Epilogue – Nursehoof Hospital, Ponyville
·Benson: *beat* Affirmative. Benson out.
(McIntyre puts the speaker back onto the bulky device to which it is connected, and lays back down into his sickbed. It is slightly smaller than usual, but that doesn’t concern him too much. He looks around. To both his right and his left, some of the more awake soldiers have crowded around him and the radio, puffing and sharing cigarettes and silently judging the situation in their heads. Most of the others, however, still lie wearily in their own sickbeds, only waking up now from their deep sleep. One or two rows from McIntyre’s bunk, Finch sits upright in his bed, re-reading the last pages of “The Lost World”, utterly trying to ignore McIntyre)
·McIntyre: *to the soldiers around him* Right, you heard Benson, guys. We’ll be going home soon, extraction crew is coming. We are technically not POWs anymore, so you could technically get some fresh air outside. If anyone still feels sick or lame, complain to someone else. Technically.
·Soldiers: Aye, sir. *they scatter. Some have a good stretch and then make their way out the rather sizeable infirmary ward*
·McIntyre: *grimly looking over to Finch* I hope you are happy now, Mr. Finch.
·Finch: Happy? *closes his book shut, and looks at him menacingly* Why I get the feeling that you lust for blood, McIntyre?
·McIntyre: What is that supposed to mean?
·Finch: We both are lying in hospital beds in a foreign subcontinent, completely isolated from the rest of the world, with a substantially unique ecosystem and civilisation, while one of us was nearly shot to death by members of the same expedition while the other one was nearly killed by a supposed blockbuster, and two diplomats almost single-handedly managed to avert a war on a global scale, preserve their lives, both of our lives and all in all still managed to complete the diplomatic talks.
And you little son of a bitch lie here and ask me if I were happy? Did you want war, McIntyre?
·McIntyre: I want acknowledgement for what I did was right. That I acted according to the standard international protocol. I don’t wish to sound melodramatically egocentric, but…
My reputation is ruined. My career is gone.
Once we return to mainland, I will be put in front of an international inquiry board for causing an international incident, while trying to act to protocol, as well as to follow my own orders.
I just know this is how it will go for me. I mean, what will they do with accusing with her royal majesty, huh? One cannot blame an entire country, even when it is so obviously justified. Ah well, they can still send her a mellow ‘condemnation’… I, on the other hand, will receive the fist.
They will throw the books only at those who are in range.
·Finch: Don’t you get emotional with me, McIntyre. Would you have listened to me, you would probably not be lying here and complaining in the first place!
·McIntyre: You nearly broke my damn nose! You call that a friendly advice?
·Finch: No, I don’t. *realises his perhaps irate behaviour* That was… the heat of the moment. But can you understand what pressure I was in? Inside that castle, one regent’s peaceful talking session was suddenly being overturned by that rabid sister of hers. First that one tries to hide us, then the other one tries to have us arrested, and then our own escort nearly shoots the whole place apart. And then, as if it couldn’t get any worse, a jet or two fly by, nearly bombing the roof away from over us. I hear you coming, try to escape out of their grasp to warn you, in order to end this whole madness, and… get machine-gunned as a result. Perhaps, yes, I was a bit under heat...
·McIntyre: You can add my day as well. Biting my fingernails out from ten in the morning, hoping, no… praying the plan B would not come into effect. And then, your lift indeed did not return. Something had happened.
That meant I had to ring up a dozen agencies in- and outside the country (Mordor, UN, Pentagon, Whitehall, name what you will), organising the deployment permission, getting the forces into to the base, rounding up the pilot cadets, receive the foreign observers, appeasing people above and under me, and lastly getting all the aircraft out of the hangars. It is a logistical and bureaucratic nightmare!
·Finch: Speaking of “Something had happened”; where is our air crew from yesterday morning?
·McIntyre: Well, you know that one of them we found in a forest with a broken foot. And concerning the other two: that blue horse with that 80s cut mentioned that they were imprisoned somewhere else… Main thing is they were alive the whole time, too. I guess they will be brought here anytime soon, then.
Which is good. Perhaps they know who fired that first shot…
·Finch: Ah… Well, as I said… I will definitely apply as a witness for testimony.
·McIntyre: You bet; you’ll have to, anyway.
·Finch: Even if I don’t have to, I will come. After all, I am quite interested myself in how this will end. *looks at the radio* How did you contact the mainland, anyway? I thought this area was out of bounds for all radio connection or something.
·McIntyre: It was that purple horse with the horn. She proposed to ‘repair’ the thing. She came back a minute later, with a fully ‘repaired’ receiver. I don’t know what she did. I don’t know how she did it. But it works now, so I won’t question anything.
·Finch: Fascinating.
·McIntyre: Isn’t it? Speaking of which, what exactly was wrong with that fully grown mare’s mane hair?
·Finch: Who? Princess Luna? Or Princess Celestia?
·McIntyre: Dunno, both of them. What was… that? *gesturing the hair on his own head*
·Finch: Maybe it was an optical illusion of a sort. You know, a ‘Glass Noodle’ effect…
·McIntyre: A what?
·Finch: Well, the hair is maybe transparent, and then it waves in the wind, and sunlight falls on it, and… boof.
·McIntyre: Aha…
·Finch: I am generally amazed by the peculiarities of this world. There are so many of them that all my rational explanations simply cannot… keep pace.
(The doors open, and the princesses enter the room, closely followed by their bodyguards, the mane six and Dr. Matuszek and Mr. Hartfield)
·Twilight: Good morning, Mr. Finch.
·Luna: Good morrow to thee, Donathan Finch.
·Celestia: I hope you have recuperated over the night.
·Doctor: Unfortunately not yet, your Highness. One of the human medics said that he must be transported back to a human hospital for more… specialized… treatment. You must understand, we have never treated a human before.
·Celestia: Oh. If that is so, I wish your wounds will heal fast.
·Finch: Thank you, Your Highness. *looks at Matuszek and Hartfield* I have heard that the conciliation had a positive conclusion.
·Hartfield: If I may judge so, Your Highnesses, it was a success. Apart from negotiating peace between us, we have also declared that all prisoners of war are to be returned to their respective countries. If the confirmation from the government of Australia, peace will be secured for a long time.
·Matuszek: And apart from that crisis, the UN proposal considering the cooperation between our civilisations has been successful as well. Shared sciences, education and politics. I can say with great relief that our first steps together, although treacherous and unpredictable, but presented us with the directions for a peaceful trod.
·Luna: Hear hear. We have deeply believed in the good of man, and have continued to do so for the last centuries, whether in regency or in exile. Although we may have been not aware of all the encounters between Equine and Man, which regularly ended in calamity due to the… unpreparedness of both groups’ parts, we have kept up the dire hope of concurrence.
·Celestia: I believe that I have to apologise for my mistrust. I confess that my deeds were heavily warped by the leaden curtain of a dark past. It was not justified and against the very principles of Equestria. *looks at Fluttershy and Rainbow Dash* Compassion and Loyalty – two of the most important elements of the Equestrian philosophy. It was a certainly hard lesson to be learned, even for a regent.
·Fluttershy: Sometimes, all we need to do is to be faithful in the good will of others.
·Pinkie: Oh! Oh! And to laugh the dark and unknown in its dark and unknown face.
I mean not literally, because if it’s dark and unknown, then how do you know where it’s face is? What would you be laughing at then, huh?
·Celestia: That is true, Pinkie Pie. An enormous amount of faith brings this capability about. It is a lost art in its own right.
·Luna: However, Celestia, the art exists in the ability of not only remaining positive in the face of the unknown, but also in the controversial.
·Celestia: How so? What do you mean?
·Luna: *to the door* Please, you can come in now.
(Instantly, Octavia emerges from behind the infirmary double door, however still bearing a very unsure expression)
·Pinkie: Hey, Octy! How is life?
·Octavia: *falling on her sister’s neck* Pinkie! You are not hurt?
·Pinkie: Nah, I’m way too busy for that sort of claptrap.
·Matuszek: Oh, Ms. Strings, isn’t it? How are you doing?
·Pinkie: “Strings”, Octy?
·Octavia: It… it’s just a stage name. I just didn’t think “Octavia Pie” was very… poignant. *to everyone* Please, call me Octavia Pie.
·Applejack: Octayvia. Where have ya been? We wer’ wurried sick, y’know.
·Luna: Octavia came straight to me, to report of the occurrences in the woods.
·Rarity: But when did she arrive?
·Luna: A little bit after noon. She had been very fast. She said that it was very important and that We had to know all about it.
·Octavia: Yes… I first wanted to tell her all about the visitors. But Princess Luna knew all about it, already. Then I told her how Fluttershy and Rarity had found and treated a completely different human from Everfree Forest. How he said that he was a soldier, and tried to put a fight with Rarity, and then even hurt Pinkie. But I also told Princess Luna how scared he was, and how uncertain his attitude had been. I could never forgive him hurting Pinkie, my sister, but I still felt a little sorry for him.
·Celestia: Luna. Are you saying that you knew what had happened? You knew that humans were attacking ponies?
·Luna: No, Celestia. I knew that one frightened, wounded human tried to struggle with the ponies who had found and cared for him. I was not being immediately decisive on what his intentions were, or if this was part of a bigger event. I wanted to find out for myself.
Call it lack of creativity, but I am usually very accurate about finding proof for such facts since… you know when.
·Celestia: It is a lesson that one has to learn, better sooner, *sighs* than later. *to Octavia* And what concerns you, Octavia…
·Octavia: Yes, Your Highness?
·Celestia: I have always known you as a dreaded, exceptional musician and philharmonic virtuoso. But that you are a pony of such pragmatic thought and open heart, I did not. You have shown bravery and intuition in the face of the strange and awkward.
The mourning about your sister’s fate is, although genuine and heart-felt, has not stopped you from doing the right and most sensible thing. To tell only the truth, and the full truth at that, to someone you did not even know very well. Perhaps the same someone who had been among us known only as a creature of the dark, my sister. However, you did know that she was both honest and sensible, and that she could be entrusted with such information, as we all learned yesterday and now.
Also that *she winks at Applejack* is an element. Yet, you do not represent an element of harmony, like your sister. It is a shame, as you do deserve a reward.
·Octavia: Thank you, Princess Celestia.
·Celestia: *turns to Finch* And the same would also apply to you, Mr. Finch. Your valor in the face of danger and the risk of possible failure, and thus your decision to put all one’s eggs in the basket is quite remarkable in its own right.
·Finch: *humbly and uneasily* Thank you very much, Your Highness. *small pause* However, I am afraid that I cannot accept the honouring.
·Luna: Whyever not, Donathan Finch?
·Finch: As a subject and a member of the diplomatic service of Her Royal Highness, Queen Elizabeth II, it would be highly tendentious to accept extralocal honourings. Nevertheless, I feel deeply honoured by the proposal.
·Celestia: It is a shame that this is the philosophy of your country, even though I understand why. *turns to the others* And apart from that, it is never bad to hold on to the own principles, even if confronted with the Uncharted.
·Finch: Yes, the Uncharted. *taps his book in irony* How true it is.
·Celestia: What book is it that you are reading?
·Finch: Oh, this is a book called “The Lost World”. It is about a group of explorers who discover a completely isolated habitat, untouched by the outer world for millions of years. *grins* It was too tempting a pun to make.
·Celestia: And how does the story end?
·Finch: Well, it ends with the explorers surviving the new world, and returning to their country as famous and wealthy voyagers. The Terra Incognita is discovered for the rest of the world, and serves it from that day forth as a museum and a true treasure for most if not all fields of science. *he notices Dr. Matuszek’s worried face*
Still, your Highness, it is a part of the book I cannot consent with. Perhaps, Dr. Matuszek would like to tell you why.
·Matuszek: Your Highness, this is not the goal of our expedition. This country should not be treated as a treasure cove or a museum; it is a living witness, and should be looked upon with care and respect. Your world should have as much knowledge from ours as we do from yours.
·Luna: We have waited for a long time to hear such a proposal. While we still are very loyal to Equestria, we cannot help ourselves but be fascinated by the world beyond. There certainly is a lot to catch up to… We wished this were the only time this phrase would apply.
·Hartfield: What does Your Highness mean?
·Luna: It is a long story, Lucas Hartfield.
·Applejack: Wehl, looky ther’. It´s the camera guy, aint it?
(Everybody turns to Laukkinen, who migrates from bed row to bed row, filming the smiling and cheering soldiers, strongly cemented in the belief to have laughed death in the face themselves. Also Laukkinen, who had witnessed the moon spark spell first hand, is giddy as a schoolboy, talking to himself, as if he were narrating a documentary about what he had seen)
·Applejack: Hey, mister! Whah don’tcha lay off the camera and come over here? We’ve got plenny of stories to tell ‘ere! Penny to write up, dont’cha think?
·Laukkinen: *exasperatedly* Of course, just one moment, please. I will make these photos, too. I just want to document the whole mission *to the soldiers in their beds* Come on, you! Smile a bit, these photos will get sent home to your sisters’ cousins. Make a good impression.
·Hartfield: Uhm, I don’t think so, Laukkinen. Those are SASR. Nothing will get sent anywhere, alright?
·Laukkinen: Oh. What a shame. *he puts down the camera and gradually walks over to the others* Your Majesties, Mr. Finch, Ms. Matsuzek, Mr. Hartfield.
·Hartfield: I do hope that you have the recordings of the session with Their Highnesses.
·Laukkinen: *looks at the princesses* I… Well, you must understand that I had a lot to… digest. And, perhaps… I have, well not exactly ‘missed’, the second session.
·Hartfield: *drags out his pill box* For God’s sake, Laukkinen. You have not?
·Finch: Laukkinen, I though that I reminded you to do it!
·Laukkinen: Well, yes. Yesterday you did.
(The mane six, particularly Applejack and Pinkie, start laughing at the nearly comedical irony. Had they really come here and started so much trouble only to staring about such little things? Soon, also the to primncesses and Dr. Matuszek are stuck in the laughter, much to Finch’s and Matuszek’s annoyance)
·Finch: But it is protocol. And protocol isn’t funny.
·McIntyre: Yeah. Ha, who’s laughing now?
·Hartfield: *swallows his pills, nearly dropping them back out of his mouth after a giggle fit* This brave new world’ll be better having meds that are easier to… apply.
·Twilight: *enthusiastically* Oh but we do, Mr.Hartfield. The just aren’t always in pill form.
·Hartfield: Oh, really? What form do they come in?
·Twilight: *smiles, and shows him her horn, which becomes to shine*
·Hartfield: *quite ‘freaked out’* I’ll… think that I’ll better stay with those pebbles.
(Now everybody is laughing. The notion of such painful redundancy, in the wake of probably an entirely new era for the world, overcomes all ponies and people present.
Whether with or without new, magic-induced medical treatments, or manually regulated weather…
The real world had - finally - secured its hooks in the colour-rich soil of Equestria)
----------TO BE CONTINUED ----------