Fire and Frost: a Tale of Vengance

Lieutenant Broadhead frowned as he read over the message again. It had but a minute ago arrived with a *pop* of magical energy in front of him, seal and all...

Dear Lieutenant Broadhead,

I have a favor to ask of you concerning your captain, my beloved Captain Frostbite on this mission of his. By the goddesses, I cannot lose him to the pirate Powder Burn, to the sea, or to any other many things that I know will plague the mission he has partaken in.

What I ask of you is simple. Should the mission prove so dangerous as to threaten the life of Captain Frostbite, I beg of you to…

“Ship on the horizon!” the call came from the crow’s nest above, “Dead ahead! She’s flying no colors!” the lookout continued.

Broadhead quickly spotted Frostbite, the captain bringing a spyglass to bear, a frown spotting his lips. He began to approach as Frostbite brought the glass away, his eyes bearing a questioning look, “Down with our colors!” he called upwards, “Up with one of the Equestrian Merchant’s Guild! Hopefully that will not scare them off.”

“Aye, sir! Down with the colors! Raise that of the Merchant’s Guild!” the lookout cried back, lowering their Equestrian Navy flag and running up another.

“They’re at the site of the wreck?” Broadhead asked, more an observation than an actual question.

Frostbite nodded. Their search for Powder Burn began at the site where the Majestic Pride had been sunk. It would be ludicrous to expect to find the pirate there, but that was not the intent of their visit.

“They are. I cannot tell for certain, but the ship appears to be a fat little carrack,” Frostbite said, “Three masts, all sails tucked away, bobbing at anchor.”

“And none of ours if she’s flying no colors,” Broadhead commented.

Frostbite nodded again, “Any vessel of ours should be long gone from here. If that one is simply sitting there then I would wager our luck has paid off,” he turned to Broadhead with a quick smile, “a scavenger’s ship, no doubt.”

<~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~>

“The Vultures’ Delight,” Frostbite said, an eye to his spyglass again, “a fitting name for a vessel like that.”

The other ship had shown no sign of spotting the Crown’s Judgement until they had nearly quartered the distance between the two vessels. Either the other ship didn’t care about the vessel careening straight at them—which was quite unlikely—or the current lookout would shortly be getting a good beating from his superior.

As it was, the Vultures’ Delight’s only reaction so far was to rotate perpendicular to the oncoming Crown’s Judgement and ready her guns, the four that there were per side bristling and ready to fire at a word. A word that hadn’t been given thus far.

Worried faces of a skeleton crew crowded the deck of the other vessel as Frostbite eyed them over with his spyglass. They appeared filthy and a little malnourished, likely a testament to a long voyage. Many of them wielded weapons, mostly carpentry and cooking tools with a few gleaming cutlasses and boarding pikes. Nothing the Guards couldn’t handle should the other vessel prove hostile.

A single earth pony glared back from the high aftcastle, one eye squinted shut as the other was pressed to a spyglass.

“The Vultures’ Delight. Captained by Slate Sheet, earth pony, male,” a Guard to Frostbite’s left read off a large tome, Frostbite lowered his spyglass, “while not wanted for any crimes, it’s suspected he’s a part-time pirate fence,” the Guard finished, closing the tome and stuffing it into his hammerspace.

“Thank you, Ensign Scribe, dismissed,” Frostbite said.

“Aye, sir,” Scribe said with a salute, trotting off.

“Nothing to get him on, no leverage, what’s the plan?” Broadhead inquired, five other spear-wielders with telescoping spears waiting stoically behind him.

“Ask him politely,” Frostbite replied, “he knows we wield the bigger stick and these are international waters. Hopefully that is all the leverage we need. If not,” Frostbite shrugged and jerked his head behind him, where a large group of Guards had amassed, many more still waiting in reserve belowdecks, “We are well within firing range and four cannons are no match for sixty Equestrian Royal Navy combatative spellcasters.”

“Hm,” Broadhead grunted as Frostbite turned about. By now the two ships were almost a mile out, white wake washing out behind the Crown’s Judgement as it raced forth through the water. Wind Breaker, flying above with his team of sailmasters, continued relaying orders to his lackeys, getting the best possible speed out of the ship.

“Petty Officer Amplify, your spell, if you please?” Frostbite asked one of the many Guards waiting behind him.

“Aye, sir,” Amplify nodded, closing his eyes in concentration as he cast and held a spell.

Frostbite cleared his throat, which now sparkled with magical light, “This is the ENS Crown’s Judgement! Lay down your arms and prepare to be boarded!” he called out towards the Vultures’ Delight. Many of those on board visibly flinched at the sudden shout.

Silence replied for a short while, the only sound the snapping of sails above and the wash of water below.

“Sorry, my good sir!” a mocking voice called out from the other ship venomously, the voice amplified much like Frostbite’s own, “But I don’t consent to illegal searches! Have a good day!”

Frostbite frowned at the reply before calling back, “We do not intend to search your vessel if you comply!” ‘In any case these are international waters, there are no protecting laws here,’ he didn’t add, “We merely wish to ascertain your reason for visiting the area of a recent pirate attack, as well as ask you a few questions, Captain Slate Sheet!”

The silence was deafening for even longer now, the ships now only a half-mile apart and still closing. The cannons of the other ship continued to glisten in the sunny daylight, sharp flashes of light gleaming off the steel of weapons as their owners fidgeted. Frostbite wondered if he had, perhaps, gone too far in spooking the other pony. He glanced behind him, knowing the orders he’d given his crew in case they were fired upon.

“What sort of questions!?” the voice suddenly called back.

“Those of a more private nature. Something that I am sure somepony in your...position understands!” Frostbite called back. When another reply was not forthcoming, he continued, the ships a quarter-mile apart, “Make us wait much longer and you will have peaked my suspicion enough that we will search your vessel, Captain Sheet!”

This time the gap of silence was only a few seconds long, “Fine! But your colts stay on the main deck! You may send one representative to my cabin to make your inquiries, then be on your way!”

A faint cry came from the other vessel, the meaning lost in the distance. Frostbite brought his spyglass to bear once more with a nod to Amplify, watching as the ponies on deck put aside or sheathed their weapons. The cannons were quickly pulled back, the wooden slots falling flush with the side of the ship.

<~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~>

“Back against the railing! On your bellies, all of you! Forehooves over your heads!” Broadhead ordered the other crew as he, Frostbite, and twenty other Guards crossed over, “We aren’t searching you, just want you where we can see you!” he added as many of the motley members looked startled, many readying to bolt.

‘If it were not for this mission, I would wager we would be making quite the arrest here,’ Frostbite mused, exchanging a look with Broadhead before the other moved forwards, getting the other crew in line.

“I don’t quite see how all this is fuckin necessary,” the slate grey form of Slate Sheet growled, eyeing his crew.

“Simple precaution, nothing more,” Frostbite assured the other captain as he inquired, “This is all of your crew?”

Sheet glanced at the assembled group on deck, most glaring balefully back at the Guards, “And if it ain’t?”

“Got ‘er secured all down there!” a sopping wet earth pony with an old-looking scuba tank said, hopping over onto the deck with a series of buddies and shaking dry, “Y’can haul ‘er up n—” the divers froze at the sight of the Guards.

“You lot,” Broadhead ordered, striding forth with two combat casters in tow, “emulate the rest!” he jerked his head to the group already on deck.

“Y-yessir!” the pony stuttered, the divers quickly following suit.

“Any more?” Frostbite inquired.

“Not unless they’re messin around belowdecks, no,” Sheet glowered, “Now are you gonna ask your damn questions or not? Faster you’re outta my mane, the better.”

Frostbite glanced about the deck, “You mentioned your cabin?” he said.

Sheet gave a growly mutter before turning and heading towards the high aftcastle, “What’d you say your name was, Captain…”

“I did not say my name,” Frostbite replied as the two stepped through a door and into the dank belly of the Vultures’ Delight. The interior smelled foul, fouler than even a ship stuck at sea a long time ought to have been. Creaks and groans emanated from the boards about the two ponies and weak light from underfed lanterns left most of the ship in shadows.

“This way,” Sheet muttered, “Mind your head,” he added, ducking down into a side passage.

Frostbite followed, ducking down as he entered a small, empty storage room...empty of crates and other supplies, at least.

A pegasus and a unicorn charged him, heavy wooden belaying pins clutched in maw and magic respectively.

“Alive! Remember!” Sheet growled from behind the two. Frostbite’s glare deepened.

The pegasus reached him first, or at least would have. Frostbite sent a blast of icy energy at the airborne attacker. The shot struck a wing and the pegasus gave a cry of startled pain as a chunk of ice encased the appendage.

No longer flying, the pegasus crashed into Frostbite, deflecting off the Guard as he cemented his stance. Frostbite’s magical shield flared a bright blue as the pegasus bounced and hit the deck as he clutched and swore at the frozen wing. His weapon clattered to the floor.

Frostbite fired twice more, turning for the second shot as the unicorn swung at his head. The first shot pinned one of the pegasus’s hooves to the deck in a chunk of ice. The second struck the unicorn’s horn, freezing that in a chunk of ice as well.

The unicorn yelped, the sudden feeling of super-intense brain freeze breaking his concentration and letting the belaying pin clatter to the floor. Frostbite swiveled and threw a buck to the still charging unicorn’s face, the enemy’s nose exploding in a flower of blood as he stumbled back with a cry of pain.

Four more icy blasts and the unicorn’s hooves were stuck icily in place. He pulled at his hooves in painful fright, but to no avail. His eyes grew wide as he looked up in time to find his own weapon turned against him, Frostbite bringing it crashing down on his skull with a hoof.

The unicorn hit the deck, blood pooling down around his battered nose as he took a nap. The same treatment shut the pained pegasus up as well. Both threats taken care of, Frostbite let the icy creations melt, turning to see Sheet, eyeing him with frantic horror as he tried to yank a pistol from his belt.

Frostbite was faster.

He flung the belaying pin with his magic, the blow striking Sheet across the face, making him recoil with a loud swear. Frostbite galloped forth, yanking the pistol from Sheet’s belt and floating it over to him.

Sheet recovered as Frostbite pressed the pistol to Sheet’s muzzle, the murder in the earth pony’s eyes turning to horror as he crossed them at the weapon. The wide, stricken orbs darted to Frostbite’s calm face. A pattering of urine stained the deck between Sheet’s quivering hind hooves as he wet himself in fright.

“P-please don’t k-kill me!” Sheet stuttered in fright, sweating bullets.

“Who set this up?” Frostbite asked, his voice calm despite the situation, “Powder Burn?”

“Wh-what? I...w-why would he...” the words stumbled out of Sheet’s maw with fright.

“You have two seconds to answer the question,” Frostbite stated, “Who hired you to kill me?”

“What!? No! I-I did!” Sheet replied, eyes darting to the gun as if afraid it would go off, “N-not kill you...I-I just wanted a hostage! Th-thought you were gonna search my-my vessel!” the eyes darted back to Frostbite.

‘And he thought taking me prisoner would give him a clean getaway card?’ Frostbite thought. Despite his stoically featureless face, he was incredulous at the idiocracy, “I am not going to search your vessel,” he asserted, lowering the pistol, “and I am not going to kill you...” Sheet gave a sigh of relief, mouthing what looked like a silent prayer, “...provided you answer my questions truthfully,” Sheet gulped.

“Now: where is the pirate known as Powder Burn?”

“Wh-why are you asking m—” he shut his trap as the pistol rose an inch towards his face, “I-I don’t know where he is!” the pistol rose another, “No, please! I swear I don’t know!” he blubbered.

“You are a pirate fence and yet you have the audacity to try to tell me you honestly do not know where a pirate is?” Frostbite asked, bringing the pistol to bear once more. Sheet would have wet himself again had he not already.

“Please! No, I don’t! I don’t! The only ponies who know where pirates hole up are pirates themselves! Ponies like me…” he jerked a hoof towards himself, “...we don’t get told shit about where they hole up! I j-just sell them stuff! Buy their stuff! But they find me, not the other way around! Please don’t kill me!” the last line was a wail as Sheet fell to his hooves, “Please! Please!”

“You know nothing about where pirates like Powder Burn hole up?” Frostbite asked, clarifying as he brought the pistol away.

“No, no!” Sheet mumbled from the floor, “Just that they call it Outcast Island...something like that.”

‘Outcast Island,’ Frostbite considered, he’d never heard of such a place before, “And what do you know about Outcast Island?”

“It’s a safe haven. For pirates,” he looked up miserably to Frostbite, “But nopony can find it, nopony who’s never found it before. Waters around it are treacherous, filled with rocks and reefs and monsters, only the pirates know the way through. Please, it’s all I know.”

‘If the only ponies who can find it are those who have found it, how did they find it in the first place,’ Frostbite mused at the lack of logic behind the idea, “And that is where Powder Burn would have gone?”

“Y-yeah. There or…” he trailed off, looking quickly away.

Frostbite narrowed his eye, inching the pistol closer.

“Prance! Prance!” Sheet cried out. Frostbite raised an inquisitive eyebrow, “What? You know how those flying fuckers are! Pass em a few coins and it’s: ‘welcome to Prance, Mr. Smith!’ They habit the area, usually find us there when they wanna trade and stuff!”

“Any specific port?” Frostbite asked. Sheet opened his mouth to reply, the pistol inched forth as Frostbite added, “Lie to me and you will regret it concerning this.”

Sheet closed his mouth and gulped again, “I...you’ll want the port les Stables-d'Olonne, the smallest one at the border between Prance and Great Grifon. If he d-didn’t go to Outcast Island, he surely went there...to sell to another fence.”

Frostbite mulled that bit of information over for a time. The unicorn behind him gave a moan, rubbing his bloody nose painfully with a hoof. He began to get to his hooves, but froze as his eyes locked onto Frostbite, the pistol rested in his grip now pointed at the unicorn.

“Get back up and I will put you back down,” Frostbite said. The unicorn lay back down, glaring as he nursed his wounds. He turned back to Sheet, “If I should find out that you are lying to me…”

“I’m not!” Sheet cried, “If he’s not gone to Outcast Isle, he’ll be in Les Stables-d'Olonne! I swear!”

Frostbite eyed the earth pony icily for a long minute, “We shall see,” he finally replied, turning as if to leave before stopping and turning back, “One final question: have you salvaged any Royal Guard armor from the wreck.”

“Y-yes, a few pieces...here and there,” Sheet said with a wince.

“See to it that they are returned to Equestria…” Frostbite’s eyes narrowed, “...or else.”

<~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~>

“They’re gone!” the lookout called from above.

“Are you sure!?” Sheet demanded with a snarl, “If I find out you’re as full as shit as you were when you didn’t spot them coming…”

“Sure, cap’n!” the lookout cried back down.

“You’d better call it out if they start turning!” Sheet called back up, before disappearing into his cabin. He gathered up and inkwell and quill, setting a sheet of parchment before him. The message was brief, it didn’t need to be long.

“Mr. Sender!” Sheet called out, a unicorn with a flaming scroll cutie mark trotting in.

“Aye, captain?” Sender asked.

“I’ve got a message I need you to send,” Sheet said, rolling and tying up the parchment, “For Captain Powder Burn.”