Blackheart

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.