Chapter III: Standoff

For the first time since this had started, Morning Sky had a good look at their attacker.  He was an older gryphon, with a head of white feathers that were starting to grey.  His steely eyes had a yellow color to their irises that looked a bit unhealthy.  Brown feathers tipped in off-white filled out the plumage of his wings, although a few seemed to be missing here and there.  However ill those aspects of his appearance were, though, his body was covered in plate armor bearing runes of shielding, and it made him cut an intimidating figure.  His beak glinted in the poor lighting of his vessel’s bridge, looking sharp enough to cut something.  And there was that heavy, inelegant but sharp-looking sword that Morning could guess wasn’t just for show.

“I will repeat my offer,” he rasped.  “If you surrender, we will only take your cargo.  If you continue to defy us, I promise your ship and your crew will not survive.”

Somehow, she managed to maintain her scowl.  Inwardly, her mind raced.  The griffons had them outnumbered, sure, but if they could keep ahead they could still evade them.  They just had to keep ahead for another ten minutes, they were sure to run into the Harbor Guard’s patrols by then.

And you’re willing to risk the lives of your entire crew on that?  Morning Sky fought to keep the grimace off her face.  This was a freighter, not a warbird.  She’d run their luck so far already it was a miracle Sand didn’t decide to throw her off the helm and take command.  Now there were three ships ready to fire on them, and two were straight ahead.  Their situation was untenable.  They were trapped.

“Very well,” she finally said in a low voice.  A moment’s hesitation and she raised her voice a little, to make sure he could hear, “we will come to a full stop, and permit your boarding action.”

The griffon’s face twisted into a malicious smile, and she suppressed a shudder.  There was some almost manic quality to that smile that left Morning Sky even more on edge than before.  The captain got up from his chair, brushing some papers at his side and sending them falling to the floor.  A dark-feathered griffon in armor at his right moved forward silently to pick them up as the Captain walked closer to the viewscreen.  His eyes fixed on her with an obvious contempt, and he finally spoke.

“Good.  Now, stop your vessel, and we will make this quick, and let you run to the Harbor.  See?  I am quite generous.  Now, prepare your vessel to be boarded, I do not have all day.”

Morning Sky looked to her right, opened a panel, and pulled a crystal out from where it was inset.  The freighter shuddered almost imperceptibly as the engines below them died.  At her side, Copper Sand ran his hoof along a set of runes, the controls for the sails.  Outside the hull, the sails’ enchantments were retuned on command, no longer catching the currents outside for speed.  The freighter was moving along solely on momentum now.

Guiding the ship along with the aid of the projection at her side—the griffon captain still had not relinquished use of their viewscreen—Morning Sky almost missed the faint tapping coming from Moon Crystal’s direction.  It seemed random at first, and it was only while she gave the forward directional thrusters a light tap to slow their momentum that Morning realized there was a pattern to them.  Her ears perked up as she listened, trying not to betray any other emotion.

Most equine ships outside of the Empire did not have the funds for an expensive, magically-engineered intercom system, capable of translating language, much less speech.  Most had to make do with telegraphs instead, and all ship-dwelling ponies knew at least one code to translate the device’s pulses into letters and words.  Haven Rock Standard was perhaps the most common—so ubiquitous it was often nicknamed “Horse Code” for its heavy use on equine ships—and Morning Sky knew it by heart, like everyone else on the ship.  Morning Sky listened raptly, desperately hoping for any advice Moon Crystal could offer right now.

“I left the cannoli in the eggplant.”

“What.”  She forgot to add the question mark, but it got the point across.

“Wha.”  Nova Light forgot to finish, but he made himself heard.

Moon Crystal seemed oblivious to them, keeping her eye on the viewscreen with the same unreadable expression.  A few seconds passed, while the freighter continued to slow.  Morning Sky steered them to port, so their path would take them slightly away from the heart of the current.  If they showed any confusion at all to the pirate Captain, it failed to register on his face as he continued to watch Morning Sky.  Finally, Moon Crystal added, “either good actor, or can’t understand.”

“Now?” Red Sand replied, tapping his left forehoof against the side of his chair.

“Can’t win,” Morning Flare replied.

“Can’t let board,” Sand immediately responded.  His tapping was almost feverish, drawing a glance from the griffon captain.  The old Earth Pony struggled to keep his face neutral under the pirate’s gaze, while the pirate’s eyes bored through his skull for a minute.

“Kill if run,” Morning replied, trying to keep her tapping quiet.

“Kill if stop,” Moon Crystal retorted.  Morning Sky knew there was a chance of that, but was about to argue the point when Moon Crystal kept going, tapping on the telegraph linked to the ship’s intercom. “Saw papers first mate picked up,” her words came so quick Morning Sky almost couldn’t follow it. “Contract.  Someone hired.”

Morning Sky struggled to not appear worried as she started to pick up Moon Crystal’s line of reasoning.  Getting a job from someone was one of the more likely reasons they’d have that contract.  But still, did they know the contract specifically had to do with them?

“Why kill us?” Nova Light finally added.

“Our cargo,” Moon Crystal finally added, as the griffon took his eyes off the Earth Pony.  “Saw seal.  Solar.”

Morning Sky fought to keep the look of panic off her face as the pieces started to come together in her mind.  The freighter was almost completely stopped by now.  A contract from the Solar Court, targeting a ship carrying valuable cargo for an Aquarian research project; she fumbled trying to explain it in her head, but the circumstances were piling up.  And if the Empire wanted to stop this shipment, then…

“No witnesses,” Sand added, deciding to finish Morning Flare’s thought for her.  The words chewed at Morning’s mind as the freighter finally reached a stop, resting dead in the Aether.  The mare struggled to remain calm as she looked back up towards the griffon captain.

“Good,” he called out.  “Now, lower your force-fields and prepare for our boarding action.  The Warscreech and Hell Talon are coming about to handle our transaction.  Keep your engines and your shields off, and we will make this quick.”

“Comet Trail wants to talk.  Says it has to do with the attack,” Moon Crystal added.  “He’s coming up.”

Morning Sky pretended to not notice as she kept her eyes on the griffon dominating the viewscreen.  “I will go below-deck to inform my crew and prepare for your boarding action.  You will want me to ensure everything goes smoothly.”

“You have five minutes until my men are ready to board,” the griffon replied, annoyed that his prey was still trying to define the terms of engagement.  “I hope, for your sake, your crew makes no attempt to resist.”

                                                                           ***************

Morning Sky met Comet Trail at the bottom of the stairs just outside the bridge, stumbling halfway before she nearly fell the rest of the way in her haste.  She galloped over to him and skidded to a halt before staring up at her ship’s engineer with an apprehensive look.

“What’s happened, Comet?”  After everything today, the panic was finally starting to show through in the young mare’s voice.  For his own part, the Pegasus didn’t exactly look calm either.  And behind him stood just about every other member of the crew, save the three still on the bridge.  Apparently, whatever he’d found, it was important enough for everypony to know.

“Captain, I discovered what caused the malfunction moments before the pirate attack began.”  He probably noticed Morning Sky quirk an eyebrow at that and headed off any further question, “and Moon Crystal’s been telegraphing what’s going on up there, I think it’s related.  You need to see this.”

He produced a very simple-looking device, a crystal encased in a copper shell, with several prongs on either end, holding it out for the others to see.  The others studied it with a mixture of confusion and worry; Golden Light sucked in her breath and Sun Strike took a step back.  Morning Sky stepped forward to take a closer look.  She couldn’t understand the carvings on the dull crystal fully, but the gears were turning in her head regardless.  “This crystal,” she spoke finally, “it held a charge?”

“That’s correct.  I’d say a very powerful charge.  And at the juncture in the engines where I found it, such a charge could’ve disrupted the circuitry, exactly like what happened.  If I hadn’t vented all that excess energy so soon, there would’ve been a chain reaction that would’ve blown this entire freighter straight to Tartarus.”

“That device,” Golden Light spoke up, her tone unsteady, “I know that design.  It’s Solar.”

“I had a feeling; the magic must have been very powerful and complex, but the technology is almost primitive.  The last time we were in port was Greyrock; someone’s been trying to kill us ever since this trip began.”

The group’s silence was deafening.  A few eyes turned towards Morning Sky; she tried not to notice them, keeping her eyes on the device so she didn’t have to meet their gazes.  They were probably blaming her even now for taking this job.

“Why use pirates?  You’d think they’d consider that beneath them,” Silver Song looked towards her Captain with obvious confusion, while Sun Strike busied himself with finding the nearest telegraph to relay the situation back to the bridge.

“If they sent one of their own warships this far into Aquarian territory, that’d provoke a war for sure,” Silver Vein remarked.  “I don’ think they’re ready for that quite yet; I’d play odds they hired the pirates to handle the dirty work for them.  Who knows how many more ships might be in danger out ‘ere?”

“The clues all add up; the Empire of the Undying Sun wants us dead for the cargo we’re transporting to the Aquarians.  They must be using the pirates as a proxy.”  Morning Sky finally looked her crew in the eyes as she regained her voice.  “They’ll want no witnesses, knowing how they usually operate, and the pirates don’t take prisoners anyway.  Getting us to stop was only a trap; we have to fight.”

“We need a plan, and quickly,” Comet Trail added.  “They will be here in a couple minutes, and they’ll know something is up the instant we start moving or put our force-fields back up.”

“Comet Trail,” Morning Sky’s voice sounded authoritative once again, “get back down to Engineering and get the engines ready for a jump-start, you four, listen closely…”

                                                                           ***************

“I just want to say, for the record,” Golden Light called out, “’shoot at them and run away’ is not really that much of a plan!”

“No one said it’d be a very complex one,” Sun Strike responded as he readied the cannon directly behind her, on the opposite end of the maintenance deck.  The Wandering Star was a freighter, not a warship.  It had no proper gun deck.  They’d mounted the four new light TACs here instead, jury-rigging their mountings into the poorly-lit corridors just above the main cargo hold.  The ceiling was low for this work and the quarters were a bit tight, but it was the best place they could find.  “Start charging the tacs now, we’ll only have a very narrow window before they figure out we’re armed.”

“Isn’t this, you know, against the rules?”  Silver Song’s voice was a little wavering.  “You know, shooting after you’ve surrendered?”

“Yes, Silver Song, it is.” Sun Strike’s voice was completely level as he called back to her.

“Isn’t that, well, bad?”  Silver Song wasn’t the image of a good markspony, but they’d needed one pony to man the last cannon, and her levitation made her aim the steadiest among those left, not like it was saying much.

“What’re they going to do,” Golden replied, “complain to the Harbor Guard?  Besides, we’ve already reached the conclusion they’re probably planning to kill us anyway.”

“Get ready, Sand will keep him busy,” Moon Crystal’s warning was quick and efficient.  Golden turned her attention back to the cannon in front of her.  The platform it was mounted on took much of the space; a door in front of the cannon remained closed for now.  The force-field inside the door was up, though, so at least she wouldn’t get sucked into the Aether when it opened.

Compared to the platform that held it, allowing its rotation and keeping it stabilized, the cannon itself looked simple.  A tube a couple ponies in length, with lines up and down the barrel.  Golden Light pushed a crystal to her right back down into its conduit, completing the circuit with the weapon’s capacitor, and at once those lines began to fill up with light.  It was a bright, red light, the ship’s magic reserves flowing into the cannon like blood through an artery.  She could see the others’ cannons light up in the dark as she fished for a slug to load in.

TACs—Telekinetic Accelerator Cannons—were probably the most common armament in the entire Expanse; even the Solars had them, although Golden was sure they probably had some fancy, poetic term they used.  The concept, though, was the same everywhere, and almost painfully simple.  The rings inside the cannon each powered a levitation spell that would push the load inside forward.  The early spacefaring ponies essentially weaponized unicorn telekinesis.  Well, if memory served it was originally conceived as a way to move cargo, but after a griffon raiding party attacked a mining colony out in the Cheilos, its alternative application soon became obvious.

The one in front of her could propel a standard iron slug fast enough to go through an unshielded brick house, and probably knock it down from the impact.  It even sounded impressive, until you remembered that even the surplus light raider craft outside had bigger cannons, and probably more of them.  A proper galleon or battleship would have at least a hundred per side, and they’d likely have twice the strength.  Fighting out in space, the cannon in front of her was practically a pea shooter.

A pea shooter I’m about to fire into the eye of an angry griffon.  Golden Light levitated her flask to her lips and scowled when she remembered it was empty.  Sun Strike insisted on cutting her off after the second shot.  He asked her why she thought it was a good idea to be drunk right now.  She asked him why he thought it was a good idea to be sober right now.  Sadly, he didn’t see her reasoning.  And now she could almost feel her anxiety coming back again.  Merciful Sun Goddess—Celestia, can I just call you Celestia?  Please, sweet Celestia, don’t let me die sober.

“Golden Light?  Golden Light!  Equus to Golden Light!  Thirty seconds until contact!” Sun Strike’s voice broke her out of her reverie and she looked frantically down towards the heavy iron slug that somehow found its way into her hooves.  The cannon in front of her was fully charged; the bright red lines running the length of it lit up the dark.  Immediately she opened a panel at the back of the cannon and fed the slug into it, closing the door and locking it shut.  The holographic display lit up, showing her field of fire, targets, and present line of fire, and she knelt down to prepare herself.

                                                                           ***************

“Twenty seconds!” Golden Light called out.

Silver Song huddled in front of the loaded TAC, the red light casting an eerie glow over her form.  She handled spell circuits.  She was also the ship’s nurse.  In a pinch she navigated.  The others knew she’d never fired a gun in her life.  And yet she was still down here, hunched behind a cannon, aiming it at another ship.  She was able to make sense of the interface, thank the stars, but she was still nearly shaking as she used her magic to aim the device.  She was used to fine control over her telekinesis, but concentration felt impossible.

The pirates were getting close enough that they would have little to no time to react when the freighter opened fire.  That was, in fact, the idea.  Their force-fields were still down in order to allow boarding.  A shot would reach their ships before they could be reactivated.  But that also went for—

“Silver, aim for the engines, I’ll target the sails.”

Golden Light’s voice snapped her out of her thought processes again.  She took one last deep breath.  The red line showing her line of fire wavered over the Raider’s aft section.  Her angle was a better one than Golden Light would’ve had—that logic was clear—but she could still only just make out the engine behind the Raider’s left wing.  Her aim would have to be precise.  The unicorn tried to breathe slowly as she struggled to keep the cannon steady in her magic.  That was when she noticed it.

“Eight, seven…”

“Wait,” Sun Strike’s voice broke the countdown, “they’re changing their heading, that course won’t bring them about to our airlock.  That’ll bring them—horseapples, the engines!”

Silver Song heard them peripherally, but her eyes were on the Raider’s left wing, now.  Rather, the cannon on the wing that was just starting to glow.  Sun Strike’s voice cut Golden off.

“No time, just shoot!”

Her hoof was on the activation rune before she even heard the words, her eyes fixated on that glow as she focused her aim, choking back a cry of alarm as the roar of unleashed magic filled her ears.