facepalmed, he was going to be living with images in his head that he’d rather not have thought about. “How was your talk with your commander?” Vinyl asked. “I didn’t talk to my commander... I talked to someone else,” Willoughby said. “Legally speaking, I can’t say anymore than that.” “Cool, that’s cool.” Vinyl said, she began humming a tune, but stopped short. “Why can’t you have a name that goes with ‘secret agent’ in a melody?” Willoughby chuckled. “Being constricted by the War Secrets Act doesn’t make me a secret agent Vinyl Scratch.” “I bet that’s what you say to all the mares who figure you out,” Vinyl said with a grin. ... Trixie and Derpy were standing in the snow of Manehattan’s central cemetery. Before them were the graves of Trixie’s parents. Tears began to flow from Trixie’s eyes, prompting Derpy to give her a hug, and a pat on the back in encouragement. “Hello mum, dad,” Trixie said, choking on her tears. “I’m sorry that it took me so long to come here... I’m sorry I couldn’t have been there at the funeral... both your funerals. I convinced myself that I had better things to do.” Trixie dropped to the ground, planting her face down in the snow, her crying intensified. “Dad, I’m most sorry to you, I could have done something, when mum died I should have been there for you, you needed me, but I was hurt too and instead of doing the right thing I ran away. I ran away when you needed me the most. If I had been there... maybe you wouldn’t have hung yourself to get mum back. Maybe you wouldn’t have needed to. I’m so sorry.” Trixie raised her head up to the third plot beneath the headstone that was reserved for her. “I’ll be joining you soon. Our family will be back together as it should have been. I just wish I hadn’t been selfish, and that we could have been a family when we were all still here.” Trixie rose to her hooves. “Goodbye mother, goodbye father. I’ll see you both soon.” Derpy gave her friend another hug, and helped wipe the tears from her eyes. “It’ll be all right Trixie, I’m sure they forgive you,” Derpy said with a smile. Trixie returned her smile. “Thank you for everything you’ve ever done for me Derpy Hooves, you are the best friend I have ever had.” Derpy smiled, and the duo left the cemetery for the last time. ... Lyra and Bon Bon were sitting at a bakery and coffee shop on Fifth Avenue in downtown Manehattan; they were sitting outside, quietly sipping their coffee. Manehattan wasn’t as glamorous as they’d thought it was going to be. Everything was more expensive, and they’d almost wished that they’d never come along at all. They didn’t need to be anywhere but home to have fun and enjoy the company of friends. But it was the friendship that they’d made with Vinyl Scratch, Trixie, Big Macintosh, Braeburn, and Trooper Willoughby that made it worthwhile. “I think I’ve figured it out,” Lyra said finally. “Oh? Do tell.” Bon Bon said. “Happiness isn’t a place you can go, Happiness is a trip that you go on with your friends. Wherever you end up isn’t important. As long as you’re with your friends, you’ll never be lost,” Lyra said. Bon Bon smiled. “I can’t imagine ever going somewhere without you Lyra.” “Same here,” Lyra said returning the smile. The two ponies embraced each other, not noticing, and certainly not caring that everypony else was staring at them. They didn’t matter. All that mattered was that they had each other.