Pirates of the Mare-ibbean

   Chestnut Bay.

   A small piece of land that only covers about two acres of an island off the coast of southern Equestira. At first glance, it seems to be a few conjoined shacks lightly fortified by a palisade of sharp, upturned logs. Under its sandy crust, however, there's more to meet the eye.

   Rumors have been spread by word of mouth about the government-run facility. They circulated mainly around the hidden bars and pirate havens of Equestria, where a few golden bits could be traded for an ill-gotten gemstone, no questions asked, or a treasure map could be gambled away six times in a night. It was here, in this den of thieves and devils, where theories first spawned as to what was actually held in the belly of the bay.

   There was one haven in particular that this tale will focus on: a small, oft-crowded establishment on the very edge of a jutting peninsula on the southwest coast of the land ruled by the Celestial Monarchy. It was called the Seashore Veranda, so called because of the platform that was held on wooden stilts above the churning Mare-ibbean sea.

   Almost daily (or, rather, nightly) in the Seashore Veranda, shady, hooded and cloaked figures come and go, earning the bar quite a reputation. However, only one of these figures frequented the place - and shady she wasn't. Her coat was a frighteningly neon pink, and, although she usually wore a wide-brimmed tricorn, the mane that was visible was curled and frayed, a result of years spent in the salty air of the sea.

   This figure's reputation preceded her, and it is for that reason she didn't speak and wasn't spoken to. She came for the cider. Every night, she walked in, sat at the bar, paid for a drink, and left (often staggering). Its not like she never made a scene, oh no; she was known to start rousing songs and won multiple drinking contests. But there was more than enough a mysterious side to her; possibly because of the less-than-sane legends circulating around her and her infamous name.

   This night, though, was unlike any other night, in the respect that her attention was finally caught by the previously-trivial chatter and gossip behind her.

   An olive-green stallion with a rich Cockney accent was speaking loudly with four other colts and an aquamarine mare. "I swear, though, I wasn' there; I 'eard it from a friend-a mine. I don't fink 'ee's tellin' the truth." His voice dropped substantially. "Well, 'ee's been obsessin' over Chestnut Bay for the past few days. Finks 'ee's gonna sail righ' into the 'arbor n' take the whole lot."

Oh, this madness again. She turned and stared straight at the olive-green stallion. He accidentally caught her eye and was unable to look away. She cocked her head, her curly mane bouncing to the side. "And for 'the whole lot' of what, may I ask, would your friend risk being killed or captured by the Celestial Guard?"

   The stallion glanced around at his friends and laughed. The group laughed with him. "An' what would a nice piece of arse like yourself want with that information?"

   She laughed with the others, but they could hear the difference in her voice. There was no mirth in it, only an icy seriousness. "Well, I was just wondering what more stupid ideas a group of half-pirates like yourselves could come up with. Seriously, I've heard everything."

   His laughter stopped short. "Half-pirate, you say?" In one fluid motion, he leapt over the table and unsheathed his sword, holding it directly against the pink mare's throat. "Half-pirate, indeed," he growled.

   He was taller than her, but only just. She calmly reached a single hoof up and pushed the thick Romane blade away from her, hopping from her seat at the bar. He was secretly shocked at her pure strength. She walked around him slowly, inspecting him and his position. "Half-pirate, indeed," she muttered, and placed a back hoof on a spot on his leg, and pushed hard.

   He collapsed to his right with a gasp, and fell noisily through a wooden table, splintering it in two. She stayed where she was, and let her inexperienced adversary recover from behind her.

   With a cough and a groan, the stallion pulled himself up to the bar, locking his sword back over his hoof. He fell back to his hooves and, with a cry of effort (the only sound audible in the room by then), he lunged at the mare's back.

   She giggled. She couldn't help herself. With a smooth duck to her right, she dodged the attack and stood quickly again, flipping the hapless stallion onto the hard wooden floor with a sickening thud.

   He was out cold. His five friends stared nervously at the neon pink mare, who had just knocked the burliest member of their group unconscious. She turned her head to stare right back in their direction. "Must I repeat myself? Or does one of you remember my question?"

   The aquamarine unicorn was the first to answer. "His friend's name is Dock. He's out in the harbor. I - we don't know what his theories are."

   That was enough for the mysterious earth-pony. She nodded at them. "Much thanks. Oh, and I doubt he'd mind whether I take this" - she stomped the side of the sword, sending it flipping high into the air before she caught it cleanly in her empy scabbard - "because, as you can see, he doesn't know how to use it."

   With this, she fluffed her greatcoat, downed the remains of her mug of cider, and turned to walk out of the Seashore Veranda. But she stopped in her tracks when she heard the aquamarine mare say her name.

   "Are you... Pinkie Pie?"

   There was an unspoken surprise that rattled around the silence of the bar.

   She turned back, almost swaggering, and chuckled before speaking. "You're new here, aren't you? I'm not Pinkie Pie."

   She spun on her heels to face the door again. "I'm Captain Pinkie Pie."

----------~€~----------

   Pinkie left the bar laughing to herself aloud. Quite a scene she'd caused... but it wasn't the first and wouldn't be the last.

   Back to her task. She knew she'd heard of a stupid go-big-or-go-home plan like that before, and when they said the friend's name, her suspicions were confirmed. It was indeed her old friend Dock. Dock had been her closest friend since they were foals, foals alone in Equestria dreaming of a life on the sea.

   She lost herself momentarily in a reminiscent daydream as she made her way to her current home (and then, to the harbor). She remembered her childhood positively, not because of the hardships and hunger she'd faced or the beatings she'd witnessed (and taken), but because of the friendship she'd had with Dock. Nearing the end of their adolesence, they each swore on their own blood that each would become more successful than the other, or die trying.

   She hadn't seen Dock in years. It was about time they met up. But, the last time they met up, she was gone on quite an odyssey: almost three years' worth of travel. She touched land four times that entire trip; but she wasn't upset. More time with the sea was the best thing on Earth to her.

   In the past few months, she'd technically 'settled': she struggled against a fellow burglar when cutting her way through the thick Everfree Jungles, they'd successfully taken the golden idol when teamed up with a pegasus (a golden mare with a grayish mane), they escaped the jungle, they left her behind, they made their way back to Mainland Equestria on a small raft, the other pony tried to kill her, she fought back, they fell off the raft, they washed up on an island, and they eventually fell in love. The end.

   Pinkie chuckled. It was like her whole life just flashed before her eyes. She was quickly approaching the small cabin in which they'd made an impromptu homestead. Neither of them were there often - they were out on their own missions, leading their own lives, taking their own risks. But they met under the light of the moon every so often, and... um... resumed their relationship.

   She hoped that, maybe tonight, her lover would be waiting for her. Just to wish her off. Of course, she wasn't certain whether she would be going along with Dock's stupid quest, but... just in case.

   As she approached the cabin, she nearly squee'd with glee. There was a faint candlelight emanating from the windows.

   She galloped up the hill and slammed open the door. "Honey, I'm h-" She stopped mid-sentence. Her lover was nowhere to be seen. The only ponies currently in the cabin were two dull-colored colts, one kneeling, one standing. An open chest was in front of them.

   Pinkie giggled. She couldn't help herself. After seeing the terrified looks on their faces as they turned around, she knew what they were up to. They weren't confident, or sadistic, or official. They weren't killers, or guild members, or Guards. They were petty thieves who just picked the wrong place at the wrong time.

   She spoke quietly, enjoying the surprise in the thieves' faces. "May I ask why you two gentlecolts are in my cabin?"

   After the scuffle that ensued, the colts were kicked ungracefully out of the cabin into the cold night, sporting fresh bruises and blackened eyes. They appeared to be twins; well, not anymore. Their wounds couldn't have been identical. She grinned, and stuffed the thieve's belongings into the trunk along with hers. They tried to rob her, she robbed them. All's fair in this age.

   She laid back in the small double bed and sighed peacefully, before she remembered what she was doing. She dug through the trunk to find a quill and a piece of parchment, and grabbed some ink from the bag the thieves had graciously left on the bedpost. When she was finished with the message, she left it on the bed and walked out the door again.

   She walked down the hill and approached the harbor. There had to have been at least twelve ships there, ranging from fishing-boats to houseboats to grand galleons. But the ship she was looking for caught her eye even by the dim moonlight.

   It was mainly because of the masthead. The sleek, expertly-carved sea-pony figure bore a message that would soften anypony's heart: SAIL FREE, LOVE FREE. It was something that Pinkie herself had inspired in Dock as a filly. She smiled again, and approached the moderately-sized ship.

   It was only when she came closer that she saw the damage that had been done to the ship. The entire aft of the ship had been ripped from its moorings, leaving only a few wooden baseboards to keep the poor thing afloat. The Dragon Servant was irreparable. It would have to be retired ceremoniously.

   Pinkie would have felt sorry for Dock, if he'd been near. But he wasn't; he was off in the town, most likely, drinking or partying. Pinkie would just have to wait until sunrise or when he and his crew returned.

   It was only then that she heard a voice singing quietly to nopony in particular. "Steady as she goes, boys... steady as she goes. Make sure the wind don't blow 'er, boys, steady as she goes."

   She looked up to the macabre half-ship towering over her and saw the captian sitting alone in the now-hollow mainstow. Quietly, she climbed up the visibly battered boarding-plank. When she got closer, she began to sing along with him.

   "Steady as she goes, boys, steady as she goes..."

   "You'll cost the Devil fifteen lives, steady as she goes," Pinkie finished, sitting beside him in the gently-swaying wreckage, glistening with seawater in the blue moonlight.

   "Good to see you, Pinkie."

   "Good to see you, too, Dock. Sorry about the circumstances."

   Dock finally turned his head to look at her. She remained totally stoic as she saw the burn on her friend's face, surrounding an empty eye socket. Pinkie shook her head, eyes closed. "I really am sorry."

   Dock pointed to his face. "Sorry for this? You shoudn't be. It was my own damned stupidity that gave me this."

   "No, sorry for what I'm about to say."

   "What?"

   "We're going to Chestnut Bay."

   Dock chuckled. "Well, Pinkie, I was going to -"

   "Well, it shouldn't be a problem, then."

   "But then I got this," he said gruffly, almost angrily. He jabbed a hoof at his face again. "And in case you didn't notice, I have no ship. No crew. We were beaten, almost cruelly, by a fleet of Guards only yesterday." He looked down at his hooves, one reaching up again to touch his missing eye. "Only yesterday my brothers were alive. My crewmen, my fellow sailors, their hearts were still beating."

   Pinkie put a hoof firmly over the dark orange stallion's mouth. "No offense to you, but you really need to shut up. Stuff like this happens to pirates: we steal and run, steal and run. If ponies get killed, so be it. It's the Guards: you can't take them down without pissing off the Armada." She grinned. "But do they have the guts to take on Captain Pinkie Pie?"

   Dock sighed, biting his lower lip. Such a bold mare. No wonder they were friends. "'Captain'? I'd love to use your ship."

   "Well, my good sir, I'd give it to you, but I seem to have misplaced it at the moment. When we get one, though, I'll take revenge on the Celestial Guards for your... um... dead friends, or something, then I'll sack Chestnut Bay, grab all the jewels, and run. And that's how it works." She stood, hoisting her friend to his hooves and smiling.

   "You know, you can be quite a b-"

   "-eautiful, awesome, talented pirate? Yes. Yes, I can be."

   "Alright. So. First order of business. It's midnight. Where are we gonna bunk?"

   "In," she said, jumping off the ship and into the water.

   "What? Why-"

   "Because I freakin' said so. Now let's go find an inn." She hopped up onto the promenade and shook herself dry.

   "Oh, you said 'inn'. I thought you meant, like, Into the water! Follow me!"

   "Nope! Now c'mon down, before I get horribly depressed about recent events and you do too and we stay in the ship until it collapses on the both of us."

   "What?"

   "Ignore me. Follow me."