Act 1: Formal Introductions Chapter 1: Metal and Fire
"Do you think we should start now?"
"Yes, perhaps we should."
"Wait, we have a guest."
"Yes, I can see him now. He seems to be wearing a hat that went out of style years ago, a beard on his neck, and an odd fascination for pastel-colored horses."
"What makes him not a her?"
"Why would a woman be oddly obsessed with colorful, cartoon ponies?"
"Good point."
"Ah well, might as well not deny him the right to follow along with us."
"Alright, alright. He can watch."
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In the Royal Palace....
Princess Celestia awoke from her short slumber. It was early in the morning, and a reasonable time to raise the sun. It would provide some light from the scheduled storm, as well. Can't have her citizens bumping around in darkness, now, can we?
With an irritated groan, she crawled out of the comfort of her soft, warm bed and trudged over to the balcony, her mind buzzing with the politics she would have to deal with today. At least her adopted niece Princess Cadence and her husband Shining Armor had come over to Canterlot for a friendly visit, eager to acquire themselves a slight bit of relief from ruling an Empire. They would almost certainly aid in her battle against politicians and aristocrats. The meager relief was enough to bring a smile to the alicorn's face.
She willed her magic forward to throw open the doors, wading its way through the multitude of various magical and physical safety locks. Equestria may be a land of peace, but that doesn't mean a princess mustn't be the least bit paranoid.
The doors burst open, the fresh, cold air flowing over the princess. Below her lay the city of Canterlot, still sound asleep, with only a few ponies running about their early morning business. A few pegasus dotted the skies, moving the storm clouds about. To her left was her sister Luna, Princess of the Night, standing on her own balcony in her own room, preparing to lower the moon so Celestia could raise the sun.
Suddenly, a massive clap of thunder shook the entire palace; the entire city for that matter. In the distance, loud pops of... something could be heard. The dark clouds above flashed with bright blue and orange light, and then something fell from the sky. Squinting, Celestia could identify it as a ship, a wooden ship, burning as it fell to the world below. How did a ship get in the sky without a balloon?...
She glanced over to her sister nearby, and their eyes met for a brief moment, both saying the same thing: slow the ship with magic.
Immediately, both alicorn's horns glowed their respective colors -- Celestia a dim yellow, Luna a dark blue -- and the ship in the distance slowed its descent to the earth below significantly. But Celestia felt another magical presence, that of Celestia's former student and recently crowned Princess of Friendship Twilight Sparkle. She must've been awake, studying restlessly like she usually did when she saw the ship falling as well, and taken action as well. The entire ship halted in the air, almost comically, a few hundred feet off the Everfree Forest. Then, just a moment later, all three alicorns stopped casting their magic, shocked by the sudden unknown assistance in magic and seeing the ship hanging in the air. It, once again, flew to the ground before any of the startled alicorns could object via magic, falling into the earth in a spray of dirt and trees; its crash area catching fire, burning trees and scorching the earth. Several animals mostly likely died on impact.
Celestia had no idea how long she had been gaping in awe at the site several miles off, but a knock on the door threw her out of her trance. Something similar had happened with Luna, both startled at almost exactly the same time. Quickly lowering the moon and raising the sun, they ran to their room doors to discover a guard each, both with a similar message: the entirety of the Royal Court, along with every noble, required council.
Gods save them from the deadly world of politics.
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An hour ago, aboard a nameless airship frigate....
Wherever they were, they certainly weren't on Iynia anymore. Maybe, if they were patient, they would circumnavigate the world. It's never been attempted, so maybe it would be enough to wipe away their status as 'high priority terrorists'? Doubtful. It wouldn't really accomplish anything in the long run. Still, there was always that silver lining, and Jade hung onto that for her entire life. Always look at the silver lining, lest you fall into the pits of despair itself. Always. If only she could convince her younger brother to act like her....
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Maxwell was unsure. He always was. He wasn't sure why Xalek chose him to lead, but he did. And so far, he lost about their entire group of friends, save for his younger brother and sister, Xalek himself, and Satele Everneel. Still, he pressed on. He would get all of them out of this mess one way or the other. And, most importantly, he would strike the Hegemony so hard that they would never forget it. Ever.
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Xalek breathed deeply in his meditative state. He had to focus, he had to. He was a Grand Master Unicorn, one of the strongest in existence. Such a shame he was exiled by his peers after supporting the rebellion. The Order was not known for offering support to any side in times of war, the only times being when they were directly threatened.
Something was tugging at the back of his mind, trying to pull him away from meditating on his limited reserves of magic.
What is it now? He grumbled mentally to himself. With a sigh, he pulled his consciousness away from the dwindling blue swirls of magic.
The tugging sensation was getting stronger now, as if his mind was trying to tell him something. Still grumbling, he set his attention toward it. A metal alarm bell had been set off in his head, it seemed. This must be important.
His mind had detected a massive focus of magic nearby. Xalek did not know how much, or how powerful, but he did know that he greatly needed to replenish his reserves.
His focus intensified as he strained his old mind to will magical concentrations to appear in his mind. What he found was... delicious. A massive, powerful center of magic, over some sort of landmass. In fact, the airship was right inside of it....
Wait... He thought.
His thoughts were interrupted by the sounds of fighting.
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William did what he normally did everyday: he sat at the edge of the ship's deck, staring off into the horizon emotionlessly. His electric blue eyes scanned the horizon, taking in every detail. Not like there was anything new. It was always the same: he would stand here, scan the horizon, and find nothing of importance. At least no one talked to him much. That was fine with him.
The sky was beautiful as always. It was still dark out, but no star sparkled in the sky. The sun hadn't come up yet, but specks of light could already be seen on the horizon. Clouds dotted the sky, and a large gray storm cloud loomed in the distance ominously. He should probably head up to the bridge and steer them away from the death trap....
Something in the distance caught his eye; a glint of metal in a nearby cloud. Squinting his eyes for a closer look, he could've sworn he saw the figure of a ship. Grabbing the shoulder of a nearby sellsword, -- who just so happened to be Keth Ironhand himself, a gray Earth Pony with an orange mane -- he gestured wordlessly toward the direction of the cloud. His widening eyes confirmed William's suspicions. Immediately, Keth grappled for his war horn, and blew on the instrument with lungs that any opera singer would be jealous of, signalling for every mercenary on deck to drop what they were doing and form up in a defensive position. At once, every single Man, Woman, and pony rushed to the main deck, ready to fight for their lives--
--And then an explosion rocked the ship.
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He had them. Harkun finally had them. Once and for all, he could put an end to this eternity chase and finally return home. He could finally put chains around every single one of their arms and hoofs, and ship them off to the Stockade. Unless, of course, the Court decided to have them publicly executed as a demonstration of power or an example. Either way, they weren't moving an inch further. A sense of pride and utmost loyalty filled him. Pride, because he'd finally caught the bastards who had caused him so much trouble; his own crew threatening mutiny, his Secondary Admiral using an old code in an attempt to usurp the position of admiral; being forced to go through storms and lose half of his fleet. Loyalty because he didn't choose to desert when he perfectly had the chance to. Honest-to-gods admirals' were hard to come by these days. He would get a medal for this, and maybe even a shot at a chair in High Command. Gods... that sounded amazing! He could finally make a significant difference in how the military was composed! He could finally do something in ways of reform! Perhaps he could have a shot at the High Chamberlain, or maybe even... Chancellor.... Yes....
Of course, there are two sides to every argument. A revolutionary was no exception. He certainly had to agree with them that the government was corrupt, but to ignite a bloody war over it? It was a terrible idea!
But yet, the Higher-Ups, the Council themselves, refused to do anything about it. They denied the rape, the unjust evictions, the destruction that so many under the Chancellor's nose committed. Corruption was rampant among the Hegemony, and change needed to be done. But what of peaceful, annual change? Why senseless, barbaric warfare, that would leave so many wives and husbands without their partners and children? It was pointless, and would lead them only to ruin. It happened with the Achedyians several thousand years ago, so what's to say that it wouldn't happen now? The war was on their hoofs and hands, not the Hegemony.
...Was it? Was it truly?
"Sir!" A female human officer called out to him. Apparently, he had been lost in thought for quite some time. "Your orders, commander?" The human asked the charcoal-grey Earth Pony.
Harkun looked at the stolen ship in front of his fleet. Should he really do this? Should he-
Once again, his thoughts were interrupted by something. An explosion, emanating from the ship's engine, filled the sky with smoke and fire, ultimately halting the ship in its tracks. Well, it certainly looked like he had no other choice but to leave them there to starve to death, or take them into custody. Either way, they would most likely die.
He blinked, shaking his head once again of any personal thought. "Tell the strike force to move in. Full attack."
"Yessir!"
"And deckhand?" Harkun added. "Tell Captain Brown to make sure he takes them alive. I don't want to see a scratch on any of them, otherwise he's stripped of his rank and exiled."
"Yessir!" The deckhand rushed off to gods-know-where, leaving Harkun in the bridge to consider his actions as he watched six transports hover close to the airship, each carrying about twenty soldiers preparing to board the frigate. If the assault failed somehow, Harkun would most likely order two of his fleet to move in. One, without a doubt, would be commanded by Jak Groven, a unicorn who had actually been part of the very group they were chasing. If his story was true, then they left him to die. How he got out of that situation, and even managed to climb his way up the chain of command to Secondary Admiral was beyond Harkun.
Finally, he had them. After six months, threat of mutiny, his own Assistant Admiral Jak nearly taking command of the fleet, ravaging storms, suicides, and murders, he finally had them.
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Keth breathed heavily at the shock of being thrown to the ground by the force of the entire ship rocking. His ears rung, and his side that he was thrown to hurt quite a bit. He could hear the whir of the small skiffs flying toward the edge of the ship to drop their payload of soldiers off. He could hear his own company scrambling to their feet and hooves, grabbing their weapons, shouting taunts. For a second, just a second, he considered to just remain laying there, acting like he was dead. But that thought was quickly replaced by the sound of a ship hitting the edge of the hull, and war cries piercing the air. Fighting had already begun on the ship, the clang of metal on metal ringing through the air. His own men were fighting ruthlessly against the Hegemony attackers along the entire frigate. Keth grappled for his spear, gripping it with his forehoof as he launched himself upward and into the fray. He thrusted forward, lodging the brass tip through the armor of an unsuspecting stallion. He retracted the pole-arm, swinging it like it were an axe into the shaft of another spear. Immediately, he recoiled, ducking under a sword. He spun 360 degrees, sweeping the hooves of his assailants with the butt of his spear, knocking them all to the ground. Wasting no time, be plunged his spear forward into one's neck through a chink in their armor, killing them instantly. The second was faster, however, and had already scrambled up, a short sword in hand.
The marine lunged forward, sword pointed straight at Keth. The mercenary captain hoisted his spear upward, catching the sword point with the rod of his spear. With a flick of his hoof, his attacker stumbled back. Keth lunged forward for a counter attack, stabbing his spear forward. The enemy marine jumped to the side at the last moment, leaving Keth stabbing at nothing. Immediately, the Hegemony soldier slashed his blade from left to right, his blade barely being parried by a rod of darkwood. He did not relent, however, and immediately went on the offensive. He slashed, and stabbed, forcing Keth back farther and farther. After what seemed like an eternity of a duel, with the marine's plumed helmet -- the mark of a captain -- knocked off of his head, his blue cape torn, revealing a dark-red-coated stallion with a light brown mane, Keth's spear was knocked out of his hoof. Instinctively, his hoof went straight to his belt for his blade, unsheathing the weapon. He fought like a true Forian with his opposing captain, slashing and swinging his blade like a madman. The two were locked in an epic battle, the battle cries of the dozens of men and clash of metal music to go with the fight. The Hegemony captain's cape flew in the wind of a nearby storm cloud, his dark armor teeming with spots of water. Blood trickled down from his forehead, mingling with the rain water flooding the wooded deck.
Keth was, clearly, wounded as well. He had a cut across his cheek; his right forehoof sore from the strain of constant movement. They were both exhausted, panting as they sized each other up, inspecting each other's wounds that the other had crafted. Keth took a moment to quickly shoot a glance at the ensuing battle around them. William was dueling with a young lass of a pegasus; Jade was holding her own against three attackers; Maxwell was just cutting through so many like butter before him, hardly breaking a sweat; Xalek was nowhere to be found. His own party were fighting like lions; a single one could take on a dozen at once. Still, it was a bloody battle for both sides. Limbs flew; cries of pain pierced the air, only to be silenced a moment later; the deck had taken on a red hue as blood mixed with water. Lightning cried out around them, the sound of thunder only intensifying the desperation of the battle. Keth flinched slightly at the sound of each and every thunderclap. He hated loud noises.
Surveying the battlefield, he noticed that his own allies were being pushed back, slowly but surely. Sooner or later, they would all fall. With a twitch of irritation, he decided that acting now would be the best choice.
Keth launched himself at the stallion, catching him off guard. He didn't even need his weapon; his powerful hooves did the work for him. He gripped the stallion by the throat, hoisted him up in the air, and threw him forward into another Hegemony marine. He wouldn't be getting up anytime soon.
Keth reached down for his blade, and discovered a sharp pain in his chest, and the feeling of something warm drizzle out of it. A wound. The enemy captain had somehow managed to stab him in the chest.
Keth winced in pain as he put his left forehoof up to the wound. Thankfully, it didn't feel too deep, nor was the pain great enough to be a puncture of a vein. He would live, thankfully. Unless, of course, he didn't survive this battle. And he may still have a brush with death as several more marines charged straight for him.
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William had managed to hold on to something the second the explosion rocked the ship, sending almost everyone to the deck. He wasn't sure how he'd actually managed to act quick enough to steady himself, but he wasn't complaining.
In an instant, he took out a small brass tube with a variety of buttons on it. As the small carriers slowly approached his position, he put his left foreleg in front of him, his hind legs behind him in such a way as to give him a small burst of speed forward. The soldiers on the skiffs let out their war cries as their carriers were brought right next to the skiff; enough for jumping space. The mercenaries around William scrambled to their feet just as the Hegemony boarders leapt. Some of his slower allies were killed on the ground, some were overwhelmed, and some fought back. Soon, fighting erupted throughout the ship on either side, spreading across the length of the ship. Soon, swords and spears were heard clanging through the air.
As soon as the attackers jumped, William pressed the largest button on the tube in his right hoof, and a spear point jutted out almost instantly. Simultaneously, he propelled himself forward, driving the tip into the chest of a human male. He pressed the button again, and the spear retracted into the tube. Inching backwards, the Earth Pony pressed the button again, and the spear appeared once again, still dripping with fresh blood. He lowered the polearm in a defensive position, ready to defend himself.
So, of course, instead of an Earth Pony, the fist of military power, attacking him, a pegasus tackled him to the ground. His spear rolled out of his grip onto the deck, which, he noticed, was now wet. Probably due to the large black cloud they were inside now. Cold droplets of water fell upon William's face, making his already moppy dark brown mane become even messier. Somehow.
He had no idea where the pegasus came from, but he knew that he -- she, damn it -- had thoroughly surprised him, and was now raising a sword to-
Oh fuck.
He quickly rolled out from under her, knocking her off of her hooves, and grappled for his Ko-Hai blade in its scabbard. The curved, slender, single-edged blade with the circular guard slid out of the scabbard with a vicious shhsk, cold rain water already dripping off the metal. He barely had time to parry her first reckless attack toward him.
The two exchanged a few quick blows before locking blades, trying to force the other back. Their heads were mere inches away from each other. To William's irritation, she was actually, well, cute. And coming from William, that was quite an achievement. She had wide, light hazel eyes, a short auburn mane, darkened by the rain, a coat only a slight bit lighter than William's own, and what was, without a doubt, her most defining feature.
Freckles.
The goddamned spots dotted either sides of her face. It definitely contrasted with that fact that she held a face of fury: her teeth clenched and eyebrows creased, both of her eyes staring straight into William's electric blue.
The Earth Pony had been staring at her for far too long. With a start, she quickly broke the lock, and rushed him with a flurry of quick, vicious attacks. She thrusted forward with her own blade, keeping William on his guard. As she stabbed forward toward his chest, he brought his blade up to quickly intercept hers. Before he could counterattack, she would disengage and slash or stab or swing again. She was quick. But so was William.
Sort of. Not really.
She feigned a slash to his side, and William instantly brought his blade into a blocking position. Instead, she withdrew the blade, and stabbed his right shoulder. The Earth Pony let out a shriek of pain as the blade stabbed his side. His vision blurred slightly. Had she stabbed his heart, or near it? Maybe.
All he knew is that he wasn't going down without a fight.
He redoubled his efforts, using the last of his strength to force her on her own guard. She walked backwards as she defended against his attacks. He slashed downward, and the pegasus mare barely had time to bring her blade up as he used his gift of strength to force her down. She quickly leapt to the side, and William was left swinging down at air. She swung her sword sideways, trying to cause more damage to his right side than she already did. The blade was met with William's thin single-edged counterpart. Immediately, he slipped the blade behind hers, and, with a flick of his hoof, he had her stumbling forward. He delivered a quick slash to her left side, including her wing; a fitting repayment.
Gods, this hurts, William angrily mentally regarded his ride side. I probably won't be able to lift a sword for a while.
She shrieked in agony as her fail-safe was disabled. She reared back on him, and once again, the two fought like hell.
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Xalek took in the scene for a moment. The deck was utter chaos. The Hegemony had appeared to have constructed some makeshift carriers, and deposited a load of marines onto the ship. A deathly melee had broken out, with Keth's company of seventy fighting with the wrath of the gods on their side. Keth himself was fighting several soldiers at once, and still emerging victorious against every one who dared oppose him. Maxwell was cutting through a countless amount of the enemy without much as a parry or a duck, and only a gash across his cheek to show for it. Jade, Max's sister, was holding her own against three soldiers -- two men and one Earth Pony. And the boy, William, was fighting a single mare pegasus. He had blood dripping down his right side, while she had a cut across her left.
Overall, it was chaos. Pure chaos, death, and destruction. Xalek had to lean on his staff for support, his long black-grey mane falling carelessly downward. He sighed, stood upright, let his sapphire-blue eyes scan the battlefield once more, and prepared to leap.
But he was forgetting something.
The magical concentration he discovered not too long ago.
Testing his theory, he permitted the magic entry into his systems. It flowed through him like wine through a belly, and felt twice as good. He felt twenty years younger already! His horn glowed a dark blue, along with his Gem of Power in his staff, and he shot out a bolt toward a nearby soldier. It killed him instantly.
A glint appeared in Xalek's eyes. A glint he hadn't had since he had discovered his keen aptitude in magic. A glint that appeared whenever he felt like something fun was about to happen. A glint that meant that he could finally let loose. A glint that meant he had access to one thing: power.
He leapt from the quarterdeck as dramatically as possible. Blue beams of light followed him, and shot out toward the attacking party, ignoring the sellswords. In several flashes of sapphire, the Hegemony forces had been reduced significantly. He swung his staff, and a ray of magic shot out, catching a man square in the chest, knocking him off the ship entirely. Maxwell had caught on, and both his Gem of Power and horn glowed orange. With several flashes of blue and orange magic, the entire Hegemony party was reduced to nothing but piles of bodies.
Except for one. The mare dueling William, who was still dueling him, despite her comrades falling around her. The two were locked still in a duel, neither gaining any ground on one another. Everyone gathered round, cheering the fight on as they watched the two fight it out. They didn't even seem to mind, let alone notice.
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Combat! Aurea Sarvia thought to herself as the carrier neared the ship. Finally!
The pegasus had been bored out of her mind aboard the Steel Hand, endlessly going through drill after drill after drill after drill after... well, yeah. You get it. She was bored. And now she could finally spice up her life. The auburn maned, light brown, freckled mare was practically jumping in excitement as the carrier flew closer and closer. Now, she could finally put her combat skills to the test. She had, obviously, excelled in hand-to-hand combat, and was one of the best fighters on the ship, considering how new she was to the military.
She glanced up at the significantly taller stallion next to her with a smile plastered across her face. He just glared down at her. Ah, whatever. Veterans are no fun.
She looked back at the ship that drew nearer and nearer just in time to see an explosion rock the entire ship, along with the carrier. She had literally no idea where it came from, but she knew one thing....
It just made her job significantly easier.
That, and it was raining.
Aww.
The carrier smashed into the side of the ship; lo and behold a sight for sore eyes. The entire runaway crew was either still on the ground or trying to scramble upwards as the Hegemony marines darted off of their transports and onto the deck. Several crewmen fell while still on the ground. Still, the rest quickly scrambled up, gripping their weapons, and charged into the fray.
In front of Aurea, a stallion was in a sort of... 'crouching' position. As a man in front of her leapt forward onto the deck, however, a spear point jutted out of his back, and immediately retracted. Aurea was pretty sure it was the work of the stallion. She spread her wings, finally getting the chance to use them, and launched around the spear that was the stallion's weapon and tackled him. She raised her own blade, preparing to bring it down upon him, only to be swept off of her feet.
No, not like that.
The stallion rolled out from under her, drawing a blade that... well, she had no idea what kind of sword it was. She just knew it was a sword. And swords are, of course, meant for fighting. Combat!
She launched herself at the stallion, and the two locked blades, only made more dramatic with the addition of a lighting strike and a clap of thunder.
The stallion was... something. Not ugly, not handsome, not dashingly handsome, not -oh-my-gods-sweep-me-off-my-feet handsome, just... something. He had wide, lightning-blue eyes, a light brown coat and a dark brown mane, several various small cuts along his face, a rather short stature, hardly any taller that Aurea herself, but, most importantly, he looked young. Almost as young as Aurea. Regardless of age similarities, however, they were still enemies. And enemies fight.
She let out a soft growl and clenched her teeth before going on the offensive. His reaction time certainly needed work, but it was enough to keep himself from any serious wounds.
Sort of.
She feigned an attack to his left side and, while he shifted his blade to block her assault, quickly shoved her sword through his right shoulder. He let out a shriek of pain, and redoubled his attacks against her. Soon, the two were locked in an epic duel. He eventually ended up slashing her left side. Apparently, getting your wing slashed hurts.
A lot.
Still, she held her ground, and the two, both wounded, were once again dueling to the death. She didn't even notice that every one of her comrades were felled to magic around her.
She slashed sideways. He blocked the attack, pushing against the blade. He back-hoofed her head, and she stumbled. She barely had time to bring her blade up as he delivered an overhead slash that very nearly could've spilled the contents of her head upon the floor. She pushed against his surprising lack of strength for an Earth Pony and slashed to the left. She clipped his right shoulder, the very tip of her blade making a small incision that would probably only sting for a while, but it's a start.
Suddenly, Aurea felt a sudden pain in the back of her head, her weapon being wrenched out of her hoof, and her head meeting a wooden floor.
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Maxwell watched in astonishment as Xalek slew so many with magic, shooting beams of blue light that enveloped their targets, sending them tumbling to the floor. Dozens of the projectiles arced out from the Master Unicorn's horn, easily killing so many.
Wait, he pondered. How can he use magic? Unless...
Maxwell tapped into the feeling he usually ignored; the feeling of magic. Normally, it would be a faint one, or none at all. But, to his bewilderment, it was strong; stronger than ever before. Stronger than anything any pockets of magic in Iynia had to offer. Stronger than even Carti magic. Stronger than, dare he say it, the Circle of the Three Alicorns?... No, their power was absolute. Nothing could stand up to them.
Silently cursing himself for thinking he could stand up to the sheer strength of alicorn magic, he opened the floodgates and allowed the strong magic to flow through him.
He... massively underestimated how powerful the magic actually was. It felt like a massive lake -- no, an ocean, breaking through a dam, flowing freely through out a massive plain. And it just kept coming. At first, he felt pain, but then, he felt bliss. Bliss and strength. Pure, unrelenting strength, flowing through his veins and mind. The fresh, clean substance went to every part of his body, filling up his horn, his brain, his heart, his hoofs. And there was still plenty more where that came from.
He hadn't felt this great in... forever.
With as little but a blink, he easily killed a Hegemony soldier charging straight at him in a flash of bright orange light.
Oh, this will be fun.
He ran about, shouting gleefully, singing crazily, as he and Xalek slaughtered the Hegemony marines like the filthy pigs they were. He was everywhere and nowhere at once, shooting bolts of orange power that would either throw the invaders overboard or kill them on the spot, combat magic seeping its way into their bodies and shutting down their systems, or simply frying their insides. The Hegemony transports were blown to bits as their pilots tried desperately to escape in vain, their metal hulls bending and melting before expanding in a small explosion under the pressure of powerful magic. The entire Hegemony war party was dead or dying, felled to powerful magic and Iynian steel and brass.
Except for one.
A pegasus, a young pegasus mare, was dueling Maxwell's brother, William, oblivious to the fact that her assault had failed. The lad and lass dueled ferociously, both of them wounded severely. William had both several cuts on his face and armor, as well as a deep wound in his right shoulder. The lass's face bore similar wounds, and her left wing was broken and bloodied. The remaining Forian Bessur's, Keth's sellsword party, surrounded the dueling pair, stamping their hooves, feet and spears against the deck, cheering the two on. Maxwell himself watched for a few moments, the magic inside of him urging to be used, watching his little brother fight the fairly 'cute' pegasus. The two were locked in a vicious duke of death, their targets only their opponent and their opponent only.
It only took a cut on William's cheek to send Maxwell's magic making a beeline toward the mare.
The impact hit the back of her head, arcing along her body until it reached her hoof. The sword fell out of her grip as if someone were actually forcing it away, and she crumpled to the ground. Whether she was dead or not, Maxwell did not know; the attack was, by all means, not intended, and therefore was not intended to be a lethal bolt. His horn and gem simply responded to the slight disruption of his neural brainwaves, and had acted on its own accord.
Nevertheless, she would no longer be a problem either way.
The warship flying straight toward them, however, was.
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Jak Groven, former Iynian revolutionary and current secondary admiral to the 5th Royal Hegemony fleet, stood inside the bridge of the Asgir, a first-rate steel warship, watching the chaos unfold upon the deck of the small wooded frigate before him. He'd instructed his crew to stand by for orders, ready to act the second a syllable escaped his mouth. With orders from Harkun or not, he was getting his revenge one way or the other. Whether watching his once friends-turned-enemies fall to the earth in a smoldering wreck that was once a ship, or staring at them in chains, a sneer upon his face, he would get his revenge.
They left him to die, alone, broken, bleeding, on the brink of death, as a distraction! He was a diversion, just so they could save their own pitiful lives! But, however, he had been... shall we say, "enlightened" during his time laying there, bleeding his contents out. He'd come to realize something: nothing could overcome the Hegemony. It was a futile effort to take up arms against ones own country. One should remain loyal to the end, unto the last breath, till death did them part from this world.
Poetic, yes, but it still held its weight as a statement. One must remain loyal to ones services, otherwise they are traitors. And traitors must burn at the stake, watching their flesh burn before them as they came to the revelation that they had made a mistake.
It was his connections and his family's position in the government that saved his life.
His parents were distinguished aristocrats, high in the chain of power in the Hegemony government. They always had hope that Jak would one day be redeemed of his... heretic thoughts. When he had appeared before them, bloodied, but with a certain fire in his eyes, they accepted him with open arms as their son. With their influence, and his clever trickery and cunning, he'd managed to secure himself the position of Secondary Admiral to the 5th Fleet.
However, that wasn't enough for him. He wanted something more: Admiral of the Fleet. And finding a way to either convict Harkun of treason or get him kicked out of office, where he would no longer be a threat, was exactly how he would do this. Harkun was a fool, a hesitant, indecisive fool, who believed in mercy and the whole 'two sides of the coin' deal to everything. Always with the honest route, that was Harkun. He never held a knife to a back, or had thrown a bag of coin on a desk with a note attached, or had mysteriously made a rowdy politician disappear. And, somehow, he'd managed to secure himself Grand Admiral of the 5th Fleet like this! Inconceivable! He did not belong in that chair, or wielding that tasseled sword that far surpassed the beauty and elegance of Jak's own complimentary Secondary Admiral's cutlass. No, Jak needed to be seated there, an entire fleet at his command.
Several times he'd nearly managed to get Harkun either killed or disgraced, but all times he had failed. This time, however, the plan was foolproof. If and when Harkun ordered his fleet to converge upon the vessel, Jak had specifically ordered his crew to 'misinterpret' the orders and open fire upon the frigate, sending the fugitives to an eternity in hell. This, combined with the lack of seizing the advantage and taking unnecessary losses in the field of battle, along with a coin purse for assurance, would surely get Harkun out of office and Jak into his former superior's position.
Such is the land of politics, and such is the way it must be executed. Politics is a necessary evil for this world.
Of course, he hadn't accounted for the sudden magical phenomenon occurring on deck of the stolen frigate, with bright flashes of blue and orange light filling the stormy sky, but nevertheless, everything would go according to plan.
But wait, he realized, magic? How?
He briefly delved into the back of his mind, where the floodgates were holding back a massive ocean of magic. It was strong, stronger than anything he had ever seen. However, he did not approve of magic, and kept the gates closed against it. Magic was pointless, stupid. Steel, brass, and smoke, that was replacing magic nowadays. Not to mention that magic had left Iynia so many thousands of years ago, save for a small portion of it hanging around.
It was pointless against a steel death machine, raining fire from above and below.
"Sir!" A deckhand cried out. "We're receiving a transmission from Admiral Harkun, sir!"
"Put him through," Jak commanded. Soon, the voice of Admiral Jaeus Harkun came out of the intercom in front of Jak.
"Jak," Harkun said, the Grovan flinching as the admiral didn't use his proper rank name, "I'm giving you a shot. Move in and converge upon the enemy. Remain cautious. They have magic on their side; a few unicorns on deck have reported feeling several years younger, that's how strong it is."
A smile tugged upon the Secondary Admiral's face. "Yes, admiral. As you ordered." Then, in a foreboding, menacing tone: "Exactly as you ordered."
Let's see if the fool can interpret that, Jak mentally cackled to himself.
"Good. Harkun: out." And the intercom crackled back into its static, default form.
"Your orders, sir?" A navigation officer next to Jak asked.
"Prepare the turrets. Load the crank guns full of cartridges. Prepare to commence a full scale bombardment upon the enemy. Send them burning unto hell!"
"Yes sir!"
The order was shouted into an intercom, echoing across the entire ship. Soon, Jak's former allies would be no more than a smoldering pile of wood and bodies. Jak would have his vengeance, and he would have his new seat. All was going according to plan.
A clap of thunder only emphasized the weight of Jak's plan, announcing the entire ship moving forward.
The metal war machine cut through the air nimbly, its guns locked and loaded, ready to unleash hell itself.
====================
Back on the frigate, our revolutionaries are watching in fear as the warship descended upon them, its guns trained on their fragile hull. Each man, woman, mare, and stallion looked at one another, utter defeat planted in their eyes. The rain and lightning only strengthened the hopelessness of their situation.
The steel beast was soon right next to them, its massive figure overshadowing the tiny frigate. Then, as one, guns popped out of hatches from the hull, and unleashed hell.
The wooden ship cracked and splintered, catching fire as it slowly died. However, Maxwell and Xalek managed to erect a crude magical shield with their new-found magical power. Of course, it could only stand so long against the sheer power of Iynian gunpowder. Several shells passed through the shield and straight into the hull of the ship.
"Ever wondered how airships managed to stay in the air without balloons?"
"Sh. I'm telling the story here."
"Fine."
No one noticed a certain female pegasus, wounded from battle, painfully fly through the bombardment with a broken wing and onto the deck of the Asgir, effectively saving her life, in a way.
Soon, the ship took a nosedive, with magic spiraling around it, straight towards the land below.
But this land, however, is a familiar place to all of you.
Equestria.
They were crashing into Equestria.
"Quantum physics."
"What?"
"You asked how a ship stays in the air. The answer is quantum physics."
"Sounds complicated."
"It is."
Chapter 2: Across the Sea and the Battle Above
Meanwhile, in the Hegemony capital....
A young man with a recruit's uniform ran through the halls of the military complex, waving something in his hand and stumbling over his own feet. Several people and equines jumped to get out of his way, knowing all too well the seriousness of the letter in the boy's hand. Some of the slower ones were ushered to the walls by their comrades, or grabbed by guards and forced to the wall as the courier hurried through the halls.
"Make way!" He squeaked. "I have an important message for Lord Gerwynn! Urgent business! Out of my way! Nice hat! I like your shoes!"
He ran up a long set of stairs flanked by elite guards and appeared before a moderate-sized set of gold-rimmed double doors. Without stopping, he barreled straight toward it. The guards made movements implying that they would open the doors for him, but it was too late. At the speed he was going, and the fact that the guards were moving too slowly....
...He faceplanted onto the door.
Recruits....
A muffled "Enter..." could be heard inside.
The two guards next to the over zealous man chuckled to themselves before peeling the messenger off the door and opening the entrance to Lord Gerwynn's office, shoving him in.
The office itself was fairly large, with a large window behind the desk over viewing the Hegemony capital island-city of Blackwall, its massive buildings reaching up into the sky like fingers, trying to grasp the sacred place. The entire city spread as far as the eye could see for miles around. To the far west lay the private factories of the island, their smoke clearly seen even from here. There, products for the rich and poor alike (not that there were any poor in Blackwall, this was the safest place on Equis, only the richest of the rich could afford living here) were produced, either to be shipped off to the city itself or to the main continent of Iynia. Squadrons of soldiers patrolled the streets and the foot of the entire military complex, staying alert and ready to deter any threats thrown against them. In the skies, airships flew about, keeping the skies safe of any and all aerial threats.
Inside the office itself sat a desk in the center, with papers cluttering around it. At the chair behind the desk sat an aging man with white hair and a short, white beard. He wore a simple gray jacket, and around his neck was a necklace of a winged blade; the symbol of Commander-in-Chief of all active military forces. His head lay in his hands, his eyes closed. His chest heaved lightly. It didn't take a genius to know that he was in a very delicate state of mind at the moment.
"Erm... maybe I should come back later...." The courier mumbled, already making his way towards the door.
Instantly, Lord Gerwynn's head shot up, revealing a pair of intense green eyes locking onto the boy. "No, no, it's... quite alright. Come, come. Relay me your message. My eyes aren't what they used to be."
The young soldier gulped, already regretting his choice of action. "Y-yes sir..." he mumbled, fumbling with breaking the official seal for a moment before opening the envelope and taking out a letter. He cleared his throat, breathed deeply to calm himself for a few moments and spoke.
Gerwynn's already desolate expression darkened as the boy read the contents of the letter. When he was finished, the Commander-in-Chief remained silent for a few moments, before asking: "How long?"
The courier blinked. "Err... what... sir?"
Gerwynn sighed deeply. "How long ago did this happen?!"
"Oh! Uhm... a-about half an hour ago..."
Gerwynn immediately got up out of his seat, and stared out the window, his elderly hands behind his back. "I knew I should've told Harkun to stop his foolish chase before it was too late, I just knew it...." He let out another deep sigh.
"Erm... s-sir?...." The boy stammered. "T-they told me to ask you what you wished to do now, what with... erm..."
The elderly commander turned back to the boy instantly. "For now, nothing. We wait before sending a scouting party to search for them."
"O-of course, sir...."
"Good. Now," he gestured toward the door, "I do believe you have a report to give?...."
"Oh!" The boy realized, rushing outside the door, only pausing to give a slight bow before running down the hall again. Gerwynn paid him no notice, however, turning his attention back to the window.
The life of a Commander-in-Chief... what a life. He'd been elected his position due to his actions in acquiring the location of the rebel army in the Grand Iynian Civil War from a defect and his actions at the Battle of Pyra. Ah, what a day, leading the troops at Pyra....
He was younger then. He didn't look like he was a seventy year old man. Stress had aged his outside shell severely. In reality, he was only forty-three, but he looked seventy-six. Being a commander-in-Chief of all forces did that to a person. No wonder the last one resigned after only six months in the chair. He didn't ask for the chair, either. If this is what the Commander-in-Chief had to go through, gods help the Chancellor....
Gerwynn sighed. First, he had to deal with the Itemerians going on one of their many strikes. Then, the Grakari refuse to act against the rioters burning down Hegemony garrisons. And now?
The entire 5th 5th Royal Fleet just disappeared, all at once.
==================
Aboard the Asgir....
Jak watched with glee as the flaming wreck descended to the earth below. Stage one of his plan was now complete. All he had to do was send a message to the capital reporting Harkun's disorderly conduct, and receive a field promotion! Just the mere thought of something that was going to take place just a few moments from now filled the middle-aged man with excitement.
"Sir!" An ensign awoke him from his fantasy. "We're receiving a transmission from the admiral!"
"Block it," Jak commanded almost immediately. "And send a report to the capital as planned. Now, ensign."
"Yessir!"
The ensign punched in a few buttons before her hand fell upon a single red button. She hesitated for a moment, considering what she was putting on the line, but nevertheless slammed her hand upon the button, essentially sending a message to the capital dictating everything Harkun had done wrong and demanding an emergency field promotion of Jak Groven.
That was what would've been sent, had it actually gone through.
A small red light bleeped, basically saying that the message didn't make it. The ensign blinked in surprise, sensing Jak's eyes on the back of her head, before running her hands over the same buttons once again, and slamming her fist down on the red button once again.
The red light bleeped.
She gulped. "S-sir..." she stammered. "The message isn't going through...."
Jak let out a deep sigh as he rubbed his temples. This... he didn't account for this. To make matters worse, Harkun's own officers forced their transmission through, and his voice filled the bridge of the Asgir.
"What the hell have you done?!" The angry voice of Harkun spluttered immediately. "I did not say to open fire! I said to board and take the fugitives into custody! What you have done is an exact violation of-"
"Correction, Jaeus," Jak interrupted his ranting superior. "You commanded me to converge on the vessel at hand, and so I did. You did not offer specifics, and so therefore, I simply followed your unclear commands."
"You knew what I meant, Groven," Harkun said, his voice dripping with frustration. "You disobeyed a direct order from a superior, destroyed our quarry, ruining the mission, jeopardized the safety of every man, woman, stallion, and mare in this entire fleet numerous times, murdered and back stabbed anyone who dared stand in your way, and you treat your superior with disrespect?! With the authority of the Code and my own rank as your superior officer, I strip you of your rank. Your first mate shall take control of the ship, and you shall be thrown in the brig while we make our way to the capital to perform your trial."
The smile that had planted itself on Jak's face dropped immediately. Of course... he'd forgotten that Harkun had the authority. But, the Code be damned, he wasn't letting a book written millennia ago stop him now!
"Cut off the transmission," he ordered, despite his reprimand and ordered imprisonment.
You see, Jak had managed to acquire himself a large group of followers. Whether it be coercion, persuasion, promises of power never to be fulfilled, bags of gold, or just plain loyalty by his lackeys, he had about 75% of the fleet -- about 37 ships of a 50 strong fleet -- in his pocket. And they would gladly fight for him.
In theory, of course.
"Order my followers to raise the flag and open fire on any and all not flying the colors before retreating to my position. The time has come at last."
Above Equestria, a battle was unfolding.
Immediately, fifteen ships raised a flag of a phoenix, flying above a burning landscape. Five more raised it after a moment of hesitation. The rest of Jak's followers, however, refused, all too paranoid of what might become of them.
Jak's soldiers prepared their guns and opened fire upon Harkun's loyalists. A few of the smaller ships just plain exploded under the pressure of several hundred cannons and bullets ripping through their fragile hulls in a shower of fire and sparks. Immediately, Harkun ordered his fleet to return fire. He, thankfully for him, had the only carrier of the fleet on his side. Hundreds of small fighters launched as one, grazing the hulls and decks of Jak's ships with bullets filled with volatile Iynian gunpowder, encased in brass cartridges by the thousands. Some were shot down by crank-guns, some divebombed onto the decks, and some had pilots wise enough to know how and when to dodge, spin, and flip. Some ships boarded one another, initiating a deadly melee.
Both sides exchanged fire, but the battle was clearly tipping onto Harkun's side. Along with numbers, he had one of the best ships in the fleet: a capital ship. The massive beast could easily take on about ten second-rates and emerge victorious, albeit with a bit of damage. Harkun's flagship, the Concordia, fired a seemingly endless hail of cannon shot and stream of bullets, ripping apart several of Jak's ships.
Jak and his own ship remained on the sidelines, not daring to risk his own life. The middle-aged man observed the ensuing battle from his ship, his expression indifferent as he tracked one of his own ships exploding in a flaming wreck. He issued occasional orders to each and every of his ships, despite the hopeless chances he had.
"Order the Dauntless to fly around the side, and initiate a full salvo onto the enemy flank."
"Open fire on the Derchios. Cannon shot only. Save the bullets for the fighters."
"Command the Flamewheel to fire a full broadside on the Derchios. Bring it down."
Orders like these would make sure that Harkun, unfamiliar with proper strategies and tactics, would take as many losses as possible before forcing Jak to retreat.
Finally, the order came.
"Full retreat to the north. Make sure that every ship initiates full speed mode."
Immediately, the sixteen remaining warships on Jak's side turned about to a northern position, seizing fire and entering full speed mode, their engineers working effortlessly to keep the engines from setting fire. Harkun couldn't keep up with Jak, and ordered each of his own ships to regroup and fall back. The remaining fighters landed back onto their carrier. Deckhands scurried about, repairing ships or recovering the wounded or dead. In total, Harkun had lost about 300-400, and 6 of his own ships, while Jak had lost a meager 79-100 and 4 of his own ships. The battle itself was a strategic and tactical victory for Jak, despite him fleeing from the field.
A power struggle had just erupted over Equestria, and, unbeknownst to the inhabitants, it would lead to something grand.
