“The crew won’t be happy to hear this, captain,” Slow Match said as he stood facing Powder Burn in the dirt streets of Monger’s Row, the main street that led about Outcast Isle, “Would it be that hard to give them a few more days to waste their earnings before we go on this quest? I fear that if we force them out after only a brief reprieve—”

“Slow Match,” Powder Burn began, shutting his orange companion up, “Some shit-eating Navy runt decided it’d be fun to go out and try to hunt me down,” he took a step forwards, “to hunt us down. I don’t take that kind of challenge, that kind of insult, lightly.”

“This won’t be good for their morale. They lost quite a few rushing aboard that last ship,” Slow Match tried again, “If we thrust them out again so soon, it’s bound to backfire.”

“We always lose a bunch, it’s expected and,” he stomped a hoof to assert the point, “I won’t have their opinions of me undermined if I let this sit. In any case,” he turned away with a growl, “the sooner we get this taken care of, the sooner we ensure someone like Bonnet doesn’t go and fuck everything up!”

<~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~>

Frostbite strode up towards Bonnet’s table, the sound of other conversations drowning out all but the soft movements of her vanilla lips. As he drew nearer, however, whispers of words began to kiss at his ears. One of the other two ponies at her table slammed a hoof on it, rattling her mug. Her buttery eyes flickered to it, a mild scowl sullying her features.

“Damnit, mare!” the male snarled, “The prices I’m givin you are far more fuckin fair than any other thrice-blasted fence is willin to pay!”

“Yet still not fair enough for me, Mr. Garters,” Bonnet replied with a voice as even as churned cream, scowling lazily back at him.

“And what you claim is a fair price is somethin that damn well ain’t,” he snarled, shoving an accusatory hoof in her direction, “and you damn well know it!” he jerked the green hoof back towards his chest, “I’ve already got to deal with sellin all that shit you dredge up! Pay all the tariffs! Pay off all the inspectors! Fuck, I’ve got to pay my crew to keep their driveling mouths shut!” he quickly turned to his partner and Frostbite caught a glimpse of a horn and cherry eyes under the pony’s ratty hat, “No offense to you, Mr. Gates.”

“None taken, captain,” the second pony replied.

“So, yeah!” Garters snarled back to Bonnet as he turned back to her, “All that shit I’ve got to deal with just so I can sell your ill-gotten goods. So if you ain’t willin to negotiate to my bloodied terms and quit being such a filthy, rotten, whor—”

The word was hardly out of his mouth when Bonnet launched into a sudden flash of movement, finishing the move before the derogatory term could stain his lips. His mouth remained open as one of Bonnet’s short blades pressed into the bottom of Garters’ jaw. Her eyes latched onto his partner, the deadly look in her eyes him freezing him in his place.

“You will not,” her eyes latched back onto Garters, “use that word in my presence,” her glaring eyes considered a moment, and she amended: “at least not when it just so happens that I'm the pony it’s being directed at. I am many things, Mr. Garters, you'd do well to remember that a whore is not one of them.”

She gently pressed the needle-like blade deeper into the skin of his chin, forcing him to shut his maw and drawing a drop of blood forth from his flesh.

“If we’re not clear on that…” she trailed off, eyes flickering downwards for a short moment, “Well...let’s just say that your throat is safe from my weapons. Elsewhere? Not so much,” Garters gave a gulp, tail tucking with discomfort, “You will either accept my offer or leave it. My prices are final. If you wish to reconsider, you know where to find me. Now get out of my sight,” her blade retracted from his chin and Garters took a quick step back, glowering as he rubbed at his injury, and headed for the door with Gates in tow.

“By Luna, the nerve of some ponies,” Bonnet grumbled to herself, wiping a small stain of blood onto the filthy table she sat before, “Would you not agree?” her eyes flicked to Frostbite, who was now only steps away from the table, full of a curious fire. She returned the weapon to her belt and took a drink from her mug.

“I might have put it a little less harshly,” he commented, throwing the leaving pair a glance, “but to the rest, I can attest.”

“You don’t happen to know Mr. Garters of the Frothing Serpent. He may whine and complain about costs and expenses, but his ship’s well taken care of and his crew are decently healthy. He’s just a greedy little bastard, come dawn he’ll accept my terms.”

“I suppose this spot is not taken?” Frostbite inquired, gesturing to the space Captain Garters and his colleague had recently sat at.

“Depends on who’s asking,” she replied, eyeing him up and down as the mug was returned to the table.

“A pony with a proposition,” Frostbite replied, taking a seat opposite the pirate.

“It seems those are a dime a dozen these days,” she replied with a tired sigh, eyeing a pedicured hoof boredly.

“You’re owed a great sum of money by the pirate Powder Burn,” Frostbite began, yet before he could continue, Bonnet’s eyes snapped to him.

“That’s captain Powder Burn,” she cut in with both voice and tone.

“Apologies,” he said with a fake smile, “nonetheless, he owes you quite the sum in money if my ears hear right. I happen to be capable of granting such a sum...for small services rendered.”

“Four thousand bits are hardly worthy of ‘small services,’” she gave a quick downwards glance at him, “Whatever the case, I don’t rent myself out to the likes of you. The local brothel, however…” she trailed off with a knowing smile.

Despite his training, Frostbite gave her a disgusted look, “I’m a married stallion,” he snapped, “to even think such a thing!”

Bonnet shrugged, “Wouldn’t be the first time,” she replied casually, “but you’ve sparked my interest enough, what do you want?”

“Captain Powder Burn, dead or alive,” Frostbite replied, cutting right to the point.

Bonnet’s creamy eyes studied Frostbite for the longest time. They ran across his surface, inspecting his dispassionate look. They darted above and beyond him, across the room about them before resettling back on the captain, laying there for a time.

She took another sip from her mug.

“He’s clean,” she began in a contemplative voice, “so are the three of his companions that came with him, both before and after,” Frostbite showed no sign of his surprise at her knowledge that the others were with him, “He doesn’t favor the swill served here and he’s got plenty of money to bribe a bartender for whatever reason. Then he approaches the deadliest mare in the room with nothing more than his coat, cock, and horn, and offers that mare a large sum of bits for the head of one of her notorious colleagues. So I ask myself,” she took another sip from her mug, the wild tilt of her head showing that it was nearing empty, “‘who is this colt?’”

“Does it matter?” Frostbite inquired, not willing to blow his cover so soon.

“Only if you want to keep this conversation going,” she replied simply.

Frostbite himself was quiet for a time, before extending a hoof for shaking. He smiled grimly, “Captain Frostbite of the Crown’s Judgement.”

His offered hoof was ignored as Bonnet appeared to take mental note of his name, running it through a list in her head. As it clicked, her eyes darted wide, body growing tense. Her eyes darted once around the room. Frostbite opened his mouth to console her and she, in another flash of movement, had one of her blades pressed against his throat.

“Equestrian Royal Navy,” Bonnet stated, a tinge of worry in her voice, “The fuck you know how to find me!?” she demanded with a low growl.

“A little seapony told me,” Frostbite replied, keeping his face an emotionless mask as he quickly brought a series of spells to the forefront of his mind, not charging them up just yet so as not to alert her with the glow of his horn, ‘should she try anything...’ he mentally trailed off, “As to what I want, I have already told you. I have no current quarrel with you, Ms. Bonnet—”

“That’s captain Bonnet,” Bonnet snarled in a deadly voice.

“Captain Bonnet,” Frostbite amended, “I have no quarrel with you, I simply seek to capture captain Powder Burn and deliver payment for services rendered,” he gave her a reassuring smile, “No more, no less.”

A mysterious face washed over her, contemplating and calculating. A sudden smile sprouted across her honeyed lips, though it was devoid of any form of mirth.

“Right,” she replied with her grim grin, “And is it before or after I give you that information that you try to take me as well? I’ve played this game before, captain Frostbite.”

A frown felled his smile as he opened his mouth to reassure her. She pressed her blade deeper into him as she spoke up first.

“‘Oh, but whatever do you mean, captain Bonnet?’” she said in a gruff imitation of him before switching back to her own, cold voice, “I know the oaths you foals take,” a disgusted sneer crossed her face, “It’s all lollipops and sunshine until you’ve got what you want and then I’ll be joining captain Powder Burn in your brig.”

“So the answer is no?” Frostbite asked, selecting a spell to use should things go sour, ‘It can not be said that I did not try,’ he thought.

“Seeing as you only brought half the number I brought, I’d wager it would do you good to get the fuck out of here and never let me catch sight of your ship,” Bonnet suggested, a drop of blood was sprung from the confines of Frostbite’s hide, running down the steel blade of her weapon.

“Ah, but what I lack in numbers I make up for in skill,” he gestured behind him with his eyes, uncertain what she would do if he were to move his head, “My guards are sober, smart, and skilled. Can you say so much for your own, captain Bonnet?”

Bonnet’s unfriendly smile turned into a sour frown, “You have no quarrel with me,” she sneered back, quoting him.

“Not so long as you cooperate, I do not,” he agreed, “But fail to provide aid…” he trailed off, letting the threat hang in the air.

“I don’t like being threatened,” Bonnet growled back.

Frostbite gave her a thin smile, jerking his eyes down to the needle-blade pressed into the soft flesh beneath his jaw, “I would hate for this to come to blows, captain Bonnet,” he said, “But I will do whatever, whatever,” he repeated, leaning an inch forwards as his face hardened, “It takes to bring that gelding bastard to justice.”

Bonnet grew quiet once more, the calculating look returning to her creamy eyes. They suddenly softened and she gave a light, knowing giggle, taking a finishing swig from her mug with her free hoof.

“And here I thought you Guards were all emotionless geldings. I know that look. You want vengeance,” she observed, “That, or you should’ve gotten a mark in acting.”

“Quite a few others have called it that,” Frostbite agreed, “And I am not lying.”

“We’ll see,” she said. Hesitating only for a moment longer, Bonnet finally withdrew her blade, though it remained clutched in the short-range telekinetic magic of her hoof, “Whatever it takes?” she asked. Frostbite nodded, “Tell me your story, then. You want vengeance? Why?”

“He killed my brother-in-law,” Frostbite stated simply.

“How?” she asked.

“I don’t know,” Frostbite replied, voice set with a tinge of a growl, “But I know it was by his hooves that he died, a survivor reported as much.”

“A survivor?” Bonnet inquired, looking suddenly skeptical, “We are talking about captain Powder Burn here, correct?”

“He was in the crow’s nest when the ship exploded,” Frostbite reported simply.

Bonnet gave a quick shrug, “Well I guess we all make mistakes sometimes.”

“Mistakes!?” Frostbite demanded, “How does letting a prisoner live count as a mistake!?”

“Oh, well, I dunno,” she snapped back, “Maybe because not all of us like leaving prisoners alive. Captain Powder Burn certainly doesn’t,” her spout of anger faded with a quick smile, one that sent a few light butterflies through Frostbite’s stomach, “but, back on track: he killed your brother-in-law so you want his head? This isn’t some bullshit quest for justice? You’re not going to try and make this a two-for-one pirate special?”

Frostbite held his tongue for a time.

‘Is it?’ he wondered as he gazed back into the pirate’s eyes, ‘Justice would see both of these pirates hang for their crimes...’

‘Whatever it takes...’ he had said.

Justice would demand he incapacitate this mare and drag her back to Equestria for a deeper interrogation. Justice would demand they find out the location of Outcast Island and see it wiped clean off the map.

And yet he had no such intentions...yet.

“I would rather have the two of you brought back,” Frostbite admitted, “but if it takes a pirate to catch a pirate…” he trailed off, “I do not expect you to take me to Outcast Island and I do not expect you to put your own assets in harms way. All I expect is that, at the end of the day, I bring back captain Powder Burn. Whether whole or in pieces, I do not care.”

“And in return I get my four thousand bits?” Bonnet inquired.

“That you will,” Frostbite promised.

“Double cross me and I’ll geld you and make you chase your bits to the bottom of the sea with a cannonball as a guide,” she promised, offering a hoof, “That aside, you have a deal, Mr. Frostbite.”

“Captain Frostbite,” he countered, and shook.

Author's Note

Captain Vanilla Bonnet written by Warren Peace.