Dreams of the Sky

by Blackjack488

Rating: teen
Tags: Adventure, Alternate Universe, Princess Luna, Changelings, Gore, Original Character, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic
Length: 14496

When she boards a mysterious vessel, Star Chaser finds herself thrown into the middle of a war guided by a cruel puppeteer, a plot to conquer all living things, and a suicidal quest to reclaim solid ground. All she has to do now is not die. Somehow.

Star Chaser’s life is a pretty good one, all things considered. She’s happily married with a family in the works, and all she needs is four more years of military service before her engineering degree is totally paid for. She has crewmates for friends, her wife and cousins for family, and the whole United Pony Republics to live in and fight for. Which is why she’s very far from okay when a mysterious vessel seemingly unaffiliated with any of the three nations forcibly wrenches her from that life.

All these maybe-smugglers-maybe-pirates want to do is collect the Elements of Harmony and use them to bring back the ground that the Calamity stole from ponykind over a century ago. But it’s not long before she starts to realize that this simple quest is just the tip of a very big and very deadly iceberg. And with all three nations gearing up for a brutal war while seemingly guided by a shadowy puppeteer, and something brewing beneath the toxic Cloudbase that could spell a fate worse than death for all ponykind, she quickly starts to realize just what she got shoved into the middle of. And what she might have to sacrifice to make it all end happily.

This is her story.

(Rated for mature themes and topics, as well as occasional violence and severe injuries.)
(On hiatus for the time being, until I can get myself to write less than 10 stories at once. xD)

Published 2014-07-07 22:50:04 UTC
Last updated 2014-08-06 22:42:17 UTC

1: Awaken

BRRRRRRRRRRRINNNNN-SMACK!

I let the blessed silence sink in for a few brief moments, before getting myself moving with a long, loud groan.

Two years.

Two years, I’d been working on a military schedule.

And I still wasn’t a morning pony.

I laid still for a few minutes, doing my absolute best to recapture the blissfully sweet sensation of sleep on the painfully inflexible mattress. Letting the faint and familiar hum of the twin Crystalline Engines flick in and out of harmony, like a mechanical heartbeat. It was beyond comforting, and before long I found myself slowly being lulled back into the deep, dark recesses of—

Thunk thunk thunk! “Morning, Sunshine!”

I growled angrily at the source of the voice, then slid open the little doorway that separated my bed from the common room. I blinked instinctively at the sudden brightness, but managed to pull off my best lethal glare at the source of all my troubles.

“How…by all the princesses…are you so damn cheerful?”

She smiled back at me, white teeth piercing through her sandy brown coat, with her frazzled red mane framing the hideously happy pony. “Because it’s the morning! Dawn of a new day, full of opportunity and work and—“

“If I have any say in it,” I unsuccessfully stifled a yawn, “then this day will also be full of sleeping.”

“Oh, don’t say that. Some grub and face time in the Engine Rooms, and you’ll be bouncing off the walls! Guarantee it.” She stood back up, probably to grab her things from the bunk above me. “Also, if you don’t show your face in Engineering, then you’ll be facing a demotion. And I don’t think you wanna drop back into Seamare, am I right?”

I hissed at her angrily. Sure, she was right. But that didn’t mean I had to appreciate the fact.

I rolled onto my stomach and stretched, feeling a little pop in a few of my vertebrae. Then a few more pops as I shuffled my joints a bit to get blood flowing again. Once all that was said and done, I grabbed my toothbrush and toothpaste tube in my mouth and squirmed out of the bunk to wander towards the head.

Almost twenty other ponies filled the hallway-esque room in various states of their morning routine; a few were sliding out of the three-high bunks lining the sides of the room, while others had already groomed and were busily buttoning up their uniforms. Most simply nodded at me as I shuffled around them, while the rare few actually smiled or wished me “good morning.” I grimaced. Honestly, how could anypony be so pleasant at this time of day?

I slipped into the Head we all shared and found an empty sink, dropping off my brush and paste before finding a stall to relieve myself in. Within a few minutes, I was still bedraggled and only a little less tired (which kind of proved Sunspots right. Not that I’d ever admit it), not to mention my mouth tasted kind of like imitation broccoli, but at least my teeth were clean. Satisfied, I slinked back to my bunk and pulled open the drawer next to the head of it, carefully resetting my alarm and setting it back above my pillow before extracting a hairbrush from the “dresser” drawer.

“Sooooo……” Sunspots’ smiling face leaned down toward mine from her perch in her bunk, the one above mine. “What’s the plan, Starflank?”

I couldn’t help but groan at the old nickname as I clipped the brush onto my hoof. “Do you ever plan on dropping that nickname?”

“Nnnope!”

I started passing the brush through my frazzled mane, watching as the mess of black and white on my neck resolved itself into a short black mane striped here and there with white streaks. “I figured as much. Besides, how could I have a plan for today? I haven’t seen the schedule yet.”

“I meant whether you’re gonna be eating breakfast with us, or if you’re just gonna disappear again.”

“I didn’t disappear! I went back to bed! I had fourth watch and I was tired, okay?”

She just shook her head, then deftly jumped onto the floor next to me with the loud clunk! of hooves on metal. “Nice to know you haven’t changed. You gonna fall asleep in class again, too?”

“Ugh. I swear, do that once, and you never live it down.” Satisfied that my mane wasn’t going to get any less unkempt, I pulled off a little contortion to get at my tail. Which I just knew was gonna take forever, since it was longer than my mane and naturally…twisty…

After a few moments of grunting and swearing that I would rip my tail off and drop it into Tartarus, Sunspots finally just sighed and muttered, “Do you need any help with that?”

“N-No!” I growled through the pain of the brush catching on a tangle. “I…got it…OW, sonuva…”

“Come on, Star. I kinda wanna get to breakfast before it’s too late, and I don’t want to say that I’m not eating until dinner because my friend's tail was being stubborn. So why don’t I handle the brush and you can get your uniform on. ‘Kay?”

I was about to tell her to go ahead without me, before my stomach growled at me in a big long speech about how it’d rather not miss breakfast either.

With a barely-audible grumble about how it’s seriously just the brush, and if it weren’t for that, I’d’ve be done hours ago, I reluctantly handed the brush over to Sunspots. She smiled, clipped it onto her hoof, and proceeded to attack my tail with the gusto of any brave warrior taking down a mighty beast.

I started unfolding my uniform, but not before shooting a quick, “OW! Would you try to be more careful!”

“Sorry! It’s just…I almost…”

I rolled my eyes as I slipped on the grey-and-gold undershirt. “Now you know how I feel.”

“Hey, at least we’re making this whole process a little quicker, right?”

“I guess…” We fell into silence as I fumbled with the snaps, pressing each one into place with a little snip. Once the undershirt was done, I pulled on my blood-red uniform jacket, pressing its gold buttons into place after only a few seconds of struggling and swearing.

‘At least this uniform is pretty straightforward,’ I couldn’t help but think. ‘I can only imagine how awful mornings must be in the Mail Corps. All those coats and scarves and buckles and belts…’

“By the way, Star,” Spots started up nervously, “is…something going on I should know about?”

“Hm? How do you mean?”

“Well…” she went to rub her hoof on the back of her head, only to realize that my brush was still attached to it. She quickly and silently replaced the grooming instrument into my drawer before going back to shuffling her hooves. “You’ve been talking in your sleep lately, and some of the things you’ve been saying have been…kinda freaky…”

“Freaky how?” I finished off the buttons of my jacket, before reaching into the drawer, pulling out a folded picture, and slipping it into my barrel pocket. With a quick flourish of putting my hat on my head, I snapped my drawer shut with one flick of a navy-blue hoof and started walking towards the mess hall. The concept that I was trying to escape this conversation wasn’t relevant in the slightest.

Sunspots immediately started trotting after me, looking somehow more nervous than before. She fiddled with her own red-and-gold uniform jacket for a few seconds, then finally grumbled, “…nevermind. I…guess it’s not really that important.”

I breathed a tiny sigh of relief. The last thing I wanted to do was explain to one of my best friends why I hadn’t been sleeping well lately.

We walked in silence for the rest of the trip, with the clop-clop of our hooves (and those of the various ponies we passed) on the metal walkways from bulkhead to bulkhead being the only sound between us. Which is why, for the first time in a while, we were able to hear the mess hall long before we trotted through the door.

The usual throng of ponies in all the colors of the rainbow, each donning the standard red,-white,-and-gold Republican Naval uniform, had since moved out of the ration line and into the array of rectangular tables. They were all chatting away, raucous and bombastic now that the usual veneer of military professionalism no longer applied. But there was one thing they all had with them that made my stomach howl with anticipation.

“Hey there, Garion!” Sunspots beat me to the punch, both in her conversation with the dark-grey griffin behind the counter, as well as placing herself in line for food. “Cooking fresh, I see. Any special occasion?”

He grinned, the expression looking foreign but not unwelcome on his birdlike beak, and his little red eyes sparkled in a way that perfectly complimented the traces of white and red in his feathers. “Vhy, today ees mah birthday! And I vould expect nozing less than ze best to be prepared on such a spezial occashion!” Each strangely-accented syllable was accompanied by much gesticulation as he assembled a food tray for Sunspots.

“Well, happy birthday!”

“I hope the Captain’s okay with fresh rations. I’d hate it if he picked today of all days to clamp down.”

Sunspots shot me a little warning look, but Garion literally waved off the comment. “Eet was not zo hard to convince ‘eem once I told ‘eem that ‘ees food comes from ze same kitchen. Besides, ‘ee is nozing if not understanding.”

“True. Just covering all the bases, as it were.”

He passed us two trays laden with fresh daisy-spinach salads, oatmeal bowls, and glasses of apple juice. My stomach tried to make itself known yet again, but I covered it up with a little fake coughing.

“Well, happy birthday again!”

“Have a great day!”

“You too, Meez Spots and Meez Chasair!” I winced slightly at the mispronunciation of my name, but smiled and waved back anyway.

We weaved down the center aisle to our regular spot: against the wall, third from the back, and right up alongside the waving form of my oldest military friend.

“Hey! Just the mares I wanted to see!”

“Awww, you missed us that bad? Does it really get that lonely in the Stallions’ bunks?”

I slid into place across from the red-coated veteran, whilst Spots scooted up next to him with a bizzarely flirtatious look. She did know fraternization is disallowed, right?

“Nah. I just wanted to let you know your shifts.”

“Oh. Well, damn, Stone. Here I was offering a little company.”

“You…do know fraternization isn’t okay, right?” Legitimate confusion crept into my voice. I honestly couldn’t tell if she’s joking or not.

She gave me a sly grin in return. “Who’s to say anyone has to know?”

“Spots, we sleep twenty to a room. I think somepony’d notice.” Stone’s voice was serious, but he’s smiling with a little twinkle in his fiery-orange eyes.

Ohhhhkay…they’re just joking.

Spots shrugged. “Fine, fine, I know when I’m not wanted.”

“Anyways, what’d we get for shifts?”

He snorts slightly into his apple juice, like he tried to say something while forgetting his muzzle was buried in a glass. After a few seconds of recovery, he starts, “Right. Sorry, nearly forgot. Somepony was being distracting.” He elbowed Spots, and she just laughed through her sandwich. “Anyway, Spots, you got sixth watch in the comms room. Star, you and I are third watch in observation.”

“Aww, sweet! Comms room again!” “Third watch! Seriously!?”

Stone burst out laughing. “AHAHA! How’d I just know that was comin’!?”

“Because it’s third watch! And the day after I got fourth watch!? This isn’t fair!”

They just snicker at my misfortune. Much to my clearly-displayed dismay.

“Ugh. Fine. That’s it. As soon as I’m done here, I’m talking to the captain.”

Stone stifled his laughter enough to mutter, “you are so damn predictable…”

Spots was shaking her head, muzzle against one fetlock to make the laughing disappear. “Not sure that’s such a good idea, Star. He’s been in kind of a foul mood lately.”

“Can’t be that bad. He let Garion cook fresh food, after all.”

“Well…’esh noth…” She held up a hoof as she finished chewing, then resumed talking. “He’s not upset with the crew per-say, but I wouldn’t press too hard. When I was working my comms room shift yesterday, we got a really weird order, and I think it set him in a bad mood.”

“What was the order?” Stone asked, though I already had a sneaking suspicion. The engines’d been running a little harder than usual lately.

Spots shook her head. “Change in patrol routes. Apparently, our normal route wasn’t good enough for Regional Command.”

“The hay? Wouldn’t we be steppin’ on somepony’s hooves?”

“Dunno. I heard from a friend of mine, though,” she turned sharply to both of us, “and you didn’t hear this from me, but I hear the Dark Star’s been relocated back to New Canterlot, and we’re filling in their patrol until somepony else gets here.”

“But…why? That doesn’t make sense. Why not just have a replacement ready to go like normal?”

“Some big, secret thing that came up at last minute. That’s what the grapevine’s been saying, anyways. Honestly, I think they’re just cutting back on border patrols.”

“Maybe.”

“Welp,” Stone dropped his spoon onto his tray with a little clang and started standing up, “I think I’m gonna bugger off before you ponies get charged with somethin’. Just remember to show some face time in Engineerin’, Star. I’d hate to see yeh get demoted.”

“Ugh, fine, I’ll make an appearance.” It sounded begrudging, but we share a laugh. After all, he knew better than I did that I loved it down there. Even if Cam was a total mule.

“Yeah, on that note, I’d better get rolling too.” After a few quick goodbyes, I shuffled out of my seat and over to the trash cans. On my way, I slipped by the schedule to confirm the worst.

It was, indeed, true. Third Watch in upper-fore Observation. But at least Stone had upper-aft on the same shift, so that might take the edge off.

Still might be worth talking to the captain over. And while I hated bugging him about little things like this, he had said his doors were open. So…worth a shot.

The walk over was a calm one, with the fourth shift almost done with work in Public Stations while the rest of us were finishing off breakfast. That’s not to say there were more than a few Specialized Stations being ponied, but it was still pretty much a skeleton crew at this point.

So I was surprised when, walking past Medical, somepony flagged me down with a wave and a smile. I damn near kept walking when I saw who it was, but I had the common courtesy not to commit a faux-pas like that.

“”

I smiled at the zebra who had trotted over to me. Inyanga and I had become pretty fast friends since I came aboard the Philomena, and the fact that I knew Zebrican certainly didn’t hurt. That didn’t change the fact that he was getting on my nerves right now, but I tried not to let it show. As I glanced him over quickly, I realized that he looked pretty stressed-out. Between the bags under his eyes and the way his striped body seemed to sag, it definitely looked like dealing with the fallout from that rogue storm last week was taking its toll on the poor stallion. But he didn’t seem any less pleased to see me, so I answered his question with as much sincerety as I could.

“<Not much better, though it’s still nice to get a decent sleep. How are you doing?”

He paused for a moment, pondering his response, before finally saying, “”

‘Not your best rhyme, though that's a tricky one to make work.’ “”

“”

“”

“”

“”

“”

“” I awkwardly shuffled the way I’d been going.

He laughs and waves. “”

“Augh! That was one time!” I called after his chuckling form, switching back to Equestrian in my frustration. Sure, he may have just been finishing the couplet, but I could bet he was laughing his little caduceus-esque-Glyph-Mark off over that one.

“Kwenda kumeza kadhaa paundi ya Poison Joke,” I growled under my breath as I walked away. Honestly, him and Spots both giving me crap for one-time things. Falling asleep in one class once did not make me a narcaleptic, and I’d only been in that bar because the Swingin’ Sisters were doing a show there. But the way these two went on about my life, you’d think I was an alcoholic who snoozed all the way through boot. Which was obviously false, since the Republic didn’t allow alcoholics or narcaleptics into the Navy. But ponies loved their rumors, which meant I was usually left silently grumbling about said rumors. Just like I was when I walked onto the bridge that day.

The bridge was actually a lot less spacious than ponies tend to think. It just looked open because you had to go through three back-to-back bulkheads to get to it, and the entire front wall was coated in thick, shuttered windows, beyond which was sky that’s blue and clear in every direction but down (and starboard, but that's specific to this area). At the very back of the room was the captain’s chair, with a number of Communication Crystals linked throughout the ship arrayed in front of it. In front of that was the helm, with the throttle and all manner of readouts and dials arranged around it (certainly, it made sense to somepony, but not to me). And on either side, workspaces crammed with machinery, readouts, and other devices, were the Communication, Navigation, Gunnery, and Engineering Officers. All six places were filled today, just as they always were at some point every day the ship wasn’t in port.

And sitting in the Captain’s Chair was just the stallion I wanted to see.

“Captain?” I asked meekly, practically slamming my hoof against my head when I realized I’d forgotten to salute. “If you have the time, I’d like to talk to you about something.”

He turned slightly in his chair to get a better look at me with those emerald-green eyes of his, before saluting back and replying in that firm-yet-understanding voice, “At ease, Ms. Chaser. What was it you wanted to talk about?”

I brought my hoof down, but kept standing at attention. “The schedule, sir. This is the third time this week I’ve had a late-night shift, and it’s not even Friday. It’s been causing a lot of problems, sir, and I felt it prudent to let you know.”

He nodded his light-grey head as I talked, dark-green mane bobbing as he did. Finally, he just said, “Then you’ll be happy to know you’re on fifth and sixth watch the next few days. Thank you for the concern, Ms. Chaser.”

I nodded, letting a small smile slip onto my face. “Thank you, sir.”

He smiled back slightly, turning back in his chair. I turned to leave, when something nagged at the back of my mind.

“Sir?” I asked, turning back as he did the same. “Permission to speak freely, sir?”

His gaze turned curious as he turned his chair a little more. “Granted.”

“Well...I’ve been catching wind of a rumor that we’re taking double patrol routes because the Dark Star’s been called back to New Canterlot.”

I caught his face turn slightly harsh as I said it, though he kept the frustration out of his voice. “Who told you that?”

“Just something I overheard in the Cafeteria.”

“Well, if that’s the case, then I see no point in affirming or denying it.”

“Understood, sir, but that’s not why I’m asking.” Curiosity returned into his face, but he didn’t ask anything, so I kept going. “If the Admirals are pulling ships from border patrol, that means something big is going on. And if they’re pulling from the Imperial Border, then it’s going on in the Magistrate. Which means there’s gonna be something big, probably in the cities close to there, like Gem City or New Hoofington.”

Once I brought up Gem City, understanding flashed across his face. “You have family in Gem City, don’t you, Ms. Chaser?”

I tried my very hardest not to sound nervous. “Yes sir, I do.”

He nodded, then smiled comfortingly at me. It was a genuine expression, that took up his whole face while never having grown in size. “No reason to get worried. If we’re gearing up, then we know what’s coming. Knowing them, they’ll either run after Gem City or we’ll aim for Crystal Falls. Either way, we’ll be ready for it.”

I took that in, the logic doing little to assuade the gnawing fear. Still, it was something. “Understood. Thank you, sir.”

He nodded, then affirmed, “Carry on,” before turning back to face the bridge. I almost saluted, before realizing he wouldn’t notice anyways and just walking out.

I mulled over his words on the walk down to the Engineering Office. He did have a point. The simple fact that we were gathering up whoever in the 2nd Fleet we could spare meant that we knew what was coming. But even then...I couldn’t help but shiver slightly at the thought of what would happen if Gem City did get hit. Mels would be on tour for the next couple weeks, and she always brought Snow Shine with her, so they’d be fine. Thank the stars for that one. Tufani and Jua were wild cards, but if the fleet was gearing up, odds were they’d be doing the same. But...Auntie Oak...Auntie ‘Thaza...

Looks like tonight would be another nightmare-ridden funfest. Maybe this time I’d actually break down and try Sleeping Meds.

...actually, no. That's not happening. Ever.

Blessedly, it was a short walk from the Bridge to the Engineering Office. Once I had an assignment, I could throw myself into my work rather than think about the future.

I snapped a salute to my CO as I walked in through his door, mentally smothering the urge to strangle him instead. “Petty Officer 3rd Class Star Chaser, reporting for duty.”

Cam Shaft looked up at me over his reports and sneered, “Why yes, it appears you are. And on time, for once. Improvement.” Dismissively, he turned back to his reports, adding, “The Reactor has a loose panel somewhere in there. You’re on the crew to fix it up and run diagnostics after. Report in with Spark Shooter.”

“Yes sir,” I replied, turning and leaving as quickly as I could. Blegh, Reactor Core repair. That meant bulky rubber suits and working rivets in the middle of what basically amounted to a controlled lightning storm. Certainly not the glamorous life I pictured when I said I wanted to be an Engineer.

“Four more years,” I sighed to myself, under my breath to keep anypony else from overhearing. “Four more years, then I’ll be getting an Engineering degree of my own to wave around, courtesy of the Republican Government.”

I smiled inwardly at the thought, and of the look on Cam Shaft’s little orange face when he had to sign it. “We’ll see who’s laughing then,” I muttered to myself.

‘Provided you can stay awake tonight,’ my brain reminded me.

2: Ambuscade

My eyes blurred slightly as I looked over the night sky. Slowly but surely, I felt my head start to droop and-

“Star! Come on, you airhead, wake up!”

I jerked back to wakefulness, the world snapping back into focus. Frantically, I took a few glances around to make sure I wasn’t being warned of danger, before settling back slightly into my perch.

I tapped the comm crystal linked to the Upper-aft observation bubble, and it lit up in response. “Thanks for the save, Stone,” I muttered into it.

It dimmed as I removed my hoof, before re-lighting and emitting the bass voice of my friend. “Yeah, well, I’m just trying to make sure you keep your damn job.”

“Appreciate it.”

There was a brief moment of silence, which I took to stare out at the night sky. The night was extremely far from clear. Clouds the size of battleships floated aimlessly in all directions, and the Stormwall sat ominously not thirty miles away, stretching to the horizon in both directions and rising out of the Cloudbase like one of those mountain ranges they tell stories about. But between the ominous dark clouds above shone hundreds of stars, with a bright silver moon among them to shine down on the world.

Looking down, I could see the edge of the top deck of the Philomena; a steel oblong floor that bore my observation bubble at one end and Blazing Stone’s at the other, decorated by an airstrip along the middle and six cannon turrets down either side. It was rimmed with the very top edge with the thick reinforced-steel plates that made up the bulk of her hull. Reverberating around the mighty vessel from deep within her core, I could feel the familiar bass throb of her Crystalline Constructs keeping the craft aloft and running. It was soothing, relaxing, and I could already feel myself starting to curl up, my eyelids growing heavier an-

“Dammit, Star! Would you at least try to stay awake!?”

I growled in response, slapping more than tapping the communication crystal. “I am trying! Geez.”

“Uh huh. sure. What’s going on, Star?”

“I’m fine. Buzz off.”

“Come on, Star. I know you. You’ve never fallen asleep on a shift.”

“Hey Stone?”

“Yeah?”

“Do me a favor and focus on your job.”

The line went dead for several seconds, giving me plenty of time to realize exactly what I’d just said.

I tapped the crystal lightly. “I’m sorry. You didn’t deserve that.”

The line was silent a few seconds more, each one weighing heavier on my conscience. Finally, the crystal re-lit.

“One condition.”

“Sure.”

“Answer the damn question.”

I was silent for a long moment, before finally tapping the crystal to send a nearly-whispered response. “The nightmares started up again.”

“Oh. Alright, that’s fair.”

“So…are we good?”

“Yeah. Apology accepted. But seriously, if the nightmares are coming back, you should talk to the doc.”

“I’m pretty sure it’ll get better once you-know-where is behind us.”

“Yeah, but until then, you’re a compromised crewmare who’s falling asleep on her watch. I know you don’t like sleeping meds, but just bite the bit this time, okay?”

I mulled on that thought for a moment, fiddling nervously with my uniform. He was right, of course. If I fell asleep on my watch, that wouldn’t do anypony any good. But…every time I considered that option...all I could see was lightning and panicked screams…

I shook that train of thought away with physical force, before responding. “I…guess you’re right. I’ll talk to the doc once my watch is over. No promises, though.”

“Yah-huh. Just make sure you stay awake, or I will personally come over there and beat that cutie mark off your flank, ya hear?”

I couldn’t help but giggle. “I’d like to see you try.”

“Oh yeah? How about tomorrow afternoon in the Gym? You, me, no weapons, no timer.”

“If you can find a ref. I’m gonna need an audience in case you cheat.”

“Me? Cheat? Wouldn’t dream of it.”

“Uh huh. Just like you ‘didn’t dream of it’ during our last little sparring match?”

“You’re just jealous that I won.”

“Hey, do you see—“

“Besides, there was nothing in the rules about using herbal strength enhancers. I was just taking advantage of a very di—“

“Dammit, Stone, shut up for a second!” I used the newfound silence to focus on a nearby cloud. It was just a little smaller than the rest, and really oddly shaped. In fact, it almost looked like…

“Stone, can you confirm something for me? Looks like a cloud, but it’s shaped all wrong. It’s at...357 and 0.” There was a long pause. “See it?”

“Barely.”

“Thoughts?”

“That’s not a cloud. I can’t say for sure, bu—“

“Wait!” Recognition slammed into place in my brain, and I brought my hoof down onto a different communication crystal in front of me. “Captain, this is Star Chaser. I’m seeing what looks like a Magistrate Frigate at 357 and 0, about ten miles out. Can you confirm?”

There’s a small gap in time between my sent message and the one I got back. In the meantime, I only got more clues. The thin shapes of masts for sails (which were also decorated with unusual dots on them). The sleek, aerodynamic silhouette, with no visible ram or guns. The cylindrical, toxin-spraying thing those Magistrate ponies called an engine. All in all, once I knew what to look for, it all clicked into place in my sleep-addled brain.

The crystal linked with the Bridge lit up again, filling my little bubble with the captains’ voice. “Confirmed, Star Chaser. We see it. Nice work. Keep an eye on it, make sure they don’t start up with their usual tricks.”

My heart swelled at the praise, while my brain held onto logic. “Roger wilco, Captain.” Taking my hoof off the crystal, I turned my hawk-like gaze to the slowly-drifting vessel. It hadn’t changed any as far as I could see, but I could be wrong. The Magistrate were well-known for their bedeviling Magic tricks.

But the closer I looked at this mysterious craft, the more unusual its design became. It was too small to carry a decently-sized crew. That forecastle left no room for an airstrip. The blade-like rudders and stabilizers that typically decorated Magistrate ships were missing here, instead replaced with more fin-like protrusions near the back. And strangest of all was its angle. It looked like it was coming from the Stormwall, but it looked absolutely nothing like an Imperial ship. Maybe it was experimental?

I tapped the comm crystal and relayed my observations to the bridge. Only moments later, the brilliant spotlights on either side of the bridge cut brilliant white swaths out of the dark landscape, both turning to focus on the mystery vessel. And as they did, I couldn’t help but suck in a quick gasp.

The ship was like nothing I’d ever seen. Where most ships these days were like aerial tanks, this one looked sleek and powerful, like some kind of osprey in warship form. It was shaped like an old Magistrate vessel, but the similarities ended there. The wooden paneling had been reinforced with a thick frame made from some metal I couldn't distinguish from plain-old Iron. Like most Magistrate ships, it had a keel instead of a flat bottom, but this one was decorated with wicked-looking blades. The masts along its deck were incredibly small, barely ten feet tall, with crossbars decorated with incredibly unusual cone-looking things. Larger masts with sails attached, however, were folded up against her sides like wings. The bottom half was barely a half the width of the rest of the ship, the excess bulges shielding the engine and bearing the four cannons per side that made up her (pathetic) armament. But even with all that, the thing that stood out to me the most…that tore the breath from my lungs and made me realize how deep we’d just stepped in it…was the winged sword surrounded by stars that emblazoned her side.

The emblem of the Pegasus Imperium.

I froze in terror as the Philomena roared to life beneath me. I’d never had to fight pegasi before. That was the nice thing about patrolling the Imperial Border: the Imperium never really did anything these days. And yet, here I was, facing down an Imperial warship that, despite being smaller than the Philomena, was crewed by ponies who could fly, walk on clouds, and were probably armed with lightning bolts against a metal ship. Not to mention its unusual nature. Who knew what tricks this thing had up its sleeve? It had a Crystalline Accelerator for propulsion, so it undoubtedly had the speed of Magistrate ships. If it had the agility supposedly attributed to the Imperials…

I shuddered involuntarily as the Philomena’s propellers spun up and got us slowly moving with a gentle gee force. Below me, I could faintly hear the alarms going off, signaling everypony to battle stations.

“ATTENTION, IMPERIAL VESSEL!” the Captain’s voice, amplified by the bullhorn, rang out across the sky. “THIS IS THE R-N-V PHILOMENA! WE WILL APPROACH AND BOARD YOUR SHIP TO NEGOTIATE YOUR IMMEDIATE RETURN TO IMPERIAL AIRSPACE! TAKE ANY ACTION, AND YOU WILL BE SHOT DOWN!”

With that ultimatum, the propellers kicked into high gear, accelerating the titanic warship to full speed and turning it to face the mystery craft.

There were a few seconds where the new ship did nothing but float there, obeying our orders as we approached. Then, it lurched forward and began accelerating away, a stream of sickly-green clouds spewing from their engines.

I knew what was coming next, and immediately covered my ears.

All twelve cannon turrets lining the Philomena’s port side swiveled to face the fleeing ship, firing at will with a magnificent BA-BOOOM!

Most of the explosive-propelled steel slugs missed. The ship was small enough and fast enough that it was expected. But two hit home. One bounced harmlessly off the metal keel (!!!), but the other…

“Captain, Star Chaser. Confirmation of one hit to lower decks, maybe even the engine room given how it’s shuddering like that.”

The mystery ship was, indeed, moving a little erratically as it turned to dive for cover behind a nearby cloud. There was a slight rumbling in the floor as I felt the cannons reload, then swivel to take aim (at the behest of the lower observation bubbles, since it had dived slightly in its little escapade).

I covered my ears just as the ship disappeared behind the cloud. And when it should have come out the other side…

…nothing.

Like the ship had vanished into thin air.

BOOM! A single cannon lobbed a deafening shot into the middle of the small cumulus, tearing a nice big hole in it. There was nothing on the other side.

I tapped the comm crystal for the bridge. “Captain, there’s no sign of them. I think they’re using a cloaking device.” Another point that this ship was a Magistrate Craft. A high-end one, no less.

“Roger that. Keep your eyes peeled. We can’t afford to lose them.”

“Yes sir.” I switched to the other crystal. “Stone, you hear all that?”

“Loud and clear, Star. You watch out the front, I’ll look out the back, okay?”

I stared around to the dozens of clouds it could use as cover, particularly the one we’d pulled up more or less alongside. “What in Tartarus are we even looking for?”

“Exhaust trails, you dingus. They can’t cloak those. Or a really shiny patch of air. Either one.”

I swallowed the veteran Watcher’s advice as best I could whilst still scouring the skies. “Got it. Thanks.”

I peeled my eyes as best I could on the surrounding skyscape.

One second passed…

And another…

There-wait…no, that’s just a cloud.

Another second…

My heart was in my throat.

I held my breath as much as I could.

Every muscle coiled in tension.

Another second…

…and another…

…and another…

A tiny flash of motion caught my eye…

Green! Green clouds!

My hoof nearly broke the comm crystal. “CAPTAIN! 270 and 1! Behind the cloud!”

I was just hearing the turrets start to swivel when the cloud alongside us tore in half, revealing the mystery ship in all its terrible glory as it rocketed towards our amidships.

Every comm crystal linked to the bridge suddenly lit up and screamed, “ALL HANDS, BRACE FOR IMPAC-“ CRASH!

The mystery ship sank her keelblades deep into the Philomena’s top deck, ripping through steel as easily as a knife through butter. Eventually, it ground itself down to a halt right in the middle of the deck, turning its cannons toward—

I let out a crazed scream and dove for the ladder out of the Observation Bubble.

BANG! C-CRASH! A powder-propelled shell shredded the room I’d been in only moments before, along with a sizable portion of the surrounding hull.

I was thrown hard against the side of the ladder tube, my hooves torn from the rungs and turning my descent into a freefall. It wasn’t a long one, thank Celestia, but I felt a distinct crack! and a searing rush of pain that signified something breaking. And to top it all off, some of the rubble from the blast found its way down the chute and slammed into my sideways form, eliciting a few more screams of pain than I thought I had in me.

I briefly felt the world around me swim and drift somewhat, before the Philomena’s shuddering brought me back to the world. Then there was a sudden jerk downwards as we tore ourselves free from the mysterious warship.

The ringing in my ears slowly began to subside. I tried to move, only to find that one of my hindlegs was broken. Great.

BA-BA-BANG! The rippling percussion of cannonfire tore through my eardrums, and I nearly began crying as I pressed my hooves as hard as I could against my ears, the rattling of cracking steel sending flurries of pain through my broken limb.

‘Those are powder cannons!’ my brain screamed at me. ‘Stars above, those are way more powerful than anything the UPR has! Just who in Celestia’s name are these ponies!?’

The Philomena bucked and turned under me, trying to get a fix on the much more nimble airship. Though how they could aim without any observation bubbles with a line of si—

My heart dropped.

They couldn’t. Even if the bridge had a line-of-sight, they couldn’t get an accurate heading and angle. And with all the confusion, the captain might not even know the Observation Bubbles were down. Oh, those crafty little Proto-Discords…

I started pulling myself to my hooves, trying my best to limp over the debris on only three limbs. The Captain needed to know. Otherwise we’d be flying blind. Maybe if we could get above them, we’d have a chance. All I needed to do was find a comm crystal linked to the bridge, and if memory served me right, there was one just one floor down.

I stumbled, falling flat on my face, breaths coming quicker as another burst of gunfire tore into the Philomena’s steel hide. Her engines were chugging and throbbing harder than I’d ever heard before. I could almost hear her screaming with pain and protest.

I wasn’t scared. The UPR designed ships to be damn tough, and the Philomena was no exception. She could take the punishment.

I silently made a prayer I wouldn’t be proven wrong as another volley of cannonfire pulled a long, pained groan from the depths of the ship.

I pulled myself back to my hooves, struggling and stumbling and feeling really lightheaded. My breaths came hard and fast, which did little to help the bruises on my side.

Suddenly, my vision doubled and blurred, and I collapsed onto the ground, hyperventilating the whole time.

I tried to reach the crystal attached to the collar portion of my uniform, but my legs had stopped responding. I could swear these frantic breaths were my last ones, as my blurred vision filled with red and…

Oxygen filled my lungs the instant the red blob pressed a hoof against my collar. I gulped in a deep breath, coughing hard, and watching the world return around me.

“I swear,” that familiar voice muttered, shaking his returning-to-focus head. “First you marry a pegasus, then you try to breathe like one. What’s next? Trying your hoof at flight?”

I took a few deep breaths, confirming my lungs still worked, before moving my hoof to replace his on my collar. “Nice to see you too, Stone. Appreciate the save.”

“Yah-huh. And one of these days, I’m gonna give you some nice long lessons on how to keep your own damn flank alive.”

I struggled back to my hooves, using him for support. “Then you’d –cough- put yourself outta the job.”

He smiled briefly, his orange eyes glittering from his dark maroon coat. He had one hoof planted firmly on the collar of his uniform, standing and walking on only three. He caught sight of my broken leg, and his cocky grin turned into concern. Then, wordlessly, he laid down on the ground and gestured for me to hop on board.

I took the gesture without question as another shell shook the ship around us, reminding me of my quest.

“The Bridge…we need to tell the Captain about—“

“Already told him, right before I ran over here to save your sorry flank.” I was hit with a faceful of close-cropped grey mane as the other Earth Pony stood to his full height.

“Gee, now I feel kinda useless.”

“Well, once we get that leg in a cast, you can hop into a Mini and feel a little less so. How’s that?”

“Sounds good to me.”

There was a sudden rush of air as Stone hauled open the bulkhead door, the pressurized air inside blasting out at us in a sudden gust of artificial wind. Stone had to fight more than a little to get us through, sealing the bulkhead behind us with a sharp hiss. Both of us took our hooves off our collars as the air around us re-pressurized.

“I’ve got it from here,” I muttered into Stone’s ear. He nodded wordlessly and squatted down for me to disembark.

“ATTENTION ALL HANDS!” The Captain hollered through the linked crystals, “ABANDON SHIP! MOVE TO THE SECONDARY VESSEL AND PREPARE FOR EVACUATION IN FIVE. IF YOU ARE NOT THERE, YOU WILL BE LEFT BEHIND!”

Stone and I shared a look, immediately registering this change in plans before starting our furious sprint to the lower decks. Well, his furious sprint. I simply hobbled along on three legs, flailing slightly like some kind of madmare.

With a painful squeal and the powerful shuddering of the Philomena beneath my hooves, I immediately realized they’d attached their ship to ours. Which meant we could probably expect a boarding party soon.

Which meant we probably needed weapons. Sooner rather than later.

“Stone!” He stopped, already lowering himself to the ground as we approached the intersection. “No, Stone! I’m thinking we should grab some weapons!”

“What!? Why? The ship’s being evacuated an’ you wanna look for a gun?”

“They’re clipping themselves to us, which means there’ll be a boarding party.”

“We have three frickin’ minutes!”

“This’ll take thirty seconds, tops.”

“No way in—“ Whatever he was about to say was interrupted as we heard a shout from behind us. Taking a lookin that direction, I quickly spotted a pegasus stallion, light-blue with a messy black mane. He had a thick white-ish scar running along his whole left side, following the contours of his body as it ran from his cheek to his hindhoof, making him look positively wicked. It even seemed to run over his battlesaddle, as one gun-mount was melted into twisted slag. The other side was mounted with a weaponized Accelerator, and was quickly turning to point at us as he followed up the shout with what was likely going to be bullets.

“RUN!” Stone shouted. Not like he needed to. I was already moving.

VRRRNNNNNNNNNNN! Within seconds, a veritable storm of bullets was shooting over and around our shoulders and through our tails as we quickly turned a corner for cover.

“Guns it is.”

“Glad you finally came to your senses.”

As we ducked for the staircase leading down, the turn proved too much for my single hindleg, and I flopped over, rolling to a halt less than a few hoof-lengths from the stairwell. I was just in time to see the ominous-looking pegasus round the corner, clamp his teeth around the trigger-bit, take aim, and…

…nothing…

A puzzled look crossed his face, and he turned to hit his gun a few times. As if that’d help.

Stone took the opportunity to show off his perfect timing, as he reappeared in the stairwell with a pistol in both mouth and hoof. He was just taking aim as the pegasus let out a yelp and fled back into cover.

Bang bang bang! All three shots missed, but that was typical for stone. For a pony with a pair of binoculars on his flank, you think he’d be a better shot.

He took the little lull in the fight to help me to my hooves and shove the pistol in my mouth. My leg was seriously starting to sting, but I took out my pain on the trigger bit, clamping down much harder than what the safety demanded.

“You okay?” he asked as we ran for the stairwell, bullets lighting up the hallway behind us.

I just nodded. While I was in quite a bit of pain, I wasn’t dying, and that was what he meant after all. That wasn’t to say I wasn’t giving him flak about it later.

VRNNNNN! Bullets sparked on the ceiling just above our heads. Geez, when did everypony become such terrible shots? Not that I was complaining, but it was weird.

“EVACUATION IN ONE MINUTE! GET HERE NOW, EVERYPONY!”

There! Stone turned off our landing, and I took the extra momentum to swing around on my forehooves and fire back at the attacking pegasus (with just a touch of magic to keep myself from slipping).

BLAM BLAM! Ha! Shoulder shot! See that, Stone? That’s how it’s done!

The pegasus looked downright furious, but ran for cover rather than pressing the attack. I dived for cover of my own, keeping him occupied as a stallion I didn’t know ran up the stairs and past me towards the Secondary Vessel.

“Star, come on!”

I turned and ran toward the bulkhead just as the other pony’s gun spun up with a loud VRNNNNNNNN!

I could hear bullets pinging into the side of the hallway, but I ignored them in favor of hobbling toward the open doorway, Stone waving me toward him. The nameless stallion thundered in, and I was right on his tai—

Then, right in front of my eyes, the pressurized bulkhead snapped shut. And through its window, I could see Stone screaming something inaudible as the Secondary Ship dropped away out of the Philomena’s belly.

I could only stand there, staring at the pointedly wrong side of the door.

“Horsefeathers.”

That pretty much summed things up.

3: Parry

I stared at the locked, sealed, and pressurized doorway, behind which lay a void of emptiness all the way down to the Cloudbase. A void that should contain the Secondary Vessel.

It was then that the full weight of the situation crashed into me.

I was now stranded. Maybe even alone. On an abandoned ship. With a bunch of pirates who probably wanted my blood.

I started to swear again, but stopped when I saw her.

She was a unicorn mare, jet-black with an olive-green eyes and mane, levitating a rifle in the air next to her. Her horn was a little off, too, but I couldn’t quite place why. I was more concerned with the fact that she was not wearing a uniform, and that she had also spotted me right back.

She shouted something I couldn’t hear, then jumped back a few steps before turning left down the hallways that would bring her right to me. Another shout sounded out behind me, no doubt the pegasus who seemed to want nothing other than filling me with bullet holes (and was also surprisingly bad at it).

Needless to say, staying put was a bad idea.

Except the minute I started to run for the nearest hiding spot I knew of, red-hot spikes of pain shot up through my hindleg powerfully enough to nearly knock me to the floor. Making a mental note that low adrenaline equals lots of pain, I took my suffering out on the pistol’s mouthgrip and limped at a drastically reduced top speed. I was cutting it pretty damn close, but I actually managed to pull myself into one of the Maintenance ‘Cubbies’ before they spotted me.

Maintenance Cubbies were the bread and butter of an Engineering-specialization Naval Pony. They were little more than glorified pathways for vents and cables, but they went through the whole ship, were comfortable if you didn’t mind crawling on your stomach, and made for excellent hiding places. Something I was very happy about right now as I curled into the darkness behind an air vent, precariously perched over the ladder-hole leading down.

Not a second too soon. The door slid sideways with a sharp bang!, revealing the unicorn mare from earlier. She didn’t look angry so much as annoyed, thank the stars, as she scanned the room carefully. Her rifle (a powerful-looking pump-action that excluded everypony but unicorns from its use with the lack of a mouth-grip) floated in the air next to her, following her gaze, suspended in a neon-green glow. She was wearing a thick flight jacket with short boots, along with a thin necklace (silver studded with small gems) tight against the base of her neck. And with the glow from her horn helping things, I finally placed what was off about her horn. About halfway up, it suddenly tilted backwards and slightly to her left, like it had been broken and hastily repaired.

Her eyes swept over my hiding place, and I coiled myself up tighter to try and stay hidden.

My muscles were really starting to cramp from holding myself still, especially after all that running. That on top of ignoring my leg, an action that was getting harder with each passing second, and I was on the verge of screaming.

“She in there?” The voice sounded male, so definitely not the unicorn, but surprisingly soft-spoken for a pony so battle-scarred.

There were a few seconds of pause, before the unicorn (Celestia’s mercy, she had a masculine voice! She looked like a mare, but I was starting to seriously doubt what I’d find if I checked under her tail) growled, “Doesn’t look like it. You sure she went this way?”

“Pretty positive. And she had a broken leg, so she couldn’t have gotten far.”

“Well, then, you won’t have any trouble finding her without me, will you?”

“What!? But…she…she shot me!”

“Oh please, you’ve had wor—“ their voices suddenly became muffled as the door snapped shut. But if I strained enough, I could actually make out what they were saying. Kind of.

“—ave a dozen other ponies crawling around this junker, and an Engine salvage to pull off in a way that doesn’t plunge us to our deaths. So please, feel free to tell me why you finding and herding one injured mare to a Mini requires my help?”

The silence was response enough.

“Welp, good luck, and I’ll see you back on the ship!”

I could just barely hear the sound of her trotting off, followed not long after by the sound of him grumbling and leaving. I let myself breathe a soft sigh of relief and removed myself from the precarious perch over the ladder into a much safer (if more exposed, though that wasn’t really relevant now) position.

And now that I had the chance to consider it, some of their words struck my brain.

A dozen, probably more, ponies left behind? I knew that was a fast evacuation, but I didn’t expect the numbers to be that bad. Did some ponies just not get the message or something? Or was the damage to the ship worse than I thought?

And for that matter, how did they take the Philomena so damn fast? Here I was thinking earth ponies made ships tough, but at the rate that battle had gone, we may as well have been dueling an alicorn. A prospect made even more terrifying by the fact that there were no alicorns…well, not since the Calamity, at least.

And all that tied back to the allegiance of this mystery ship. At the rate the Philomena went down, it’s a fair bet that this ship could wipe the floor with almost everything in the Republican Navy. So who in Tartarus did it belong to? Was it the Imperium? The Magistrate? Or just…a rogue ship? Smugglers of some kind? I could feel myself getting more and more frantic over this, especially since answering that question could very well spell survival or extinction for the UPR. So what--?

“Whoa, Star,” I whispered to myself. “Just calm down. You won’t get anywhere by panicking.”

Several minutes of deep breaths later, and I was surprisingly calmed. Not in a better position to actually do anything, but…calm.

“”

“HOLY SWEET CELESTIA!” I jumped nearly six hooflengths into the air, quickly aiming my pistol at—

“Ugh…” My warning issued, I quickly laid my pistol on my back and helped the medical-zebra up the ladder.

“”

I looked back at my hindleg, where it was curled up as much as I could painlessly get it. “”

With a little finagling, he was able to get a better look at it in the cramped space. He didn’t poke at it, thank the stars, but it was still annoying and kinda painful.

“” he scorned.

“ pegasus ”

He mulled that over, clearly not happy with me still. “”

“”

“”

I did some mental plotting. Medical was roughly amidships, and the Lower Airstrip was in the back. Theoretically, it wouldn’t be hard to visit Medical on our way out. But we also had to consider how many Minis were left in the hangar. Which, if everypony left was being herded towards the hangar like they said, wouldn’t leave enough for us. Ergo, it’s first come, first served with the Philomena’s Minis, and we’d probably be dead last considering the trip to Medical.

That other ship, though…

A smile crept onto my face

“”

From my perch on the top deck of the Philomena, I could clearly see the two guards next to the gangplank they were guarding. One was a tan pegasus stallion with a dark-brown mane and tail, while the other was a blue-ish-purple earth pony mare with nearly-white hair. And if I’m being honest…I expected their weapons to be switched. I mean, sure, battlesaddles are a pegasus-built weapon, and mouth-held weapons are definitely an Earth Pony thing, so on that level it made sense. But…a pony with a shy demeanor should not be carrying a rifle nearly as big as her torso. Just…seriously, what!?

“Come ooooon, Rain, you gotta tell me!” the pegasus whined, clearly not taking his guard duty seriously.

“Um…don’t you think we should…um…focus on guarding th—“

“Guarding from who, exactly? I don’t see anypony around!” He clearly didn’t have good eyesight or something. “There’s nopony here, so this is the perfect time!”

“I…um…”

“What’s your secret? Special training? Super-senses? Magical enhancements?”

“Well…”

“How the hay does having a dancing talent correlate to combat flight!?”

Huh? Shuffling a bit, careful to keep one hoof on my collar and not bang my brand-new cast too much, I got into a position where I could see their cutie marks. Lo and behold, her cutie mark was a dancing shoe with the laces sticking up into a double-helix, though I was having trouble seeing it through that harness thing on her back (it must’ve had some kind of construct on it helping her breathe). By contrast, his cutie mark was a mechanical wing.

A pegasus with a mechanics cutie mark? A fighter pilot with a dancing talent?

These ponies just got weirder and weirder the more I looked.

She was about to say something when they both focused on something else. I couldn’t see what they were looking at, but judging by their reaction, it was Inyanga being a wonderful diversion.

“Hey you! Get back here!” The pegasus flew after him, while Rain-the-earth-pony flipped out the scope on her rifle and took aim.

Kra-BLAM!

Sweet, merciful Celestia! That’s not a rifle anymore, that’s officially a cannon!

As she reloaded with the elbow-shove of a lever, chasing after my zebra-healer-friend, I picked my way down behind her as quietly as I could and started running for the gangplank. I did my best not to look down, but every shudder of the gangplank made me nervous. It’s not like I was scared or anything. Growing up in floating/mountaintop cities does a lot to cure a fear of heights. But considering the distinct lack of wings I happened to suffer from, falling was a very real and unpleasant possibility.

But I made it safely onto the wooden deck of the mystery ship. Now all I had to do was find one of their Minis, steal it (somehow taking off without the use of an airstrip), meet Inyanga at the upper-aft obs-bubble, and fly off into the sunset like Daring Do herself. Except blue instead of gold. And no wings. And with a shield bisected by a shooting star, instead of a compass, for a cutie mark. And—

I shook that train of thought away, instead looking around for the nearest trapdoor going belowdecks. Riiiight…there! In front of that mast with cones on the crossbars that I couldn’t figure out the purpose of. At least now I knew they all fed down to a pair of headphones, but its purpose still eluded me as I snuck down the ramp leading below.

“Whoa…”

The word slipped out of my mouth as I caught sight of what had been laying just below my hooves. Four bigger-than-a-pony, made-from-a-really-shiny-metal-I-didn’t-know, operated-from-a-single-console-with-insanely-complicated-mechanics cannons, each one capable of rotating and pitching on its own pivot, with new shells brought up via some kind of pulley system leading belowdeck. At the front of the ship, a small ramp led slightly downward and split toward two hoof-operated gatling turrets, both pointed outward through holes in the ship’s hull. Behind me was another ramp leading down to what looked like an engine room, and a walled-off section that was probably my destination.

Credit where credit is due: these ponies may have been smugglers and outlaws, but they were seriously well-armed.

Sneaking through the hole-in-the-wall that was a doorway leading aft, I found myself flanked on either side by radically different Minis hanging from clamps in the ceiling, accessible by a walkway that went halfway down the room before ending in a peninsula of walls. On my left was the typical Fighter Mini; a cylindrical thing with stumpy wings and an intake that took up most of its nose, armed simply with two machine guns and powered by a Crystalline Accelerator sticking out the back, with the Engine exhausting around the Accelerator. But on the right…

Sharp-nosed, with twin intakes along its hull, leading into what looked from the outside like a single Engine and dual Accelerators all exhausting out the back. Blade-like wings folded up against its sides, and an open cockpit that let a pony feel the wind in their mane (presumably, it facilitated breathing with some Crystalline Construct designed for such). Armed with twin machine guns and one high-caliber cannon, and all painted teal-and-silver and tastefully embellished with that shiny-looking metal that probably made up the frame.

It was, by far, the most beautiful machine I had ever laid eyes on.

Until I looked over the controls.

“Whaaat!? How is somepony supposed to fly this thing? Oh…oh, so the steering yoke is split into two levers…for some reason. Alright, so that’s that. This…does…you know what? I won’t touch that.” My mumbling continued as I looked over the seriously overcomplicated controls and gauges. Not only could this machine be simplified, but I was pretty sure it was crying out for such.

Having ascertained which switches would kill me with a single nose-push and which ones wouldn’t, I settled into the cockpit. My forehooves slid neatly into place onto the steering…levers…while my hindhooves pushed gently against the rudder pedals. My stomach was settled comfortably against the seat, and I was ready to get this thing started and going.

With a single, solid kick against the Starter, the machine gave a loud, long growl, which turned into a low-pitched hum echoing over a high-pitched whine. Headlights came on, and a thin, sickly-green exhaust started trailing out from between the Accelerators. I nearly cried at the sound…the feel…sweet Harmony, if there was an equinification of this machine, it would catch fire from my furious lust.

Except…this room was closed. And even if it were open, the Accelerators would need some airspeed to kick in.

Dammit.

Wait…

I took notice of a little panel of buttons and levers on the wall between the Minis. Maybe…

I hopped out of the Mini and glanced over the panel. Four levers, two buttons, with half of which on either side of the panel. Hrm…

I moved my hoof from my chin to the topmost lever on the right side.

“Excuse me.”

The voice nearly made me jump straight out of my uniform, a stern tone that demanded no nonsense and my utmost respect. I had to turn all the way around before I caught sight of its source.

I took in the strange pony who’d somehow managed to sneak up on me. She’s a mare, clearly, but taller than any other mare I’d ever seen. The horn didn’t help either, adding nearly another hoof-length to her already imposing figure. Her coat was dark blue, to the point of being almost black. Her mane was just a few shades lighter, with a strange shimmer I’d never seen before, and braided into one long line for practicality’s sake. She’s wearing a dark brown trenchcoat, one that covered almost her entire body, overtop of a puffy white shirt. Perched atop her head was a stretched-out tricorner hat, adorned with a red-and-gold feather from what was either a weird hawk or a phoenix. Finishing the look were a set of boots, and a belt adorned with four slender swords and at least two pistols. Her glare was what got me most of all, though; a cold, calculating look through those cutting blue eyes of hers that seemed to flit between studying me and threatening me.

There’s a long moment of silence.

“U-um…hi there! W-W-Who’re…you…?” I already kind-of-knew the answer, but it couldn’t hurt to ask.

She waited a brief moment before replying in that stern-yet-melodic voice. “I am captain North Star of the Moonbeam Chariot. Now,” her glare went from calculating to outright menacing in the span of a second, “who are you, and what are you doing on my ship?”

A nervous chuckle somehow slipped between my lips as I slowly backed away. “Um…looking for the Head?”

Her glare darkened, and then her horn lit up a bright silver.

I backpedaled to try and flee, only to be rewarded with a stinging, tingling sensation hitting me in the chest.

I don’t even remember hitting the floor.

4: Internment

Here’s the thing not everypony understands about getting knocked unconscious:

Consciousness is not a pretty little butterfly that floats back in your direction once it’s done wandering off away from you. It’s a big, feisty timberwolf that won’t go anywhere you say unless you drag it there kicking and screaming and pin it to the ground where you want it to be. And even then, you have to work to keep it there.

Which is exactly why it took me a solid half-hour of work to wake up after that spell.

“Ugh…” Huh. I’d been trying to ask where I was, but that came out. Was something going on with my mouth? Was I hit with a re-literation spell?

“Ohayagh! Jargh uffayke!”

Ooooookay……re-literation spell it is.

The voice sounded male, but nothing else about it was familiar or even comprehensible. And as the world around me came more and more into focus, things only got stranger. For starters, the floor under me was wooden rather than metal, and the throbbing heartbeat of the various Constructs was all wrong. I counted two ide--no, two different-sized Constructs all humming and buzzing perfectly in tune. It was nice to feel it, but it all felt…wrong…

“Chyeh jargh uffayke, arghnnchyeh?”

“Urrrgh…okay…whoever you are? I can’t—“ I felt my everything clench up as a wave of headache swept through my system. “I can’t understand a word you’re saying.”

“Aww, chyehffeyne!” Suddenly, he started hollering (thankfully not in my direction). “Ey, Buhlitsh! Th’may’re’s uffayke!”

With a little effort, I managed to uncurl myself from my little ball and roll over to get a good look at him. Unicorn stallion, on the older end of the spectrum. I put him somewhere between fifty and sixty. His teal coat looked just a little less shiny than should be healthy, and his dark-blue-and-red mane/tail was almost three hoof-lengths long and yet somehow still practical. He was perched on top of one of the many large cargo boxes stacked throughout the room, cards shuffling in his fiery-red magic. If I scooted sideways a bit, I could make out his cutie mark.

A red six-pointed star surrounded by three gears? Definitely an engineer, if not an all-out magic talent.

As his cards dealt out in what looked from here like a game of solitaire, I took in the rest of the room. It was filled most of the way with boxes of food, tanks of water, and crates of shells. That pulley system from the deck above us stopped down here, confirming my suspicion that this was the lowest deck. My cell sat at one end, with the ramp leading up at the other. And behind that was a cluster of three powerful-looking Crystalline Constructs. Even with their featureless steel exteriors, it wasn’t hard to tell that the biggest one was an Engine. The two smaller ones flanking it were probably a Single-core Reactor and a Construct that facilitated breathing (given the massive number of holes in the ship’s hull, it seemed pretty essential). All three fed into a single intake pipe that went through the floor, with an extra branch shooting up through the ceiling to the Accelerator. A fourth and final cylinder not connected to the intake looked like an amplifier, powered by a unicorn horn casting into a receptacle rather than the usual air intake.

Simple. Elegant. And purring like an oversized kitten. The basic layout to get a ship flying, powered, ponied, and moving, with a few tricks to spare.

But most entertaining to my eyes was the hastily-patched hole on either side of the Engine. It looked like our shell went straight through the wooden hull and ripped a chunk out of their Engine. And while kind of awful, it brought a little smile to my ace.

“Well, she lives after all. I was afraid we’d have to hang her off the ship.” Walking down the ramp from the gun deck was the soft-spoken, battle-scarred pegasus buck. Still wearing that half-molten battlesaddle. Celestia’s mercy, did he shower in that thing, too? I also noted he was wearing slightly-crusted bandages on the shoulder where I’d shot him.

I may have snickered at that.

“Aww, shtighirr in threyacghtar. Fwayker right’p.”

The pegasus just raised an eyebrow. “As well as kill her.”

The unicorn shrugged and returned to his cards, smirking.

“Okay, I have to ask,” I muttered, immediately attracting the attention of both, “How do you understand him?”

“Practice,” came the flat reply and equally flat stare.

“Seriously?”

The pegasus didn’t respond, instead choosing to simply stare at me through the bars. He studied me for almost a minute, before gesturing to himself. “Vengeful Blitz. Blitz for short.” With a gesture up to the unicorn, he added, “That’s Luminary.”

Luminary gave me a wave and a smile, which I nervously returned. Blitz just continued to stare at me evenly.

Withering under his constant gaze, I finally murmured, “Take a picture, it’ll last longer.”

Blitz gave a tiny snort as his only response, before finally asking, “Your name?”

“Oh, uh…” I rose to my hooves, stumbling awkwardly when I remembered that one of them was in a cast, so I didn’t feel like a total bum. Plus, splinters were getting into my coat. “Star Chaser, Petty Officer 3rd class with an Engineering specialization.”

“Offay! Nushair ensheenair!” Luminary’s magenta eyes seemed to light up like lightbulbs at the word ‘engineer’.

“Uhh…right. That.”

Several long seconds passed by where nothing happened, besides Luminary watching Blitz for a few seconds, scoffing and rolling his eyes, and then returning to his cards.

Finally, Blitz spoke up again. “Why were you trying to steal Rain Shadow’s Mini?”

“Beeeecause I was trying to fly back home, all our Minis were probably gone, and I don’t exactly have wings.” After another second or two of silence, I decided that interrogation goes both ways. “Who’s Rain Shadow, anyhow?”

Blitz simply glared at me instead of stared.

A few seconds passed with nothing happening save for Luminary obviously getting bored with Blitz. Finally, he piped up, “Nsher th’dayum fesshon, Buhlitsh. N’ood’t chall chyeh t’racgh a dayum shmayul onsertwishe?”

Blitz closed his eyes and growled slightly. “Luminary, this is an interrogation. Smiling won’t get me information any faster. Besides, she’s a security risk.”

“Ishnt laykuh sheesh goineefhwayr. Shaydes, chap’n fwaype mamrayshn’whoo.”

“But we don’t want her to do that any more than she has to.” Ooookay…this was officially the craziest conversation I’d ever been privy to.

Finally, some realization hit Blitz, and he let out a long sigh. “Rain Shadow is one of our Mini pilots. Best fighter pilot anypony here’s ever met.”

Waaait a minute… “Earth pony? Blue with a white mane and tail? Cutie mark of a dance shoe? Wields a gun that deserves its own turret?”

Luminary snorted into chuckles, while Blitz kept his own laughter internal. Sweet Celestia, did this buck ever smile? “It’s silver, technically. But yes.”

“What’s silver? The gun?”

“Her mane and tail. You said white. It’s silver.”

“Oh, forgive me for my atrocious mistake, oh wise and knowledgeable stallion,” my look seemed to say. He wanted a staring contest? Well, here’s one for the ages for him.

After what felt like a minute of unblinking stares, he muttered, “I need to talk to Luminary. Privately.”

“Go ahead. ‘S not like I’m going anywhere.”

As Blitz walked off to chat with Luminary, I closed my eyes and focused on the metal framing the horribly overpowered vessel. The ship may be made of wood, but that metal frame might be enough for me to try and use some magic. Enough to break out of here, if I was really lucky. And sure enough, I could feel…

I tried my hardest to keep the surprise off my face as I felt the pulse of magic coming from the ship around me. Sweet Harmony, that’s powerful! What was this stuff? The arcane energies coming off the ship's frame did not feel like steel. At least, not any steel I knew. This had even more potency to it than granite!

Lemons out of lemonade: that was more than enough magic for me to buck these cell bars in half. I may not have been a magically-talented mare, but that was well within my purview now.

All that left me with a hint of a grin on my face as I reopened my eyes. Blitz and Luminary were still talking in hushed tones. Well, Blitz was talking in hushed tones. Seeing as I couldn’t understand a word he said, it didn’t matter what volume Luminary used. From what I could see, Blitz looked pretty unhappy about something or other. Were they talking execution? And for that matter, where was the captain? I’d figured she’d be the kind of mare to have a chat with her prisoners.

Finally, Blitz let out a huff of annoyance as Luminary started rummaging around in the various boxes. He quickly ended up with his front half completely inside one of the larger crates, pulling out a suit of really-high-quality armor piece by piece and tossing it over his shoulder like so much junk. A point against them being smugglers…seriously, what the actual hay was going on with this ship?

“Ahah!” He jumped back out of the box, two items floating before him in his red magic. One looked like a necklace, crudely made of a steel frame with wires and gems decorating its surface. The other was a little bracelet inlaid with only a single gem. Despite their almost haphazard appearance, the gems and wires were arranged as precisely as equinely possible. Holding up the two items and beaming, he added, “’Err ishis!”

“What was it doing in there?”

Luminary shifted his gaze over to the scattered bits of armor, quickly throwing them into the box a little more carefully than before. “Nosshare, raleigh.”

“Well, just re-stock it properly later.” Luminary nodded in a way that made me think it wasn’t gonna happen, before clasping the necklace around Blitz’ neck. Instantly, the gemstones lit up, along with the corresponding gemstone on the leg-strap. Blitz closed his eyes, concentrated for a second, then nodded. And with that unspoken signal, Luminary trotted over to the bars of my little cell. Upon closer inspection, it wasn’t too hard to tell what’s up with the gemstone in question.

“Let me guess; that’s some kind of tracking talisman, so he,” I gestured to Blitz, “can keep an eye on where I go. Looks like it has a tone-generating rune inlaid into it, so it’ll probably make a noise if I go somewhere I shouldn’t. Right?”

Luminary smiled in response, probably knowing that it’s the only response I could understand, as he maneuvered the talisman through the bars and towards my upper-foreleg. Blitz simply quirked a single eyebrow. “I’m surprised. I thought earth ponies didn’t learn about magic and enchanting.”

“Well, it’s all theoretical knowledge –Okay, that’s too tight– since there aren’t enough gems in the Republics for experimentation. But I didn’t get an Engineering specialization for my skill at dancing.” Or lack thereof, in all honesty.

“Well, you were correct on all accounts. Since we can’t keep an eye on you directly until the rest of the crew gets back, we figured this is the best option.”

“Gets back? From where?”

“Hush up and listen. This is important.” He waited a few seconds, and when I didn’t interject again, he continued. “Okay, off-limits areas right now are the Hangar and the Helm. I think you know where those are. Captain’s Quarters is always off limits, so don’t enter unless you’re invited by the captain. And if you hear two beeps from that gem, find Luminary or me so we can lock you back in here. Don’t follow those instructions, and you get shot or pitched overboard. Maybe both. Got it?” Whooakay, he just went from friendly-if-emotionless to outright scary in zero seconds flat there. Whiplash much?

“Yeah, got it. Two beeps, find you guys. Don’t go near the helm or the Minis, or else bullets happen.”

Blitz nodded at that, then started walking back up the ramp. Luminary simply unlocked the cell door and gestured that I was free to go.

Wait…”Seriously? You’re just gonna let your prisoner walk around the ship? Just like that?”

“Ahuah! Fwecayn—“ He must’ve seen the look on my face, because he immediately stopped talking and just gestured with his hoof.

As I walked out of the cell and into the cargo bay/engine room, I start re-evaluating my little escape plan. Originally, it was just to buck through the bars, hide in a crate until there was a clear path, then run for the hangar and the sexy, sexy Mini. Thankfully, they’d already solved step one for me…except they didn’t, did they? They had this friggin’ tracer on me.

I gave the gem-studded foreleg-bracer a tug when I figured Luminary wasn’t looking. Metal-over-leather held in place by cleverly-locked straps. It wasn’t coming off unless I had both a clear picture of its inner workings and a horn on my head. Of which I had neither. Oh, those clever little devils. May Luna blast them all straight to Tartarus.

I was all set to formulate an equally-devilish escape plan when my stomach rumbled. And since I couldn’t exactly plot on an empty stomach, I turned to the card-gathering Luminary and asked, “Ah…where’s the Galley?”

“Fwerksheyl.”

Ugh…why couldn’t I be a smarter pony? Or a Comms Specialist? I bet Spots could have this stallion deciphered in ten seconds flat…

Hang on…what he said sounded almost like ‘Fork Shell’. Nonsensical, but get rid of the ‘h’ and add an ‘a’ between the words, and you get…

“Forecastle. It’s in the forecastle?” I was rewarded by a bright grin and a nod. “Okay. Thanks.”

I took my leave, moving up the ramp as he casted me the occasional glance. Within a minute, I was on the top deck. And…oh boy…

“Stars above, we’re low.”

The deck was more or less how I remember it, lit only by moonlight and a single lantern. Blitz was standing at the Helm (a wheel on a tilting stand, currently locked in place, and flanked on either side by an array of dials and levers), muttering something about obvious statements. But all of that paled in comparison to the ships’ altitude.

I like to think I’ve lived for a while. Okay, maybe compared to somepony like Blazing Stone, 16 years isn’t really that long. At the very least, though, it’s long enough to get a cutie mark and some solid hooves-on training. Maybe even a house to call your own, if you’re quick about things. However, it seems like quite some time to me, which is why it’s pertinent when I say that in the entirety of my arguably-long life, I have never been as close to the Cloudbase as I was that day.

It was seriously right there! Close enough to easily not need any breathing help from Air-pressurizing enchantments. I felt like if I was acrobatic enough to hang off the railing from my tail, I could stick a hoof into that gaseous layer. I’d die if I tried, of course, but still! Being that close to the broiling layer of thick, greenish-grey clouds was just…wow. Words cannot express the mix of emotions I had then and there.

Almost in a trance, I walked up to the rail and peered over the edge. The Cloudbase sat ominously below, curling up against the hull of the ship like it was reaching up and after me.

Somewhere below that thing was solid ground.

A classic Old Mare’s Tale. The infamous story of the world below the Cloudbase, filled with the remnants of ponykind and concealed forever from view by the evil monster now covering it. Most ponies now considered that story as complete and utter hogwash. That the Cloudbase just went down forever and mountains were like ice cubes bobbing along its surface. I was one of those ponies. But standing here, looking at this almost-alive gaseous layer up close…

…even I had to admit there might’ve been something to those stories.

Clunk! Fwish.

I turned around to the source of the noise, quickly spotting the black-and-green unicorn from the Philomena. She’s the same as before, rifle slung across her back this time, and with absurd amounts of mud staining her boots.

She took a few deep breaths, then growled and started stalking toward the ramp belowdecks.

“Find it?” Blitz asked.

“Not even close,” she growled back.

Judging by Blitz’s expression, ‘it’ was pretty important. So, naturally, curiosity got the better of me. “Find what?”

“You damn well kn—“ she stared at me, unblinking, for several seconds, then flew into a furious rage, rifle swinging down and shoving itself into my face. “What are you—what is she doing out of the brig!?!”

“Lumi and I had work to do, so we put a Tracking Bracer on her in case she tried something. And once we had that, we didn’t see much point in leaving her there.” The way Blitz said it was so blasé, I was starting to wonder if he had any emotions period.

The unicorn silently fumed for a second as the rest of the crew gently floated up from over the far side of the hull, steering onto the ship via the brown pegasus I saw before. They all wore some kind of harness adorned with a brightly-glowing cylinder on each side, and all connected via cable to Captain…North Star? I think that was it…

Oh yeah, and mud. Mud was all over their legs.

Finally, the unicorn let out a harsh sigh. “Why do you even have a Tracking Bracer?”

“It’s Luminary’s.”

“Why does he have one?”

“The reason eludes me.”

She let out another sigh, then started stalking closer to me.

“Uh…what’re you doing? Please d—“

“If you make one wrong move…” she hissed, her rifle floating until I was staring into the barrel, her muzzle practically pressed against mine. In the moonlight, she shimmered almost unnaturally, her eyes glowing like they’re lit by some inner pyre.

“You hear me, Navy mare? One. Wrong. Move.”

Ka-Chak! I jumped frantically as she pumped the action on her rifle. Then, quick as she came, she scooped the ejected bullet out of the air and stalked down the ramp belowdecks.

“Aww, don’t mind her. She’s just being cautious.” The tan pegasus, having landed on the bridge with the rest of the crew and unhooked himself from the cables, trotted over to me with a smirk on his face.

“Right,” I mutter back. “Cautious. That’s the vibe I’m getting from her.”

He chuckled, and I got a view of the rest of the crew as they did…whatever. North Star’s stalking up towards Blitz and the Helm, eyeing me suspiciously. Rain Shadow had since lowered her enormous rifle onto the deck and was lovingly cleaning it. And the pegasus whose name I can’t remember was throwing his hoof over my shoulders and laughing.

“It’s C-H’s job to be cautious. She’s the First Mate, after all.”

“C-H?”

“Crooked Horn! You were just talkin’ to her!”

Waaaait a minute… “Her name is…literally…Crooked Horn?”

“Eeyup.”

I couldn’t help myself. I just started giggling. Then chuckling. Then the two of us were all-out laughing, struggling to stand and trying so hard to stop, only to remember the utterly perfect irony and start right back up again.

“Seriously!? Who names their foal ‘Crooked Horn!?’ It’d be like naming me ‘Stripey Mane’!”

“Pffff…Stripey Mane!? If there is some zebra out there named that...”

Ohhhhh……Luna strike me down now, before I tell him about the ancient Zebrican word Zecora…

When our giggles finally died out, he just smiles and blurts, “Damn you’re a hoot! Finally, somepony on this ship with a sense’ah humor!”

I held out my hoof, stifling one last chuckle. “Star Chaser.”

“Contrail.” Whoa. Strooooong hoofshake. Note to self: never hoof-wrestle him. “Where’re you headed to?”

“In general, or immediately?”

“Immediately for now.”

“Just to grab some food.”

“Sweet! I’ll join yah, and you can cover the ‘in general’ bit over some g—“

“MAKE READY TO SAIL! BLITZ, RAIN, HOIST THE SAILS! LUMINARY, POWER UP THE COMPRESSION FIELD!”

He perks up at that, but doesn’t do anything else. “Already? Huh. Guess she’s in a hurry today.”

The humming from below got louder and louder, another note added to its harmonious humming. Then there’s the chinking of pulleys and cables, that drew my gaze over the side of the ship.

The Cloudbase was quickly sliding away beneath us, reaching up like it wanted to grab us and pull us down. And out from either side of the hull were swinging a set of four long masts that stick out awkwardly to either side. From this angle, it almost looks like the ship was trying to become a biplane.

“Oh, yeah, you haven’t met our ride yet, have yah?”

Then the masts unfurled, one portion of each swinging upwards/downwards and pulling the sails open with them. Wind I didn’t even register before caught them, and with a powerful lurch, we’re suddenly slicing through the air at easily a few knots. It shouldn’t have been anything special, really. I’d been in Minis before, and they go crazy fast. But this is so much different. On this ship, you could feel the wind tussling your mane and whipping around your coat. It’s a whole different sensation, one that the airtight seals in the Republics didn’t really allow for.

The sails completely unfurl, and I was left once again re-evaluating my impressions of this ship. The sails together made an almost-perfect circle, and not in a haphazard or ugly way either. My comparison to a predator bird suddenly seemed much more apt as it gracefully ascended and rode the wind towards the bigger clouds far above.

Contrail threw a wing over my back and chuckled, “Miss Chaser, I formally welcome you to the Moonbeam Chariot.”