My Little Destroyermen: Walker on Water

by The Atlantean

Rating: teen
Tags: Other, Nightmare Moon, Sex, Sunset Shimmer, Profanity, Adventure, Violence, Crossover, Death, Human, Twilight Sparkle, Gore, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Dark, Alternate Universe
Length: 76682

The magic of a sudden squall is all that's needed to send Twilight Sparkle into an alternate world where everything wants to eat her. Along with the similarly displaced crew of USS Walker, she tries to survive the danger as it whittles their numbers.

Twilight Sparkle was on a mission. Princess Celestia had tasked her with ensuring the arrival of the first shipment of liquefied Equestrian magic from a remote island in the Celestial Sea. That kind of power, Celestia claimed, would cause the destruction of Equestria if the wrong people got a hold of it.

Then a large rain squall bore down on her ship. In moments, the ENS Friendship was dismasted and a wallowing, helpless wreck at the mercy of the wind and waves. The chaos knocked Twilight unconscious, and when she woke up, she was the only one aboard.

Seven miles away, the exhausted crews of USS Walker (DD-163) and USS Mahan (DD-102) spot a foundering ship of the sailing age. The highest-ranking officer between the ships, Lieutenant Commander Matthew Patrick Reddy, captain of Walker, decides to check it out and recovers its lone survivor: Twilight, who turns from pony to human as soon as she leaves the magic-soaked Friendship. For the next several months, the Americans and Twilight attempt to survive this strange new world as they make new friends--and enemies.

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Crossover with the Destroyermen series of novels by Taylor Anderson. Any criticism is welcome.

Sex tag for strained references throughout the story, as most of Walker's crew is rambunctiously male.

Should update every other Sunday (unless it's a diplomatic chapter or I have homework). The longer delay than I prefer means that I can make longer and better chapters for your reading pleasure. Gotta love scheduling!

Seawolf made a great side story: MLDM: Souls of a Different Sort

And finally, this is (hopefully) the first story in the My Little Destroyermen universe.

Published 2018-02-04 16:20:06 UTC
Last updated 2021-03-08 16:48:40 UTC

Chapter 1

Lieutenant Commander Matthew Patrick Reddy sighed. Under his command were two ancient Great War-era Wickes-class destroyers, both dilapidated, venerable old ladies way out of their area of expertise. USS Walker (DD-163), his ship, had just lost much of her crew and taken heavy damage, including the loss of the number one boiler (and the forward fireroom for a time), the quite-useless range finder, and dozens of holes throughout the hull. She was old, battered, and broken, but not completely gone.

Next to Walker floated her sister ship USS Mahan (DD-102), if her condition could be called floating. Her forward superstructure was obliterated, her poor pumps dealt with more flooding than a leaky submarine, and her crew was down to forty effectives--only one of them being an officer, and not counting the half-dozen men Matt had sent over. Currently, Matt’s executive officer, Lieutenant James Ellis, was acting captain of Mahan as he and several other Walkers helped repair the destroyer.

The two ships were nestled in the Bali Strait, just off Menjangan Island, on the southern edge of the Java Sea. Their surviving American crews were wary of Japanese ships, submarines, and carrier planes. It being the third day of March 1942, the overwhelming juggernaut that was the Imperial Japanese Navy had absolutely steamrolled the United States Asiatic Fleet, coupled with the ABDA (American, British, Dutch, Australian) force, whose defensive area was the Java Sea and its rich oil fields. Dozens of destroyers, several cruisers, a sub here and there, all annihilated. Matt’s two ships were once under the command of Captain Gordon aboard the British cruiser HMS Exeter, but Exeter was sunk, along with the British destroyer Encounter and the destroyer USS Pope (DD-225) two days before. The little fleet had been run in a circle before the Japanese battlecruiser Amagi came to finish Walker and Mahan. Caught between racing into the squall behind Amagi and escaping the two battlegroups chasing them, the two four-stacker destroyers slugged it out with a ship many times their size, technology, and capability. They just barely entered the squall alive and were now more alone than the day before.

There was no radio, which wasn’t odd during war, but it wasn’t just that there weren’t any transmissions; there wasn’t anything to hear. During the fight, the radio constantly chirped distress calls from merchants. Today, it was more silent than a cold boiler.

The slightly pudgy Chief Gray, the highest-ranking non-commissioned officer on the ship, the chief boatswain’s mate, and ruler of the deck division, spoke up. “Skipper, we’ve patched most of the holes, though we’ve had to weld a lot of seams - that’ll throw the yard-apes into fits. Everything at or below the waterline is sealed, and everyone not working is getting some sleep. Speaking of which, you need some, too.”

“I know, Boats, but I also have a hundred-odd men who need me to lead them. I can’t do that sleeping. Besides, Juan can bring coffee.”
As if on cue, Juan, the only Filipino between the two ships, appeared with a fresh carafe of coffee. He refilled Matt’s mug, followed by the others, then backed through the curtain, promising sandwiches when he returned.

“Thank you, Juan.”

“If I may, Captain Reddy,” interrupted a balding red-haired Australian corporate superior in a Dutch oil company--his name was Courtney Bradford--“there’s a ship on the horizon.” He was staring through a hole in the wardroom with “his” binoculars - though Matt doubted the original owner would ever get them back, given ownership on this ship.

Matt frowned. Of course Courtney was off-topic. But the passenger was staring at something. Matt abruptly stood and motioned for the binoculars. He stared through the hole himself, and his frown deepened. “That’s not a ship in the Japanese Navy. It looks like the Constitution.”

Greg Garrett, Walker’s gunnery officer, eyed the distant vessel. Just a kid compared to the other men, even Matt’s thirty-two years, he had a youthful face and a bandaged neck from when the forward fireroom went out and steam blasted through the ruptured steam lines. “Estimate range seven miles, sir. She’s foundered and taking on water.”

That alone made Matt’s skin crawl. Right after exiting yesterday’s very odd squall (the one that saved them), they found Mahan again, then the wreckage of a Japanese destroyer that took two of their latest torpedoes - working ones, thank God - to the face. Voracious predators roamed these seas now, wherever they were, and they’d only been able to rescue a single unconscious officer before the piranha-sized fish took to the deeps again. A giant fish thing, which Mr. Bradford asserted wasn’t some type of plesiosaur because of the 65-million time gap, had also appeared. The ocean was a lot more dangerous now than if it was saturated with box jellyfish.

“Ready the whaleboat,” Matt ordered. “Mr. McFarlane, get back down to Engineering and answer bells as I need them.”

“Aye, sir.”

“Boats, be ready to board that ship. Lieutenant Tucker, the wardroom’s all yours.”

“Yes, sir,” Sandra Tucker replied. She had sandy-blonde hair, was a little on the short side, and was a knockout with that girl-next-door prettiness most women couldn’t reach. “We’ll be ready for any wounded that come through here, Captain.”

A few minutes later, the battle-weary USS Walker steamed out of the strait and into the Java Sea, headed for the sinking ship.

Princess Twilight Sparkle woke to cold seawater brushing against her face. She jumped to her hooves with a yelp and quickly backed away from the encroaching water. All she knew was that the ship was flooding; the lamps had died, so she couldn’t see, and she could hear the low roar quite easily. Then her memories flooded back.

She’d been aboard the Equestrian cargo frigate ENS Friendship with some highly classified equipment when a storm struck. Normally, it wouldn’t have been an issue, but this storm had a green, sickly feel to it. It felt like the surrounding ambient magic was being sucked through it as if it was a drain. Before the crew could do anything, it reached them and dismasted the Friendship with its powerful winds. Finally, after hours of intense storm, the rain stopped. And it didn’t just stop. It hung in the air for a minute. Then Twilight looked over the side of the ship to relieve her sudden seasickness. She wished she hadn’t. Not only had she hurled her breakfast, but her lunch as well. The ocean hadn’t been there. That was impossible no matter how much magic you used. Even alicorns couldn’t do that. She backed from the railing and clung to the deck, trying to stay attached to something real as a whining pressure built in her ears. Then the the pressure dropped to normal, the ship heaved up, and she faceplanted, tumbling below decks to where she was now.

“Captain Galaxy?” she called. “Mr. Beez?” Her voice cracked a bit, betraying her panicking mind. “Chief? Hello?”

She banged against the closed trapdoor to the main deck, finding that her magic was useless in this environment. When nopony answered, she tried again, slamming her body into it. After half an hour, she resigned herself to the fact that she was trapped. “Anypony?”

“Chief, I’m sending you over there. Take Silva, Mack, and Laney with you,” Matt said. Walker was hove to about two hundred yards from the foundered ship, and the whaleboat was being lowered to send a party to investigate.

“Why Laney, Skipper?” Gray asked. “He’s a snipe. What could he possibly do to help on a sailer?”

“He’s about as strong as Mr. Silva, if I’m not mistaken, and he’ll pull his weight. Silva, on the other hand, needs to get out for a bit before he gets bored. He'll go in with a BAR, and you take a tommy gun. And Mack, well, he’s a good guy. Should do well.”

“Yes, sir.” Gray turned to the number two gun crew. “Silva, Marvaney, get down here! We’re going onto that sinking hulk.”

The two gunner’s mates climbed down the ladder to the deck, where they then followed Gray down the rungs to the lowered whaleboat, the larger one with a Browning automatic rifle slung across his back. Silva was big, muscular, and kept his hair so short he might as well make it bald. Mack was leaner, with a normally fun, no-enemy personality and regulation-length hair. Both were excellent at their jobs, handling them with cool, professional attitudes, but while Mack had a wife back in Cavite, Silva was a rambunctious Hercules that still raised hell wherever they entered port.

Lastly, Dean Laney clambered down the rungs. He was almost as big as Silva and equally powerful. The two’s rivalry symbolized the much larger one between the deck-apes and the snipes to a T. Laney being in engineering, he was much more tolerant of overly high heat, while Silva could take the world’s eighty-degree humidity. However, both men could at least agree on one thing: the forward crew’s head was deck-ape country, while the aft one was snipe land. Which was why Silva constantly used the aft crew’s head. To piss off the snipes.

Gray grumbled as the machinist’s mate wordlessly sat across from Silva. He was only there to make sure Laney helped assess the damage to the ship. Then the coxswain Tony Scott opened the throttle on the burbling engine, and the whaleboat’s propeller bit into the water.

A few minutes later, Gray heaved himself onto the deck. Immediately, he pointed his Thompson submachine gun around, looking for a possible enemy. Sliva came next, sweeping the stern with uncharacteristic careful consideration. Laney and Mack followed, each holding a pistol.

All four sailors knew what they were supposed to do. Mack and Laney inspected the hull, while Gray checked out the masts and rigging. Silva, well, was Silva. He tromped around the deck, trying to find weak planks to enter the ship. That main trapdoor looked too broke to open.

Below, Twilight heard the noise. She didn't recognize the voices, but they spoke Equestrian and they were above her. She bucked the trapdoor.

The voices stopped. Then one ordered the stomping one to check it out. With an “Aye, Chief,” he walked to the trapdoor and jumped on it. Dust fluttered down and Twilight coughed. Another jump shattered a support. She backed away just in time, as the third caused its hinges to break off and send the whole thing crashing down with a cloud of wood dust.

Coughing, Twilight approached the being who picked himself off the mess with a few curses. “Hello? Who are you?” Her voice was a lot quieter than she intended, but he heard it.

He pointed what had to be a weapon at her in surprise, but backed down. “Chief, I found me a pony!”

“What?” An older face, probably Chief, poked over the edge of the hole in the deck. “Ah, just what we need. An animal to feed as well.”
“Excuse me?” Twilight was astonished. Her, an Equestrian citizen, an animal?

“Silva, did that pony just talk?”

I think so, Chief. What's your name, little pony?”

“I'm Twilight Sparkle, Princess of Friendship in Equestria.”

Chief stood there for a full minute before breaking into a short burst of laughter. “A princess… of friendship? That's one of the craziest things I've heard!”

“I know it sounds weird, but you have to believe me.”

Silva hoisted his weapon. “Chief, she's a castaway. We gotta bring her to Walker ‘cuz of that rule of the sea.”

“I know international maritime law, Silva. But bringing a pony aboard Walker? I'd have to clear it with the Skipper.” He scratched the stubble on his chin. “In the meantime, let’s get you up here,” he said to Twilight. “Silva, hoist her up.”

Twilight looked alarmed, but didn’t resist as Silva wrapped his big arms around her and lifted. Her lack of resistance was mostly due to the fact that water was now up to her knees, and she wanted out.

“Damn, Purple, I thought you’d be heavier.”

“My name is Twilight.”

“I don’t care.” Silva practically threw her to Chief, who pulled her onto the main deck. Then he climbed up himself, aided by his taller stature and individual digits. “Can you fly with these?” he asked, spreading out her left wing.

“In Equestria, yes. Here, I don’t know.” She climbed down the ropes to the waiting whaleboat, as directed by Chief. As soon as she left custody of the ship, a bright violet light flashed in poor Tony’s eyes, momentarily blinding him. When he could see again, he noticed that she wasn’t a pony.

“Uh, ma’am, did you, uh, just morph from horse to human?” He scratched his head and looked down, embarrassed. At the same time, his perplexed face gave away his true thought: what the hell just happened?

She glanced at her body. She’d gone to her human form, thankfully with clothes, and was lying face-up in the whaleboat. “Sweet Celestia, I have!”

Silva and Chief peered over the rail, now a foot closer, and dropped their weapons. Both men’s eyes bulged out their sockets, trying to comprehend the magic before them.

“Goddamn, Purple, you’re a hoo-man now!” Silva called. He immediately stopped caring about the fact that she’d been a pony mere moments before--there was another woman in their midst!

Chief, on the other hand, had no words to describe what happened. It went against everything he knew, and probably Spanky McFarlane, the engineering officer, and the Skipper as well. Hell, Mr. Bradford could spend the rest of his life trying to explain this, and he was a naturalist! Finally, he found something to say. At least he could try to get some answers.

“Miss Twilight, did you leave anything of importance aboard your ship?”

Her eyes widened. “Oh, no, nononononono…”

“I’ll take that as a ‘yes.’ Mack, Silva, check out the aft hold and bring out whatever you find.” He pointed at the hole that used to be the trapdoor, and the two men jumped in.

A few minutes later, a large crate found its way into the whaleboat. Twilight carefully inspected it, and, satisfied, she nodded and strapped it down. Mack, Silva, and Chief climbed in, followed by a man Silva called Laney. Then Tony burbled the boat back to the waiting destroyer, where its anxious crew watched the wooden ship sink into the Java Sea. The whole way, all five men blinked, pinched themselves, pinched each other, and did other things to make sure they weren't dreaming. She knew it was real, but Princess Luna could've made a shared dream.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the whaleboat gently bumping its mothership. Twilight went first, as Chief ordered “ladies first,” and shakily gained the rolling deck. After her, the four men came aboard, saluted the flag, and went back to their original posts. Except Chief. He guided the violet-skinned woman to the pilothouse, where ship’s captain was studying a map with a balding redhead who was probably his navigator. Neither of them seemed to have noticed the flash a few minutes ago.

“Reporting in, Skipper.”

The captain looked up. His clean-shaven face was covered in little cuts. It must’ve been painful to move a razor around them. “Chief Gray, good to see you back aboard a--” He stopped, staring at Twilight as if she were some sea monster. “Who is this?”

Sensing that Gray was about to screw up her introduction, she quickly stepped forward and said, “Captain, I am Princess Twilight Sparkle of Equestria.”

“Nonsense!” the redhead exclaimed. “Equestria is not a country of the world. Captain Reddy, she must be playing a joke on us.”

“Mr. Bradford,” Reddy said, “you’re here on my sufferance. Please don’t make outbursts like that, or I’ll send you down to the wardroom to help Lieutenant Tucker.”

Mr. Bradford sputtered, apologizing and trying to explain himself at the same time.

“It’s clear that we’re not in the same world that we were in yesterday. Therefore, we can’t jump to conclusions. Also, I don't mean to be rude, ma’am, but your skin is literally purple. Princess Twilight Sparkle, can you tell us how you ended up here?”

“It’s just Twilight, Captain. My ship was caught by a sudden storm that tore the mainmast from the deck and took the rigging with it. My crew was lucky to cut the rigging before the mast rolled the ship. I was knocked into the upper hold and hit my head on something. Your men came just in time; I was trapped in there for maybe an hour after I woke up.”

“Ah, Skipper,” Gray interjected, “when we found her, she was a pony. She changed into a human when she got in the whaleboat.”

“Is that so?”

Twilight gulped. “Yes.”

“Bu-bu-bu-bu…” Mr. Bradford stammered. “That’s impossible! At least on our world. Miss Sparkle, how exactly did your world work, scientifically?”

“We relied more on magic than science, but we did have steam engines, if that’s what you mean. There were Unicorns, who could use normal magic, then Pegasi, who could use flight and weather magic, and Earth ponies, who had earth magic. Finally, there were Alicorns like myself, who ruled over all with the magic of all. I actually used to be a Unicorn,” Twilight confessed, “but Princess Celestia thought I was worthy of the title for doing something extraordinary. All I did was rearrange my friends’ destinies to how they were supposed to be after I accidentally messed them up.”

“Astounding. So, because you have magic, you can use it to, say, fly?”

“Yes, in Equestria. My magic doesn’t seem to be compatible with this world--otherwise, I would've stayed a pony. The only reason I was still an Alicorn on my ship was probably because it’s soaked in Equestrian magic. I don’t think I can fly right now.”

Before the naturalist could ask another question, Lieutenant (j.g.) Larry Dowden, acting executive officer in Ellis’s absence, walked in to take his watch, a precious Coke in his hand. “I heard we had a new guest from Silva’s awfully loud rambling,” he said, “so I thought she’d like one of these. Ma’am?”

She accepted the drink, finding that her throat was parched. The fizzing sensation that it left was strange but refreshing. Then she remembered that her last meal was over a day ago. “Do you have some food? I haven’t eaten all day.”

Captain Reddy shot a glance at Gray. “Sorry, Skipper. Didn’t cross my mind. If you’ll follow me, Princess, I’ll take you to the galley. Lanier and Mertz should have some sandwiches out by the time we get there.”

“Thanks. And please, call me Twilight.”

“If you say so.” With that, Gray led Twilight to the amidships deckhouse. Matt ordered Larry to head back to Mahan and followed the two, who were being tailed by an enthusiastic Mr. Bradford. He helped himself to a sandwich and watched Twilight devour one of the vegetarian ones, and then another, and another. “You might want to slow down there,” he commented.

“Sorry. I just lost yesterday’s food during the storm. The rain was so weird for a minute-- it just hung in the air. Not even an Alicorn Princess can make that happen with a squall that size, especially since it felt like it was sucking all the ambient environmental magic from the world around it.” She shuddered.

Matt nodded. "That happened to us as well. We encountered a rain squall that was extraordinary; however, ours saved our lives, while your squall tried to end yours."

“Well, as a cartoonish purple human and not some cartoonish purple pony,” Gray said, “you’re gonna need some protein. Eat one of these.”

She eyed the pinkish innards of the sandwich he’d handed her closely. “What is this?”

“That, my dear princess, is ham. Meat from a pig, if I’m not mistaken,” Mr. Bradford explained.

“It’s part of an animal?! Fluttershy would never forgive me for eating this! Neither would any of my friends, for that matter. It goes against everything Equestria stands for. Mr. Bradford, I’m a pony, not a griffon! I can’t eat meat!”

“It’s Courtney, Twilight. But you must remember that you aren’t a pony at the moment; you’re human, and humans need to eat meat to get protein. Unless, of course, you go through the trouble of finding those proteins in vegetarian foods, but I’m afraid we haven’t all of those aboard. You knew that, right? Of course you did.”

Twilight just stared agape at the sandwich. Finally, she hesitantly inched it closer to her mouth and chomped down, unwilling to accept defeat in front of her hosts. A few seconds of chewing, and she swallowed it down. I’m becoming like Rainbow Dash, she thought. I can’t let a challenge pass.

“First time eating a sandwich?” Lanier asked. “Jeezus, you’re a sissy.”

Her cheeks burned. “I’ve never eaten meat in my life.” Then, to everyone’s surprise, she munched on the rest of the sandwich. When she finished, she said, “It’s delicious.”

Lieutenant Tucker walked under the deckhouse from the wardroom, since Larry had thought to send someone to tell her that her medical services weren’t needed. She immediately saw a tired young woman with a ton of responsibility behind Twilight’s calm eyes. Taking a sandwich, she ate slowly to keep herself from hurling over the side of this rolling ship.

Matt nodded at Sandra. “Lieutenant, this is Twilight. She was the lone survivor of that ship we saw. Twilight, this is Lieutenant Sandra Tucker, head of our medical division.”

“Don't worry, Twilight, these rascals aren't that bad. At least the officers aren't.”

The princess managed a weak smile. Then she turned and saw some guys sitting on the box from her ship. “Get off of that! You don't know how to handle it properly!” she yelled, running to them. They complied as soon as they saw Matt’s raised eyebrow a moment later.

Twilight threw open the crate and rummaged through its contents. For a few tense minutes, Matt wondered if it was a good idea to let her do that on the deck. Then she found what she was looking for and sighed in relief.

“What do you have there, Twilight?” Gray asked.

She pulled a large can out of the crate and lugged it onto the deck. “Last month, a pool of pure Equestrian magic was discovered on a remote island. Princess Celestia tasked me with bringing the first samples back to Equestria. We pressurized it and chilled it to store more per container. My ship was carrying ten total crates just like this one, with a magic container covered in random cargo. As long as I have this, I should be able use magic, fly, etcetera. And I wouldn't have to change to pony form; my human form can technically use magic. It’s just harder.”

“Can you make fuel appear in our bunkers?” Gray asked. His tone indicated that he didn't believe her.

“Make things appear? There's no spell for that.”

Gray shrugged. “It was worth a shot.”

“Indeed,” Matt agreed. “Twilight, how proficient are you at using guns?”

“Guns? Are those like the weapon Mr. Silva was carrying when he found me?”

“Yes.”

“Then no. But I do know a knowledge assimilation spell I can use to learn. It doesn't hurt at all.”

“In the interest of science ‘n’ diplomacy, I volunteer to be assima-lated!” Silva hollered as he sauntered from his relieved watch post on the number three gun.

“Silva! You are not the kind of man Twilight needs to learn from!” Matt said, shaking his head. “If anything, it should be Mr. Garrett or the Chief.”

“Garrett’s still on watch. I'll do it,” Gray volunteered. “Besides, I'm not sure it'll actually do anything.”

Twilight took a hose out of the crate and attached it to the container. “It doesn't take that much magic from the caster, compared to other spells. The reason it's high-level is because it requires much more concentration. Then again, it usually uses ambient magic almost exclusively, so I’ll have to use much more than normal.” She squirted a large amount of purple-black liquid into her palm and visibly relaxed as the magic sank into and spread through her body. When her eyes opened again, they were completely black except for a light turquoise as her irises. Gray flinched at the sight.

“This won't last long,” Twilight warned, “so we need to move quickly.” In an instant, she was next to the bosun with her hand against his temple, fingers spread like tentacles. Although he looked unchanged aside from a confused face, she arched back and glowed violet. At the same time, her eyes went pure white as her mind played “copy and paste” with Gray’s knowledge. After a few minutes, she telepathically told him to pull her hand away, which he did, bewildered. The other Americans were just as weirded out by the phenomenon.

Twilight doubled over and put her hands on her knees. She shut her eyes and her breathing was heavy and ragged. “I… I… think I did too much.” Her knees buckled and Gray barely had time to catch her before she hit the deck.

Author's Note

I've altered some of the original Destroyermen timeline in ways you should know:

The wardroom meetings are shuffled around, along with the ship reports in them.

In Destroyermen, Leo Davis gets bitten on the first day trying to secure the hawsers the morning they see Twilight's sinking ship. Here, he gets bitten between this chapter and the next, which ends up being about midday.

Imperial Japanese Navy (IJN) Lieutenant Tomatsu Shinya is introduced to the officers and offers his parole to Reddy much earlier than in the books. (Chapter 2)

Matt's shore party did lose Marvaney (Chapter 2); however, it wasn't on the same day that Mr. Davis was bitten.

If there's any more that you can name, by all means, say it in the comments so I can add it to this list.

Chapter 2

Twilight’s eyes fluttered open. “Uuhhhnngg.”

Sandra’s soothing voice reached her ears. “I’m glad to see you’re awake.”

“What’s going on?”

“Nothing, really. You knocked yourself out an hour ago, and I’ve had to switch between monitoring you and doing my best to keep Mr. Davis’s leg.”

Twilight swung her legs over the wardroom table, which doubled as a medical table during combat and held her head to keep it from swimming too much as she turned to a sitting position. “Well, the good news is I can use a gun. But, wow, that hurt. Do you have my container?”

“Captain Reddy had it brought down to your quarters, which you’ll be sharing with Lieutenant Theimer and I. And yes, there’s only three women aboard this ship, and you’re one of them. Be ready to ward off the males, because you may need to.”

“Have you had to?”

“Not yet. Captain Reddy said that my nurses and I are to be treated with respect, and I assume he extended that to you. I mean, you’re a princess, so anything that could be regarded as an affront to your well-being could be considered an act of war by your country.”

Twilight lowered herself onto the deck, drawing an annoyed face, but eventually stood to full height. She was taller than Sandra by a few inches, and her hair was much, much longer.

“Before you leave, and before I forget,” Sandra said as Twilight started for the pea-green curtain, “head aft to the third door on the left. That’s your room, and Karen will be waiting for you there with some… less suggestive clothes.”

Twilight was about to argue, but shut her mouth. The lieutenant was probably right. Her boots were fine, though. “I don’t see what’s wrong,” she insisted.

“Sweetie, you’re wearing a bathrobe.”

Twilight looked down. “Oh.”

“Karen and I had to change you out so that we could check for injuries. You woke up before it crossed my mind to--”

“No, it’s fine.” Twilight peeked through the curtain, and seeing no one except Karen, sprinted to her quarters. The nurse slid the dividing curtain closed behind her. Twilight saw her new clothes on the bed, a military nurse’s uniform, and dressed with Karen’s help. “Where did you get this? The ship’s underhoo--oh.”

“This was Ranell’s spare uniform. A shell just came through the ship the other day… and she-she-” The nurse couldn’t continue, her quiet sobs getting the better of her.

“Was killed,” Twilight finished. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to remind you.” She pulled Karen into an embrace. The nurse’s tear-streaked face leaned into Twilight, who ran her fingers through her hair. “Shh. It’s going to be okay.”

“How can you say that? You’re more alone than that Jap we took aboard.”

Twilight’s face contorted. “What’s a Jap?”

“Just someone from Japan. A Japanese citizen. A Jap.” Karen backed away from her, slightly unnerved by the concern in Twilight’s voice.

“That’s derogatory. Why would anypo--anyone--do that?”

She shrugged. “It comes with hostilities, I guess.” She started to sound like her mind wasn’t there even though her body was.
Sandra poked her head in the room. “Captain Reddy is having a meeting in the wardroom now that you’re out. He wants you to join, Twilight.”

“I’ll be right there.” Twilight fussed with the nurse’s skirt around her waist and adjusted the stockings. “This feels ridiculous. My own clothes would do fine.”

“Sandra’s the highest-ranking woman on this ship,” Karen replied. “If she wants you to get something done, for God’s sake get it done. You’ll be fine.”

“What about you?”

“I don’t know.” There it was again, Karen on autopilot. “I’ll be me.”

Twilight rolled her eyes and left for the wardroom. When she entered, everyone, including the captain and a man of obvious different ethnic background, nodded respectfully at her. She took the man, dressed in blue, to be the Japanese person. Seeing a single seat open, she took it. Her chair was next to the young gunnery officer and another man she hadn’t seen before. It was clear that they were all officers, though.

“For those of you not aware, Twilight is from a world alternate to both this one and our own. Her title as Princess in her own country shall stand, and there will be even less tolerance toward misconduct inflicted on her than Lieutenant Tucker and her women, which is not to say that matters pertaining to them will grow lax. Understood?”

There were grumbles of assent, so he continued: “Also, I have accepted Lieutenant Tomatsu Shinya’s parole, conditionally. You will be accompanied by Sergeant Alden at all times--” he nodded at the strong Marine leaning against the bulkhead-- “and will only go where you can’t damage crucial parts of the ship. That being said, you may work in the machine shop with Mr. Sandison, provided the aforementioned conditions.”

“I accept, Captain,” Shinya said. Twilight noticed that almost all the officers were disquieted by him speaking English. She wondered why that was.

“Next: repairs seem to be going well for us. Sorry I’ve delayed you for so long, Mr. Ellis. How’s Mahan?”

“We’ve patched a lot of the holes, but she still leaks like a sieve. I really hope we don’t get hit by a storm. As I said earlier, we’re down to just under fifty effectives. Most of Mahan’s losses were in the aft deckhouse and the bridge. Honestly, Skipper, I don’t know how we made it. Whatever you tell us to do, we’ll do, but I’d rather not push her past fifteen knots.”

“That’s fine. We’ll lay doggo for the day and repair what we can. In the meantime, Spanky, give us your report.”

The squat man next to Twilight shifted. “We’re not as bad as Mahan, if that’s what you’re asking, Skipper. Gray and I have been coordinating the snipes and deck-apes to fix everything near the waterline. Most of our leaks were plates shaken loose by near misses, and we’ve welded a lot. The divisions have been working together so much, it ain’t natural. They should get a bunch of the credit for keeping us afloat. And God, too. He sent that squall that saved us, and He deserves most of the credit, that’s for sure. I know some of us ain’t all that religious, but He’s really the only one who could’ve caused what happened.” There were murmurs of assent.
“And a lot of the credit should go to Captain Reddy.”

Matt’s face felt hot. He knew it was important for his crew to have faith in itself, and to have faith in its captain. But it just felt odd. “Right,” he said after a pause. “I’ll go ashore on Bali in two hours to check out the wildlife and do a bit of exploration, and I’ll take Mr. Bradford with me. We’ll have Springfields from the armory, everyone, and pistols, too. Add a BAR, and throw in a couple tommy guns. Ten members, plus Mr. Scott.”

“Captain, I’d like to go,” Twilight said. Everyone stared at her in shock. “I understand everything you’ve said about conduct, but I want to pull my weight. And I can defend myself as well, since I have Mr. Gray’s knowledge of your weapons.”

Gray arched his eyebrows. Then he took a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket and handed it to an ethnically different man who came with a platter of sandwiches. “Give this to Mertz, will you, Juan?”

“Of course, Mr. Gray.” Juan left, promising to return with coffee.

“I can’t guarantee your safety, Princess. After Mr. Davis was bitten on Menjangan this morning, I highly doubt that you’d be safe on land,” Matt argued.

“Menjangan isn’t Bali, Captain. And given your crew’s aversion to the water here, is it safe to assume that it’s no better than dry land?”

“Neither will be safe, Twilight.”

“Then why are you going?”

Mat was silent. She’d talked him into a corner with her adorkable face and undeniable logic. He didn’t want to back down in front of his officers, but it was clear that they sympathized with her despite her position as Princess and status as one of the only females between the two ships. Hell, her ordeal was worse than theirs since she was the only survivor of her ship--not to mention a species change. “Fine. But you stay with the boat.”

Twilight nodded. The deal was fair enough to her. She’d at least be able to get off the rocking, swelling, rolling Walker and feel the sand between her fingers--oh, how she missed Equestria’s peaceful beaches! Plus, she really wanted off the ship simply because hers was at the bottom of the sea.

Twilight jumped off the launch (which was larger than the whaleboat, and could be lowered with its crew inside it) and into the shallow, knee-deep water, a Springfield rifle in her hands. A collective gasp ran through the rest of the shore party as she splashed, but they relaxed when they saw that the prolific piranha-sized fish that saturated the Java Sea hadn’t come to eat her. With a laugh, Silva hoisted himself over, BAR slung on his back. The others followed sheepishly. One man, whom she remembered was referred to as Mr. Scott, stayed with Twilight, while Matt, Silva, and eight others began their trek into the tropical jungle before them.

An hour later, Twilight pricked her misshapen human ears to the sound of gunshots. Several of them, fired in rapid succession, were coming from Matt’s group.

“They’re in trouble!” she cried, just as a large furry lizard-thing darted between her and the jungle, hissing like a snake about to strike.

“Princess, stay with the boat!” Scott yelled. He fired his Thompson at the lizard, shredding it in seconds. Twilight backed from the carnage, wide-eyed and breathing hard. Then she felt the disturbance in the sand that marked a predator. Another lizard, unseen, had creeped to ten yards, its downy skin camouflaged by the beach. She whipped around and aimed her Springfield at it. With a deep crack and a flash at the end of the her gun, the lizard flopped to the ground, blood oozing from a hole in its face.

Twilight immediately slid back the bolt and her spent case ejected into the sand. Chambering a second round, she stole a glance to the left and saw a third lizard charging the distance between it and her. She fumbled closing the bolt in fear as her trembling fingers tried to close the firing chamber again. It was twenty feet away.

Brap-bap-bap-bap-bap! Twilight shielded her face and nearly dropped her rifle. When she looked up, the lizard was down not five feet from her. Her scared, ragged breathing from her close call with death was joined by leaning on her gun. As soon as she regained control of her legs, she retreated to the man who’d just saved her life.

“Thank you!” she cried, throwing her arms around him.

“I’m just doing my job, ma’am.”

“What’s your name?”

“Tony Scott, ma’am. I’m the coxswain on Walker.”

“Thank you, Mr. Scott.” She leaned into him a bit more, trying to absorb the confidence he radiated. Tony, on the other hand, stood erect and scanned the trees for any sign of Matt’s group. When they emerged from the trees, he sighed in relief. The Skipper hadn’t been killed. But judging by the rage-filled look on his face, someone else had been.

“Who was it, Skipper?” he asked.

“Marvaney.” Matt shouldered past the two, paying little attention to either. Taking his position in the boat, he scowled at the island and the world that seemingly conspired to kill them.

Silva and Chief Gunner’s Mate Sonny Campeti gingerly lowered Marvaney’s body in the launch. Only then did Twilight truly appreciate the death she’d so narrowly avoided herself. The gunner’s head was nearly torn completely off, but at least someone had taken his shirt and wrapped it around his neck, covering most of the grisly wound. Shiny black blood glistened from the permanently stained cloth in the sunlight. Afterwards, everyone on the beach boarded the launch, with Courtney watching over a dead lizard for dissection back on Walker.

The ride back was quiet. Twilight knew that Matt was furious. Furious at the water, furious at the island, furious at the fuzzy lizards that killed his crewman. He radiated so much anger at the world that Twilight thought she might burn up. Meanwhile, the group had already started to mourn the loss of their friend. From what Twilight had discerned, he was a very likeable man with no enemies aboard Walker.

Matt fumed aboard his ship, forgetting to salute the flag on the aft mast and Gray’s side party. Lieutenant Tucker couldn’t even comfort him, the lack of women being what it was. She did try though, quietly, as the rest of the party came aboard and carefully lifted Mack Marvaney’s body on the deck. Courtney hovered over the already-stinking lizard carcass like an expectant father, which Matt found repulsive, but he couldn’t blame the naturalist.

“Now, you see here, its eyes are set forward. Without a doubt, it had stereoscopic vision, making him a formidable predator. Terrifying! And look at these powerful legs, built especially for running. Its arms are evolved to be arms, and its claws seem be sharp enough to slice anything. Scary indeed!” he lectured as he began to dissect it with his tools. After a few moments, he saw Sandra and said, “Lieutenant, it’s good that you’re here! Do you mind coming over here and helping me slice this bugger up and show these lads where to aim next time? I fear it will become a nasty task indeed if we wait much longer.” When he said that, the men jostled for a better view.

Tony Scott handed his Thompson over to Campeti so the chief gunner could return it to the armory while he grabbed some lunch. He made his way to the galley and snatched a sandwich off the counter. “Hey, Mertz, do you have anything besides sandwiches?”

“Not really. We’re still cooking up some of that bean stuff for dinner, and it’s taking most of the kitchen. But I do have a pickle. Want one?” Ray Mertz asked, his uniform covered in grease stains from working on the stoves.

Tony nearly turned it down, but instead placed his arms on the counter. “Sure, why not?”

“Want one for the princess?” the cook asked as he handed the coxswain a pickle.

“I don’t--hey!” Tony playfully punched Mertz in the arm. “She ain’t my girl, you know that.”

“Well, she’s kinda kept close to you, out of earshot but can still see you. What’s that all about, eh?”

“I just shot a lizard with my tommy gun. The thing was charging her, see, and I did my job. Skipper told me to protect Princess Twilight, so I did.”

Mertz gave him a second pickle. “Just offer it to her. Hell, she just nearly died twice and it isn’t even sundown yet. If anything, it’d be nice.” He winked, but kept Tony between him and Twilight so she wouldn’t see it. But when he looked, he saw that she was interested in watching the number three gun crew drill on pointing. They wheeled the gun around, complaining about a damaged traverse gear, and pretended to fire a round before restarting the drill.

Tony approached her slowly after another minute of conversation with Mertz. She looked so beautiful right then, her long hair trailing in the breeze, her eyes now closed to accept the wind in her face. She was perfectly balanced on the rail with her legs crossed in a way that would prevent her from going over the side if she slipped. Her hands lightly gripped the rail, and her arms followed her wasp-thin torso to rounded shoulders and a slender neck.

“Ma’am?”

She looked down at him and smiled. “Mr. Scott. What can I do for you?”

“I, uh, damn, you’re pretty, ma’am.” His eyes widened when he realized that his language had slipped out of habit. “I, uh, didn’t mean to curse, I’m sorry, uh…”

She laughed. It was a beautiful, cheerful laugh with just the right hint of jingle. “I’m sure Mr. Silva could say worse, Mr. Scott.”

Back at the counter, Mertz had called in Lanier to watch as well. The two let out a howl at Tony’s expense, but it could’ve been a joke for all the poor coxswain knew. Tony’s face went beet red, however, if only because of the small notion in the back of his mind that they were watching.

“Iwaswonderingifyouwantedapickle,” he sputtered. He held the pickle in front of him, wrapped in a paper. “We don’t have many left, so I thought you’d want to have one before we ran out.”

Twilight smiled and slid off the rail, landing in front of him. Him being male, he couldn’t help but notice how her chest bounced when she did. He shook the thought from his head.

She accepted his offer, sliced it with a bit of unnerving magic, and extracted a few shriveled seeds. “Can we not plant these to make more?”

“I honestly never thought of it,” Tony admitted, “but my passing knowledge of pickles says that no, we can’t. The seeds are dead.”

“I know a spell that can bring any seed to germination,” Twilight said. “I had to learn it so Applejack still had a job one year. A particularly cold early freeze killed every tree that didn’t produce zap apples, and my spell was able to revive the entire farm. But it does take magic almost exclusively from the caster, and a lot of it, so practically no environmental magic is used. Just set it up and I’ll bring it to life.”

He stared blankly for a few seconds. Then he realized his expression and tugged her arm. “Come on then, let’s tell Mertz!”

She followed him to the galley’s counter. Out of curiosity, she picked up a Vienna sausage and munched on it. Her eyes told Lanier the truth, even if she swallowed it all down to avoid offense. She hated it.

“Hey, guys, Miss Twilight can grow us some pickles! She just needs us to set up the thing and let her work her magic,” Tony exclaimed. Normally, he'd try to stay away from magic, but he was too focused on the prospect of fresh pickles down the line.

Lanier’s bulk found its way around the counter. He inspected Twilight up and down and snorted. “You couldn’t even handle a ham sandwich this morning.”

“I know,” she replied. “But if you don’t want to grow your own food, I’ll stay back.”

Lanier scratched his chin. “The men will complain no matter what I cook them, so it’s no problem for me as long as we don’t get down to the Vienna sausages. We’d have mutiny in the chow line, even from you. I’ll have to clear it with the Skipper, but growing some cucumbers doesn’t seem all that bad. We just gotta keep the brine we have so we can turn ‘em into pickles.”

It just so happened that Matt and Gray walked in for sandwiches. “Ah, Skipper,” Lanier began, “can we grow ourselves some pickles? Miss Twilight says she can revive a seed or two, and that’s really all we need.”

Matt blinked. “I don’t have a problem with that, Mr. Lanier. Chief? What do you say?”

“Just keep the damn plants off my deck and we’ll be fine.”

Twilight left to get her container of magic while Lanier and Mertz thanked the captain. Tony went with Twilight to carry the container; if anything, he knew it was heavy. She could just barely lug it around earlier. When they returned, a little pot was prepared with a pickled cucumber seed resting on the dirt. Twilight squirted a proportionate amount of magic into her hand and closed her eyes. Gray took a step back out of caution from the last time she cast a spell, but it wasn’t necessary. Purplish black tendrils extended from her waving fingers and wrapped around the seed, feeding it water and nutrient, and finally planting it just under the surface as a healthy, germinating cucumber plant.

Tony caught her as the energy left her body. Casting any spell seemed to completely drain her reserves. She nodded her thanks up to him and sat on the closed container. He grabbed a sandwich off the counter and offered it to her, which she gratefully accepted. Lanier was too busy to care; he was having kittens over the live, growing plant that shouldn’t have sprouted. The cook cradled the pot in his arms like a father holding his newborn son. Even Twilight had to stifle a laugh at how awkwardly hilarious he looked.

Brad “Spanky” McFarlane, the engineering officer, bounded onto the deck to temporarily escape the sweltering hundred-ten degrees in the boiler rooms. “This old girl’s definitely got some life left in her, Skipper! Number two should be up again in a couple hours. Can’t do anything for number one--the firebricks are gone, the boiler’s a wreck, and besides, we had to scrap it to revive Two.”

“That’s fine, Mr. McFarlane. I take it that the aft fireroom is fine, so we’ll have three boilers by evening?” Matt asked, eyeing Lanier’s new plant for any signs that it would try to kill them.

“Yes, sir, looks like it.”

“Good work. Make sure your division gets a full night’s rest; they need it, and so do you.”

“I’ll do what I can, Skipper, but I’m kinda nervous that we’ll hit something in the night.”

“What do you mean?” Twilight asked.

“This water is infested with creatures that will eat you alive, as far as I’ve heard, and there’s apparently some kind of oversized crocodile as well. I didn’t see it, since I don’t leave the engineering spaces all that often, but the deck division did.”

She shuddered at the thought. “So that’s why nopo--no one jumps in the water for a swim.”

“Precisely!” Courtney exclaimed, although the timing was more coincidence than anything. “With the skull so thick on the sides and back, one should aim for the front. But more than that, I assure you! Place your shot on the nose or eyes and it will go straight to the brain, instantly killing the beast. You knew that’s what hitting the brain did, didn’t you, Silva? Of course you did. But you could also shatter the breastbone, and that could stop its heart with great certainty. It’s also a much larger target than the eyes…”

“Mr. Bradford really knows how to keep a running lecture,” Matt said. He yawned. “I’m turning in for a few hours. Wake me up if anything weirder than purple princesses happens.” Without even catching his own remark, most likely due to his tiredness, he walked off to his quarters. “And no magic until I’m up,” he added as an afterthought. Inwardly, he thought Twilight’s abilities were extremely useful, but they were way too strange for him. On top of that, they only had the one barrel before there was no magic at all. They should ration it as much as possible.

Twilight raised an eyebrow, but didn’t pursue the topic. Instead, she walked to Courtney and Sandra, hoping to learn a few things about their new enemy.

The quiet night carried into the morning, with Courtney’s running lecture finally coming to an end sometime around midnight. Repairs to the two wrecked destroyers continued unabated, though, and the racket kept Twilight from sleeping. She couldn’t understand how some of the men were able to take a five-hour nap when noisy machinery was right next to them. Eventually, she did close her eyes just before dawn, when the sun’s golden rays began to heat the bulkhead beside her head.

Then Walker began a pell-mell acceleration, knocking her out of her bunk. She squeaked as her head hit the deck and dizzily stood to the gong of the alarm bell.

Down in the engineering spaces, Spanky lifted his favorite mug, filled with hot coffee, when the bell hit “ahead flank” and the screws bit the water. He’d heard that the Army pilots, the most seriously wounded, and three nurses, leaving only Lieutenant Tucker and Ensign Theimer, had transferred to Mahan not half an hour ago, so the passages would be clear for the next shift, but damn, that was more surprising than finding out that only half of the women were left aboard.

Spanky dropped his mug trying to grab ahold of something, and it shattered on the deck, sending scalding liquid into the legs of a concentrating Isak Rueben (one of the Mice. The other was his half-brother Gilbert). Isak swore, but kept his mind on keeping the number four boiler from getting messed. Men scampered about, and the water tenders frantically moved to stop water from sloshing the turbines. Slid plates were moved back to their previous positions, and a relatively normal pace started again.

“Bloody hell!” Spanky exclaimed. “Guess the Skipper didn’t hear ‘take it easy!’”

Author's Note

More continuity changes, but I gotta keep start fast and get to the stuff I actually like. Really, the change is the timeline--and, of course, Twilight's being there. But besides our purple pony princess, everything is just somewhere in the timeline it originally wasn't. For instance, Matt doesn't go to Menjangan Island until after meeting the Lemurians (next chapter). For those of you who've actually read Destroyermen, I hope you can forgive me for these.

Chapter 3

Chack Sab-At, one of the runners for the great wings of Salissa Home, sulked his missed chance. Up here, almost a hundred fifty tails above the main deck, he could be alone with his thoughts Of course Selass would use him to get to Saak-Fas. He should’ve known. Both of them had fallen for her ruse, he realized with bitter embarrassment. But he was young and strong, with a wide choice of eligible mates, and a first son as well. He expected to go far, even though his sister Risa was closer to succeed their mother as chief of the forward wing runner clan. When a new Home was built in a season or two, he’d likely become fas chief of the center wing. He was, after all, the best wing runner on Salissa.

But maybe Selass really did dislike him. The hereditary nature of the “nobility” was rarely altered, but it could still happen. Then he’d just stay here on Salissa, while Selass’s father, the High Chief, made his life miserable. After all, High Chiefs could confirm and deny successions, and banish, too.

Keje-Fris-Ar was sovereign and held the power of life and death over all of them. If Keje truly disliked him, life would begin to get a lot more disappointing in the future. But he was a benevolent ruler, Chack knew, and would never carry out some personal vendetta based on his daughter’s whim. But Chack was deep in self-pity and didn’t feel like limiting his misery to some reasonable level. He also couldn’t shake Selass’s soft, moonlight-silver fur and deep green eyes from his mind, which definitely did not help.

He glanced down. Far below, the Body of Home clan was performing its daily chores: slating fish, tending the giant garden under its protective overhangs, cleaning the deck. Normal, fair-weather times left everyday life to these monotonous but valuable tasks. The People were happy regardless of his mood, for there were no threats to anything as large as Home, aside from the rare mountain fish, land and rocky shores, and the Grik, of course.

Mountain fish were only found in the deepest of the Great Seas, where few Homes ventured, and the Sky Priests’ navigational excellence helped them avoid easily spotted land with their mystical instruments and Scrolls. When harsh weather hindered their path, wing-tip watchers like Chack would see danger soon enough for the Body of Home clan to deploy great sweeping fins that could move against all but the most furious of seas. If that failed, they dropped the huge copper feet, two on each end of Home, that secured them to the spot. Not even a strakka could defeat the feet.

The Grik were another matter altogether. The People feared them with superstitious dread, and for good reason. They were the Ancient Enemy that cast the People from their ancestral paradise long ago, far enough in the past that even the Sky Priests didn’t know. But the People had escaped, and the Grik faded into myth and legend, becoming the boogeymen of the present. If they still existed, they were across the Western Sea, where no vessel could pass, until the Grik returned barely a generation ago, shattering beliefs and awakening an instinctual dread.

Grik Homes were ridiculously small and fragile, and Salissa’s lone standoff weapons--great ballistas that could hurl a large spear a hand-span in diameter with enormous accuracy--could easily smash them to splinters. But they always attacked, never surrendered, never fled, using their maneuverable Homes to quickly close the gap and throw their several hundred crew at waiting defenders. In Chack’s first seven seasons, he’d only seen one attack, but the ferocity and thought still haunted him today. Over the next seven seasons, making him a young adult, he saw no less than six more Grik ships that attacked without fail. The damage was always minor; they could kill People and wound Salissa, but nothing more. It was like flasher-fish against gri-kakka. Maybe their dependence on land explained their madness.

Risa watched him from afar with her amber eyes, and when his attention was locked on her, she signaled her disapproval. He looked like a fool. She made jokes often, and knew when one was playing a joke, taking a joke, or becoming one. He blinked acknowledgement and went back to scanning the horizon for enemy ships. In this confined area, danger was increased tenfold, and the People could never be too careful.

Then, along the hazy shore, a puff of dark gray smoke appeared between the small island and its bigger neighbor. The impression of rapid motion and white waves grew. Then he saw it: a small shape advancing impossibly fast. Nothing could move that fast, right? Wait. Of course. He grabbed a line and slid to the deck.

“The Grik come!” he shrieked, hoping his hands didn’t burn from the friction.

Twilight stumbled up the ladder to the bridge, where she saw Matt focusing intensely on a hazy shape in the distance. Holding the rail, she asked, “Captain, what's going on?”

“Lookout spotted something in the distance,” he replied. “I've told Mahan to make for our rally point off Alor to the east while we deal with it. It didn't cross my mind to send you over as well--Damn! I guess you'll share our fate.”

“Bridge, lookout,” a voice came over the comm circuit, “that's no Jap battleship if I say so. It's made of wood--repeat, wood,--and it has sails.” He sounded incredulous. “Whatever it is, it's not immediately enemy.”

Matt called up to Lieutenant Garrett on the gun platform: “Hold fire! I repeat, do not shoot! Keep our guns pointed, though, just in case.”

Twilight walked onto the port bridge wing as Walker slowed to two-thirds, and was soon joined by Matt, Sandra, and Bradford. “Sweet Celestia, that’s huge!”

“You said it,” Bradford agreed.

“It’s at least as big as one of our new fleet carriers,” Matt compared. “How did they make that out of wood?”

“I honestly don’t know,” Twilight answered.

“Do you, my dear,” Bradford asked, “know of any large wooden vessels in your world?”

“No. Our biggest ships are galleons.”

“As in Spanish galleons? Perhaps Indiamen?”

“Well, they’re about a hundred fifty feet long and maybe thirty wide. Pretty tall, too.”

“I would guess. Speaking of your ships, why is it that your vessel was carrying much less than its actual capacity? As I recall, you only had ten large crates aboard.”

“Princess Celestia wanted them in Equestria as quick as possible. I was supposed to tell Princess Luna about the magic when I entered port.”

Matt tapped Courtney on the shoulder. “As interesting as that all is, you might want to take a closer look at the other ship.”

The Australian did--and instantly brought out “his” binoculars. “My goodness! They look like the giant lemurs of Madagascar, but with some feline aspects as well! An entirely new species--a sentient one--with an entire civilization, possibly language, and massive merchant vessels! This is the find of the century!”

Twilight motioned for the binoculars, which he dutifully handed over. “They do look like kitties,” she observed, “but I’ll have to trust you on what a lemur looks like, Mr. Bradford.”

Matt waved at them, seemingly out of impulse, when some important-looking cat-monkey creatures stood beside the bulwarks. Across the water, they waved back.

“Goodness! A universal gesture!” Courtney exclaimed. “My theory will certainly be going through some changes now, let me tell you.”

“Mr. Scott, bring the ship about, right full rudder. We’ll go fetch Mahan.”

Keje-Fris-Ar, U-Amaki Ay Salissa Home (Captain and essentially King of Salissa), sat on his favorite stool at a small table off to the side of the central hall, which was built around a great Galla tree in the middle that extended from its deep basin of dirt to to ceiling. This was his preference, to accommodate only a modest life, and he sat and ate here whenever he wasn’t required to host guests. He used the big table for that.

Across from him, the Sky Priest Adar finished his breakfast. The two were longtime friends, having known the other since childhood, and Adar knew it amused Keje to see him at this quaint little table. He cleared his throat, then asked, “So, what do you think of them?”
“An interesting species, no doubt. However, it is getting too much for me to encounter alien creatures before my morning meal. I am getting too old for this, brother,” Keje replied. The “king” of Salissa was a great bear of the People, although a bit short, and his fur was beginning to show a few salty hairs for his fortieth-season age. The rest, however, remained a reddish brown, and it covered his massive arms and slightly plump body.

Adar, on the other hand, was a metallic silver, with a long purple robe and embroidered star that matched his coat. He was tall and thin for the People, but his nearly unparalleled wisdom and knowledge of the Sacred Scrolls (at least in his Home) allowed him and his acolytes to navigate Salissa through dangerous waters. “Tail-less mariners that did not attack! One of them even gave the Sign of the Empty Hand! Surely, we’ve missed an opportunity.”

“Whatever the implications, brother, at least they did not try to kill us. That is all I know, and it will suit me thus to know that at least something in this sea is not hostile to the People.”

Adar blinked agreement. It was a good thing indeed, but he’d be giving the beings on the smoky vessel some more thought over the next couple of days.

Twilight slept on the bottom bunk of her quarters, with Sandra on the rack above her. Karen was in the wardroom talking with Sergeant Alden about his leg. It had been quite a weird day, especially with the giant wooden ship. Captain Reddy had made an announcement about it, but she still didn’t know what to think of that. Equestrian magic couldn’t hold something that size together for very long, and with this magic-less world, that was made even more impossible. But still, a princess needed her rest.

She was following Sunset Shimmer though the jungle. It was an awfully familiar jungle, like the one that dominated the islands of Menjangan, Bali, and Java. but she wasn’t just following. She was sprinting as fast as her legs could carry her through the thick undergrowth.

She risked a glance behind her. There was a lizard, one of the ones that tried to kill her. No, two. Three. Four! A whole squad of fuzzy lizards with a voracious appetite, going faster than she ever could.

Sunset must have turned to look, too, because she suddenly fell to the ground with a thump. The yellow-skinned, bacon-haired girl scrambled back to her feet and continued running, but there was no chance of escape. The first lizard pounced at her legs and she tripped again, screaming. She was down. They were going to kill her!

A miraculous branch fell onto the lizard that got her. Dazed, it let go. She picked up the stick and swung it in a wide arc, fending the other three back. Her leg was bleeding. With no hope of getting help, Sunset was going to bleed to death, minimum. The first lizard snarled. She swung as hard as she could, and its head snapped to the side at an unnatural angle. It plopped over onto the ground, dead.
One was on her right; one was in the middle; the last was on her left. This wouldn’t turn out well. The ones on the side pounced. Sunset jumped as high as she could and landed on them. They jerked upward, sending her flying into the center one. She fought and kicked and screamed, but to no avail. They had her.

“No! SUNSET!” Twilight cried. But no one could hear her.

The lizards dragged her, still fighting, back the way they came. She followed them, tried to punch one, but her hand went right through it. She was helpless. With an angry series of clacks and snarls, the lizards conversed.

After a dreadfully long walk, the jungle opened to an expansive beach. Twilight’s heart sank when she saw what was beyond it, however. A dozen angry red ships at anchor, each one infested with the lizards, bobbed in the waves. Rowboats plied back and forth, onloading and offloading supplies and lizards. Sunset was knocked unconscious and taken aboard one.

She tripped. Looking at what had tripped her, she saw a bone. A magic-infused bone. Equestrian magic, by the feel of it. The magic of…

She was in a sea of bones. Human bones, pony bones. There was Captain Reddy, with Sandra’s hand holding his. There was Karen and Mr. Letts together for some reason, clutching a small child’s body in their lifeless arms. Chief Gray, heavily muscled, hanging from a burning tree. Mr. McFarlane. Mr. Bradford. Mr. Scott. Mertz, Silva, Lanier, Dowden, Garrett… all dead.

Her heart stopped. A cross of wood stood before her. On it, her hands nailed to the sides and her feet to the bottom, was Princess Celestia as a human. Her pale skin sagged and her multicolored hair covered her face. She seemed dead.

Twilight slammed against the cross with all her might, and it tumbled down. On the verge of panic, she checked her mentor’s pulse. It was almost gone. She held Celestia’s hand to her face and sobbed.

“No. No, no, no, no…” Her eyes rose to the stormy gray clouds above, where a chorus of lizards feasted as the Mare in the Moon smiled cruelly at the earth. Twilight’s expression darkened with pure, bloodred rage.

Suddenly, with a flurry of fingers, Celestia drew her attention back down. “Twilight, I…” She coughed. “I…”

“Princess Celestia, you can’t die! You can’t!”

“I… I’m… I’m sorry.” Her head, tilted with her remaining strength, fell back.

“No. No! NOOOOO!” Twilight shrieked into the dim light. “CELESTIA!”

“Twilight, wake up!” Sandra cried. She shook the purple woman like a rag doll. “Twilight!”

The princess shot to a sitting position, ramming her head into the upper rack. She recoiled from the pain, slumping back down into her pillow. “Ahh!”

“Bad dream?” the nurse asked.

She nodded.

Suddenly, Pete Alden burst through the curtain to the hall, pistol in hand. “You two all right?”

“Yes. Twilight just yelled in her sleep.”

“I’ll be damned if that didn’t wake half the ship. Just got around to snoozing, too.”

Matt’s disheveled face appeared after Alden left, with similar concerns. Just like the Marine, Sandra assured him it was fine. Through it all, Twilight visibly forced herself to calm down.

“Now, Twilight,” Sandra began as dawn’s early light trickled through the room’s porthole, “what did you see?”

“Sunset… Sunset was… taken by lizards. Like the ones on Menjangan. Onto ships. Red ships. Then all of you. Dead. Karen and Mr. Letts had a child. Dead. Then… then…” She began to shake uncontrollably.

Sandra considered letting it go, but she had to know what made Twilight scream so. Fortunately, she already had a rough idea of who the next person was. “It was Princess Celestia, wasn’t it?”

Twilight nodded, tears running down her cheeks. “Hanging… from…” She could barely hold back her emotions.

“From what?” Sandra patiently asked.

“A cross of wood.” Twilight started to sob.

“Oh my God, Twilight…” Sandra cried alongside her for a few minutes. “I think you may have gotten a few things from Chief Gray you didn’t mean to get.”

“What do you mean?”

“You saw her crucified. As far as I know, your world has never had such a thing, which means you could’ve only learned of it from us. You accidentally magicked some basic, albeit gruesome, knowledge of Catholicism.” She waited a minute for Twilight to digest this, as well as wipe her tears, before continuing. “Anything else?”

Twilight nodded. “Lizards were eating up in the clouds. And… I saw her… that’s impossible.”

“Saw who?”

“Nightmare Moon.”

“You’re telling me,” Matt said as Juan refilled everyone’s half-empty carafes of coffee, “that there’s this evil version of your mentor’s sister that also happens to be a goddess?”

“A crude description, but yes. Nightmare Moon is the darker form of Princess Luna, the younger sister of Princess Celestia,” Twilight replied.

“What is so bad about that?” Shinya asked. “It is common knowledge that your ‘Equestria’ is not this world just as much as it is not our own.”

“Nightmare Moon is not a person as you and I would perceive. She is a… I believe you call it a ‘persona,’ of pure evil rooted in jealousy against Celestia. Her original aim was to cast Equestria in eternal night--and she’s certainly capable of doing that, too! You see, Celestia uses her magic to raise and lower the sun, and Luna does the same with the moon. Nightmare Moon can easily cause eternal night simply by not lowering the moon and banishing Celestia to the sun, which she has done before. As far as I know, the only things that can defeat her are the Elements of Harmony. We’d need all six to even start, and we’d need to be in harmony, too. Needless to say, we have neither.”

“This is way to much wacko for me,” commented Spanky. He rubbed his head. “First a purple pony princess who swapped species--no offense, ma’am--then we lose Marvaney to a bunch of hairy lizards, then a big honkin’ ship made of wood, then we learn that there could be some evil pony goddess running around! That squall sure saved us without a doubt, and even cast us into another world, but it’s weird enough without pony magic.”

Courtney seemed the least estranged by the concept. If anything, he was sucked into the possibility. “Why do you think you saw this Nightmare Moon in your sleep, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“Well, the liquid magic under Caldera Island was used by her. It might’ve been just knowing that. But Sunset and Celestia? It doesn’t make sense.”

“For all our sakes, I just hope that’s the case,” Matt said. “A being that can control the sun and moon. Walker can barely stand against her modern counterparts. What if we ran into this Nightmare Moon?” He gestured about as if it were obvious. “We wouldn’t survive.”

Gray cleared his throat. “Skipper, if we do end up on this thing’s bad side, we should be ready. With your permission, sir, we should sound GQ daily, at least. Standard drills, morning and evening. Maybe one around noon. At the very least, we’ll be prepared to put up a fight against this thing.”

“Right. Hopefully we’ll find Mahan before she does, or they’re dead. Any news on that, Mr. Riggs?”

“No, sir, not on that front. The radio’s fine, and we’re transmitting loud and clear. Either Mahan can’t reply, or she doesn’t want to.”

That report deepened the gloom. Then Juan reached Shinya’s carafe. He tried to pour the coffee, but his hand shook with the effort. Suddenly, he slammed his pitcher on the table. Everyone jerked their head to the noise, surprised that Juan would even let it happen.

“I’m sorry, Cap-tan,” the Filipino almost whispered. “I cannot.” He summoned what dignity he could and left the wardroom.

Matt sighed. It was never going to be easy to adapt to the changing world.

The next day, Walker reached Alor, where Mahan was supposed to head. She wasn’t there. They should’ve passed her already! Still, they poked around the island for a good bit. The damaged destroyer was nowhere to be found.

“Turn about,” Matt ordered resignedly, “and secure number two. We’ll see if we missed her on the way here.”

Twilight could see the agonizing decision affect the captain. Those men she hadn’t met, but they were still his men. Men he deeply cared about and felt responsible for.

Walker made a wide turn to starboard, finally settling on a western heading. Mournfully, the discrepit destroyer slowed her wind-blowing sprint to a crawl. Her disappointed crew knew what it meant. They hadn't found Mahan. With mournful gray smoke rising from her aft stacks, Walker steamed west under the midday sun.

Author's Note

A bit shorter than the others, but I found a really nice stopping point. Actually, I found several, but this seemed to be best.

Alor is an island in Indonesia, resting on the southwest edge of the Banda Sea. It's about 1,600-1,700 kilometers east of Menjangan Island, where Walker and Mahan dropped anchor at the beginning of Chapter 1. Just for a little context on where they are. Image for you visual peeps:
A GDoc dedicated to the image cuz I can't get it to upload onto fimfiction straight from the computer for some reason. Oddly enough, the "add image" seems to only like online images.
This is why Mahan wasn't found.

Chapter 4

On the third morning since Mahan’s disappearance, Walker nosed back into her Menjangan anchorage. As suspected, Mahan wasn't there, but the confirmation deepened the gloom.

“Drop anchor. Repairs are priority, but keep the guns manned,” Matt said.

Shinya worked in the machine shop, fixing the traverse gear for the number three gun. Garrett had reported its damage just before Twilight came aboard, but Matt hadn't been willing to lose a gun for the few hours it'd take until learning about Nightmare Moon. Even then, he only gave the green light when they had stopped. Matt respected the Japanese lieutenant, and Gray was openly hostile, but Bernard Sandison actually liked him. Both men loved machines, and a growing friendship had begun to surface. If anyone could thaw the bitter ice between the former opponents, it was the torpedo officer.

Spanky finished repairing the number two boiler and patching the forward fireroom. There was nothing for number one, and besides, he'd cannibalized it to revive two. Eventually, he'd replace it with temporary fuel bunkers until they could rebuild the boiler from scratch. At least they had more scrap to fix other things with now, too.

Twilight practiced using the number one gun with Silva after morning GQ. She wanted to feel useful during a fight, but her magic was so limited that she had to resort to conventional means. Her resolve to prevent whatever her dream showed her was stronger than steel, so she started strength conditioning with Alden after lunch as well.

Gray watched the princess rapidly become a formidable fighter. She was by no means a true warrior, but her quick adaptation to the changing environment still unnerved him, as did her resolve. Not even Matt ever became as serious as she was now, and he'd fought through the kaleidoscope of Amagi’s guns and the frustrations of the Asiatic Fleet. No air cover, malfunctioning torpedoes, and dud rounds were just a few of those frustrations that plagued the Allied defense of the Dutch East Indies. Maybe she was using a spell to help her. That idea was scary enough.

His suspicions were seemingly confirmed that night. Twilight wolfed down a couple sandwiches (not that that wasn’t the norm on this ship) and headed for bed. Gray followed her, but leaned on the bulkhead to give her privacy in her own quarters. Perking his ears, he heard her talking to someone. Odd. Both nurses were in the wardroom behind him.

“Twilight, where are you? Luna tells me that you never reached Manehattan. You're four days late.”

“Princess Celestia, I'm so sorry. I lost nine of the crates. The Friendship sank after a storm a few days ago, and my rescuers were only able to find one before bringing me to their ship.”

“All but one were lost?” Celestia’s face was stern.

“Yes. Nine of the ten are at the bottom of the sea.”

“Who are these rescuers? I must reward them for their service.”

“They are the crew of the United States Navy destroyer Walker. From what I’ve heard, they started in an ‘Asiatic Fleet,’ but were attached to something called ‘ABDAFLOAT’--American, British, Dutch, Australian-- to defend some group of islands around this ‘Java Sea’ until they were whisked to the world I'm now in. They took heavy damage and casualties before finding me, and they've recently lost their sister ship Mahan and its crew as well.”

“All the more reason to reward them well, Twilight Sparkle. They chose to rescue you when they themselves had lost so much.”

“I wish I could, honestly. I just don’t have anything to do it with.”

“I’m sorry for asking, but did you not say Equestria, or even Equus? That is the world, is it not?”

“No, Princess Celestia, it isn’t. The storm that sank the Friendship transported me to another world, one that is different from our own in very fundamental ways.”

“I understand that much. In that case, I shall divert resources towards bringing you home.” Celestia tensed. “Twilight, I can sense the Caldera Island magic in the spell you have cast. Why are you using it and not the magic you have?”

“It is the magic I have.”

“How is that possible? You have your own reserves and ambient magic to use.”

“I poured my reserves into the container. Everything I do now, I do without my reserves.”

“And ambient magic?”

“There is none.”

Silence. Even Gray was shocked by that admission, despite already knowing it. The flat, deadpan statement probably rocked Celestia to her core.

Finally, there was a response. “I-I don't know what to say.”

“Princess Celestia,” Twilight began in a soft tone, “I know you feel responsible for the mess I’m in. But if you let that control you, Equestria could fall apart around you. Since I have to ration what magic I have, this is probably the last time I’ll see you. Please, tell my parents I love them. And my Shining Armor. All my friends and family deserve to know what happened..”

“My dear Twilight…”

“I’ll be fine. My new friends are experts at defending themselves. Sergeant Alden is an elite amphibious soldier from a country well-versed in combat. Captain Reddy is an excellent commander. Lieutenant Tucker is an esteemed healer. Mr. McFarlane is a redneck engineer of sorts, keeping this outdated thirty-year-old rust bucket from sinking. Mr. Gray, the bosun, is a formidable bear of a man! And Mr. Silva could probably defeat an entire city if one of us is in danger. Everyone else is just as qualified for their jobs. I couldn’t ask for a better group of alien friends to protect me.”

“But no magic…”

“Princess Celestia. Please.” Twilight began to tear up. “Just stay strong. Maybe I’ll come home in a storm or something.”

The apparition of Celestia covered her former student in its wings. “I will, for Equestria’s sake. And I will tell your family. I will bring you back home, my” --she smiled-- “former student. Perhaps your own pupil, Sunset Shimmer, may help. I shall ask her what she knows about this Walker you speak of. In the meantime, stay alive. It would be of grave misfortune if we were to bring you home only to find that you had been lost.”

“Don’t worry, Princess. I have Mr. Scott.” She blushed slightly at this, but her recognition was well-founded--he’d saved her life! With a nod from her mentor, she ended the spell. A few moments later, Gray heard her curse softly. “Damn! That knocked it down to ninety-five percent. No more interdimensional communications spells unless it’s absolutely necessary.” That last bit was almost resigned, almost regretted.

Gray stifled a sniff. Twilight had just lost her world completely. Of course, with that weird spell, she had to run out of magic for that to happen, but she’d just resolved to not use it. That had to be a tough call, hence why she hadn’t used it earlier. Then the curtain ruffled and he acted like he was just passing by to avoid an awkward spying moment as best he could.

“Chief Gray. I didn’t expect you down here,” the princess said as she stepped into the hall, nearly walking into him.

“It’s nothing, Miss Twilight. Messing with your magicky stuff?” he replied, trying to sound as amiable as possible. For once, he hoped his condescending tone didn’t betray him. As it was, he only sounded close to berating instead of jumping straight to a fear-inspiring bellow.

“Yes. I remembered a spell that could, theoretically, allow me to talk across dimensions. But it costs so much magic, I was afraid I’d use all I had just trying to cast it. Thankfully, that didn’t happen, but I can’t use it again, not if I want to have some magic at all.”

“So, a final talk with home?”

“Yes.” She paused, gathering her thoughts. “Do you have anyone back home, Mr. Gray?”

“Not really. Maybe the Boy, but I haven’t heard from him since Pearl Harbor. He was in Oklahoma when she capsized after the Japs bombed her.”

“You had a son?”

He nodded grimly. “I did.” His mind raced to think of a different subject, and it latched onto the first thing it could remember. “I might’ve caught a bit of that conversation with your princess by accident. She special?”

“Princess Celestia has been my teacher since I was a little filly. I’ve never let her down, nor has she me. We have sort of a… mother-daughter relationship, if you know what I mean.” Gray nodded. “I promised her I’d get the magic to Princess Luna, but I’ve failed! Now all of Equestria is in jeopardy because I represent the Element of Magic and the other five Elements of Harmony don’t work without Magic and I’m not in Equestria and--”

Gray placed his finger on her mouth in a “be quiet” gesture. “I don’t need to hear it. Just don’t blubber all that in front of Mr. Bradford. It might start a discussion you’ll never leave.” He mentally checked the time. “Evening GQ’s going to sound in a couple minutes. Saw you didn’t have a station this morning.”

“Where should I go? I’ve never been on a dedicated warship during a battle.”

“Head to the bridge first. There’s a spare helmet in the locker near the back. Should be a good fit. Rogers’ head wasn’t all that big. After that, I want you on the number three gun. Silva will show you the ropes, and I’ve cleared it with the Skipper. You’ll be trainer, moving the gun where he tells you.”

Twilight was about to ask why there was a spare helmet for a guy named Rogers, but decided against it. Instead, she said clung to the last thing Gray had said. “You mentioned me being on one of the big guns, correct?” Gray wheeled his hand in a confirming, “keep going” gesture. “Everyone on the guns is big. Why put me in their midst?” Her hidden meaning was clear: Those are the rambunctious guys. You’re putting me in the middle of them. And I know why they look at me.

“I’m swapping some of them onto numbers one and four. Those are the most exposed guns. You should be relatively safe on number three with Silva next to you. He’s arguably the biggest problem out of all them in ordnance, but he’ll behave himself if he doesn’t want in the water--which I can guarantee he doesn’t!” There was a devilish chuckle at that, but it was serious. Any slight against Twilight could be met with extreme prejudice, and even a second in the water was certain death. She was horrified by the consequences, but understood her position. She really couldn’t argue against being under the direction (and therefore, protection) of one of the toughest men on the ship.

“But why must I be on the gun? I’d be better protected if I was in the wardroom with Lieutenant Tucker and Ensign Theimer, or maybe on the auxiliary conn with Lieutenant Dowden.”

“You need to know how to man the guns. Everyone here can do at least a half-decent job at anything on the ship they’re not assigned to, and that’s because that’s what it’s taken to keep this old girl afloat and fighting. Anyone up here can jump down below and run the boilers and vise versa, theoretically. They won’t do it all that well, but they’ll do it. With the wardroom good to go, we need someone who can help us on whatever we need--as long as it’s not indecent.”

“Won’t this scandalize the crew or something? It looks like only males fight in your world.”

“Yes, and that’s mostly true. It scandalizes me, and I’m the one who asked the Skipper for the go-ahead. He doesn’t like it, but he recognizes the necessity. Spanky will, too, after a fashion.” He chuckled at that. The skinny engineering officer was a hardcore traditionalist. “We’re just… not used to women aboard, much less part of the crew, but we’ll get used to it.”

“I understand, Chief--” she began, but was interrupted by the general alarm. Gray’s reaction was simple: he strode up to the deck, where he could abuse his deck division. Twilight stood stunned for a split second afterward, then she sprinted to the pilothouse, grabbed the spare helmet out of the locker, and raced to the number three gun on the amidships deckhouse, just forward of Lanier’s galley. By the time she reached it, her helmet was secured at a jaunty angle and her long hair was tied into a messy bun.

“There you are, you sweet little gunnery princess!” Silva called. “Just stand right there by the training lever.” He gestured to the spot and watched attentively as she lightly stepped into line, completely disregarding his attempt to woo her. “Alright,” he continued as Tom Felts slammed the loaded breech closed, “left, left… good! Up, up, no, too far! Down… good!” He beamed. “You’re picking this stuff up right quick!”

“I learn from the best,” she replied, but Silva paid no attention if he heard it. He was signaling to Garrett that his gun was ready for action.

In the pilothouse, Matt waited as the divisions reported in. After a few minutes, the last division, Sandison’s torpedo men, finished. They were usually at Gray’s disposal since there were only three working torpedoes left (Two more were in the shop. One had a crumpled warhead, while the other didn't have a tag describing its problems).

“All stations manned and ready, Captain,” his talker, young Fred Reynolds, reported.

Matt looked at his watch. Longer than he’d like, but still extremely quick, considering how shorthanded every station was. “Very well. We’ll go to Condition III, manning half the guns--one and four should be fine--in two hours. Until then…” He shrugged.

Half an hour of tense readiness passed before Karen popped her head up the ladder and tentatively pushed a carafe of steaming coffee towards the captain like she was sacrificing it to a bloodthirsty god. When he walked to pick it up, she disappeared down the ladder with an “oh” on her face.

“Coffee’s here,” he muttered. He filled his cup and offered it to the other tired men. Gray was the only one to accept it, and he took one for Garrett on the fire-control platform above. Matt sighed contentedly, sitting back in his chair on the forward-right side of the pilothouse. This coffee was better than Juan’s. Definitely. He looked out on the mesmerizing, moonlit ocean for a few hours, not even noticing the watch change and securing from GQ. He even dozed off about midnight.

Reynolds’ relay from the lookout startled him out of his nap. “Captain, lookout reports surface target bearing one-five-nine! Mr. Garrett ranges it at five thousand yards and is directing guns one, three, and four to point.”

“Acknowledged.” Matt sheepishly hurried to the starboard bridge wing and raised a pair of binoculars, looking aft. The pair’s magnification power turned the miniscule haze on the dim but oranging eastern horizon into… something. What that something could do was beyond him. It looked like a cross between an oversized angel with sooty dark bat wings--kinda like some weird, perverted alteration of Twilight. Unlike the purple princess, however, this one was black with long, starry-night hair that twisted and blended perfectly into the sky behind it. Its turquoise eyes were split by vertical slits, and midnight-blue magic swirled around its hands. How the lookout spotted it was irrelevant, as Matt felt a instinctual, nightmarish chill run down his spine when it looked back at him through his own binoculars.

“Sound general quarters,” he almost whispered.

Author's Note

Honestly, I'd make it longer, but I can't seem to get that last 700 words of story-enhancing filler. So here I am, ending the chapter at 2600 words. It's a lot shorter than I want it, but I've always liked starting combat at the beginning of a chapter instead of in the middle.

I've always seen Twilight as a pragmatist, so that's the other reason as to she's doing all this training with Alden. It irks her to not do anything and to be helpless.

Lastly, I'll try to answer any questions about the story ASAP, as always, and I'll see you in two weeks when the next update comes out.

Chapter 5

Twilight slid into the number three gun’s trainer’s seat with an egg sandwich in her mouth. She gulped it down and spun the training wheel to train the gun out to starboard. Checking her aim through the scope, she held a thumbs-up ti Silva, who in turn checked the sight himself. The big gunner’s mate, satisfied, signaled Garrett that they were ready. In less than three minutes, it was obvious that all stations were ready.

“Hey, Chief, what’re we actually looking at?” he yelled so Gray could hear him over the blowers.

Garrett answered. “Skipper says there’s something north of us. Mark bearings one-five-nine, elevation… ten degrees. Match pointers!”

Twilight trained the gun to the selected bearing with some guidance from Silva since Spanky had just begun accelerating before the anchor was completely out of the water. Looking through the sight, she froze. That was impossible, wasn’t it? That couldn’t be the Mare.
Silva followed her gaze. “That is one black bi...scuit. Hot damn!”

“It’s… it’s… her.” Twilight could barely speak. Felts had to lean in just to hear her.

“It’s who?” he asked.

“Nightmare Moon.”

“And who in the godforsaken world is that?”

She forcibly calmed herself. “She’s--”

“I don’t care who she is,” Silva interrupted, “as long as she ain’t gonna try to kill us!”

“She just might do that.”

Before Silva could think of a witty reply, the salvo buzzer rang. He pulled the trigger and squealed with glee as the four-inch naval gun barked. Its loaded high-explosive round was spat out with an orange flame of contempt, and its breech popped open, the spent brass casing ejecting onto the deck below. Twilight yelped when the entire gun recoiled from the shot, but quickly recovered. Garrett called corrections, Felts slammed closed the loaded breech, and Silva fired again.

Nightmare Moon hovered just over the choppy waves with dark blue magic swirling around her human fingertips. Her midnight skin and starry hair were results of her casting into this Celestia-damned world. No magic seemed to exist here for the longest time, then it revealed itself to her in all its glory. Of course a source of magic for the Caldera felt differently! She could sense it. The Element of Magic was here, in this world, without the others to assist. It was fearful and alone; she could taste it in the air. She took a sniff of the salty air and smiled. Caldera Island magic was here, too. Much of it was ruined beyond use, she felt, lying at the bottom of the sea. But some was here. With a chuckle, the Mare in the Moon contemplated how the Caldera got its magic. One of its secrets of the island was only revealed after she gained her immense power, and it was one even Celestia had reason to fear.

She continued gliding. Small, voracious fish danced in the sea below her, and it was exhilarating to watch them jump at her. She never let them reach her, however, and they fell back into the water to be consumed by their brethren, drawn by the splash.

Then she felt it. Something was wrong with it, like it forced nature to move it rather than allow her to guide. Machinery thrummed in the ocean swells as if it squeezed every last ounce of natural strength from its environment. Instinctively, she turned to investigate whatever desecrated the holy worlds of Caldera.

In the distance, she saw the ship. It was a sad, lonely affair, without a fleet to protect it. Clearly made of metal from its rusting gray, its knifepoint bow powered through the waves with ease. It rolled horribly when one hit it at an odd angle, pitched in the crests and troughs, and corkscrewed sickeningly in the chop. She considered blasting it with lightning…

Wait. The ship had magic aboard. The Element of Magic was there, along with almost a full quadran of Caldera magic. It would be stupid to destroy it. Perhaps, with a few twists, the Element--Twilight Sparkle, she thought with loathing--could learn the secrets of Caldera the way she had. Yes. Celestia’s prize pupil, learning what even her mentor was unable to comprehend with her feeble sun-scorched mind. That would be a sweet revenge indeed.

Suddenly, the water in front of her geysered high above her head with a loud bang and destabilizing overpressure. She nearly lost her unconscious focus on the spell keeping her aloft, but managed to prevent an untimely death. As her head cleared, she realized what had happened. The little metal ship had attacked her! From such incredible distance! She marveled at the feat, but then seethed with hatred as she recognized the technology. Fire-spitters from the world of bipeds, no doubt. They dampened magical efforts with their speed, accuracy, and stunning momentum. Their makers didn’t know that, but they didn’t need to, did they? As she watched, the second salvo straddled her on both sides, while the middle shot landed directly under her.

Twilight Sparkle, she recognized with her magic. The purple pony’s magic was unmistakable even through the clear, invisible trace of ballistics. Sparkle was on the middle weapon, but not actually firing. Perhaps she aimed it? No matter, Nightmare reminded herself, Sparkle is a magician, not a professional with fire-spitters.

The salvos were surprisingly accurate, given the distance they had to travel and her relative size on the horizon. A third one rumbled in, and the first two shots straddled her yet again. The third, dead center like the previous round, slammed into her wing and exploded against it. She felt like a yak had rammed her side and ripped pieces of her coat from her skin. Looking down at the reddening water, she realized that it had torn her wing completely off, and blood attracted the voracious fish to her ghastly wound. Immediately, she cast a specialized healing spell, one she had developed during her thousand-year imprisonment, one only an alicorn could cast, and melded her wing from the particles in the air itself, sewing it back to her side with ease. Almost instantly, she felt a breeze whistle between its feathers as the nerves rapidly rebuilt their web of lightspeed-like connections.

She turned her attention back to the metal ship. It had retreated slightly as it picked up speed and left its anchorage. It was already going faster than she could fly; in a few minutes, it would be out of her longest-range spells. With a flash of midnight-blue light, she lit her horn and cast the most logical spell.

“Skipper, it’s gone!” Garrett cried. He couldn’t believe it. The thing they’d been shooting at had simply vanished from sight amid a translucent ball of white. The men beside him glanced nervously to one another. Garrett never lost a firing solution out of the blue, when his target was in visual range.

In the pilothouse, Matt strode to the starboard bridge wing to see for himself. After searching for a few minutes, he resigned himself to the fact that whatever it was did just completely disappear. When he glanced aft, however, that chill from earlier returned. “Chief Gray, search the ship from bow to stern. I want to know for certain that that thing didn’t somehow move from there to here.”

Before Gray could respond, the number three gun was enveloped in a cloud of sparkling midnight-blue smoke. There was an unmanly scream of absolute terror, and Tom Felts fell from the amidships platform, landing back-first into the galley. Immediately, Lanier hoisted the unconscious man onto the counter, for once wholly disregarding his carefully-built mountain of sandwiches. Mertz and the other mess attendants tried to revive the gunner’s mate, eventually grabbing a fire hose and spraying it all over him.

Meanwhile, the cloud began to grow until it obscured view of the galley and encircled number three in a perfect terrifying sphere. Men on the machine guns aimed their weapons carefully, deliberately, at the thing, knowing that, as evil and intruding as it was, they could hit their crewmates trapped inside. Tense minutes ticked by.

Inside the cloud, Twilight slowly recovered from her initial shock. Turning over to lie face-up on the platform, she found a devilish blue-slitted smile leaning into her. She scrambled back, only to find that she’d reached the edge of the platform. She couldn’t fight and she couldn’t run.

“Twilight Sparkle,” the nightmare began, “what is a pony with the likes of you doing in my realm?”

She was sure the entire ship could hear Nightmare Moon’s electric rasp of a voice.

“Well, Sparkle?”

“What do you want, Nightmare Moon?”

“I want revenge on Celestia. For the longest time, that has been my motivation to keep me prepared to rule Equestria: to banish her to the sun, paying me ten thousand years for every one she forced me on the moon. But then you came and wielded the Elements of Harmony, magical artifacts of pure love and tolerance that no mortal should ever possess!

“I will concede, Sparkle, that your mere existence has given me a new motivation. You and your friends have been Celestia’s tool, removing any credible threat to her tyrannical rule. For that, I thank you. I have come to realize that is is not Celestia that should be the target of my anger, but those she cares for. In doing that, both will see the true power I control! You have much to learn about magic, Sparkle, if you are to truly understand the fundamentals of the universe and the existence of the Caldera itself. If you believe that magic does not exist outside of Equestria, then you are lost even to yourself.”

With a groan, Silva slowly stood, using the large naval rifle as support. His vision was still blurry, but he saw the outline of a dark-skinned woman leaning triumphantly over an afraid Twilight. The ship had been boarded. There was no time to lose. He threw all of his weight at the woman, slamming into her with all the undisciplined strength he could muster through a single punch followed by his heavily muscled body. To his surprise, the collision actually enhanced his vision, clearing it as the nightmarish cloud disintegrated.

Outside, Matt watched worriedly as the cloud continued to stay on his ship. Suddenly, it shook and dissipated. As soon as it did, the trigger-happy machine gunners fired at the rolling midnight-blue winged woman who dared enter their sacred home uninvited. She poofed into several small clouds and struck back with lightning, blasting the guns with enough energy to make them glow orange. All the gunners dropped their precious equipment in both terror and reflex.

With a spine-chilling scream, the clouds expanded and proceeded to surround the entire ship in a towering, roiling donut ring, full of evil magic. Lightning rammed the fantail with unprecedented force, transforming the stern into a blinding light show. Then the bow was struck, the residual heat singing the hairs on the back of his neck.

“Take cover!” he yelled. He and Gray dragged a stunned Courtney back into the pilothouse, catching their breath as the next bolt struck home at the comm shack. Electric arcs flew from the radio and climbed the aerial on the foremast, raining lightning across the deck from the fried crow’s nest. Superheated steam gushed from the aft funnels, signifying the loss of the aft fireroom and boilers three and four. In an instant, the steam was replaced by sooty black smoke. Not only had the boilers gone down, but they were on fire and spreading burning fuel throughout the engineering spaces!

As Walker ground to a near halt with the number two boiler struggling to keep steam pressure, the bolts of lightning were answered. In a single smooth motion, Twilight spread her wings, flew above the destroyer, and blasted everything she had at the cloud ahead. Such a enormous discharge of magical energy had a cost, though. Consciousness slipping, the princess fell back to the deck. She was lucky to be caught by Garrett and a few others just before she hit it.

Her ploy worked, however. The ring faded into a misty East Indies morning, complete with an orange sunrise and volcanic islands to the south. As the last tendrils of cloud disappeared, a loud voice was heard:

“Such a pitiful little ship. If it wasn’t doomed already, I’d sink it myself. Beware your enemies, destroyermen, for you have made a terrible one today. The Queen of the Night does not take kindly to hostility. You are in my realm now. Muwahahahaha!” With that final, hair-raising laugh, Nightmare Moon disappeared.

Silva carried Twilight down to the wardroom, as he could do it by himself and keep more people on the guns. Parting the horrid pea-green curtain, he saw Sandra’s shocked face as she heard a battle update from a still-dazed Courtney. She looked up at him and turned even paler than she already was. Then Karen swiftly directed him to gently set Twilight on the table.

“Silva, what happened to her?” Sandra demanded.

The big man shrugged, then looked down at his temporary charge. The princess was disheveled from the top down, her uniform had been singed, and her hands were horribly burned. Her flattened wings drooped over the sides of the table, and her violet skin had turned a sickly shade. She looked almost dead.

“I don’t know, ma’am. She flew up above the ship and shot what had to be the biggest blast of her magic in history right at the lightning donut cloud.”

“Go into my quarters. Her magic container should be in there. Bring it here.”

Silva nodded and hurried down the hall. Nearly ripping the curtain to the nurses’ and princess’s shared quarters, he saw the metal barrel on its side, slowly oozing precious swirls of deep purplish black magic. The meter that indicated its filled capacity was completely dark. He picked it up and hauled it back into the wardroom.

Sandra took one look at it and almost fainted. Courtney’s eyes bulged from their sockets in shock. Karen was the only one who remained neutral, her autopilot mode having been activated to care for Twilight.

“Oh my God, there’s none left!” the naturalist cried.

“She used it all,” Sandra agreed.

“But she did save the ship with it,” Silva pointed out.

“Yes. You do have a station to attend, Mr. Silva. I recommend getting back to it.”

“Yes, ma’am.” The big gunner’s mate clambered up the ladder to report to Matt before returning to the number three gun. He figured the Skipper would want to know this turn of events.

Chack was sitting above the great wings of Salissa Home once again, this time contemplating the strange beings from a few days before. They had certainly seemed like Grik, at least at first, but then they didn’t attack! Only the People did not war with themselves, as far as he knew.

He glanced at Risa. She would normally be staring at him, watching for any more self-pity. This time, however, her eyes were trained to the south, watching the nearly clear horizon intently. It was a beautiful morning, one very few could appreciate from up here as a wing-runner, and both liked to make the most of it when they could.

Following her gaze, he saw a massive dark smudge just below the orange cloud cover. It pulsed and thundered, bright bolts struck itself (or possibly something within it), and the thing shuddered with the power of ten thousand lightning strikes. A moment after he saw it, a blazing light that rivaled the Sun’s eye-searing glare lit the early morning. The flash itself wasn’t that harmful, but the fact that he saw, heard, and felt it from such distance proved it was a powerful thing indeed. Whatever had happened occurred far past the horizon!

“It must have been those tail-less mariners,” Risa guessed. “They encountered something dangerous, and then they destroyed it.”

“Let us hope that is what has come to pass, Risa,” he agreed, “and not some powerful entity bent on destroying the People like the Grik.”

Author's Note

Happy Easter, everyone!

I plan on keeping Nightmare Moon as a primary villain (alongside Kurokawa). Sunset should also enter the scene in a couple of chapters.

Chapter 6

Matt strode into the wardroom with Gray on his tail. The Chief was fretting over how he’d put Twilight on the gun so she could feel useful, but instead nearly killed her. The ship had secured from GQ, so naturally Silva and Tony Scott were there, too.

“Lieutenant, how is she?” he asked as he threw the curtain aside.

“She’ll live, Captain,” Sandra replied, “but I’m not sure how much beyond that. Her hands are burned so badly, she’s in danger of losing them. Her left leg is broken as well, and it’s such a messy break that she may never walk again. As far as I can tell from a few burned cuts, her blood nearly boiled with all the magic she channeled at once. It’s all I can do to keep her alive, albeit barely, but she’s worse off than Davis by a long shot.”

“Silva told me the container was empty?”

“Yes, sir.” The nurse gestured the corner where a tired Karen Theimer sat on it, treating a cut she’d received trying to move Twilight’s sleeves back. She’d resorted to cutting them off, but the scissors missed after a few shaky attempts.

“We owe her a great deal for saving the ship. Do what you can to keep her hands. All of us may need them in the future.”

“Yes, Captain, but no guarantees. There’s also the injuries in the engineering spaces and the aft deckhouse to worry about.”

“Did they already come by?”

“Yes. The more serious ones are in their bunks at the moment, but no fatalities. All of them should live. Twilight must’ve cast a shield to protect the men. If she hadn’t, the entire aft fireroom would be fatal, no injured. The deckhouse is also similarly lucky.”

Gray sighed in relief. No dead. He was about to ask a question regarding the gunners when Spanky came in.

“How are my firemen? We’re just about done putting the fires out, but I need my guys as soon as you release them.”

“Most are fine and should return to duty in a couple of hours, Mr. McFarlane. The men you call the Mice will need a day or two. Their burns are worse than the others.”

“Thanks, Lieutenant.” He walked back out to continue directing engineering and the damage-control parties assigned to his disposal, but mostly to shorten the time Laney could be a dick to the other snipes away from his glare.

Gray patted the worried engineer’s back as he left, then asked, “So Princess Twilight’ll be okay?”

“We can only hope, Mr. Gray.”

Matt nodded. “We’ll stay in our Menjangan anchorage for the day. That should give you a more stable chance to treat everyone, and give the men a break. Shift who we have on damage control, give everyone a few hours’ rest. And check our supplies. We may have lost some during the fight, besides the rounds we fired.”

“Yes, Skipper. I’ll have the ammunition count by noon.” Gray ushered Silva and Tony out, then turned to take one last look at Twilight. Her eyes were swollen shut now, possibly of dehydration, and her face showed the pain she was in. He could only hope she could forgive him for putting her in that position.

“Captain,” Sandra said after Gray was gone, “there was something I wanted to say, but I wasn’t sure how everyone would react. Since you’re the Captain, you need to know, but…” She trailed off, unsure how to proceed.

“What is it?”

She lifted the cover off Twilight’s hand. A bubble of violet swirled around it, as if her own personal magic was trying to repair the damage. As Matt stared at it, he realized it wasn’t her own magic. Tendrils from all around the room, even coming through the bulkheads, were converging on her injuries.

“What do you think it is, Lieutenant?”

“Captain, my best guess is that there is magic in this world, and it’s being drawn to the nearest person capable of using it. Mr. Bradford may have a better theory, but this is still something he’s never even thought of before.”

“But we know for a fact that magic doesn’t exist.”

“No, we don’t, Captain. We assumed that since Twilight couldn’t use magic without draining her container, there wasn’t any. But what if we’re wrong? What if she just couldn’t find what magic was available?”

“That’s a big if, Lieutenant.”

“What else could explain this Nightmare Moon? We already know that Twilight disproves us being in any of the classic works, but that leaves the question ‘where?’.” She sighed, heaving her shoulders. “What am I saying? None of this makes any sense.”

“I know it doesn’t.”

“I just don’t want to be in the unknown. Back on the Langley, when the Japs were bombing us, we didn’t know what was going on. I don’t want to lose Walker because you and your crew took us on at Surabaya as passengers when you didn’t have to.”

Matt remembered the Langley. Converted from a collier and nicknamed Covered Wagon, she’d been ferrying P-40s to Java when a flight of Japanese planes caught her seventy-five miles short. She was bombed so badly that two precious torpedoes from one of Walker’s sisters (the Clemson-class destroyers Whipple and Edsall had been her escorts) were expended to scuttle her. Afterwards, Sandra, her ensigns, and two P-40 pilots named Kaufman and Mallory were accidentally left adrift, winding up in Surabaya just as Walker, Mahan, and their little fleet sailed to Ceylon.

“None of us want to be in the unknown, Lieutenant, but sometimes that’s where we are. What I can guarantee is that this crew won’t abandon you. You’ve started to become part of our extended family in a way.”

“Thank you, Captain. If you’ll excuse me, I need to sleep. I don’t want my drowsiness to cause more harm than good. You should get some rest, too.”

Matt smiled. “In a few minutes. I need to check on the galley. Do you want me to send you something? Ensign Theimer?”

“A sandwich, if you please, Captain,” Karen said. “Some water, too, sir.”

“I’ll get Juan. If the princess wakes up, thank her for me. We all owe her for driving away that Nightmare Moon.”

“Yes, sir.”

He left the wardroom, not noticing Jamie Miller (Pharmacist’s Mate) carry a small medical box past him. He made his way aft, stopping by Mt. Sandwich on the galley counter. “Pretty impressive, Lanier, but how are we supposed to get a sandwich?”

The bloated cook poked his head from behind the stack. “Oh, no, Skipper, these are the rejects! Nothing else to do with them, I guess, but the men will eat anything that doesn’t have Vienna sausages. Here, have one of these, fresh out of the oven,” he replied, placing a tray of steaming sandwiches beside the rejects. “Have two!”

Matt smiled and took a couple. “Lanier, have some sent down to the wardroom, will you? Fresh water, too. Nurse Theimer requested it.”

“Of course, Captain. Juan! Bring these down to the starving nurses!”

Juan, who’d appointed himself the officer’s steward early on, immediately whisked the tray and disappeared down the ladder. A few moments later, he came back for the water. By then, Matt had already gone to the aft deckhouse to talk to his exec.

“Mr. Dowden, I thought you were in your bunk, recovering.”

“Well, sir, I have a job to do. Lieutenant Tucker cleared me since my burns weren’t all that bad. Just a bad sunburn is all, sir.”

“Don’t stress yourself until that heals, Larry. That’s an order.”

“Yes, sir. How’s the princess?”

“She may lose her hands and leg, and she burned herself on the inside. Lieutenant Tucker isn’t sure, but she certainly hopes she lives.”
Larry gulped. “That’s bad, sir, but something the crew needs to know at some point. Silva, particularly, has become somewhat protective of her, I’ve noticed, and so has Mr. Scott. Maybe an official statement, or feed the scuttlebutt through Juan.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” He yawned. “I need some more coffee.” As Matt walked back to the bridge, he contemplated that. I didn’t even notice Silva’s protective nature over Twilight, he mused, but then again, Larry’s known him longer. But I wouldn’t be surprised if Larry was right, to be honest. With that oddly comforting thought, he returned to his pilothouse chair until the end of the watch.

Twilight heard the conversation around her, but her pain-muddled mind could make little sense of what was said. She only had a vague idea that they were talking about her. Maybe they said something about her hands. They hurt beyond anything else she’d ever felt. As she turned her head to rest again, a familiar tale crept into immediate memory:

Once upon a time, in the magical land of Equestria, there lived two sisters…

The tale faded into blackness. Her mind’s eye looked around. There was no one to see, no sound to hear, no object to feel. After a moment, the black faded in splotches, revealing a lone form sitting over a puddle of her own tears.

“Nightmare Moon?” Twilight asked carefully.

“If only Princess Celestia understood the true power of the Caldera, she would have wielded something not even the pitiful Star Swirl the Bearded could ever hope to fully understand. The power under her control would have been beyond. Simply beyond.”

That voice was not Nightmare’s electric rasp. It was softer, like Luna’s. Twilight sincerely hoped that this wasn’t bait. “Are you alright?”

The form turned. Luna’s voice in Nightmare Moon’s body? This was getting weirder all the time. “For my entire existence, I have been divided. During my waking hours, I am Nightmare Moon, but asleep, I am closer to Luna. This is my true punishment for betraying my sister, and even after you and your friends used the Elements of Harmony, my situation has not changed. The Elements merely stripped me of Luna’s body and cast me into this world, where I would not be able to hurt anypony ever again.”

“But if what you said to me earlier is true, then the Caldera’s magic surrounds us.”

“Yes. And that is the reason I have a physical form at all now. It coalesced out of the very magic of the Caldera, which seeps to the world it originated from to bring balance to the system.”

Twilight sat next to Nightmare Luna. “Can you teach me to use it?”

The older alicorn sighed. “If it was only that simple. I cannot teach you to use magic through a shared dream; it is impossible. But there is one way.”

“What is it?”

“Eager to begin, are we? I can teach you the theory behind it, but you must learn the practical application yourself. Caldera magic is not like Equestrian magic in that everyone can wield it the same. It is more of a universal force in physical form--that’s what fills the chamber beneath the island. But you must feel it for yourself. It should be easier since you’ve actually used it before, and you should be able to feel it even now, as we share this dream.”

Twilight scrunched her eyes shut and concentrated furiously on any magic at all. After several fruitless attempts, she shrugged. “I don’t get it.”

“You’re trying too hard. Relax.”

Twilight did so, letting her mental strings feel around her like a spider’s web. She could sense Nightmare Luna’s presence as a deep pit in which magic flowed in but not out except for a single point: her horn. It was surreal. “It’s there. I can feel it.”

“Tell me how if feels.”

“Like it’s always been there, waiting for me to find it. It has a warm aura, like an old friend. Like fond memories. Like home.”

“And that is my lesson to you. Magic is always there. In the beginning, in the now, and at the end. Once you find it, you must never let go, lest you forget everything. It connects us all to time, in time, and through time. Its limits are easy to remember, as Equestrian magic is but one of its many forms. Here, it is magic; in your friends’ home, witchcraft; beyond the stars, a force. Do not forget, Twilight Sparkle.”

“Don’t worry, I won’t. What’s the next lesson?”

“At the moment, there is none. You must learn these things for yourself, without guidance. In time, you will see why I cannot help you, and then you will know magic as it truly is.” Nightmare Luna began to fade away. As she did, Twilight reached to her outstretched hoof. “Remember this, Twilight Sparkle, and you will never be lost.”

“But how am I supposed to make my own lessons? I’m the student, not the teacher!”

“You are always your best teacher, Twilight Sparkle.” With that, Nightmare Luna was gone, and Twilight was alone with herself once more.

Sandra was leaning against the corner of the wardroom, eyes closed as Gray stole through the companionway with surprisingly light steps. She’d taken the night watch to give Karen a break, but had fallen asleep on the empty magic container. Silver moonlight shone softly through the porthole beside her, illuminating her smooth, young face and shapely uniform.

He carefully walked to the table where Twilight still rested under a scratchy but comfortable blanket. The princess’ violet face had regained some of its purple grape-like luster and radish blushes, which meant she was well on her way to a full recovery. He lifted the blanket to check her burned hands and was surprised by the purple-black tendrils of magic wrapped around the wounds, slowly but surely healing them. Her fingers had already gone from charcoal black to a light eggplant hue, and her palms were the color of lilacs.

“Amazing, isn’t it, Mr. Gray?” Courtney asked as he looked up from his near-invisible post behind the table. “Nobody from our world has ever seen anything like it! Actual, physical magic at work.”

“It is, Mr. Bradford,” he agreed. “Even her hands looked okay.”

“Indeed. I’ve been watching all day, and I noticed that the rate at which her magic was reaching her accelerated over the course of the day. Perhaps it started subconsciously, but she then discovered how to use it.”

“Keep working that brain of yours. You’re bound to figure something out.”

“I wish it was only that simple, Mr. Gray.”

“I have a question for you, and Skipper probably has the same one. Do you have any idea where to find fuel?”

“Captain Reddy wants oil deposits? Allow me to consult my books, and I shall find numerous locations for your drilling pleasure, provided that we can build such a contraption.”

Sandra stirred, and Gray held his finger to his lips as Courtney opened his mouth to blabber on. “You’ll wake the lieutenant.”

“Right. If you don’t mind, I need some fresh air.”

Just as he stood up and stretched his legs, the ship rocked with a sudden impact below the waterline. It was a large thump that threw Sandra from the container, and she woke dazed on the floor as Gray raced up the ladder. She crawled up to the deck, dazed, as Matt strode into the pilothouse ahead of her. “Damage report!”

“Mr. McFarlane’s shut down the engines, sir. We must’ve hit some kind of whale.” Norman Kutas replied, keeping his white knuckles on the wheel as the ship began to roll sickeningly, her speed dropping.

Matt grabbed the talker’s headset. “Captain here. Any damage down there?”

“Nothing serious, sir.” Spanky’s voice was thick--he’d been asleep, too. “Couple of loose plates we’re sliding back, maybe a popped rivet on the bottom.”

“A popped rivet is serious damage to my ship, Mr. McFarlane. That’s lost hull integrity that we can’t afford to lose.”

“Sir, her steel’s two-thirds as thick as on the specs. We’ve bypassed and spliced most of the wires on the ship. Her boilers are choked with muck from burning oil for thirty years straight. If a rivet was gonna actually sink us, I’d tell you it would.”

“I’ll trust your judgement, but have the watch get a full report. Can the current watch handle it?”

“They should, sir.”

“Then get some rest. That’s an order.”

Gray waved at Matt from the starboard rail. He nodded and walked over.

“It’s one of those plesiosaurs. A young one, by the looks of it.” Matt exhaled, relieved. “It appears that Courtney found something to gawk at.”

“It’s simply astounding, Captain! We simply must recover it!” the naturalist called from below.

Matt looked again. “Take your notes, Mr. Bradford, before those fish eat it.” He let out a snort and smiled as Sandra shook her grog and joined him. Meanwhile, Gray reverted to his fearsome status, roaring at the deck crew to return to their duties before the ship capsized. For a moment, they watched the frothy water. Then a second, larger plesiosaur surfaced and chomped down on the dead one. The machine guns immediately hammered to life, firing down onto it. It bashed the ship as it flopped in panic, shaking Walker’s thin hull to its core. With a gigantic splash, it retreated underwater for a moment, apparently deciding that food was more important than possible danger.

The wave came down on the starboard side, soaking Matt and Sandra with bloody red water. He spat into the sea and said, “Sorry. Got a bad taste in my mouth. All engines ahead one-third. Let’s get out of here before he decides to sample the side dish, if you please!”

The two came down to the wardroom, where Karen had resumed caring for Twilight. The princess was up and alert, having been nearly thrown from the table. She was also aware of the magic around her hands, and smiled at it.

“Twilight, you need to rest!” Sandra cried when she saw her patient stand.

“I haven’t stood all day.” She arched her back and pulled her arms toward the wall behind her in a classic stretch. “I feel much better now.”

“You’ve been asleep for the last twelve hours because you needed to heal!”

Matt watched this exchange heartily. He sympathized with Twilight, but he also understood that Sandra’s word was law when it came to the crew’s health--Twilight now included. “Princess, it would be best if you did what the lieutenant asks. Just for now. Maybe she can let you get some fresh air tomorrow morning?” He prodded Sandra playfully, but his question wasn’t a joke. It was an order.

“Yes, Captain. I’ll let her back on limited duty tomorrow as long as she heals properly and fully until then.”

Twilight’s shoulders slumped. “It was worth a shot. Say, what hit us?” It was then that she realized that both Matt and Sandra were soaked in watery blood. “Was it a big fish?”

“Yes, and a second gave us a good smack.”

“I can see that. Oh! Before I forget, Captain, I think I can use the local magic now. All I need to do is figure out how.”

“That’s good news, Twilight. The sooner you learn, the sooner we can all benefit.” As he turned to head to his quarters, he could’ve sworn he saw her blush. Maybe it was her will to learn or that she was sweet on the crew. He’d probably never know.

Author's Note

Okay, this chapter is mostly for me, so that I can get the magic theory for this world sorted out. In the meantime, I hope this helps you all understand it as well, and I really hope magic theory doesn't raise more questions than it answers. From experience, it probably won't.

I prepped this on Friday so I could put it out on time without editing, as I'm headed out of town for the weekend. And since my phone hates logging me back into fimfiction, this went up on Friday, too.

Chapter 7

Twilight opened her palm skyward, then curled her fingers and brought her hand back to face her. Beads of sweat rolled down her face, and her hair was soaked in sea spray, her eyes furrowing in concentration.

“Come on, come on,” she grunted.

For a moment longer, nothing happened. Then a mass of dark blue fluid coalesced into a ball aft of the ship, hovering a few feet above the sea. Larry Dowden on the auxiliary conn nearly dropped his morning coffee in shock.

“Holy Mother,” he breathed.

It was after morning GQ, and Twilight was trying to hone in her magic skills for the second day in a row--with Matt's permission, of course. Sandra stood behind her in case something went wrong, and everyone not on duty crowded the deckhouses and galley to watch. Even Matt stared at her from the bridgewings.

Raising her other hand, Twilight moved the ball of water alongside the ship, her arms shaking from the exertion required to keep up with the twelve-knot pace Walker was making. Sandra took a step closer, but kept her distance. A hundred gasps went through the crowd as the princess split her concentration and her arms, moving to build a second ball of water on the other side of the ship. Her body visibly strained from the effort, sweating small droplets of blood* as tears streaked her reddened face. After a few minutes, she gave out and dropped her load, splashing the entire ship and earning a condescending torrent from Gray about paint on the hull repairs not being dry yet. She sagged, and Sandra propped her up.

“No more magic for you today, Princess,” the nurse scolded as she half-carried, half-dragged Twilight down to the wardroom. “You really shouldn’t overstrain yourself so often. I might not clear you for tomorrow at this rate.” Truth be told, Twilight was lucky Sandra was even letting her practice magic. The strain on her body seemed to nearly counteract the healing process, but her insistence that she was fine--and Sandra did want to watch her practice, too--convinced Karen to let her out the day before, so Sandra let her go today.

The crew slowly dispersed, chatting loudly about the possibilities--and how hot Twilight looked when she forgot to wear something over her undershirt and Navy skirt. Even Matt had to admit, she did that as often as she could, possibly to remind the men what they were missing. She was good friends with Sandra, though, and the older (not by more than five years), more military-experienced woman would reign her in when she needed.

“Skipper, lookout reports something on the horizon,” Reynolds reported, “bearing oh-one-oh.”

The lookout’s own voice came in moments later: “Bridge, I swear it’s those cat-monkeys again! Thought they were a squall for a second, but that carrier-sized ship is burning. Looks like a hell of a fight.”

Matt raised his binoculars to his face and zoomed in. The excellent detail of magnification revealed a “hell of a battle”, all right. What surprised him was not the… medieval nature of it, with swords, shields, and spears as the prevailing weapons, but the utter abandon with which both sides fought. The attackers--there was no other word for it, since the disparaging difference in speed made it obvious who started the fight--climbed their ships’ masts and bowsprits and just… charged headlong into a weakening wall of determined defenders. The fight must’ve been going on for a few hours already.

“Sound GQ,” he ordered. The alarm blared throughout the ship, and he pulled a helmet over his head. He was surprised to see Courtney plop one on his balding scalp as the naturalist entered the bridge. He was Twilight’s most enthusiastic observer when she practiced magic and was usually the last to leave, instead spending as much time as he could writing everything down in a spare (and empty) logbook from the late Doc Stevens’ library.

Down below, Sandra and Karen helped Twilight strap her helmet on. The princess winced from the movements, but kept quiet. The two nurses knew she ached from practicing magic. Once her helmet sat at a crooked angle, Twilight tried to climb to the number three gun, her normal station during GQ.

“Oh, no you don’t.” Sandra pulled her back into the wardroom. “You stay here. You’re not going to get yourself killed if I have anything to say about it.”

Twilight grumped, but complied.

Up on deck, Silva scanned the horizon for targets. Normally, Twilight would be on trainer, but Tom Felts took her seat today. He hoped the skinny princess wasn’t too hurt, because she seemed to like firing the gun.

In the pilothouse, Matt watched as one of the smaller ships, which had been circling the battle, put on sail and approached. The battle itself was clearer, too, and he could see that most of the smoke came from a burning ship lashed to the carrier-sized one. The “carrier” was also afire, likely set by the burning sail and masts.

“If that ship gets within three hundred yards, the number three gun will fire a warning shot across her bow,” he ordered.

“Aye, Skipper,” Garrett’s reply came through the speaking tube after Reynolds relayed the order.

Courtney stared at it through “his” binoculars. “If I may, Captain, that ship does look like an Indiaman.”

“It does. Almost exactly like one from the eighteenth century. But what’s it doing here, and why is it crowded in lizards?”

Twilight clambered up the ladder, chased by Sandra. The nurse seemed reluctant to let her charge on the bridge, but Matt waved the two in.

“Captain, whose side will we take? We must help the… what did you call them last night, Mr. Bradford?” Sandra asked.

“Lemurians,” Courtney supplied.

“Yes. Lemurians. They clearly didn’t start that fight, just by looking at ship size and obvious speed!”

“But the lizards have ships straight out of our eighteenth century! They might’ve had contact with other humans.” Even as Matt pressed his case, the number three gun crashed overhead, sending a warning shot into the water. The explosion sent water cascading onto the bow of the “Indiaman”, but all it did was renew the yells and snarls of those aboard, whom Matt could clearly hear. They beat garishly decorated shields and clanged their swords together, as if inviting challenge.

“Mr. Garrett reports that the ship crossed three hundred yards, sir.”

“Acknowledged.”

Twilight walked out to the starboard bridgewing and stared in wonder at the scene, eyeing the approaching ship. At two hundred yards, three flaming balls catapulted from its deck. They arced through the air, bursting into scattered orange flames as they impacted the ocean surface. Seconds later, another round of three came, this time catching Matt’s attention. Two fell short, but one burst alongside the hull, its heat bubbling the paint just below the number.

“Did they just shoot fireballs at us?” Matt asked. Without another hesitation, he walked to the talker’s station, took the headset from Reynolds, and said, “Mr. Garrett, this is the captain. Commence firing.”

Chack was exhausted. Hours ago, after the Sky Priest of Salissa Home, Adar, said the customary before-battle prayer, the Grik came slashing up their lashing ropes and boarded from their nine ships--no numbers of Grik had ever been seen before! For a while, they were kept off the bulwarks, but their sheer numbers pushed the defenders back. There were two moments of reprieve, though: one of the ships morphed into a flaming hulk, setting itself afire with its Grik Fire stores, and another ship as well, but it was lashed to Salissa’s bow and caught the forward tripod. The good news was that the fire was intolerable to even the Grik, so the front was reduced to a fifteen-person line. The bad news was that it was going to consume Salissa if they didn’t defeat the Grik soon and fight the fires. The Grik had already gotten into the holds once, slaughtering younglings and elders, but Keje-Fris-Ar’s injection of himself and his dwindling personal guard, acting as a mobile reserve, to stem the tide and push them back.

He rotated out of the line and greedily drank from the blood-tinged water barrel nearby. His parched throat needed it. He needed it if he was to save not only Salissa, but his sister Risa, who’d received a head injury and had been taken out of the fight. He needed it if he wanted to live and fight another day, if he wanted to prove his worth to Selass, if he wanted to show that despite his pacifist behavior in years past, he was a warrior to behold and honor in the Sacred Scrolls alongside the great prophets revered by the Sky Priests and guide his people from the stars.

He heard three massive splashes and turned just in time to see two more straddle the farthest Grik ship, with the third striking home and destroying it in a magnificent shower of splinters.

“The Tail-less Ones! The Tail-less Ones destroy the Grik!” he cried, wading back into the fight with his heavy axe. The Mi-Anaaka around him built up a thundering cheer as they followed him, using the Tail-less Ones as a rallying cry. The Grik fought with the usual abandon, but it hinted of… desperation. The Grik were terrified. They fought and they bled, but they were fighting each other now as well. Some leapt over the side in fear, quickly being consumed by the flasher-fish in a froth that brushed the side of Salissa with tail-high waves.

Three Grik ships still remained untied to Salissa, circling the battle to attack the Tail-less Ones. But with the crash of mighty weapons, two were splintered into a thousand pieces, their crews howling as they slowly met the surface of the water--and the prolific schools of flasher-fish that awaited them. The third was not so lucky to have as quick a demise, nor were the Tail-less Ones to be able to destroy it quickly. Three concussive splashes straddled the Grik ship, all disappointing but glorious spectacles. As Chack watched, the fluffy clouds that dotted the sky boiled into a dark-grey bought of thunder that centered around the little smoky ship of the Tail-less Ones...

Author's Note

*This is a thing. It can actually happen.

Sorry for the shortness, but I spent all day (and past 2 weeks) in multiplayer shenanigans.

Based on past chapters and Twilight's developing ability in controlling magic, I think we all know what's about to happen next...

Chapter 9

Sandra set a thin blanket over Twilight’s sleeping body. The princess had worn herself out again, but this time she seemed to be able to cope with magic and only needed to rest. God knew what was actually happening to her. All Sandra could do was keep her well-rested and alive.

After tending her patient, she headed to the bridge, where Matt watched the frothy ocean between Walker and the Lemurian ship. “Captain, we’ve suffered no casualties during the battle, unless you count Twilight. I should go over there and offer medical assistance.”

He sighed. “Lieutenant, I will always count Twilight, even though she isn’t officially a member of the crew. As for helping the Lemurians, it sure wouldn’t hurt our resume, but I’m afraid we can’t until the sea calms.” He gestured to the voracious fish to prove his point. “After that, we’ll hope they understand and rig a bosun’s chair… no, that won’t work. Hopefully we can just use a boat.”

“So, nothing until day?”

“I’m afraid so. How’s Twilight?”

She leaned against the railing. “She’ll live. Her body can somehow endure much more extreme physical stress without receiving permanent damage than ours. It has to be the magic. If only she could slow down and teach me how to use it! But I digress. The bases of her wings had little tears in the feathery skin there, as if they almost ripped off--that must have been when she fell--but they’ll heal fine. She just needs a week or so.”

“That’s good. So, she’ll be able to make it across in the morning? I plan on heading over with a delegation of sorts.”

She shrugged. “Probably. Her arms and legs are fine, just a few singed hairs. They’re bound to be sore, though.”

Walker’s searchlights snapped on as dusk slipped to night, pointing to the Lemurian ship. The Lemurians were initially cautious about the unnatural illumination, but quickly recognized the gesture and took advantage of it. Meanwhile, some kind of furnace burned on and on, sending ash curling into the night sky.

Throughout the night, Walker stayed alongside the massive vessel, never letting the Lemurians think for a second that she would leave them to be alone in the world.

“Sir,” Larry Dowden said, “I should be the one to go across.”

“I know, Larry,” Matt replied, “but I’m the captain, so I can do what I want. You can meet the aliens next time. I promise.”

“What about Twilight? She’s wounded, and she’s not a sailor--this past week has been a little rough on her stomach.”

“She’s a dignitary for her own people, whoever they are. She has to represent them. Besides, we’ll have Lieutenant Tucker with us. If Twilight needs a doctor, she’s covered.”

“Aye, sir.”

Matt climbed into the larger launch. Instead risking a fall into the water as his party climbed down the rungs to the whaleboat, they could be in the launch when it was lowered into the water. That was a good thing, because a fall wasn’t just an embarrassment anymore--it was a death sentence. At least the water had resumed its deceptively calm appearance.

Sandra, Twilight, Gray, Bradford, Silva and a few of his goons, and Shinya followed him. Twilight wasn’t wearing the nurse’s uniform Sandra and Karen had given her, choosing instead to don a more comfortable T-shirt while a bandage kept her wings tied to her back. Shinya had his blue Japanese Navy uniform, and Matt decided against making everyone wear blues to keep them from resenting him even more.

Tony Scott was coxswain, and he was excellent even in the unfamiliar launch. As he stopped them from bumping the Lemurian ship by the narrowest margin. Twilight leaned into him, taking in the sea spray while he tried to remain aloof. Both looked up when a rope ladder rumbled down to them.

“Normally, it would be ladies first, but we don’t know what’s up there, so I’m first,” Matt said. “After me, it’s Gray and the security detail. Then you go as you see fit. Remember to behave yourselves.” He began climbing, clinging to the rungs like they were a lifeline. Reaching the deck, he jumped from the rail the ladder hung from and looked around. The Lemurians didn’t have a flag, but could they recognize what he meant? There weren’t any procedures for this kind of thing. Standing straight, he turned aft and snapped a sharp salute. Then he turned back and said, “Lieutenant Commander Matthew Reddy, United States Navy. I request permission to come aboard, sir.”

A Lemurian in purple robes, much taller than the others, blinked what had to be surprise. He was the target of Matt’s question, as he seemed important somehow. The ones around him had weapons, but none were brandished, and all were weary. That was a good sign.
Gray hit the deck next, grabbing an enormous backstay for support. He looked at his hand, shocked, and looked up to Matt. Then he did what he heard the captain do, sticky tar flinging from his hand. Matt nodded, having already seen it.

The tall Lemurian in the robe pulled his hood down, grinning as best he could. Like cats, most of his expressions couldn’t be interpreted from face movements. But his tail swished back and forth like it had a mind of its own. He imitated Matt’s salute and held up his hand. Matt held out his own on impulse, and Gray chuckled.

“Permission granted, Skipper.”

The Lemurian crossed his arms over his chest and said, “Adar.”

Bradford pushed his way to the front of the party, exclaiming, “My word! Does he mean that he is Adar, or that’s his people?”

“Mr. Bradford, please, no more outbursts. They might be confused about who’s actually in charge, and that’s the last thing we need. It’ll confuse them, and I’m already confused more than anyone else here, maybe except Twilight.” He pointed to the tall Lemurian and asked, “Adar?”

He grinned wider, despite having a catlike face, and blinked twice. Then he held out his hands and bowed.

Matt clasped his hands to his chest. “Matthew Reddy.”

Adar tried to get the unusual pronunciation around his mouth. “Mat-yoo Riddy.”

“Close enough.” He named everyone else, but Twilight introduced herself before he could.

“Twilight Sparkle of Equestria,” she said, clasping her arms and bowing.

“Twil-lit Spakle.”

She smiled.

Matt pointed across the water to where Walker kept station. She really was a sight. Streaks of rust ran down her sides, and her recently patched wounds stuck out like sore thumbs under the fresh paint. The lizard firebomb had caused the paint just aft of her number to flake and bubble. But most important of all to Matt, the Stars and Stripes fluttered above the crew, displaying her colors for all to see from the aft mast.

“USS Walker,” he said.

“Waa-kur.” Adar tried to say the strange word, but his reverent tone radiated his people’s solemn, respectful view of the battered ship. He gestured for them to follow him as a path opened through the crowd of Lemurians to an opening in the large deckhouse behind him. Matt strode purposefully through it, turning around when Silva made a strangled, incredulous sound.

“What is it, Silva…?” He stopped. It was suddenly obvious that Adar was male. Every Lemurian was wearing a kilt--very practical, considering their tails--but their tops were covered only for warriors. At least the fur helped, but still… Matt cleared his mind. Not surprisingly, Silva had been the first to notice, but Twilight had wider eyes, and Sandra’s face was red-hot.

“My God,” Newman squeaked.

“Fascinating!” Bradford exclaimed.

“Is this normal?” Twilight asked.

“Not unusual for some people back home,” Sandra muttered in reply.

“Too ‘unusual’ for us,” Felts whispered. Sandra’s blushed deepened.

“Silence!” growled Gray. “keep your eyes up, and stop looking at their dames! You want them to eat you? They’re critters!”

“Not critters, Gray, and more than able to take offense, most likely,” Matt said. “Eyes and hands to yourselves--that’s an order, Silva!”

They entered the deckhouse, where a massive tree grew through the center of a room that took up the entire “ground” floor of the building. The ceiling was unexpectedly high, and ornate tapestries hung from the walls in a decorative fashion. Compared to the outside, the interior was opulent.

Matt focused on the tree itself for a moment. It reached up through the deck and past the ceiling, its thick brown trunk appearing to show great strength as if it held the shrouds above to the ship. Ten to fifteen feet above the deck, it split in branches that ended in greenish-gold leaves that resembled a palm. He only knew a few tree species, and this was not one of them. He turned to the tired, wounded Lemurian sitting on a simple stool nearby rather than one of the plush cushions scattered in groups around the room.

He sat still, but his tail swished back and forth like a calm cat’s. With reddish-brown fur and a slightly obese but strong build, he seemed like a being of power. Caretakers stood around him, but he didn’t seem like he needed help. His wounds were covered in a yellow, viscous fluid, and some looked like nasty slashes indeed. Despite Sandra’s need to help him, he didn’t look like he needed assistance; his dark eyes were clear and focused, devoid of distraction. Startling to Matt was the recognition that he was the one who’d waved the day before. He walked to the seated Lemurian and held up his hand, which was evidently a universal sign of greeting.

“Keje-Fris-Ar,” the Lemurian said, and bowed his head slightly. The others gathered around him followed his lead. “U-Amaki ay Mi-Anakka ay Salissa,” Adar added with respect.

“I guess he’s the big bull. The other one’s probably some kind of witch doctor or pope,” Gray muttered.

Matt almost laughed in spite of himself. “You want to get us killed, Boats? One more comment like that will do.”

“Begging your pardon, Skipper, but we could recite nursery rhymes and they wouldn’t know the difference.”

“But we would, and I don’t think they’d take it lightly if we all burst into laughter while they’re naming their gods or something.”

“Oh… oh! Got it, Skipper.”

“They are quite ugly,” Jarrik-Fas commented. He was Keje’s kinsman and head of Salissa Home’s active Guard. As the two groups observed the other, he spoke quietly to Adar. “Almost no fur, pale and sickly skin.”

“They were quite beautiful driving the Grik away, were they not?” Adar asked.

“They were,” Jarrik conceded, “but we wouldn’t have wanted them to stay overlong if they acted hostile. Gri-kakka are welcome too, when they devour the Grik, but the same applies.”

“Yes, but the gri-kakka would have stayed regardless, hoping to devour us as well. If the Tail-less Ones wished, they could devour us with the power they possess, and they would have already done so. Yet they are peaceful now.”

“They give the Sign of the Empty Hand, yet they obviously carry swords on their belts, and the long tubes some carry on their backs are likely weapons of similar nature to the great ones aboard their ship. Their hands are not empty.”

Adar chose his next words carefully, knowing that Keje was listening to his two most trusted advisors. “Perhaps it is more figurative among their kind. Empty toward us but not all.”

“Or it could mean something else entirely,” Keje grumbled. “But the one who appears to be their leader has an empty hand. I must find a way to speak to him and convey our gratitude. Would you have gone aboard their ship unarmed, Jarrik?”

“No, lord, not that it would do anything in the face of their magic.”

“And what about the purple one?”

“She must be of an entirely different species that the Tail-less Ones,” Adar speculated. “She seems somewhat uncomfortable in the shape of the Tail-less Ones, and remember, she has wings. They appear to be bandaged for now, but they can span a great distance while she flies. And the Tail-less Ones looked shocked at her abilities, which must be magic to them!” Even as he spoke to Keje and Jarrik, he noticed that she was listening attentively to their conversation. “Do you think she can understand us?”

“Ask her,” Jarrik challenged. “I doubt her own magic is much more than the rest of the Tail-less Ones’.”

“Very well.” Adar turned to the purple-skinned one and kindly asked, “Can you understand me?”

She closed her eyes as violet swirls gathered around her hands. They were absorbed into her skin, while others circled her head. The other Tail-less Ones backed away, cautious, and Adar felt that they had a right to. Eventually, though, she opened her eyes again and smiled. “Now I do,” she replied in the Lemurian language. “I needed to hear your conversation so that my translation spell could work, but I understand you perfectly, Adar.”

Jarrik blinked. “Did that just happen?”

“I’m afraid so,” Keje said with awe. “I understood her perfectly. She had every word in the correct place, every phrase said like one of us.”

“Do the Scrolls mention a creature like her,” Jarrik asked.

“Not exactly, but they do speak of tail-less creatures from that departed to the East long ago.” He cleared his throat, still shaken by Twilight’s perfect speech. “Their vessels were like those of the Grik, and they had sails.” He took a deep breath, remembering the language of the Sacred Scrolls that only the Sky Priests bothered to learn. “And upon the longest of the long days, when the Sun Brother was large and close in the sky, they freed their great ship from the bottom of the sea and sailed into the East, into the emptiness of the Eastern Sea.” So rarely had he actually spoken the words despite knowing them by heart. He smiled. Not even the Purple One could best his memory and startle him, only make him uneasy.

Then he noticed that the Tail-less Ones had stopped speaking. The one with very little fur on his head had dropped his jaw. The one with black fur and a different face spoke to their leader, who nodded, wide-eyed.

“This said… speech… yours?” he asked in the language of the Scrolls themselves.

Keje, having heard the words enough to recognize them, lurched to his feet in shock as Adar hit the deck in a dead faint.

Author's Note

Okay, almost didn't get this out in time. This is mostly because I was working on Equestria Vs the Bismarck the past week instead of this. Also, I had to figure out how to mention the Lemurian clothing habits while doing what I could to keep it NOT M-rated. That's harder than it sounds. Those who have read Destroyermen know exactly what I'm talking about. If you don't know, keep your innocence for a few more years.

As usual, Twilight's magic unnerves the destroyermen, and it'll frighten the Lemurians later on. I had them apprehensive instead because I wanted Adar to faint when Shinya spoke in the language of the ancient Scrolls hint: it's Latin.

Feedback on anything about this chapter, story, or where it's headed is welcome.

Chapter 10

Matt watched as Twilight practiced magic again, this time using much less than normal. She was still recovering from her fight with Nightmare Moon, so Sandra hadn’t let her cast magic-intensive spells. The lieutenant herself stood next to him, and Bradford jotted notes in his abused sketchbook, which he had used to help him explore the fauna of the Dutch East Indies before the war with Japan and now dedicated entirely to the study of magic. His pencils were practically dead after the past few days, but he was more concerned with the dwindling amount of empty space in the book.

Twilight hovered just over the deck with her eyes closed, sitting in meditation. Swirls of black and dark violet circled her as she continued to hover. Some were absorbed directly into her skin, while the rest created a field of unusual light.

Matt glanced at his watch: she’d started almost two hours ago. “What was the point of today’s exercise, Lieutenant Tucker?”

“Endurance,” Sandra replied. “She wanted to extend the amount of time she can wield magic, and apparently the easiest way to do that is to actually cast spells for longer and longer periods of time.”

“It’s so fascinating, wouldn’t you agree? Of course you do,” Courtney interrupted. “I can imagine quite the potential for leadership in her future.”

“She’s a princess, Courtney,” Sandra reminded him.

“Of course she is, but she’s in a strange world where her title has no meaning other than to reach an honorary position in the command structure. After all, this is a meritocracy in your Navy, is it not?”

Matt turned to look at the massive ship in whose lee Walker currently rode. “Why do you think they ushered us out like that? Once Adar came to, he went on a jabbering fit, but there were few words afterwards.”

“We are the ‘powerful strangers’. It may have seemed odd for some of them, especially when they were obviously the lesser power,” Gray gruffly said. “Whatever the reason, they practically begged for Twilight to stay with them.”

“I think it was the paste they put on their wounds. Maybe their leader needed a break and knew it would last for at least the rest of the day,” Sandra offered.

“But still, we have a common language: Latin. They could’ve at least told us.” Matt shrugged. “I doubt any of us can understand it, though.”

“Spanky could,” Gray said. “He’s a Catholic.”

“I am,” the engineering officer confirmed, “but only enough to know that’s what it is. I never really picked it up--it might as well be Greek to me if I tried.”

“I never thought in million years that the Jap could speak it! I nearly joined Adar on the floor when he opened up.”

“Not when Twilight spoke their native language?” Sandra asked.

“No, I figured she’d do something like that. She has a spell for nearly everything, as weird as it may be.”

“Tomorrow, we’ll deal with magic again. For now, though, I want you and Nurse Theimer on the Lemurian ship with Shinya and a guard detail. Say… Silva and Felts. They’ll behave themselves if they want to keep their privileges for shore leave. Boats, give Silva a BAR and Felts can have a tommy gun. Make sure Mr. Scott knows and gets the launch ready. And please inform Mr. Shinya that he should tell them why our people are over there when he boards.”

“Aye, sir.” As he walked away, Larry Dowden bounded up the ladder to the group, breathing heavily. “Skipper, you gotta see this.”

“What is it, Larry?”

“It’s Twilight.”

Sandra immediately turned around at the top of the ladder. “Where is she?”

“Behind the ship.”

Matt reached for the railing as he practically skipped the entire ladder, landing hard on the deck. After regaining his footing, he raced aft, flanked by the other officers and crew who’d been forward. The clanging of feet on steel rebounded off the water in an odd way, perhaps as a result of the magic encircling Walker and the massive Lemurian ship.

Behind the destroyer, Twilight had summoned a massive hole in space. Swirls and dimensional echoes rippled around the otherworldly rupture, which had an eerily green glow about it even as it swallowed all light down its pitch-black gullet. Neither ship was currently in its grip, but that limit was uncomfortably close, as the water frothed not ten yards behind Walker’s stern. The sky visibly darkened as if the hole was absorbing the sun’s energy, making Matt turn his attention to Salissa Home for a moment. Lemurians scampered about the massive deck in near panic, while Adar and Keje watched Twilight’s magic unfold with cold, intense eyes.

“Twilight! What are you doing?” Sandra called. From the princess’s reaction, she almost didn’t hear the nurse.

In reply, Twilight’s voice rumbled through Matt’s mind. She’s here. I haven’t felt her magic since… since she stole my crown nearly two years ago. We’ve made amends, and she became my student afterwards, but she never used Equestrian magic in that time. I can find her. I can bring her to safety.

“Who?”

Sunset Shimmer.

“You don’t know what’s beyond that thing!” Silva yelled. “Purple, we’ll find your Sunnybuns at some point, but we gotta pertect our own first! We don’t even have fuel yet. Can you at least wait until then? Until we can actually go looking for her?”
“Silva’s being oddly caring,” Larry murmured to Matt. “I’ve noticed that she leans for Tony Scott, but Silva acts like she’s his.”
“Big brother syndrome,” Gray huffed. “Who’d have known Silva would have that?”

As they watched, again totally powerless to stop her, she nodded and relented to Silva’s surprisingly thoughtful logic. But right after she landed, her head tilted skyward and her arm reached for the fluffy clouds above. A violet ball formed in her hand and shot up, exploding like a firework miles away. “A magic beacon so she’ll find me,” she explained to Matt as she passed him on her way to the galley.

“There are more sides to Silva than I thought,” Matt said. “But that doesn’t change my opinion of him. He’s dangerous and rowdy, and Lemurian society isn’t ready for him on the loose, but maybe that’s a good thing…”

Larry laughed. “You think he’s become Twilight’s guardian angel?”

“Nah,” Gray replied. “We’ll have to wait, I guess. Silva has always been an asshole, then he turns around and does something like that.”

Sandra eyed the princess as she chatted with Silva and Tony. The coxswain was politely distant, while the big gunner’s mate leaned on the counter right next to her. It took her a minute, but she let the magic dissipate from her body and looked weaker afterward. Courtney would have a field day learning about magic as soon as they had fuel, especially its physically altering properties, but for now he was content with scribbling an image of the now-gone green-black hole. She carried this thought across the water to the Lemurian ship half an hour later, and she felt in her gut that Twilight’s magic would someday lead to either disaster or triumph.

Sergeant Alden frowned as his charge Shinya motored across the water without him. With his leg still healing, keeping the Japanese officer out of critical areas of the ship was the only thing he could really do--and besides, Walker never had a Marine contingent aboard. That had been a way of life on larger ships like the old cruiser Houston before she sank, but this ancient destroyer was too small for a permanent detachment of Marines to live as part of her crew, with a battle role too selective.

“Good afternoon, Sergeant,” Twilight said, interrupting his thoughts.

“Good afternoon, ma’am.”

“It’s interesting, being with people from an entirely different way of life than yourself, isn’t it?"

“It is.” He paused. “I hope you don’t mind me asking, but why do you always need to cast some crazy spell every other day?”

She sighed. “Some days, I need to feel the magic flowing through me, to know that it’s still there. Other days, it gets the better of me. Admittedly, it can happen to the best of us. Even Princess Luna. Even Star Swirl, and he died over a thousand years ago.”

“You sound like your country’s seen it many times.”

“Yeah. That’s how Nightmare Moon--that winged person I fought when we helped the Lemurians--came to be. Princess Luna let her jealousy control her and her magic went out of control. Star Swirl, we still don’t know what happened to him or his student Clover the Clever.”

“You need the will to stay strong. The Marines would definitely be a great help to your country.” He smirked and lit a cigarette. “Not that they ever were a bad thing.”

“Is it possible to become one of these Marines?”

“We don’t let women in the military back home. At least not on the front lines. They’ve somewhat become welcome as nurses, though.”

“But this isn’t your world just as much as it isn’t mine.”

Alden let out a puff of smoke and looked down at the skinny purple princess. Her arms needed work, but could easily lift a rifle with a bit of practice. Her legs were fragile but powerful--a trait possibly drawn from being a horse in her world--and her breathing had every ounce of endurance. Whether he liked it or not, Twilight’s human form was a born fighter, and he’d already personally seen her mental prowess.

“I’ll have to see what the captain thinks of it, but yeah, it just might work.”

Sandra tended a female Lemurian who’d taken a nasty cut to the arm, finishing the stitches while her black eyes watched the nurse work. When she finished, she wiped her hands on her uniform until an unnaturally attentive Silva handed her an alcohol-soaked rag. She’d already cared for dozens of Lemurians, and through Shinya and Adar encouraged her counterparts to use her techniques if they needed to.

“Mr. Shinya, could you please ask them for some more hot water, please? We still need to clean the other injuries. And possibly for some of that paste if they can spare it?”

The Japanese officer nodded and translated. Adar relayed the request to some Lemurian younglings, who came back with a large barrel of simmering water and a jar of paste. Silva took the jar and held on to it, presumably so Sandra wouldn’t have to, and handed it off to Felts. Meanwhile, she took a moment to check on Karen, who’d returned to autonomous mode. Seeing the nurse was fine, she walked around, eventually reaching the grove of trees that covered the amidships area just aft of Keje’s hall. There was a male tending another who had to be his sister in the shade.

The female gazed at her as she approached. Then she weakly pointed to herself. “Risa.” She pointed to the male and said “Chack.”

The nurse crossed her arms and said, “Sandra.” Silva noticed that she’d gone and hurried over, lugging his BAR. “Oh, I don’t need you to follow me like that everywhere I go,” she said over her shoulder.

“Sorry, ma’am, but the Skipper would kill me if I didn’t make sure you were okay,” he replied.

“If you must.” She glanced back and saw Shinya and Adar approaching.

“Lieutenant Tucker, Keje would like to speak with us now.”

“Very well. Please, tell her that I hope she recovers well.”

Shinya and Adar translated, and they entered Keje’s hall to speak.

Dear Princess Celestia,

Your former student Sunset Shimmer may have accidentally come across into the world I was transported to recently. I felt her magic enter the world and know that it is my responsibility to find her and keep her safe, just as my friends aboard the USS Walker have done to me. This may take a few weeks or even months, as we are extremely low on fuel, but we will do it.

As for me, I have come to accept the fact that I may be trapped on this world for an indefinite amount of time. I know you have already expressed my feeling to my family and friends, but I must ask that you do it again so that they know that although I hope to return, I understand that it is impossible in all practicalities. As I do not plan on writing you another letter, I would like to thank you for being such a wonderful teacher that remained so even after I became a Princess and moved beyond what I could learn from you. For the final time,

Your Faithful Student,

Twilight Sparkle.

Author's Note

Sorry for not putting this out on the normal Sunday release date, but I couldn't figure out how to end this chapter until now.

I'll be headed off to SpaceCamp next week and hiking for a couple weeks after, so don't expect any updates until mid-July at least. Maybe this little hiatus will help on the writing, too. Just take a break and refresh.

Chapter 11

“What did they want to speak with you about?” Matt asked Sandra as she munched on a ham-and-turkey sandwich with just a hint of mustard.

“Mm,” she replied. “We mostly discussed things like exchanging medical ideas, but the main topic was that Keje wants to come aboard and visit. Tomorrow.”

The next morning, the entire crew was resplendent in their coffee-stained whites as they milled about the ship. Matt sighed. It had been a hair-brained, panicky order from high command at the beginning of the war back home, who thought it’d be harder to spot warships if white sailors weren’t running around them. As if a ship and its wake was easy to find in the open ocean. If one was found, it didn’t matter what color the uniforms were.

The officers and NCOs had 1918 pattern cutlasses from the armory--likely commissioned with the ship--to symbolize their command status and remind the Lemurians, once again, that they were warriors. Courtney Bradford didn’t have one, though, because he somehow cut himself before he completely pulled his cutlass from the scabbard. Somehow.

“That’s some trick,” McFarlane murmured, referring to the Lemurian vessel. “It’s like they have a whole miniature harbor in there, protected by the hull. The stresses involved in that would be large, to say the least.”

Similarly, Twilight watched the approaching Lemurian party. She didn’t have a cutlass, though, unlike the destroyermen, instead favoring a wholly different weapon: hard magic, solidified over the course of several mind-breaking hours. They were ceremonial blades more than anything, like Matt’s own Academy sword, but had a fantasy-esque appeal to their curved T-shaped blades and decorative hilts. As a pony, she would’ve easily held them in a practiced telekinetic grip, but a dual wield in her human hands would have to do for now. Currently, the two mage swords were in their respective hard-magic scabbards, which Twilight had spent most of the previous night crafting to fit the swords (after spending most of the afternoon making the swords themselves).

“Impressive.”

“Is that all you have to say about that?” Spanky asked. “It almost seems like a miracle, since the whole thing’s made of wood!”

She shrugged. “Princess Celestia raises and lowers the sun. It’s a lot harder than it sounds, Mr. McFarlane. I should know--I’ve done it myself.”

“You moved the sun?”

“I had to keep the day cycle going somehow during Lord Tirek’s rampage.”

“I’m not even going to question the logistics of that. An entire country that depends on the sun being moved around the planet is just insane,” Lieutenant Alan Letts, Walker’s supply officer, commented.

“This should be common knowledge to all of you by now. I’ve said it enough times already.”

The lieutenant shrugged. “What if your Princess Celestia can't do it? That would be bad.”

“Which is why Princess Luna can do it, too.”

“Twilight, do you remember that cucumber plant you fertilized?” Mertz interrupted from the counter. “It's already sprouting leaves.”

She turned around. “That shouldn't be happening already. Effects of the spell, perhaps? I've never used it on a non-Equestrian plant before.”

“Whatever it is, I thought you should know. The captain, too, but you're the expert on magic.” Mertz was like that for some reason, instantly accepting her as an authority in her field. Maybe it was Sandra’s example. More likely, it didn't change his position at all. He just served the crew, and she was part of it.

A clamor at the ladder revealed a furry face as the Lemurian climbed the rolling destroyer’s rungs.

“Should I?” Carl Bashear asked, his voice small enough to be ousted by a two-knot breeze.

“No, damn it,” Gray replied as he took the pipe from Bashear. “If anyone's piping aliens aboard Walker, it's me.”

Gray’s sharp whistle of the Bosun’s pipe gave the reddish-brown Lemurian a start before he cocked his head in recognition of tradition. Then everyone saluted, which he found more startling, but he mostly kept his composure as he scanned the human faces. The Chief remained stoic. Twilight offered a moderate bow instead of a salute. Within moments, he found Matt and smiled a very uncat-like smile. He pivoted aft, saluted at flag, and turned back to salute the captain.

“Meeshin ta caamaa-burd, zur?” he asked with great difficulty.

Matt realized that his jaw had gone slack. Sandra gave him an explanation, to which he nodded. A quick glance told him that Courtney was loving it. “Permission granted,” he replied.

Over the next few minutes, the rest of the nearly dozen Lemurians boarded, each saluting the flag and captain. Nothing else could have integrated themselves with the crew as well. They gathered in the galley area, with Lanier serving all sorts of food, including (unfortunately) Vienna sausages. Iced tea circulated the group, which the Lemurians instantly became fiends for. Gray offered Adar a Coke, which the Sky Priest curiously accepted. Within seconds, he spit it back out, soda fizz foaming his mouth. The Chief laughed, patted his back, and drank from the same bottle to show he hadn’t tried to poison the priest.

Twilight spun fantastic stories about her adventures in Equestria, telling the men in English and the Lemurians with her translation spell. While talking to Keje, Matt caught a bit about the Elements of Harmony, which he’d only heard of sparingly, and a literal god of chaos.

“Perhaps Captain U-Amaki would like a tour of the ship?” he asked.

“I will pass that on, Captain Reddy, but know that U-Amaki is not his name, but rather his title--like ‘Captain’,” Shinya replied.

“Oh.”

Keje smiled and accepted Matt’s offer. Taking Adar and Chack with him, along with his usual guards, he followed the American around the ship. When they entered the bridge, Adar freaked about the navigational charts, but an understanding quickly surfaced. Keje was hesitant to show them where he’d been headed, but decided that the Americans weren’t malevolent enough to directly assault the land colony. And so, he indicated Borneo to them.

“So, you’re not an Amer-i-caan like the others?” a Lemurian asked Twilight.

“No. I am Equestrian. Back home, I’m not even a human--er, a Tail-less One. I’m a pony, a four-legger with a tail. More specifically, I’m an alicorn, so I have a magic horn and wings to fly.”

“Wow.”

“What’s it like?” another asked.

“Peaceful. There are no wars, and very little crime as far as I know. We all live under Princess Celestia and Princess Luna, who rule with benevolence and kindness.”

The discussion continued for a few more minutes under Silva’s watchful gaze. Eventually, though, Juan approached. “Cap-tan Reddy and the Lermurian leaders are gathered in the wardroom. He requests that you join.”

“I’ll be there.” She turned to the Lemurians. “Sorry, but I must leave now. The Captain needs me to go elsewhere.”

“Awww,” they collectively sighed.

“Don’t worry. I’ll be back later.” She stood and strode to the wardroom, brushing dust and flecks of paint off her borrowed nurse’s uniform. Her mage swords clanged at her side, but they phased through hatches with ease. A minute later, she opened the pea-green curtain to the wardroom. “Captain, you wanted me?”

“Just for your presence as a head of state. You’ll need to know what we discuss here.”

“Fair enough.” she sat and folded her arms across the table.

Even though Twilight could use her translation spell, Matt communicated through Shinya to prevent confusion among his Lemurian guests. It was tediously slow, however, and quite a bit was lost through the three-language translation, but it made sense to keep the system established through use.

“I don’t know how to compensate for your generosity, Amer-i-caan,” Keje said after a while, “but I can leave you with Chack, to possibly learn your language better, make our friendship less inconvenient. He is most undoubtedly a worthy person, and he has also recently distinguished himself a skillful warrior.”

Chack was astonished. This was an honor he didn’t expect to receive. Could it be to get him away from Selass? “I will do my best, Lord,” he mumbled.

“He’ll be welcome as part of our crew,” Matt replied through Shinya.

“But Chack, noble as he is, is only small recompense. Do you need supplies, repairs?”

“Supplies are fine for now, but we’d like to try some of your fruit if you can spare it. We don’t really have space for gardens. What we really need is that black substance on your stays and shrouds and that you use to seal your seams.”

Keje was silent until the interpretation came through. Then he looked around, surprised. “You have leaks? I didn’t know you had a use for gish. We carry much, just for that purpose, and it is very abundant where we go. It bubbles from the ground at the trading land!” he chuckled.

For the first time in a long time, Matt’s face broke into a genuine grin. It was the first time either Twilight or Shinya had seen it, and Gray grinned too.

“In that case, why don’t have some more tea?”

Author's Note

It's good to be back writing again. I had a good time at Space Camp and the beach, which was a nice change from constant computer use. But I have returned for another year of school, homework, KSP, and story-building.

On another note, I am almost to the point where I can really diverge from the original Destroyermen series. Once I've set up Baalkpan, I can go, "Alright, what can I really do to screw with the characters?" and go ham on it, because after that last bit of setup, I can crank the difficulty settings a bit.

Chapter 12

For the next few days, Walker described slow, fuel-efficient circles around Salissa as the carrier-sized Home plowed through the waves at four knots. Small boats plied back and forth between the two ships at mid-morning and mid-afternoon, when the destroyer slowed to operate her whaleboat. Human-made cranes lifted debris into Salissa’s lower decks, greatly relieving her depleted crew’s few able-bodied Lemurians.

GQ sounded twice a day at dawn and sunset, when they were the most vulnerable to an enemy submarine that might see their silhouette before they saw it. There certainly weren’t submarines in these waters, but it represented a sense of normalcy aboard Walker. The rest of the time, she sailed at Condition III, manning half the guns at any given time.

At the moment, Spanky was watching the sweat roll off of Twilight’s shoulders in his firerooms’ hundred-fifteen-degree heat. She ignored his presence, however, as she concentrated on the destroyed number one boiler. Very little of its shattered wreck remained, especially after its cannibalization to revive number two, but that may not matter now. With Matt’s reluctant permission, Twilight had taken some of her precious magical skills to the depths to try to build an entirely new boiler using nothing but the schematics and hardened magic. Only the number four boiler, the farthest from her work, was running, which made Spanky a bit less nervous. Depending on the scale of any mistake, a failure could blow a hole in the bottom of the ship, vaporize everyone in the forward fireroom, and destroy what fuel remained.

These stakes were why the princess had first practiced with the whaleboat, towed behind Walker by a hundred-foot line. She’d succeeded with various parts, including boiler tubes, firebricks, and steel plating, and it was now time to put it all together.

With a flick of her wrist, the first firebrick materialized and coalesced into a solid, followed by a second, third, and fourth. A steel plate, rolled to the right angles, did the same. Tubes, valves, wiring, everything was coming together perfectly. She pulled a blueprint up to her right, floating in the air, and repeatedly glanced back at it every few minutes to confirm her build. The firebricks clicked into place, and the plates settled on top. Tubes and valves found their resting spots and screwed themselves together.

By the time Twilight let her hands fall to her side, the entire engineering department had gathered in the cramped fireroom. Slack-jawed faces filled the airlock and crowded the catwalk above.

“Now, we test it,” she panted, her chest heaving with exhaustion. She weakly pointed into the new boiler and zapped the walls. “Should be stable for a while.”

Spanky rung up Matt on the comm circuit. “Bridge, Engineering. Permission to fire up Number One.”

An unsteady silence, then, “Mr. McFarlane, this is the captain. Permission granted. We’ll be watching from here.”

The engineering officer nodded to the Mice. within seconds, the two boiler wizards had pumped fuel into the combustion chamber, filled the water tank to the proper level, run through all the necessary checks, and were holding a lit torch to the burner. A water tender stood ready to adjust the water level as it heated, and they were ready.

“Bridge, Engineering. Firing up Number One now.”

Isak Reuben inserted the lit torch. With a whirr, and cacophony of flaming noise, and groaning steam lines, the boiler temperature increased.

“Shut down Number Four. I want this one to push the ship.”

A fireman relayed the order to the men working number four. A few minutes later, the noise reduced significantly as Walker used one boiler instead of two. Then it ramped back up, number one straining its limits.

“Six knots, considerable strain,” Spanky noted. “A damn good boiler though, considering that it’s made out of magic.” Answering the call from the Bridge, he continued, “Yes, Captain, she works! There’s quite a bit of strain that I can see right now, but the damn thing works! Ready to answer Bells as needed.”

Ding. He grinned as the Throttleman opened up as fast as he could, pouring steam into the turbines and opening the bunkers. The stern crouched low, generating a roar of delight as the hard-magic boiler kept up with the pace. It throttled to full, came back down, stood some high-speed turns, and powered through the outside waves.

Then Twilight gestured for the Mice to back away. At Spanky’s nod, they did, and she opened the burner. Heat surged out, causing everyone to sweat even more profusely. Her next move, to blast a bit of magic into the boiler, sent the bow rocketing skyward and her falling back to the bulkhead. Gilbert caught her by the shirt just in time while Isak slammed the burner home, and the entire engineering crew glanced around for a change in pants. For a brief two seconds, Walker had jumped from eight knots to five times that, faster than she’d ever gone, and the sudden, unexpected acceleration had caused the ocean to act like like an uphill slip-n-slide. Combined with the destroyer’s smooth round-bottom hull, there was almost nothing to prevent her from applying for an airplane’s role. In fact, for a horrifying moment, Larry Dowden on the auxiliary conn saw the clouds dead ahead, and Matt held onto the bridgewing railing as he realized he was flying.

Thankfully, Walker crashed into the waves again, drenching her forecastle and diving several feet. When she surfaced, water fell from her dripping anchors, and she shook it off like a showering hound. Nobody fell overboard, since the entire deck had been cleared of anyone just in case the boiler did something weird, which was extremely lucky, but Lanier couldn’t believe his eyes when he received the all-clear and saw seawater on the Coke machine of all things.

“Bridge, Engineering,” Spanky shuddered after picking himself back up. “Shutting down Number One and reactivating Number Four. Could the Captain call for a meeting in the wardroom? This is gonna be one hell of a report.”

Author's Note

Sorry about it being Monday, but I didn't know how to proceed without referencing stuff too much, so I just went with this. I'll get to the end of the setup soon, I swear, but this was late and I pulled it out of thin air.

That ought to revolutionize naval engines forever, provided they get a source of magic to be used as fuel.

Chapter 13

When Twilight was invited to the wardroom, the meeting had already been going for an hour. She’d sat in the galley, solemnly watching the cucumber plant sprout new leaves. Any officers and NCOs aboard Salissa were recalled, but underway repairs continued nonetheless, and her help was not welcomed. Magic seemed to be considered a threat by everyone.

“Maybe I should just never use magic again,” she said. “I’m always endangering the ship in some way.”

Mertz set a sandwich on the counter in front of her. “Don’t say that. You beat that flying girl What’s-her-name, remember? She could’ve easily killed us all.”

“I sent the entire ship ten feet into the air!”

“Think on the bright side. We could use that somehow else, say, for engines on Big Sal over there.” He gestured to the massive Lemurian Home and its two freestanding tripod masts, gracefully catching a good wind with their enormous sails.

“How do you know that it won’t cause some catastrophe?”

“I don’t.” Mertz ate a biscuit as he contemplated his next words. “I’ll bet the Captain doesn’t either, and that’s what he’s worried about.”

Juan popped out from the passage. “Miss Twilight, Cap-tan Reddy requested you join the meeting now.”

“Coming.” She stood and straightened her clothes, nervously twirling her hair as she approached the wardroom. “Captain, you sent for me?” she asked, pulling the pea-green curtain aside. All of the officers regarded her wearily, as if she was a threat that needed to be addressed. That did not suit her hopes.

“I did,” Matt confirmed. “Please, sit down.” He gestured to an open chair at the end of the table, presumably so everyone could watch her. When she sat, he began: “Twilight, what is the one thing that I ask when you practice magic aboard my ship?”

“To not endanger the ship or crew in a life-threatening manner.”

“Would you count submerging the bow under several feet of water as threatening?”

“Yes, Captain.”

It was Larry Dowden’s turn. “Twilight, do you realize that the entire ship became airborne for a solid five seconds?”

“No, I did not, Mr. Dowden. I was below, nearly flattened against the bulkhead.”

“We’re lucky that Walker was taken off Condition III during your experiment, or someone would’ve gone over the side.”

Spanky raised his fingers from the table. “How much power do you think we can get out of burning magic like that?”

“Mr. McFarlane, this is not the time to ask that question.” Matt, normally cool and collected, was barely succeeding at hiding his frustration behind a facade of calm.

“Skipper, it’s something we need to know.”

“Mr. McFarlane,” Twilight said, “the combustion of magic has never really been tested before, so there is no conclusive evidence to support a certain amount of power or heat from it.”

“How much danger would you put the ship in to test that?” Matt sternly asked.

“None, sir. I just wanted to know if there was any data on it.”

“Twilight, you do understand that this is still my ship, correct?”

“Yes, Captain.”

“And that by joining my ship and crew, you must abide by the regulations that I put in place?”

“Yes, Captain.”

“It’s too early for expulsion, and we may need you anyway. If I restrict you to necessary duties, there may still be enough danger in how you accomplish your tasks. So, until we reach Balikpapan, you are restricted to your quarters.”

“Yes, Captain.” She looked down, her face blushing with shame. “If that’s all, I’ll head there now.”

“It is.”

Early the next morning, Walker steamed on full alert as the sun slowly began to peak over the horizon. Even so, it was Chack’s keen eyes that saw the fishing craft and stopped them from hitting it. Matt called him down to speak with the fisher’s occupants, and the Lemurian slid down the forestay. It didn’t take long to explain the destroyer’s existence.

For a day, they continued to dawdle around Big Sal. The time was actually peaceful, and everyone took a much-needed nap at least once. By the time they reached Balikpapan Bay, the destroyermen were ready to take on the world--provided that they found fuel, food, girls, and allies. Matt finally allowed Twilight to leave her quarters once Walker slid to a tired halt. The old ship dropped anchor near the middle of the bay, sagging the chain like it was an ancient, weakened limb.

“This is such a beautiful city,” the princess observed, nodding at the general festivities bound to begin aboard the newly arrived Lemurian Home. “It’d be a shame if it was destroyed by some sudden political upheaval.”

“Looks like Chefoo.” Gray crossed his arms. “Maybe a miniature Shanghai at most.”

The princess turned and glared. The Chief laughed it away.

“Mr. Gray, Princess Twilight, we’ll head over to Big Sal shortly,” Matt interrupted as he smoothed his sweat-glossed hair. “Please make yourselves presentable for the occasion and ready the detail. Dress whites and crackerjacks, Mr. Gray.”

“Yes, sir.” As the burly man strode down the ladder, the captain turned to Twilight. He was wary, she quickly realized. Wary of her and her magic. The last few days must have been a more tremendous strain on him than she’d originally thought, even with her temporary restriction.

“I’m sorry, Captain. It was extremely careless of me to forget about your duty to your men, and mine to all of you. I suppose that I’m much like Mr. Bradford in a way. Always wanting to discover new things, to continually learn.”

He nodded. “How are we going to continue with this if you don’t know the extent of your abilities? Twilight, this is something we need to know, but we have bigger priorities: fuel, food, a friendly port to rest our tired ship. Perhaps you can learn during our stay, but please don’t try new things while we’re underway.”

“Yes, Captain. Now, I believe that I should change out into something more appropriate for meeting foreign dignitaries.” With that, she walked to her shared quarters with Sandra and Karen. Sandra was already wearing a fresh uniform. Not half an hour later, the detail was on Salissa, and Matt sent Courtney back to change.

“Brad-furrd teach I speak your language,” Keje greeted. A grin spread across his face, clearly proud of his speech. “Good, eh?”

“That is great indeed,” Matt replied through Chack’s.

“Ah! Chack speak good for us!”

“He is a fast learner. I’m afraid I haven’t been able to learn your language, though.”

Keje smiled still. He and Adar both wore their best livery this night: freshly polished bronze armor and Grik claws over Keje’s brownish fur and carefully tended purple robes for Adar’s silver.

Matt politely excused himself and leaned on the rail overlooking the harbor. In the middle of the bay, Walker finally took a rest. It reminded him somewhat of when he was first given command. Back then, she tugged against her anchor like an aging thoroughbred, not quite out but still too old to race. Now she just looked tired, as if the chain weighed her down. A jet of water streamed from her overworked bilge pumps, and her lights had begun to fade from yellow-white to orange. Rust streaks marred her patchwork sides like sores, and the number paint flaked and crumbled.

“Some new paint and she’ll be new,” Sandra offered, sliding next to him.

“It’ll take more than paint,” he admitted. She looked into his eyes, seeing all of his pain and sorrow, and placed her hand on his arm, burying it deep. Deeper than it had been.

“Captain, are you going to join us?” Twilight called. She waved from where she’d been in deep philosophical discussion with Adar. “We’re going to shore to meet the mayor.” Before he could respond, she said something in Lemurian to the shipwrights inspecting the forward tripod’s damage. They greeted her back and explained their insights.

It took an hour, but Walker’s shore detail was soon swept up in a massive throng that echoed through the entire city. When Keje had told Matt that Baalkpan was a “land colony”, he’d thought of it in diminutive terms: small, easily defensible. Now he could see that it was an understatement. It would have been like evacuating Surabaya or Manila back in his world. He noticed that much of the lower market’s smells brought on a sort of deja vu in their similarity to home, and the shops and stalls farthest from the bay sold more expensive items like jewelry. And everything was on stilts. Houses, storage, and kitchens stood on pillars that held them above the free-roaming bazaar that was Baalkpan’s pulsing lifeblood.

Twilight spent more time wandering the market than everyone else, but then again, she could teleport. Her notes on the local economy and customs would no doubt be of great value to them later on. Like Courtney loved natural phenomena, she loved everything that could be studied. Plus, her exchange with the local Lemurians showed Matt that they’d been expected. It shouldn’t have been a surprise. The destroyer steamed rings around Salissa for a day after encountering fishing boats.

Eventually, the celebration quieted. They had reached a great building, not only on thick pillars, but also one that wrapped around a massive tree in the center which looked much like the smaller one on Salissa. Only this tree stood taller than anything in the city, even the massive tripod masts bobbing on their docked Homes. Its leafy bough branched just above the building’s roof, providing shade for the large park around it.

“Greetings, Nakja-Mur, High Chief of Baalkpan!” Keje called to the building. Now that everyone was silent, he seemed unnaturally loud. “I am Keje-Fris-Ar, High Chief of Salissa Home, come from the Southern Lands with mighty friends, trade, and tales to tell. May we come aboard for counsel?”

A moment later, a powerful voice boomed in reply. “Come aboard, and welcome, Brother. It has been a long while since Salissa Home entered these waters, and some of your tale has arrived before you. Come, eat and drink and tell me your tale. Bring these mighty friends of yours. I would meet them!”

Adar suddenly pulled Keje back and whispered something in his ear, likely a caution or urgent question. The bear of a Lemurian hesitated slightly, then clapped his friend on the back and scampered up the singular ladder, which seemed to be the only way up. Adar glanced back with uncertainty, then followed. Matt motioned for Sandra to go first. He didn’t consider watching her climb when he gestured, but he caught himself watching her. Shaking his head, he saw that the other men had done the same. He coughed and waved Chack closer.

“Why is everything so high off the ground?”

“Ah, it is tradition? Yes. Reminds of old. Also, keep dry when high water, and bad land lizards not climb good.”

“Makes sense!” he said, making the twenty-foot climb after Twilight reached the top.

The hall was big from the outside. Once inside, it was enormous. Not only did it hold all that came along, it did so with ease--plenty of room remained to move around or add the many locals who came as well. It looked like a basketball court to him, but was lit by fishy-smelling oil lamps. Huge beams supported the ceiling, surrounded by gaudy tapestries that left no wall uncovered. It was much like the Great Hall on Salissa, but larger in every dimension, even the dominating tree in the center. Maybe five hundred occupants conversed animatedly, and a bar laid out with colorful dishes and drinks lined one wall.

Matt grabbed a pitcher of amber liquid for himself and Sandra. Bradford took one, too, as did Twilight, but Gray scowled at the security detail before they even moved. The captain smiled and peered down his pitcher, sipping experimentally. “Hmm. Tastes sort of like beer.”

Bradford took a swing and smacked his lips. “Ah! Beer! We have more in common than we could have imagined! The alcohol content feels rather high, I may add.” He winked at Twilight, who guzzled half of her pitcher and pounded her chest after trying some of the local fare. Her antics drew laughter from the crowd.

“One each, Mr. Gray,” Matt allowed. The security detail would’ve looked at him like starving puppies if he hadn’t. He and Sandra followed the flow, trying some spices here, some there. Some were mild, others strange, but a few, like the one Twilight had tried, were downright brutal. At least Big Sal’s Lemurians were there to guide him. Most of the locals simply stared.

“Cap-i-taan Riddy!” Keje’s cousin, and the captain of his personal guard, stood patiently. “Com plees.”

Bradford must have been busy teaching English if half of Salissa’s people already knew some words.

“Of course. Mr. Gray? Please supervise our protectors. Lieutenant Tucker, Mr. Bradford, and Princess Twilight, would you accompany me?”

They followed Kas-Ra-Ar through the crowd, threading the needle between boisterous conversations to the far side of the hall. Finally, they reached a less-packed area, where Keje and Adar stood near a seated figure in red and gold robes. He was easily the biggest Lemurian they’d seen, but no he gave no impression of sedentary weakness. His dark fur had only the slightest hint of silver, and it was freshly combed, sleek and shining. An aura of power radiated from him, coming from his intelligent eyes and imposing build. As they approached, he thundered a greeting and held his palm outward.

Matt returned the gesture, and the Lemurian’s eyes flicked to his Academy sword. Keje quickly spoke, and Courtney translated Adar’s words to Matt.

“He’s never seen someone make the Sign of the Empty Hand when his hands aren’t empty. I believe he’s referring to your sword.”

Matt glanced down at the sheathed ceremonial weapon. They’d worn the swords to seem less exotic, but it never occurred to them that their arms would cause trouble. Keje would’ve warned them against some breach in convention. “Um, tell him that my hand is empty. Among our people, only the unsheathed weapon is a threat because it signals intent. The sign is a token of friendship and reflects the intent more than the actual fact.”

“So it is a lie?” Keje and Adar became uncomfortable. Sandra squeezed Matt’s arm before he could react to a surge in anger.

“No, it is not. We come as friends, as we came to the aid to Salissa Home. We wish to be friends with all the People. Because our intentions are friendly, not making the sign would have been a lie. Among our people, we can go among friends and remain armed. Is that not the case here?”

Nakja-Mur sat for a moment after the translation, collecting his thoughts. Then, slowly, his lips split into a grin. A shift to Keje and Matt could tell that he was already smiling. “I tell Nakja-Mur you are always armed because you are warriors. You ship made for fighting only. Not so?”

The discussion had finally reached this point. Matt hadn’t denied it, but always downplayed the idea. Now there was but one answer.

“USS Walker is a ship of war,” he admitted.

“Who you fight?” Adar asked. “Why you need a ship only for war? You fight all the time?”

Matt realized that it was the first time he’d heard the Sky Priest speak English. “We fight our enemies… and the enemies of our friends.”

“You fight Grik?”

“We already have.”

“You fight again?”

He glanced at his companions. All three knew that his next words would have drastic consequences for them all. He sighed.

“If the Grik come and you cannot fight them alone, we’ll help. That’s what friends do. But we cannot do all the fighting for you.”

“Keje tell fight. Grik fight bad, but hard. New way, bigger ship. More Grik than before. Maybe Grik come… bigger, like long ago.”

Matt was concerned about the Grik, but he knew Walker could handle many of them at once without problem. They were the “Ancient Enemy” and were regarded with superstitious dread, but they were “out there”. The Lemurians had good reason to fear them, of course. However, his limited conversations gave him a sort of “pirate” model, one that didn’t fit here. He’d been trying to shift the talks to gain a good relationship with them and create a limited alliance for food and repairs, chasing off a few Grik every now and then.

But they were afraid that the Grik would attack here. Baalkpan’s people were vulnerable, blatantly obvious now, even compared to their seagoing cousins. There were no measures against any serious threat, aside from every house being built on top of stilts. This would not be an easy evacuation, and besides, there were enough people to fight off more than six Grik ships at a time. They may be complacent, but they were strong and numerous. Had something been lost in translation?

“If Grik come bigger, there be plenty fight for all,” Adar said.

Matt nodded gravely at the Sky priest and tow leaders. Then Twilight spoke up, unknowingly cutting off his next question.

“I am Princess Twilight Sparkle of Equestria, High Chief Nakja-Mur,” she said in Lemurian, bowing low for a second. “I may not have other people of mine with me, but I know what we would say to your generosity, and I thank you for it.”

“You are the one who even the Tail-less Ones say have magic?”

“Yes, Chief.” She was carefully picking her words, Matt noticed, as if she only conducted diplomacy when she absolutely needed. “I can control that which is called magic among my own people.” As proof, she rolled her hand, palm facing up, and sprouted a flower from it. “A simple spell, but one that can easily display my gratitude,” she said, picking the flower from her hand and handing it to him. He smiled at her gift, then asked what she wanted in return.

“If you don’t mind, could you teach us more about the Grik?”

Author's Note

Three words: I. Hate. Diplomacy.

Next chapter, they'll start to be called 'Cats.

Chapter 14

An ancient Lemurian adorned in the flowing purple robes of the Sky Priests came out a room separated by a curtain as if he’d been waiting. As he spoke in the Lemurians’ Sacred Tongue, Courtney translated from Latin to English so the destroyermen could understand. At the bare bones, the Grik were evil, they drove the Lemurians from their paradise, and somewhere in that time, the first Homes were built. Some landed on hostile shores, some never reached land, but some finally reached this area, the Malay Barrier, and set up shop. And from then until now, the Grik faded into legend.

“Mm-hmm,” Twilight mumbled every so often, taking mental notes as the tale unfolded. All around them, other Lemurians crowded around to listen. They reminded her of kittens huddled around their mother, but the context was a little weird for her to try to explain it to them. Instead, she started calling them ‘Cats to shorten her thoughts and left it at that.

The elderly Sky Priest, Naga, eventually moved on to the original Tail-less Ones. They’d come damaged by storm, their small and fragile Homes creaky and leaking. They traded, especially one called “Salig Mas-tuur,” but eventually he was banned because the Tail-less Ones’ leaders feared sharing too much information. Then he switched to a language dead among even his people, but eventually was kept aboard his ship except for essential exchanges.

After a certain amount of time, some of the Tail-less Ones wished to return home despite knowing that it was gone. They departed to the west with none of their greatest magic and only the crudest of Scrolls. The other two ships went East, off the edge of the world. They left nothing behind, apart from the pendant Naga hung from his neck on a golden chain.

“Isn’t it beautiful?” he asked, opening it to show the destroyermen.

“The HEIC Ship Hermione,” Matt read from the word carved into the inner lid of the pendant, which was really a sailor’s compass. “The Honorable East India Company.”

“As in the British East India Company?” Sandra asked.

Courtney examined it with scientific fascination. “I’m afraid so, my dear. It appears that we are not the first that this predicament has happened to.”

“Do you know where they went other than to the east?” Twilight questioned Naga.

“No, but one of us, Siska-Ta, found the teachings of Salig Mas-tuur and proclaimed to the world to create the Sky Priests. She was a Great Prophet.”

Naga continued to tell them about Siska-Ta and the Tail-less Ones through translation, and other ‘Cats soon crowded around to listen. It was obviously a tale well loved among the Lemurians. Once Naga finished, though, they began to disperse to their respective cliques.

“Is there anything else you need?” Nakja-Mur asked.

“Yes. We need what you call ‘gish.’ Lots of it,” Matt replied through Courtney and Adar. “Keje told us that much can be found around here.”

“You have a need for much gish? Of course. And a pier will be set aside for your iron ship. She must be very tired after the tales Keje-Fris-Ar has told. Make repairs, and we will supply what surplus we have to assist you.”

“And in exchange, USS Walker and her crew will help you fight the Grik.”

“Can you not fight the Grik alone? Is ship ship not made for fighting only?”

Matt sighed. “USS Walker is a ship of war, but we cannot fight every battle for you. That’s not what friends do. What we can do is help you prepare, so that you can kick the Grik when they come. And the first thing we need for that is gish. May I have my crew search for a suitable site?”

“Of course. Baalkpan is a prosperous city, and the People shall fight the Grik once more. Perhaps we can drive them back to their Sacred Home in time?”

“Perhaps. Thank you, Nakja-Mur, U-Amaki Ay Baalkpan. We are forever in your debt.”

“No, Cap-i-taan Reddy,” the large Lemurian assured. “We are simply repaying you in kind for your actions in saving Salissa Home.”

Author's Note

Okay, that should be most of the pleasantries (finally). From here on out, it's more action, and less standing around talking. Except next chapter, which was ironically completed before this one. Take it as a sorry for taking so long.

Chapter 15

Sunset Shimmer rubbed her head to clear the horrible stench from her mind. A second later, it came back. After she failed a second time, her eyes shot open and she knew her surroundings really did smell. There was almost no light in the room apart from a dim lantern near a staircase and that which seeped between creaky boards that rose and fell. And the stench was overpowering. She had to plug her nose just to stay conscious.

Sitting upright, she saw several cages lining the walls--or hull, since she felt the rocking motion of a ship--filled with terrifying and terrified creatures. None of them looked like they had eaten properly in over a month. All had shed quite a bit of fur as well, which piled under their droppings. Their eyes were sunken and lost. Fear was the captain aboard this ship.

The deck was covered in slimy ballast stones. Oh, Celestia, I’m in the bottom of the ship. Her breathing quickened and her heart hammered in her chest. Inspecting herself, she found rudely bandaged claw gashes in her legs, and her clothes were tattered.

“You’re awake. I thought they’d think you dead and eat you,” came a fear-filled male voice from the back of her cage. He sounded like he almost couldn’t control his panic.

“Who are you? Who are they? Where am I? Why is everyone in a cage? And… wait, did you say eat me?” she bombarded.

“I don’t know where we are except that this is the hold of a sailing ship. We’re prisoners…” He suddenly got quieter. “And we’re rations.”

“Rations? Oh, Celestia, I think I’m gonna have a heart attack.”

They stayed quiet for a few minutes as she tried and failed to calm herself.

“But if we’re food, who’s eating us?”

“The lizards.”

“They’re not in here right now. Maybe we can escape.”

“No. it’s impossible.” He shakily pointed to the stairs. “We have to go through the entire crew, and when they’re hungry…” His eyes flashed to a beach of carnage.

Sunset sank into the back corner opposite the man. “So what do we do?”

“Nothing.”

“And who are you?”

The light she’d seen in him flickered out. “Captain David Kaufman, United States Army Air Corps, serial number…”

As she tried to make herself as inconspicuous as possible, she wondered how a shipful of lizards could break a man like Kaufman.

Ten minutes later, she found out.

Author's Note

I know, this on'es really short, but this little bit brings in Sunset as an actual part of the story, so yeah... I guess this is for taking so long on the last couple of chapters.

No, I don't plan on going into lizard detail. That stuff nearly gave me nightmares when I first read it because I have an imaginative mind. And it wasn't in too much detail either, so don't expect that much on this front.

Chapter 16

Using what fuel she had remaining in her bunkers, USS Mahan sailed alone. With an injured crew and broken hull, she limped into the harbor where Tjilatjap was supposed to be. Scarred and depleted further, she fled back out to sea and edged closer to the Indian Ocean. Eventually, she found shelter in a secluded bay. As her exhausted crew scouted the shoreline from afar, they spotted an unbelievable but welcome sight.

Resting on the beach, its floats filled with sand and electronics partially corroded by sea spray, was a fully loaded PBY flying boat. Mahan’s crew immediately filled its tanks and began repairs.

Once it could fly, they were going to find Walker. Her captain needed to know what happened to Tjilatjap. What happened to Captain Kaufman when he went ashore.

What happened to them.

Matt, Twilight, Gray, Bradford, and Spanky trudged along the muddy path that had been carved through the Borno jungle to where Bradford had told the Mice to drill for oil. The two firemen were reluctant to lose their fireroom pallor, but had told Spanky that they were willing to drill if it meant filling Walker’s bunkers. Currently, the engineering officer was explaining the concept of oil drilling to the princess.

“So you just carve a big hole in the ground and it comes up?”

“Yes and no. We still have to pump it up. Once we do, we refine it to something Walker can use. That’s what the number three torpedo mount is being modified to do--refine crude oil into fuel.”

“Why can’t we just use the stuff that Nakja-Mur told us about, a bit farther up the coast? He said it bubbles from the ground.”

“We need more than that can supply us at a time. Pumping it from underground gets us more bang for our buck, and faster. As you can see, the main pipe is gonna come down from the drill site down to the refinery by the river, and then to our fueling pier once we build it. By comparison, we’d have to collect it in buckets and haul it back if we went up the coast.”

“Oh.” Her face became downcast.

Spanky patted her back. “It’s alright. I didn’t expect you to know. Ah, the rig!”

Isak Reuben snapped to attention and saluted, nudging Gilbert to do the same as they came closer. “Captain!”

Matt returned the salute. “Rig looks good.” He turned to Courtney. “Are you sure that there’ll be oil down there… here?”

“Of course, Captain! Back home, this entire archipelago was the perfect spot for oil reservoirs to form--so they did. Given that the general topography we’ve seen so far differs mainly in sea level, there should be no reason for oil not to form here. But you already knew that, didn’t you? Of course you did.”

Twilight’s arm grew goosebumps. She nervously rubbed them, her eyes darting around the drill site. Something was stalking them from behind the trees.

Isak saw her apprehension. “Don’t worry, Princess, there’s no threat. We haven’t seen one of the big meat-eaters in a few days. They know to keep away for now.” He looked down to hide the surprise he had over speaking to royalty without being spoken to first.

“Alright,” she said, accepting his explanation but still wearily scanning the trees. Her highly sensitive ears pricked to a rustle in the leaves. It became louder and had the faint sound of drooling carnivore. She whirled around and extended her hand, blasting a small fireball in the direction of the sound. It was a bush.

The bush erupted in magic flame accompanied by a terrifying roar of fear. Beyond the bush, trees crashed to the ground as a massive animal sprinted the hell out of dodge. Twilight’s sixth sense stopped freaking out, and she relaxed. The flame died without leaving so much as a burn mark. Around the group, Lemurians flinched with curious dread.

Naturally, Courtney rushed to the bush. He pulled a crumpled paper from his pocket and began scribbling. “I really must carry a satchel of supplies,” he muttered to himself as he ran out of space to write.

“Mr. Bradford,” Matt called, “please stay inside the perimeter, if you will.”

“Of course, of course,” Courtney replied.

Matt turned to Twilight. “Did your magic tell you there was something?”

“No. I guess I’m still Equestrian at heart. Ponies are prey, aren’t they?”

“Indeed!” Courtney had returned from the bush. “Being a herbivore does that, I’m afraid. But you already knew that, didn’t you? Of course you did.”

Again, the captain’s attention moved, but to the Mice this time. “How is the drilling going, ah…?” He trailed off, not knowing exactly how he was going to refer to them face-to-face. He waved it and moved on.

“It’s as good as it’ll get without the proper equipment, sir. As you can see, we’re driving a brontosarry around the drill to turn its gears. It drives the bit down--which we have to sharpen every so often since it’s copper--and gives us a few more feet. Should reach Mr. Bradford’s oil in a day or so, weather permitting.” As Isak talked, Gilbert was busy driving the bit again, the sharpening complete.

“Excellent! Although I may tell you, the reservoir may be somewhat deeper than back home due to the changing sea level,” Courtney interjected.

“We’ll keep that in mind, sir.”

“Why don’t we just use a digging spell?” Twilight asked.

Gray’s mood internally dropped.

“What do you mean?” Matt’s tone was weary.

“A standard Equestrian digging spell. Miners use it all the time. I don’t see a reason not to now, especially since you’ve already built the pipe and refinery.” She gestured down the path, where Walker’s Swiss cheese of a torpedo mount had morphed into small refinery stacks. From the drill to the refinery, a large tube of giant bamboo trunks and leaky amber joints rested on the hill to transport oil. For now, it was empty.

“I mean, we could, and it’d save us a hell of a lot of time,” Spanky thought aloud. “I say we go for it, sir. The sooner we can refine that oil, the sooner we can fill our bunkers and search for Mahan.”

Matt’s eyes flickered to the other members of the group. Bradford was beyond excited, naturally. Gray’s neutral face didn’t betray his apprehensiveness. Spanky wasn’t as pumped as Courtney, but he was willing.

“Alright. I think most of us will head back to the ship. Give us five minutes before you start. Mr. Bradford, you can stay if you like. Just, Twilight--” his eyes turned dark-- “don’t get anyone killed.”

Twilight could feel the magic flow through her veins as she reached down and took a handful of dirt. The ground itself pulsed with power. Good. The more conducive the channel, the more control she had, and all the better if the target material was an excellent conduit, too. More control meant less power was needed to do the same thing.

She snapped her fingers, and a massively tall chunk of rock floated out of the pit. It dripped with oil as the bottom hundred feet reached the surface. Bit by by bit, she let the pressure of the trapped oil push the rock higher, and her spell changed to cut the rock into manageable chunks. In the distance, she heard Walker’s alarm bell ring, but she paid it no heed. The final few feet of rock exploded into the sky in a fountain of black, sticky crude oil. Then she realized that her levitation spell was pulling the oil with the rock, and she let go. The fountain died, but not before everyone was covered in the tarry liquid.

The Lemurians scrambled to finish the drill and connect it to the pipe. In a few minutes, they took the brontosarry rig apart and began to replace it with the actual well and pump, which they rigged to the brontosarry again. Twilight helped with the heavy stuff, while the Mice directed construction. Courtney did his best to memorize the events so he could put them to paper later.

Down the pipe, the amber joins sprayed crude all over the ground. It was leaky as hell, but it worked, and the Lemurians down at the refinery lit the fires as they were instructed. Black, thick smoke billowed from the stacks for a few minutes before dying down to a steamy wisp.

Twilight brushed her clothes, pulling all of the oil off, and took flight to check on Walker. The GQ bell still rang in her mind. She cast a scrying spell to watch over the bay and found found several Grik warships. Walker was firing at some of them, but one was escaping. Without a second thought, she picked up a chunk of rock in her magic and threw it as hard as she could. It flew like a javelin and speared the Grik ship at a speed similar to Walker’s 4-inch-50 deck guns, sending splinters of stone in every direction. Even as its impact finished, a second and third slammed into the “Indiaman” at the waterline, puncturing the hull in dozens of places. The ship sunk in minutes.

As Twilight landed, she felt the magic in the ground reach out to her, rejuvenating her. She patted Courtney’s shoulder, materializing magical paper in her hand. The two walked down to the refinery, where a boat would be there to take them back to Baalkpan, and told him that her magic paper had all the data he would want to record for himself.

Author's Note

I'm back from the dead! I have so many projects going on that I completely forgot (excuses, excuses...), so a very big thank-you to ScarletRhine for the wake-up call last Wednesday.

The FRC build season is over, so that's out of the way (as is Mardi Gras), but as I've probably mentioned before, world-building from scratch is harder than it sounds, especially when you're the only one who actually understands what's going on. The fact that it's a space opera based in an alternate history doesn't help. So I gave it some overdue love and forgot literally everything else.

Hopefully, I'm back on track with this story. Sorry about the wait.

Chapter 17

Dear Princess Celestia,

Magic works surprisingly well in this alternate world. As long as you know how to access it, there is almost an unlimited store in the very ground itself! Refined tar, or as Captain Reddy and his crew call it, oil, is particularly potent. Through my various experiments with Mr. Bradford, I have found that this petroleum product is, quite literally, liquidized magic. The magic of life, to be precise, can be found in abundance, and its basic building blocks can be broken down into tiny pieces that then combust, producing fire. Walker and Mahan already utilize this extensively.

There is one particular, though, that may be of even greater concern. If I know this, then there is no reason for Sunset Shimmer, wherever she is, to not find out herself. If she falls into the hands of the Grik, we could be facing the possibility of a mage war. I know you have experienced this firsthoof during the beginnings of Equestria. Do you have any advice you can give me on the subject?

Your Faithful Student,

Twilight Sparkle

My Dearest Twilight,

A mage war is the worst kind of conflict that a world can experience. It occurs when two opposing mages, usually powerful Unicorns, come into conflict by leading similarly opposing sides that have no access to magic. The war typically ends in mass devastation and loss of life. The more technologically advanced these peoples are, the less will remain at the end. Despite not knowing fully the context of your situation, I remain wholeheartedly convinced that you will do everything in your power to prevent a possible mage war, and that you will succeed.

If the supposed conflit does come to a mage war, do be safe, and bring Sunset Shimmer home safely. Only a madman would provoke such a devastating confrontation, and even so, he would never start unless he did not understand the reality of weaponized magic.

I understand that you have used certain spells to create mage-swords. This is not uncommon; in fact, I have a few myself. I warn you, though, that the materialization of such weapons implies other uses as well… for instance, the ammunition you once wrote to me. Weaponized magic is highly explosive, highly regenerative, and extremely dangerous to sane morality. It can conjure your deepest fears or old enemies and use them to teach you its ways. If what you write is true, then your entire world is soaked in weaponized magic. Do not attempt to negotiate with its conjurations for any reason. Stay safe, my former student.

There is restricted information on weaponized magic, but once I realized that you could still use magic of some sort in that world, I pulled some strings. We are scouring every book in the Archives for anything we can find. Perhaps it is time I told you what is truly in store. As I recall from my own studies on the subject, weaponized magic is not a special form of magic at all. Rather, it is exactly the same as normal magic, but with different uses. As you have no doubt discovered, it can be used for normal tasks. However, when utilized for combat, weaponized magic lives to its name. It is… corrupted, Twilight. It twists the mind. Remember Nightmare Moon. She was the result of my sister’s experiments with weaponized magic. Granted, there were other factors in that particular situation, but the form itself was the magic twisting Luna’s body to fit its needs.

I repeat my command: do NOT experiment with it. Such actions may spell the end of the world in which you are trapped, or others.

Princess Celestia

Twilight set the scroll under her pillow when someone knocked on the door.

It was Juan. “Ma’am, Cap-tan Reddy has requested your presence in the wardroom.”

“Of course.” She stood and stretched. Her back-and-forths with Princess Celestia were always conducted in her shared quarters with Sandra and Karen, with the curtain closed, and never when either was around. That way, she had privacy.

She entered the wardroom a minute later. “You wanted to see me, Captain?”

Matt gestured to the seat opposite him. Greg Garrett, the gunnery officer, sat uncomfortably to his left, while Sergeant Alden leaned against the bulkhead to his right.

“It’s about the gunnery,” he began as she sat. “Mr. Garrett has convinced me to allow you to conduct some preliminary tests relating to magic. He believes that you could apply a spell similar to the one that created your… swords… to naval ammunition. As a matter of caution, I’ve decided to remove the three-inch gun from the stern, negotiate you two a secluded, uninhabited area, and use that as your testbed. Is this sufficient, Mr. Garrett?”

“Yes, Captain, it should be. We can begin as soon as the gun’s set,” Greg practically stammered.

“Twilight?”

“It’ll work, Captain.”

“Excellent. Now, there is one other thing. Sergeant?”

Pete Alden perked up. “How well can you fight with those swords of yours?”

“I’m decent. I helped my brother practice when I was a filly, so I got pretty good. I’ve lost most of it, though.”

“How are your teaching skills?”

“Not as good as learning, but I’m not terrible.”

“Great. I need you to help Chack and me teach the Lemurians how to fight like an army. Captain Reddy, Mr. Keje, Mr. Nakja-Mur, and I have already discussed this. We’ve already been training the regulars and whoever else shows up, but after the Grik came the other day, we’ve run out of teaching capacity. Everyone is now required to drill, which is fine by me. But even after we turn the more promising recruits into NCOs, we’re still short. We don’t have enough guns to go around, so we’re using swords and shields, which I figured you’d be good at. They already know the drill, so you’ll just be making sure they’re doing it right.”

She blinked. “Me? Teaching people military stuff? What about Mr. Garrett?”

“You can experiment in the morning and train in the afternoon.”

“It’ll work, but how will you do in the morning?”

“Training is only in the afternoon right now. It gives them a chance to get things done without being exhausted. My standards for them are high, but I can’t expect them to completely drop their entire livelihoods when all we have is a militia.”

Twilight remembered her journeys through alternate realities. In one, all of Equestria dropped everything to support the war against Sombra. “You’d be surprised.”

“Well, as soon as the command structure is formed, Chack and I will have two regiments-in-training of Marines. If you can handle it, I’d like you to take those who can’t keep up with the rest as your own regiment.”

Matt’s eyebrows rose. “You trust her with a regiment of recruits? I mean no offense, Twilight, but you have quite the dangerous reputation with your magic and all.”

“A Marine’s recommendation does not come lightly, Captain. Her abilities may be unnerving, but I think we would do well to give her a command.”

“Mr. Garrett?”

“Can’t hurt, sir. I might join them myself if I wasn’t needed on Walker.” He patted the table. “My place is with gunnery.”

“Twilight?”

“If Mr.--”

“Not a ‘sir.’ I’m enlisted,” Alden interrupted.

“Sorry. If Sergeant Alden wants me to, then I’ll do it, but I’m the Princess of Friendship, not a soldier. I won’t have a clue as to what I’m doing,” she shrugged.

“You’ll be training alongside them for a while before you take command. They need to see that you’re just as capable of doing these things. Don’t try magic, though--you may scare them off. If everything goes to plan, you’ll command the Third Marines in a month.”

“Great. When do I start?” she asked, standing.

“In half an hour, if you don’t mind.”

She stopped. “What?”

Author's Note

The FIRST Robotics Competition meet I went to is done (and so is my season), so I have more time available!

Chapter 18

“Strike! Block! Strike! Block! Right step! Left step! Strike!” Twilight panted to herself as sweat dripped from her nose. Without magic, her standard-issue spear and shield had become agonizingly heavy in the two hours since the session started. Her left arm was on fire from constantly holding the large iron-reinforced wooden rectangle at chest height, and moving the spear was killing her right.

“Alright, girls,” Sergeant Alden called, “Spear drill is over.” His thundering voice washed her adrenaline away, and she nearly sagged with exhaustion. “Listen up! Chack and I have talked about this, and I’ve brought it to Captain Reddy’s attention that although we have enough of you for three regiments, there aren’t enough of us. Because of this, I have asked Miss Sparkle to be your commander. She will be treated as an officer of my Marines and will go through the same training all of you are experiencing now. In fact--” he waved her over-- “she has already been training with you for the past two hours.”

Twilight did her best to stand straight. She was still exhausted, having been a skinny bookworm her entire life, but that title of Marine dangled before her. All she needed to do was get these trainees caught up with Alden and Chack’s own regiments and “graduated” on time. Then, she felt, she would be able to properly lead her troops.

“Miss Twilight, I turn over command of the Third Marines to you,” Alden said, snapping her out of her thoughts.

Her mind raced to figure out what to say. “Uh, I accept,” she finally stumbled. “What do we do?”

“A little formation drill wouldn’t hurt. Get them into formation with the commands I taught you.”

She turned around. “Marines, form up!” They quickly shuffled into platoons of twenty-five ‘Cats each. “Atten-hut!” They snapped to attention. She looked sidelong at Alden, who nodded his satisfaction. “At ease.” The ‘Cats relaxed slightly.

“Good job,” Pete said. “That’s enough for today. Call them to attention and have them fall out.”

“Yes, sir. Atten-hut!” After a pause, she continued, “See you at the next session. Fall out!”

The ‘Cats slowly spread to other parts of the city, bringing their weapons home with them. To their credit, they acted professional despite their obvious rookie walks. They were trying too hard.

“Sergeant Alden, may I train them to be Royal Guards rather than Marines?” she asked.

“What do you mean?”

“Just add a little extra touch to the regiment. Make them special.”

“Absolutely not. This is war, Twilight.”

“Sergeant, these are the rejects from the First and Second, and you know it. I know it. Most importantly, they know it. I’ve talked to some of them, and they feel like they’re the leftovers. Everyone wants to be like the other two regiments, but they physically can’t. Give me a chance.”

“You want to train them to be some kind of personal guard.”

“No! The Royal Guard is the best of the best in Equestria. They’re entrusted with keeping the Princesses safe, which they’ve done successfully for over a thousand years. But…”

“But what?”

“They fight best as commandos, my brother found. They’re not front-line soldiers. Guards are trained to act in small groups of about five to ten each.” She let out a short laugh. “That explains the Canterlot Wedding. Anyway, they’re most effective when they’re not part of the main force.”

“Twilight, what we need is an army, not a rabble of skirmishers.”

“This won’t be a rabble, Sergeant.”

“Will they be able to competently function as part of the main force alongside the other troops?”

“Of course. With a couple of modifications to the training regimen, they’ll be better than even your Marines.”

“Fat chance. The Marines are the absolute best.”

“There is only one way to find out,” Chack said. “I, for one, believe that your idea will be invaluable against the Grik, Princess.”

Pete Alden sighed. “Then I see no problem. You may proceed.” As Twilight turned to leave, he asked, “One last question. Do you plan on using some kind of magical weapons?”

“Yes. I hope to eventually have rifles much like yours that shoot magic rather than bullets. At the very least, we will have handheld artillery. The sooner I figure out how to capture this world’s natural magic with technology, the sooner we may be able to use it as ammunition or explosives. But I plan on using standard rifles as well. There would be very few mage guns.”

“These ‘mage guns’ will be rigorously tested?”

“To the best of our abilities.”

He thoughtfully bobbed his head. “This will definitely be an interesting class. Train them as you will, Twilight Sparkle, but remember that they are Marines first and foremost, and they will adhere to regulations as such.”

“I would expect nothing less.”

A broken woman in tattered, filthy rags huddled against her only consolation, a broken man, in a cage deep in the dark, dank hold of a wooden-hulled sailing ship. Lack of nutrition had turned her normally-slim build into a bony, ribb-counting shell of a person. Her eyes had sunk deep in their sockets. Her hands trembled in fear despite barely her barely having the energy to stay awake.

The man was not much better off. He was in worse shape, having given her most of his share of food, and his once-pristine military uniform had withered away. Presently, his weakened arm wrapped itself protectively around her wiry frame, the meager warmth of her body giving him the resolve to fight the insanity at the edge of his mind. Unbeknownst to either, magic dripped feebly from her many cuts onto his skin, and that was what was fighting the brokenness. The hold around them was filled with similar scenes of despair, as the cat-monkey things usually used as rations here wasted away much quicker in captivity.

Their captors, lizard-things that looked like velociraptors, clambered down a stairway leading to the upper decks. Above them, the light of day failed to reach the deck. None of the five had weapons--their long, razor-sharp claws worked like knives.

One of the lizards unlocked their cage. It beckoned for him to move out, and when he did, it pointed to her. He pulled the woman, helping her to climb out of the cage and letting her lean on him once she stood on her bloody, shit-smothered feet. Drawing magical strength from her, he followed the lizards up the stairs with her ragged breathing at his side. For some reason, the lizards had elected not to blind them in contrast to the several times when they were transferred to other ships.

The midday sun momentarily blinded him. When his eyes adjusted, he could see the tangled orange, yellow, and red streaks in his companion’s hair and her yellowish skin. The topside salty ocean smell morphed into a blend of rotting meat and defecation. He immediately regretted searching for its source, as a large city of all things--a city--of lizards loomed on shore. The architecture was a mix of abode-shit and clay for the most part, but a grand stone palace presided over the mess like an overseer.

He held her tighter as her weak legs buckled with a sharp cry of pain followed by fearful whimpering. Turning his head, he saw that one of the junior lizards--probably hungry--had swiped at her skinny calf. Its razor claws split what was left of her skin wide open, causing a gangrenous mess of blood to spill onto the deck. Her unconscious magic told him that an artery was cut. Immediately, he followed its instructions, ripping one of his destroyed sleeves and tying it into a tourniquet around her thigh. His other sleeve became a wipe to deal with the wound.

Then a miracle happened. As he tried to stem the loss of precious blood, invisible magic flowed around her cut and absorbed itself into her veins. The flaps of skin closed and sewed themselves back together again. She opened her eyes briefly to look at her leg and paused. Her hand weakly fluttered around the newly-formed scar, searching in vain for a bloody mess. Her eyes widened, the unknown strength shared between the two of them filling her mind with realization. Before it returned to him, he heard her say something.

“I still have magic.” Then her eyes sunk back into their sockets again and she returned to her weakened state. Pulling her back to her feet, he unconsciously looked around and almost lost the little control he still had.

Sitting outside the harbor, with its anchor lowered, crew relaxing, and meatball flapping in the wind, was Amagi.

Author's Note

Here we go, with an update to Sunset as well, but from Kaufman's perspective because she's too weak to really be all that conscious.

And yes, I think that Lemurians as Royal Guards (the real ones, not the guys who keep needing the Elements) would be awesome. Even so, they shall hold the coveted title United States Marine nonetheless because Alden demands it. A trial by fire is due...

Chapter 19

“Left! Left! Left-right! Right-left! Left!” Twilight called out the marching cadence as the 3rd Marines went through drill maneuvers. Eventually, the regiment wound its way to the parade ground. “Halt!” They stopped. She flew to a lower-level balcony of the Great Hall (erected per Alden’s request) and smiled. From what Alden had taught her, drill was an excellent way of measuring the discipline of a group. Hers was perfect.

“Regiment, atten-shun!” She paused for a moment, gauging the troops. “At ease. This might take a while.

“As you all know, I’ve been your commanding officer for the last couple of days, which, to be frank, is my trial period, so I’d say it’s going well. In case you got hit in the head or something and don’t recognize me--” there were some chuckles “--my name is Twilight Sparkle. Princess Twilight Sparkle. Of Equestria. And just like the destroyermen’s America, Equestria has an elite force as well--we call them the Royal Guards. They have defended Princess Celestia for a thousand years, expanding their duties to the other princesses, including me, as we joined the ranks of royalty. I’ve asked Sergeant Alden about this, and he has agreed to form our regiment into one of the Royal Guards on the condition that we stick to Marine regulation.

“Basically, we’re going to be better than the others, so let’s get started.” Cheers. “But it makes our schedule harder. It’ll take longer for us to train because we’re doing two different regimens at the same time, but I believe in you.” Her smile turned grim. Quietly, she turned to her executive officer, a short, young, brown female Lemurian named Verun-Kanas, “Let’s get this started.”

Verun looked up at her commander. Her tiny sapphire eyes sparkled in the afternoon sun. “What do we do, Princess?”

Twilight blinked, realizing that Verun had no clue what the Guards were. “This is going to be harder than I thought,” she mumbled to herself. “Well, Verun-Kanas,” she said, louder this time, “we start with trust. Every Guard must be able to trust with absolute certainty that his of her fellow Guards will be there to help, even more so than Alden’s Marines. We have the discipline. We need the trust.”

“How do we get that, Princess?”

“Do you trust me to lead, Verun-Kansas--I mean, Verun-Kanas?”

“Um, well, I don’t know you very well, so I, uh, can’t really say, Princess.”

Twilight bent over a little to get down to Verun’s eye level. “It helps to know the person on a more friendly level. You don’t need to use my title, Verun, just my name.”

“If you say so, Twilight, ma’am.” Verun nervously looked down.

Twilight buried her face in her hands.

The next morning, Matt grimaced and took another sip of Juan’s “coffee.” Having been kept awake all night by the engineering division’s antics with the magic-rebuilt number one boiler, being captain was the last thing he wanted to do. Bags weren’t hanging from his eyes, but he looked completely worn out. He’d caught himself napping in his chair on the bridge earlier, which was what drove him to have Juan bring some coffee. Somehow, the stubborn Filipino insisted that his brews were excellent.

Gray, almost impeccable in his blue Navy utility uniform, watched Silva’s crew on their gun drills. While parts for the big gunner’s mate’s number three gun were in the shop, he practiced on number one, directly in view of the bridge. The men competently went through the motions, reset, and restarted. Matt saw Gray turn away, apparently satisfied, and begin inspecting Walker’s new paint job. Mr. Garrett had somehow found a stockpile of white paint base, and after explaining its necessity to Nakja-Mur, turned it over to the Chief.

Matt stood and stepped out onto the starboard bridge wing, overlooking the bay. It really was a beautiful sight. The water, clear of industrial waste, was a perfect blue, and without mines to mar its soft, lapping waves (fishing boats, however, dotted the bay). Dense jungle provided a green backdrop to the natural harmony of the local ecosystem--dammit, Courtney--which was teeming with life. If it weren’t for the flashies, he’d let the part of the crew that wasn’t on duty jump in and swim around. In the back of his mind, he registered the drone of an aircraft.

A sudden blast of steam alerted him to the number four stack. Sooty black smoke and white fluffy steam billowed from the cantankerous boiler and settled to the deck.

“Goddamn snipes! There’s fresh paint up here!” Gray immediately bellowed, striding aft.

Matt grinned as the event unfolded, but lost his smile when it reminded him why they had ‘Cat snipes aboard. If they hadn’t lost so many, it wouldn’t have been a problem, but Walker needed a full complement.

Sandra came up beside him. “It’s alright. I’m sure they understand.” Her ears idly searched for the source of the drone.

“I guess they would,” he admitted, looking back at the water.

Across the bay happened to be the spot he’d procured for Twilight’s magic tests. As Sandra leaned on the rail beside him, a small shockwave grabbed his attention. The area was covered in a quickly-dissipating purple haze. Another shockwave came, producing a similar haze, but this time, he knew what caused it: the three-inch gun was firing magical rounds into the sky. A third shot, aimed well south of the first two, disappeared behind a cloud and blew up like a firework. A fourth and fifth refined the aiming further, and the sixth shot landed in the water a couple miles south. Like all of the other rounds, it exploded into a fireworks display of purple magic.

The general alarm began to sound. Larry Dowden clonked onto the bridge wing, panting. “Captain, aircraft!” Down the way, he shouted: “General quarters! This is not a drill. All hands, man your battle stations!”

The deck instantly became a flurry of activity. Ordnance strikers ferried ammunition to the machine guns as ‘Cats and men scampered. Matt clambered up the ladder to the fire-control platform and took Felts’ offered of binoculars.

Gray also raced to fire control since Garrett was on the other side of the bay. After a second of scanning the sky, he found the plane. “There, sir. Aft, bearing one two oh! It’s coming right up from the strait.”

“I see it. Stand by the guns, Chief, but hold your fire.”

“What is it?” Sandra asked. “Hostile?”

“I don’t think so.” Matt lowered his binoculars. “PBY.”

Apparently, Twilight and Garrett couldn’t identify the plane, because a loud bang echoed from their testing ground. Their shot hit the PBY in the wing, completely ripping a good foot of metal right off. Garrett must have recognized it before they fired again, because there no more shots.

The plane nearly spun out of control, but its pilot was experienced. Its altitude dropped. Only one engine was running, and the lost wing area only imbalanced it more. It grazed over the forest of masts by the docks, splashing into the surface a few hundred yards out. Safely landed, its pilot motored over to Walker’s starboard side.

A young man plopped next to Matt with a startled cry.

“Mr. Garrett, what happened?”

“Well, sir, we heard the plane, but we couldn’t see it. Miss Twilight decided to use her magic to find it, and we blew its wing off. Then I saw it and stopped her from firing again. She teleported me here.”

“Where is she now?”

“Behind the flying boat, sir.” He pointed to the figure of a woman pushing the seaplane towards Walker. The engine’s tremendous roar died, and the windscreen sild open to reveal a bearded man.

Matt pursed his lip. “Mr. Gray, see to it that Nakja-Mur, Naga, Keje, and Adar come aboard. We’ll see who our mystery aviator is, and then I’ll have a talk with Twilight about aircraft recognition. Once our hosts arrive, we’ll hold a meeting in the wardroom and find out how the hell a PBY ended up here.”

Author's Note

Twilight is finally learning what being a princess actually means to other cultures. Then again, ~~her friends don't even use her title~~.

I just realized that the plane actually came before the oil rig. Oh well. Doesn't matter anymore.

Chapter 20

In the wardroom, Ben Mallory and his two crewmates Ed Palmer and Perry Brister gratefully sipped a Coke while Matt, Gray, Garrett, Spanky, Twilight, Courtney, Sandra, Larry Dowden, and Alan Letts waited for them to rehydrate. Most of them sat, with the exception of Twilight, who leaned against the bulkhead. Sometime during their wait, Adar, Keje, Naga, and Nakja-Mur filed in, leaving their escort outside. Juan served iced tea for the Lermurians, “coffee” for the humans, and plain water for Twilight. She smiled and thanked him, as water was easiest for her to transmute. With a flick of her fingers, her drink turned into an apple cider Applejack would be proud of.

“Thank God for that, sir,” Ben said as he took another sip. “We had to feather the starboard engine to stretch our fuel. Checked Menjangan, then all the way to Alor. if you weren’t here, we would’ve been goners. Your ship, snuggled nice against the dock with her proud flag and curling smoke, oh. A sight for sore eyes, sir.”

Perry Brister, Mahan’s engineering officer, nodded agreement. “Water wouldn’t have lasted much longer, sir. Didn’t take that much to save weight. Then when we landed, somebody shot at us! Tore the wing off. Can’t fly without a wing--we barely landed as it was. If we can find what’s left of it, maybe…”

Matt looked over to Twilight. His expression told the three haggard men that she was to blame. She bobbed her head and stared at the deck.

“Excuse me, sir, but who is she?” Perry asked.

“Ma’am?” Matt prompted.

The purple woman lifted her head. “I am Princess Twilight Sparkle of Equestria. I didn’t realize that you were friendly, and so I… shot at your craft. With magic. You won’t find any pieces of it because my experimental shells vaporize their targets. It’s just how weaponized magic works. I can fix it, Captain, but it’ll be a strain. Crafting swords from hard magic is one thing. An entire wing with functioning hydraulics and the correct shape, fitted to match the existing plane perfectly? A month at least, if I don’t forgo my other duties here.”

“But you can do it. Will you need anything?”

“Yes. Everything you have on PBYs, I’ll need. Measurements, material lists, that sort. If we don’t know, then we’ll find out.”

“You have it. As soon as we’re done here, Mr. Mallory, give Miss Twilight what she needs.”

“Yes, sir.” Ben couldn’t help but let out a little nervousness in his voice.

“Is something wrong, Mr. Mallory?”

“Um…”

“Is it Twilight?”

“Yes, sir.”

“We’ve survived her accidents so far. You will try not to screw up, understand, Twilight? That’s the only plane we have.”

The princess waved her hand in assurance.

“Good. now, Mr. Mallory, Mr. Brister, and Mr. Palmer, exactly what happened to Mahan?”

Twilight created a small shimmering mirror in her hands, out of everyone else’s sight. She then used it as a scrying spell to search for the missing ship. Her idle ears picked up Perry Brister’s story of how some Kaufman guy ran a mutiny and accidentally shot Jim Ellis--whom Mr. Dowden often referred to as his guide for being an XO--and everything went downhill from there. They found a city called Tjilatjap, but it was completely ruined (Nakja-Mur nearly went into a frenzy at hearing that Chill-Chaap was destroyed). Kaufman led the shore party. Nobody returned, so I went ashore myself… Captain, there were piles of gnawed bones everywhere! And it wasn’t like some predators ran the poor bastards down, either-- they look like they ran into a wall of baddies!” He shivered. “Not long after, we found the PBY and got it working. Mallory and Palmer barely escaped several boats of lizard-people with the plane. They then met back up with Mahan, refueled, took on some supplies, and came looking for Walker.

“Then we found you guys,” Ed Palmer finished.

“We’ve met the Grik, too,” Matt said. “They’re pretty scary.”

Twilight bit her lip and furrowed her eyes. “No, no, no, not there, no…” she mumbled.

“Twilight?” Matt asked.

“That’s a ruined city… no, no, tiny island, no, small sheltered bay… ah, there she is.” She looked up. “Yes, Captain?”

“What are you doing?”

“Scrying. It’s a spell that allows me to look at places really far away, but I need something like a mirror to do it. Luckily, just making one out of thin air works fine. As long as you know what to look for, you can usually find anything you want.”

“Okay. And the catch is…?”

“None. That’s literally all the spell does. I assume Mahan looks like Walker?”

“You found her?”

“Well, there’s a small metal ship in a sheltered bay on the north side of the big island to the south near where my ship sunk.”

“You mean Java?”

“Yeah, if that’s the name.”

“It is. Where on the northern shore?”

She pursed her lips. “Far to the west.”

“I want updates in the mornings and evenings, and when she starts to move if you can figure it out, course and speed.”

“Got it.”

Matt stood from his chair. “In the meantime, we need to kick it into high gear. The Grik know about Mahan. If they capture her, we must sink her. Until then, our priority is to bring her here--preferably with her crew. Juan, could you fetch Mr. Alden and Lieutenant Shinya? Thank you. Twilight, I know you have a lot of duties, with your Royal Guards program, weapons testing, practice with magic, repairing the PBY, and updates on Mahan. Make sure you get some sleep during the next few weeks. Mr. Garrett, continue refining those ‘mage shots’ with Twilight when you get the chance. Other than that, keep our guns in shape.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Spanky, I want ships. Mr. Sandison shouldn’t have much to do without his torpedoes--get him on that. Nakja-Mur, I would like to expand your shipyards and build some sailing frigates. We may need them to rescue Mahan from the Grik later. Keje, Mr. McFarlane has been asking me about adding guns to Salissa. I believe it would be beneficial to have some extra firepower as well as installing a fuel tank to increase Walker’s range. What do you say?”

“Perfect. Salissa will be able to destroy Grik from afar!” Keje grinned.

Nakja-Mur was more cautious. “You want to spend even more resources to fight the Grik than we already have, over one ship?”

“Mahan is the same as Walker, sir. They’re sister ships. They have the same capabilities, including her guns. We absolutely cannot allow the Grik to take her.”

“Then we shall spend the resources.”

“That’s all. Everyone, to your tasks.”

Ben Mallory inched farther from the water as Twilight reached out with her magic. They were on a small beach behind Walker that Twilight had magically paved into a sandy ramp. Smoke curled lazily from the destroyer’s nearest stack, and the sounds and smells of Baalkpan wafted over from the busy market. The sky was still bright blue despite the afternoon rain coming from the south.

The PBY, encased in purplish magic, split the water as Twilight pulled it closer. It was eerily silent. Neither of its engines were running. Eventually, it washed ashore and immediately began leaking from its sodden wing-mounted stabilizers. Twilight grunted as she dragged it farther from the water, finally dropping her arms and the spell when the tail no longer floated in the bay.

She spread her wings and leapt onto the wing. Her arms shot out from her sides to keep her balance as it wobbled from her weight. Only once she was confident it wasn’t going to tip her off did she relax. She knelt where her magical round had hit, letting purple wisps flow from her fingers into the mess of jagged metal. More magic embedded itself in the body of the plane and projected a rough three-dimensional image above her. She reached for the large PBY copy and shrunk it down to fit in her palm, inspecting her work. She flipped her hand over it, and the missing chunk of wing on the actual PBY reappeared as another rough image.

“How did you do that?” he called, trying to keep the sight of her stretched uniform in the back of his mind. “I mean, I know it’s magic, but how?”

“Hologram spell. Sunset Shimmer, a friend of mine, once told me about the concept of holograms, which are three-dimensional images of objects or even people. I thought it was amazing, so I created a spell last year to make my own. And that was no small feat. Spellcrafting is really hard. Anyway, I gave her the spell after I figured it out, and she’s used it at CHS every now and then with the help of my counterpart in that world.”

“That’s crazy.”

“Yeah, I thought it was impossible at first, too. But hey, I’m the Element of Magic. If I can’t do it, good luck.”

“So, how’d you get that, uh, hologram of the missing wing to show up? You made one of the plane as it is, not how it was, right?”

“I used a mirror spell on the hologram spell.”

He blinked. “What?”

She flew down and landed on the sand with a puff. “You heard me. I used a mirror spell on a hologram spell. It’s not hard.” She flicked her finger at the magic hologram in her hand, and the missing pieces turned a different color than the rest of the image. “I can use this to find out exactly what I need to make in order to fix your PBY. Or rather, I can know what each piece looks like. I still need everything else I requested.” She strode away, leaving Ben to wonder how in hell she was going to make hydraulic cylinders from nothing.

“You will not succeed, Twilight Sparkle… Celestia isn’t here to save you now!” Nightmare Moon hissed.

Twilight swiftly dodged a bolt of lightning from her foe’s horn and replied with a small fireball. “Even without my closest friends, I am still more than a match against you. And my new friends will help me when I need them. The power of friendship is--”

“Spare me your lectures, Sparkle. Your worst enemy has yet to arrive, and he will destroy you. His mighty ship is larger and stronger than anything you have seen on this world, and with my help, he will have the power to destroy your puny destroyer and its crew.”

“If he’s so powerful, he shouldn’t need your help.”

“Yes, but even the strongest wills need a little push.”

Author's Note

I don't think Ben is a fan of magic after being on the receiving end.

And as for Nightmare Moon's "friend", it isn't his will that needs a push.

Chapter 21

David Kaufman pulled the young yellow-skinned woman he considered his charge closer, away from the approaching Japanese men. Having been transferred from the Grik ship to the local “palace”, he had more room to maneuver than he would’ve otherwise. His face contorted into an angry, animalistic snarl as he growled defiance towards them.

The palace, surprisingly, actually looked somewhat built for its purpose, and not by the Grik. Its stone pillars and sturdy pillars were much to perfectly aligned to have been constructed by mindless lizards, and the city outside, which was more of a large gathering of muddy huts and ramshackle “houses” than anything, was proof. Some of the nearer buildings had a similar build to the palace, giving them the appearance of being able to properly represent civilization.

Other than intricate carvings that had eroded with time and balconies overlooking certain views of Grik Madras, its shallow harbor, and the deepwater bay where the Japanese battlecruiser Amagi anchored among a massive fleet of Grik Indiamen sailing rigs, not much could be said about the place. It sat on a hill above Madras, nestled in a miniature valley on a slope that then became mostly flat all the way to the mountain range barely visible to the west. Its position didn’t save it from Grik stench, however, and the whole place reeked.

As Kaufman watched in angry apprehension, one of the Japanese men--an officer, no doubt--covered his mouth and nose with a kerchief, using it like a gas mask. He retained his composure, however. The other man, likely enlisted, had no such restrictions and stared at the woman’s sad, stared, skinny body. With a sharp glare from the officer, the sex-starved light in the enlisted man’s eyes dissipated, and he bowed his head, apparently ashamed. Kaufman furrowed his brows. If his mostly broken mind was reading the exchange properly, the officer (likely not Amagi’s captain) was keeping the sailor in line so that either he or his captain could have first dibs.

The officer saw his unhidden expression and spoke in English, surprisingly. “Fear not, American, I will not take advantage of your friend. Personally, I consider it dishonorable, but my captain may not share such… concerns. I will try to convince him that she is much too weak to even survive one night in his bed.”

Kaufman caught a glimpse of horror in the woman’s sunken eyes at the officer’s words and pulled her behind him.

The officer seemed to recognize his protective stance. “Of course, it may also be possible to--”

A roiling midnight-sky cloud of internal lightning flashes landed in the room from one of the balconies. Everyone backed away from it, but the woman shrunk in terror. She knew what it was.

After a few seconds, it dissipated and coalesced into a tall, deep-sea blue woman with night-black armor with everything from metal boots to full chestplate and a Roman-style helmet. Her eyes were filled with the darkness of jealousy and hatred, and her hair was a flowing cloud of twinkling stars in a rich blue background.

The woman behind Kaufman shrunk further, trying to conceal herself as much as possible, but the… evil one found her despite her best efforts. Her voice held a upper-medium pitch and sounded somewhat unnatural, almost magical.

“Sunset Shimmer, former student of Celestia, we meet at last.”

Sunset seemed to rejuvenate herself into conscious action, pulling herself to a trembling stand. Her breathing was ragged, broken, and she sounded terrible, but her eyes gleamed with an ancient power. “Nightmare Moon. Twilight told me you were destroyed by the Elements.”

“The Elements cannot destroy, only remove. Twilight Sparkle of all ponies should know that.” She turned to the Japanese officer. “You tell your captain that the Americans are still alive, and that they have access to a deep and powerful magic that can wipe you from existence. Sunset Shimmer can also use this magic. You will care for her without removing her of any purity, and when she regains the strength to learn, I will ensure she becomes the greatest mage this world has ever seen, and she will follow your people against your enemies.”

The officer was taken aback. “This woman has magic? That is a serious claim, given that magic does not exist.”

Nightmare Moon crackled a bolt of lightning into the floor at his feet. “Magic exists, fool. And you will use it to your advantage… and mine.”

“I will not fight my friend,” Sunset managed.

“You will now,” Nightmare Moon coldly replied, and threw a starry cloud at her. It absorbed itself into Sunset’s skin, lolling her eyes to the back of her head. When her eyes returned to face forward, they were no longer turquoise, but instead hollow and black. “What were you saying, Shimmer?”

“Twilight Sparkle must be destroyed, and Celestia revenged.”

“Excellent.” Nightmare Moon turned once again to face the Japanese. “Use her as you will, per my conditions, and defeat your enemy.”

“And what of her American comrade?”

“Him?” She glanced at Kaufman, who, without Sunset’s untainted magic, had collapsed into a wretched mess. “I care not.”

Author's Note

I'm off to all sorts of crazy summer stuff for next couple of months, so updates are going to be even spottier for a while. Sometimes I get this... burst of clarity and suddenly know how to write like 3 chapters, but those don't come too often.

Chapter 22

A Grand Gathering had been called at Baalkpan to discuss the oncoming Grik threat. Homes of the Sea from throughout the area came, enough to be a large gathering, but too few to really do too much. Normally, Great Gatherings were festive times when Homes would branch out, with parties and drinking ashore for days while the massive Homes were constructed. This time, however, there was a sense of urgency and concern. One of the Homes had passed by another on the way, broken and burning on a rocky shoal to the north. There was no doubt that the Grik had destroyed it.

Keje flew into a frenzy at the news and finally agreed to mount cannons on Salissa as Lieutenant Alan Letts, Walker’s supply officer who’d worked his way to permanent shore duty as Matt’s Chief of Staff, suggested. He remained reluctant to accept anything dealing with Equestrian magic, though, despite Twilight’s assurance that it was mostly safe.

Everything kicked into an even higher gear, if that was even possible. Production ramped up, with every piece of copper in the city being sent to the bottomless stomachs of the foundry fires, tons of sulfur being carried down from the Sularan volcanic fields, and the shipyards receiving massive upgrades. The three-inch gun seemed to get less and less useless as time went on as Twilight and Garret perfected her magic shells. Repairs to the PBY proceeded on time as well, and Mallory expected it to be flightworthy again in two weeks. Magic was, well, working its magic, and nothing out of the ordinary anymore.

So it was a complete shock when, upon returning from a reluctant visit to the wrecked Home, Twilight announced that she felt traces of scrying magic in the sky. It made little sense: Twilight was the only magician in the world that could do that, right? Besides her and the lightning-loving Nightmare Moon, there was nobody who had previously known magic existed.

“Well, right about when we met Salissa, I do remember feeling the presence of Sunset Shimmer,” the princess answered when Matt asked her about it. “She was Princess Celestia’s student before disappearing through a mirror portal that led to a world with the human equivalents of everyone in Equestria. This happened only a few years before Celestia chose me to be her personal student.”

He sat in his customary seat around the wardroom table. “Yes, that rings a bell. What do you think happened to her?”

“I don’t know. Obviously, if she’s still alive, she’s recognized that magic still works here. I doubt it was her, though--she’s not a villain. I mean, saving the world on at least two separate occasions kind of makes you a hero.”

“Would you go so far as to rule her out completely?”

She paused for a moment, collecting her thoughts. “Yes, I would.”

“Alright. I’ll have to trust you on her--not like I really have a choice--but the possibility that there could be a third magician in this crazy world doesn’t sound good.”

“Captain, if it were up to me, I wouldn’t tell everyone that the Grik have magic. That might send any allies we can gain running.”

“Twilight, we have to. If we can’t trust them something this big, we might lose theirs. And right now, they’re trusting us to help them fight the Grik. Without that trust, we might as well pack up and leave, drop anchor on a distant--deadly--shore, and probably die.”

“You’re the Skipper.”

Matt blinked. “You’ve never called me that.”

“Mr. Silva says it, and he never speaks ill of you, so I thought it was just another word for ‘Captain’.”

“It kind of is. It’s… hard to explain why the men call me ‘Skipper’, but I guess it means they’re okay with me. You surprised me, though.”

“I’m not gonna call you that if you don’t want me to.”

“It isn’t a problem.”

Twilight nodded and exited the wardroom.

Matt lingered just a bit longer, thinking about Sunset. She worried him. Hell, everything dealing with magic worried him. It was an unknown no matter how much Twilight told him, and it was apparent that she dumbed it down so the destroyermen and Lemurians could understand her. A few times, she’d spoken in terms that made no sense to anyone else and was forced to reword entire miniature speeches to get her point across. Somebody who could actually understand her ramblings about magic to some degree could be a threat.

Eventually, he walked up to the bridge, where a beautiful view of Baalkpan Bay greeted him. Feluccas soared over the waves with their triangular sails and smooth hulls, while at least half a dozen Homes of the Sea, including Salissa, either snuggled against the dock or moored farther out. Even as he scanned the bay entrance, another Home let out a hundred sweeps to propel it through the congested waterway to a more open spot off to the side. Its great wings were stowed, and as it coasted to a halt, one of its four “feet” (its anchors) dropped with a familiar splash. This Great Gathering was turning out to be much bigger than he thought it would be.

After leaving the wardroom, Twilight flew to the PBY, where Lieutenant Ben Mallory and his small flight crew consisting of himself, Signalman Ed Palmer, a Lemurian nicknamed “Tikker”, and two farsighted Lemurians worked the latest chunk of hardened magic into its place on the damaged wing.

“I gotta say, Ed, this stuff is a lot harder to work than metal,” she heard Ben say as she approached. He wiped the sweat from his forehead with an oily sleeve and dropped his wrench when he tried to fix his mistake. “Tikker, Ratchet, somebody, get me a somewhat-clean towel before I get oil in my eyes!”

One of the farsighted ‘Cats, probably Ratchet, tossed one up. Tikker caught it and handed it to Ben while trying not to fall off his precarious perch next to the engine.

“Thanks,” he said as he cleaned his face. He looked down. “Oh, hey, Twilight.”

“Hello, Mr. Mallory. How goes repairs? I understand that magic is difficult to work when you can’t actually use it.”

“It’s going swell, thanks for asking.” He patted the plate of hardened magic that he and the crew had been trying to put in place. “The stuff can be a bitch to mold, though--’xcuse my language.”

“I’ve heard worse.” She narrowed her eyes. “Mr. Mallory, that is not the lower plate on the wing. You’re trying to hammer the upper plate into a place it won’t fit.” She gestured to another, flatter piece of hardened magic on Ed’s workbench. “This piece is the bottom half.”

He scratched his head, studying the two pieces. Once he made the connection, his head rolled back in exasperation. “Oh my God, I didn’t even see that one! It’s so obvious now. Guys, let’s get this thing out and put the other one in.”

“We waste past hour-and-half time?” Tikker asked, annoyed.

“Yeah… Sorry about that. I didn’t even realize that this piece we jammed in the wing is the top of an airfoil.”

“Damm-it.”

“Yeah. Thanks for the tip, Twilight.”

“No problem.” She took off again, this time heading towards the parade grounds. It was time to train her Guards.

Author's Note

No, Ben isn't an idiot. I just so happens that when something's in pieces, sometimes you don't necessarily recognize it.

Also, college is starting soon. I really don't know how much time I'll have after splitting it for all of my other things, so...:applejackunsure:

Chapter 23

Twilight smiled, unable to keep pride from swelling within her as she watched her regiment of Lemurians, the 1st Royal Guards, drill in proper formation with a level of competency comparable to where Alden’s Marines currently performed. Her executive officer, Lieutenant Verun-Kanas (forever nicknamed Kansas due to Twilight’s initial name-butchering) stood next to her, her tail twitching nervously. The ‘Cat, despite Twilight’s best efforts, still acted off balance whenever she was around.

“Excellent work, Kansas,” the princess applauded, consciously making an effort to not clap and drop the fabric-wrapped thing in her hands. “I know I haven’t been here as much as I’d like, but you’ve done well.”

“Um, thank you, ma’am. If you don’t mind me asking, how much longer will we be training before our, uh, first combat?”

Twilight mentally gave up her friendship quest for the moment, figuring it would take something else for her XO to break out of her shell. “A few more weeks. I think Captain Reddy’s cooking something up for the Grik, but I don’t have any mind-reading spells up my sleeve, so Tartarus if I know what it actually is. Everyone getting antsy?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“There isn’t much I can really do to alleviate that. Have you familiarized yourself with my and Mr. Garrett’s experiments regarding magical weapons?”

“I’m afraid I don’t understand it very well, ma’am, but I did read it. They all know as well,” Kansas replied, gesturing to the ‘Cats in formation. They had split into smaller platoons and were now wholly focused on a drill competition. “They are anxious, but willing to try. If we can more easily kill Grik, then we will.”

“I won’t give them a mage weapon unless I personally know it works. Speaking of which, are they taking care of their spears and shields properly? Once we have mage-blades attached to spear handles, it won’t be as much of an issue, but I can’t trust people who don’t take care of their tools with better ones.”

“They are. Inspections every other day. The Marines do it once a week. Do we inspect our weapons more often because you expect us to wield magic weapons later?”

“Yeah.” Twilight opened the fabric wrap. Inside was a perfectly-crafted spear tip of pure magical energy, condensed into a solid form with a violet dual edge sharper than any sword made from metal. Opposite the deadly tip, a base suitable for fitting to a spear shaft completed an elegant, almost eerily beautiful design.

Kansas went slack-jawed with awe. Her eyes were instantly drawn to it. She gingerly ran her fingers along one of the edges, making sure she didn’t cut herself. The spear tip felt cold but tingled with energy.

“Is this your final design, ma’am?”

“The smooth version, yes. I’m currently working to barb the edges, but once I’ve settled that, it should be relatively easy. Maybe another month before I have enough for everyone in the regiment--at least until I figure out mage guns. The challenge is to keep the weight the same without losing structural integrity. Too much magic is like peanut brittle: it snaps apart with ease. Not enough, and it evaporates.”

“What if Cap-i-taan Reddy makes a plan before you have enough?”

“Then we’ll take as many as we can.”

“You mean to tell me that this… wreck… of a person is supposed to bring me vengeance against the Americans? Impossible!”

Commander Sato Okada, Executive Officer aboard the Imperial Japanese Navy battlecruiser HIMS Amagi, stood his ground even as his captain, Hisashi Kurokawa, seemed about to explode into a fit of rage. The captain, a tall man with a contorted cherubim for a face and a nearly-immaculate IJN uniform to adorn his volatile form, seemed to regard the collapsed orange-skinned woman propped by a pair of unlucky sailors with disgust and disdain. Okada himself didn’t see much potential in her, but the mysterious magician in the Grik palace had claimed she was extremely powerful.

“Yes, Captain, I do,” he treaded carefully. “There was a magician in the Grik palace when we came to pick up their American prisoner. She told me to tell you that this woman is our best chance at defeating the Americans. They have apparently acquired access to a magic that could easily destroy us. As long as she remains pure, she will follow our orders.”

“PURE?! And you take orders from a random self-proclaimed WITCH?”

“Captain, please! The magician--she is called ‘Nightmare Moon’--threw a bolt of lightning at my feet with ease! If you do not believe me, she can do the same to you.”

“I dare her!”

At the sudden declaration, a cloud materialized near the helm, scaring the helmsman shitless. The magician’s elegant, womanly form in full plate armor coalesced from the cloud, and her equally magical voice rang:

“I see that you creatures are much less capable of belief than even those Celestia-damned Americans you face.” She spat a small bolt of lightning from her hand, which scorched the metal near Kurokawa’s shiny boot. “Is that enough for you, or would you prefer I blow up your despicable ship?”

Kurokawa studied her for a minute before replying, his indignation having dissipated as soon as she had appeared. “Your current demonstration will suffice,” he answered with uncharacteristic calm. Okada looked at him with incredulity.

“But perhaps you would explain why I should care for the well-being of this woman?” he asked.

Nightmare Moon bared her vampiric fangs. “Would it suffice to say that a healthy mage is a live one? And if it isn’t apparent to whatever passed as a brain in your Earth-bounded monkey skull, you only have ONE MAGE to work with!”

“Why don’t you be the mage?”

Okada stood a nervous step back. His captain may have gone too far with this one.

“Because they will be expecting me to fight them, and the last time I participated in direct combat, I was banished to the Moon for a thousand years, and I have no intention of returning.”

“That is fair,” Kurokawa conceded. “The woman mage will be cared for as if she is one of our own. See to it, Commander.” At that, Nightmare Moon disappeared i a whirlwind of smoke.

“Yes, Captain. Do you want to use her name?”

“Well, it would certainly be useful if I were to give her orders.”

“It is ‘Sunset Shimmer,’ Captain.”

“Excellent. And you know what to do with the American. Squeeze every drop of available information from him. I want to know everything pertaining to those damned Americans and their puny destroyers.”

Okada held back a sigh of relief, recognizing that Kurokawa had dismissed him.

Author's Note

I knew college was going to bite my time. Damn.

Chapter 24

Captain Matthew Reddy stood on a raised platform to address the crowd of Lemurian chiefs that had gathered in Nakja-Mur’s Great Hall. Keje-Fris-Ar, High Chief of Salissa Home, his lifetime friend Sky Priest Adar flanked Matt on his right, while Sergeant Pete Alden, Chief Gray, and Twilight stood to his left. Nakja-Mur himself sat in his seat of power nearby with Nurse Lieutenant Sandra Tucker and Lieutenant Alan Letts.

Nakja-Mur called the crowd to attention and introduced Matt and his crew. A special emphasis was placed on their accomplishments in driving away the Grik vessels from a while ago and Twilight’s magical abilities.

“Thank you, Chief,” Matt said when the burly Lemurian had finished. Keje translated to the other chief for him.

“After the Grik showed up in the bay, we’ve kicked everything into high gear. But frankly, I’m still not sure what we have will be enough to defeat the Grik. I--we--have two different versions of Grik attacks. Based on the utter unpreparedness of pretty much every settlement I’ve seen, they’re like Malay pirates, and aren’t that much of a menace. However, there’s also the ‘slow creep’ model described by Naga. I don’t know how much there really is. We don’t know. All of us are extremely ignorant when it comes to the Grik.”

Several ‘Cats bristled. In Lemurian, “ignorant” and “stupid” were frighteningly similar.

Matt hurried past the intricacies of language. “We do know something, however, and that’s that there will always be more Grik. Which means they have mass on their side. So we need to mass as well. I know our tech is better, but for how long? We could bleed them white, but we simply don’t have the people to keep that up forever.”

“So, ‘mass’ is numbers?” Keje asked for the rest of the crowd.

“Yes. We need to take the fight to the Grik, and we need numbers to do it. But first, we need to know what we’re going up against. So, massing defensively.”

“You said that we must attack? Why must we ‘mass’ defensively when our goal is to attack?”

“I’ve been thinking of ways to get the intel we need, and those Grik scouts are a good place to start. Think of it as a ‘defensive’ attack.”

“That doesn’t even make any sense,” Twilight protested. “How can an attack be defensive in nature?”

“If we’re the defending side, then an attack is most definitely defensive in nature. It may be an offensive tactic, but a defensive move,” Pete explained.

“Yeah, sure, whatever. It still doesn’t make sense, but if that’s how it is, then I’ll take it.”

Pete blinked. Twilight usually tried to make sense of everything. Her eyes seemed distant, and her intense curiosity was lost. “Are you alright?” he asked.

It was her turn to blink. She shook her head. “Yes, of course. I’m just worried about Sunset. Ever since I felt her enter this crazy world, the only thing I know is that she isn’t dead.”

“Well, that’s good, isn’t it? If she’s anything like you said, she can take care of herself.”

“You’re right. I keep forgetting that she’s saved the multiverse at least a few times. She’s just my student, you know? I can’t shake this feeling that… she’ll be fine.”

Matt had ignored their side conversation in favor of rallying the Lemurians. He seemed to be succeeding, too, once they understood the basic theory that based his entire plan. He wanted to use a heavy squall to “sink” a Home (probably Salissa if Keje had anything to say about it) and sucker in enough Grik to actually take one of their ships with Walker. That way, they would only deal with a few Grik instead of the whole damn army.

“How many troops can we pull together, Sergeant?”

Pete rubbed his chin. “I can pull the First and Second Marines for this jaunt, giving us a few hundred. If we add Twilight’s Guards, that’s three regiments ready to deploy. A thousand, perhaps? That’s being optimistic, of course.”

“Perfect. Say, what if we bring everyone?”

“That’s a lot of people on our little ship, sir, but we’ll make it work. We can go into the specifics later.”

Nakja-Mur stood from his cushioned seat and clambered up to the platform. As “hosting” Chief, any big multi-clan plans had to go through him. This role was only made even more important when one considered that Baalkpan provided most of the labor and was the only faction that couldn’t just leave.

“I say,” he began, “that Cap-i-taan Reddy be made Supreme Commander of this Allied Expedition for its duration!”

Thunderous applause and the stomping of feet filled the hall. Matt warily accepted the offer, and planning began in greater detail.

Pete and Twilight watched the training Marines, Guards, and a bunch of newcomers from Baalkpan and various Homes in the bay practice sparring. Twilight had tried it with her Guards to get them used to fighting organic, moving enemies rather than stuffed training dummies on poles, and claimed some improvement in reaction times and heat-of-combat improvisation. Weapons were necessarily blunted, but a steady trickle of wounded made their way to Nurse Karen Theimer’s medical station before rejoining the fast-paced training regimen.

“I know that dummies are safer,” she’d reasoned, “but one-on-one combat is the logical next step.”

Pete had agreed with her, knowing full well that he had planned on implementing it before she’d even considered the subject. But right now, even as some of his Marines and Twilight’s Guard sparred themselves, others acted as NCOs to keep the rookies on track. They rotated out, but it was still hectic. Somehow, the individualistic land folk were going to have to learn to work as a single unit.

“God help us if the shield wall fails,” he muttered.

“With the newcomers or the Marines and Guards?” she asked.

“It won’t matter. We get to that”--he gestured at the fiasco--“we’re finished.”

Chack and Lieutenant Shinya, who had been down in the thick, joined them. They were well within earshot when Twilight said, “Indeed. As my brother would say during his own training, ‘We’re going to die if anything worse than a picnic spat knocks down the door.’ Luckily, he changed the regimen when he became Captain, and the Guard stopped being so complacently incompetent.

“I would also note that your Guard was defeated on its home turf, as you’ve said many times in the past,” Shinya pointed out. “I agree with the sentiment, however. They drill well, but this is simply a mess.”

“Okay, first of all, Changelings are shapeshifters, and their Queen was siphoning off my his magic through his love to Cadence, who the Queen was impersonating. And besides, the Middle and Lower Cities held the line. Only the Upper City and the Palace fell.”

“Those are the most important locations, are they not?” Chack asked. “Your Palace is like our Great Halls, correct?”

Twilight bit her lip. “Yesh,” she admitted. “But some of the Guards there were impersonated, too! Fighting the pony who’s been by your side for years isn’t something I’d be willing to do, either.”

Shinya bowed his head slightly. “I will concede to that.”

Alden waved at the ‘Cats. “If we didn’t have to change up the rhythm, it’d be fine. They’ve got the discipline, but not the skills. And some of the guys from those Homes are a bit set, if you know what I mean.” He turned to face the others. “Wait--where’s Twilight?”

Chack scanned the crowd and pointed to a small group off to the side, where Twilight’s distinctive violet skin twirled and the staff in her hand whisked mere inches from a ‘Cat’s face. “She appears to be trying to get those Fristars in line. Should we help her?”

“Nah. She used her copy-paste spell to get everything on combat I know. Damn, my head feels weird just thinking about it! But yeah, she’ll be fine. Let’s just watch.” He walked over to the confrontation anyway.

A ‘Cat went down, his stomach working to fill his empty lungs. Another squirmed on the ground and wheezed. When Twilight saw Pete approach, she gestured for him to make a point--probably the same one she made herself. Two ‘Cats down, and the only effect on her was a slightly altered breath pattern. The slightest shake of his head, really only seen by her, gave her his answer.

One of the Fristars, easily the biggest of the five--now three--’Cats that had been making trouble, beat his chest in defiance and rammed a spear into the ground. Gasps went through the crowd: a formal challenge had been made. He and Twilight began to circle, and when she reached the spear, she picked it up and threw it down, accepting the challenge.

“You dare to shame Fristar in this way, alien?” the ‘Cat demanded.

“Yes, because you are the problem, not me,” she cooly replied. Her eyes glistened, but no magic formed around her hands. “Sergeant Alden, Lieutenant Shinya, Chack, and I have been working to create a camaraderie of trust and friendship in this army, and I will not allow you to disrupt it when we need to band together. In case you haven’t noticed, it’s easier to pick you off one by one than it is to take all of you on at the same time. You remember the news about Amazonia Home, do you not? Broken and burning amongst the rocks, its people forever lost? Murdered by the Grik? If we don’t band together, their fate will be the same as ours! Even you must see the logic in that. If you do, then we will teach you not how to fight, but how to kill. And if you don’t…” She gestured to the spear. “Be my guest.”

Pete’s eyes widened as the two continued to circle. Twilight had never killed anyone in her entire life--aside from a few hundred Grik in a ship or two, but they were just creatures at best. She’d stressed that killing wasn’t a thing in Equestria. And yet, here she was, coldly daring an opponent to attack her. There was no question about the results of such a endeavor. If he did, he would die.

The ‘Cat seemed to recognize that, too, and when he reached the spear, he kicked it away, rescinding his challenge.

“Then show me, Prin-sess Maa-reen,” he said, directing his gaze to Alden as well. “Teach me how to kill.”

Twilight laughed with glee as the wind bit her face, leaning as far over the bridgewing rail as she dared. Walker’s stern crouched low, and the old knife-point bow rose over the waves as she leapt from the fueling pier with the grace and speed of a pouncing cat. Beside her, just as excited but more conservative toward her position, Kansas smiled. Matt’s expedition was underway, with two regiments of Marines, one of Guards, and the rest militia made from the other Homes and Baalkpan. The militia, on Salissa, were already underway. Twilight’s Royal Guards were spread through a bunch of feluccas, and the Walker carried the Marines. Once the fight began, Twilight would teleport herself and Kansas to the lead felucca--assuming it didn’t sink.

As the destroyer passed the mouth of Baalkpan Bay, cheers erupted from the largest felucca in the expedition, just ahead. Twilight returned her Guards’ emphatic waves with her own while Matt blew the whistle in greeting. The felucca was near the rear of the formation, with Salissa about a quarter-mile ahead and the remaining dozen feluccas forming a circle around the massive cannon-armed Home.

The sun hid behind a curtain of gunmetal-gray clouds, obscuring its rays and replacing them with a gloomy atmosphere. Walker’s exhaust added a dark tone to the mix, and the silhouettes of the other ships deepened the feeling. Despite this, Twilight was having a blast. She was back on the open ocean.

Her ears perked with the distant drone of the PBY’s twin engines. She turned around just in time to see the seaplane and its newly-repaired wing bounce off a whitecap wave and lumber into the sky. It wobbled worryingly, but it held together. Its pilot--probably Ben Mallory--made a gradual banking turn over Walker’s fo’c’sle. Even from a hundred feet or so up, his engines drowned out all other sounds for a solid minute. Then it flew away, banking to the right and into the overcast cloud cover beyond the horizon.

Twilight redirected her attention to the fo’c’sle. The number-one gun crew were cleaning out the barrel and breech, and were having a bit of trouble navigating around the crazy contraption next to them. Matt wanted to use it in the operation, but rigged for sea, all it did was crowd the already-cramped space with a bamboo structure. Similar contraptions adorned the feluccas that carried the Guards.

Verun-Kanas’s tail twitched as Twilight climbed back down to the deck. “Sky Priest Adar was correct,” she said. “This is going to be a bad storm.”

Author's Note

As I've been leading to for a few chapters now, we will have some more action. The Guards and Marines can finally shine.

And to answer a comment about putting an invisibility spell on the PBY and bombing Amagi with it sometime in the future being not a great move, rest assured that I agree. That is WAY too cheeky for me, and it's not gonna happen. I fight magic with magic.

Chapter 25

Keje-Fris-Ar anxiously watched as his sopping-wet People tried to set up some kind of shelter in the sheet rain and howling wind that ravaged them under a thick blanket of dark gray clouds. Two feluccas were beached but not before tranferring their “Royal Guards” to others, and gri-kakka boats plied back and forth between the beach and a half-sunk Salissa just beyond the breakers, navigating carefully around the fallen forward tripod and wing debris around the massive Home. The trip out was, admittedly, much more difficult than the ride in, but each one was necessary. His People gave the appearance of a shipwrecked Home: scattered, weary, and disorganized. It was the perfect target for marauding Grik patrol!

As if his thoughts were a prophecy, a signal flag rolled up Salissa’s center tripod. It was an acknowledgement flag: the Grik had already been spotted, and were likely bearing down on their prey. Other flags unfurled and whipped in the wind. From what he remembered of Matt’s explanations, they said that there were three Grik ships.

“Brother!” he called as Sky Priest Adar climbed out of a gri-kakka boat. “It is good to see you still alive in this torrent!”

“Indeed,” Adar replied when he was closer. “I saw the signals. The Grik come.”

“So I must go to Salissa. Take care of our People, brother.”

“That will be difficult, but not impossible. I will act in your stead. Kill Grik and emerge victorious, brother.”

Keje patted Adar’s shoulder and climbed into the gri-kakka boat. He felt the misery of the boat crew folk as they strained against the waves, but they quickly reached Salissa’s lee. He clambered to the deck, inspecting the “fake” storm damage. Barrels, yardarms, and other unrecognizable debris were strewn across the deck. He glanced back at the beach, where his People began to panic.

On the battlement, he raised a pair of binoculars borrowed from Courtney Bradford and confirmed three bloodred Grik hulls under separate towers of dingy canvas in the stormy sea beyond the rocks. They were advancing quickly, and all doubt of going unnoticed dissipated. His ears registered the distant, nearly overwhelmed drone of the PBY’s engines as it turned away and headed back to Baalkpan. Walker was still nowhere to be found.

A felucca, caught between the Grik vessels and the rocks, piled on as much sail as it dared and darted behind a wave, disappearing for a few seconds. When it came into view again, two of the Grik ships were heaving to while the third hung back. All three dropped barges chock full of warriors into the water to attack Salissa, then her helpless People on the beach. His stomach churned at the thought.

The caught felucca flew a light blue flag with a sun, moon, and two elongated creatures in a circle, indicating that Twilight Sparkle was aboard. The flag was apparently one of the few things recovered before her ship had sunk, before the People had met Walker, and represented her own People. After months of necessary neglect, it once again fulfilled its purpose.

“I believe that it is our move,” he said to one of Adar’s acolytes. The acolyte raised a small handheld device in the air and pulled the trigger. A bright reddish object plumed upward from a thin trail of smoke, eventually vanishing from sight. It then blossomed for a few seconds, shining a light that would be visible for miles.

The Grik paused, obviously scared by the device, but when it didn’t do anything else, they quickly resumed their relentless advance. They were halfway to Salissa now.

“There! Waa-kur has come!” Jarrik-Fas cried, pointing to a small gray shape three miles to the north. Keje snarled with the satisfaction of watching the amazing ship pounce upon her unsuspecting enemy with ease.

“They have taken the bait. Shall we?” he asked.

Keje nodded to Jarrik-Fas, who strode to a long bronze cylinder suspended above the deck and struck it energetically with an iron rod. The loud, clear (if a bit flat) notes reverberated nicely through all areas of the ship just as it did during tests. Almost immediately, ten large gunports swung open, and the decks swarmed with militia. The Grik, three-quarters of the way now, paused again in the face of this new threat. For a second, Keje thought they might actually turn around, but they once again resumed with a crescendo of noise.

The Grik finally seemed to notice Walker. Keje watched with a predatory smile as one of the ships piled on as much sail as possible and quickly gathered way. The other two weren’t so lucky: one accidentally clattered one of its feet to the water with a splash, while the other found a course that might collide it with Salissa. The felucca with Twilight’s flag swung back around the rocks, joined by several others. From Keje’s vantage point, he could guess that she would try to capture the ship that had dropped anchor.

“At my command, Jarrik-Fas…”

Twilight silently urged her felucca ahead, hoping to catch the ship that orbited around its anchor rope before its crew cut it loose. She bounced on the waves, drenching her rain-soaked uniform with salty ocean spray. Her mind scanned the Grik ship’s topsides, and her heart sank as she realized that she would have to take it without Walker’s machine guns to clear the deck. Thankfully, Chief Gray had given her some weapons, but she was limited to a Thompson, a BAR (both operated by volunteering destroyermen), and the half-dozen grenades hanging on her belt.

She leaned around the boarding ramp thing--called a corvus by the Americans--on the felucca’s bow and prayed that it would hold. If it failed, she would be forced to either abandon the operation or cast a mentally-draining spell to get everyone across.

The ship kept circling its anchor rope. When the felucca came close enough, a nauseous wave of stench blew over via the wind.

“Mr. Felts! Mr. Donaghey! Help me clear the topsides!” she called.

Within seconds, the brap-bap-bap-bap of Felt’s Thompson and duller bam-bam-bam of Donaghey’s BAR rang loudly in her ears. Being without Walker’s machine guns, they were allotted more ammo, but they would still need to be careful. Twilight blasted magic across the gap, taking out the mainmast and mizzen with precise hits that would impress Princess Celestia given the circumstances. The two masts crashed to the deck, crushing who-knew-how-many Grik beneath them.

A dull whump sounded from Salissa. Stealing a glance, she saw that the entire ship was obscured by a blanket of smoke. All of the small Grik boats were gone, too.

“That’s as clear as it’ll get from here, ma’am!” Felts yelled.

“Got it. Stand back!” Twilight signaled for the first of her Guards to swing the corvus down onto the Grik ship. The felucca captain navigated a little closer, and Twilight had to take a moment to appreciate the concentration and skill required to hold position like he did without Walker’s engines. Speaking of which--the old destroyer was currently grappling with her enemy and probably boarding.

The corvus crashed down, bending horrifyingly far before springing back. With a scream imitating Griffon war cries, Twilight brandished her mage-blades and followed the first of her Guards across the corvus and onto the Grik deck.

Author's Note

And soon, we shall learn the true nature of our enemy...

Chapter 26

Grik bodies in varying states of dismemberment littered the deck, some crushed, some mangled by bullets, and some burnt by magic. Most didn’t move. Those that did were swiftly stopped.

Wreckage was strewn all over the ship. Frayed stays and splintered wood surrounded the crispy stumps that used to be the mainmast and mizzen, while the masts themselves hung over the side, causing a severe list to port. Yardarms and other recognizable and debris had impaled the deck on their way down, making a mini forest of tiny naked trees near the poop deck.

A Guard next to her cried out in pain and dropped. Twilight whirled around and saw a crossbow bolt sticking out from his now-still chest. She clutched covered her own chest in surprise. A couple of degrees off, and it would’ve hit her. She guessed at where the bolt had come from, but there was nobody on the deck other than her swarming Guards.

A head poked up from a hatch near the stern. She blasted a bolt of lightning at it, but it dropped from a longbow arrow before her magic reached it. A stolen glance to the left told her that Verun-Kanas’ felucca was approaching from the stern, and her backpack-burdened exec stood next to its corvus, bow in hand. A few seconds later, she bounded between the two ships, adding to the cluster.

“I’m glad you made it!” Twilight yelled over the storm. “Top deck should be clear now. I need you to get some guys down the hatches and take the next deck. Here,” she said removing four precious grenades from her belt, “Have Mr. Felts and Mr. Donaghey use these. Don’t forget about dropping down both hatches!”

“Yes, Mother,” Verun-Kanas quipped in surprisingly good English as she accepted the grenades. “You take officer area. Go!”

Twilight waved to three Guards and dashed up to the hatch where the Grik had poked his head. Like she’d used modern explosives her entire life, she pulled a pin and popped it down the hole and ducked. A red cloud of downy fuzz erupted with a small chorus of wails. The three Guards covered the entry and nodded.

Twilight grimly unbuckled her mage-blade scabbards to get them out of the way, kicked the hatch open, and jumped into the fray.

“I understand your concern, Shining Armor. Rest assured that I have my top researchers working on a way to bring Twilight back to Equestria. It may take years to fully translate both the spells, context, and ritualistic systems of Star Swirl’s library, however.”

“Use a translation spell!”

“Translation spells only work on spoken language and pronunciations. Ancient archived spells are neither.”

“It’s been months! Surely, you’ve found something.”

“We have, although admittedly, it was Twilight’s own research. She can still send letters using the ambient magic of the world she’s in, and that has significantly sped our progress because we now know what to look for. If we can find the spell used to create Star Swirl’s mirror portal, we can possibly calibrate it to reach her. Until then, you need to trust me. Twilight has faced adversity before, and she has a highly advanced crew to look out for her. I’m sure she’s safe.”

I’m gonna die! Twilight internally screamed as a Grik slipped on the bloody deck and tumbled, almost impaling her with its wicked claws as she twisted out of the way. She gasped in pain when a long, jagged splinter from the grenaded table stabbed through her armpit and up into her shoulder blade. Her left arm dropped like a marionette with its strings cut, and her right let go of her sword. Another desperate twist saved her by the skin of her teeth again as the Grik slipped on a rapidly-growing dark pool of newly-added blood.

CRASH!

The Grik that was attacking her howled in pain. It swiped wildly at the new combatant--a Guard, from his tear-blurred appearance--but was quickly cut down. Its final screech ground the inside of Twilight’s ears like nails on a chalkboard.

“Princess!” the Guard said, and reached down to her. She threw her right arm at him, which he caught, and let herself be pulled back to her feet.

“Are you alright?”

“My arm… I can’t feel my arm…” She started to pull the splinter, but the Guard stopped her.

“Don’t touch it. We’ll get you out of here.”

“No… No… I… I stay here.” She fought the fuzzy, shocked feeling growing in the instinctual part of her mind.

“Ma’am, you’re bleeding out.”

“So are you.” Twilight gestured to his many cuts.

“I can feel my arm.”

“No! I have to finish this!”

“Ma’am, you cannot use your arm!”

She carefully placed her palm on the injury and let magic surge through it. The electrical shock burned her flesh, but she gritted her teeth and finished cauterizing the wound. The world felt almost dizzy. “Well, I'm not bleeding anymore. I told Matt I’d take this ship when we saw there were three.” Twilight picked her sword off the bloody deck and stabbed it into the dead Grik. “ And by Celestia, I’m gonna do it.” She removed her sword from the Grik. The muffled bam-bam-bam of Donaghey’s BAR and sharper brap-bap-bap of Felts’ Thompson sounded through the forward bulkhead, as well as the loud BANG of a grenade.

The Guard swallowed. “Yes, ma’am.”

“Leave no room unchecked.” Twilight made her way to the back of the room. She threw open a door and charged through with a blood-curdling scream to match the equally frightening screech of a surprised Grik on the other side. A few seconds later, her sword met fleshy resistance, and the Grik was dead.

Then, ignoring the other noises that rang through the ship, she looked around. This was the Captain’s quarters, if she had to guess, and also a study of sorts for its occupant. Tablets and charts were scattered along the shelves, next to… skulls. Animal skulls. Twilight immediately thought of Fluttershy and how she would completely melt down at the sight. But she couldn’t take her eyes off the most prominent and common skull--that of a Lemurian, from its shape. She felt the rush of blood to her head and forcibly calmed herself.

Then she saw a mostly-empty bottle and a crudely painted sun on the tablet resting in the middle of the desk near the stern windows. The sun was half red, half yellow. The bottle contained a shred of black leather and an assortment of red and gold hair.

“No… please… anything but that…”

She dropped her sword and dashed to the desk, her heart pounding.

“Sunset Shimmer! No! It can’t be!”

But the crude sun looked like a near-perfect replica of Sunset’s cutie mark, and the hair, upon closer inspection, was in fact real. So was the leather. It felt like Sunset’s jacket…

“Sunset!” There was no stopping the rush of blood and adrenaline this time. Her vision darkened to a deep crimson, and the world fell entirely out of focus. Her brain filtered out everything that wasn’t her. She felt herself pick up her sword, but no longer felt in control.

She fiercely twirled around at the first prick of her ears and nearly stabbed the Guard who’d tried to get her to go topside. He backed away, fear in his eyes.

That look, one of scared betrayal, flooded her rage with remorse. The red faded from her vision, and her sword clanged back down to the deck. Finally, she dropped to her knees as her mind went into overdrive and the shock actually hit her. Her voice wasn’t even recognizable when she spoke again.

“Sunset…”

Author's Note

I thought about doing the reveal as a duel, but I think this is much more dramatic.

Chapter 27

“Princess?”

She’s gone. The Grik took her. My own student… My friend…

“Princess, are you alright?”

Those… evil… creatures TOOK her!

Somebody banged on the door to the forward section of the deck. “You need help back there?”

“Who is it?” Twilight echoed.

“Felts. We’ve cleared this deck and the one below. All that’s left is the hold, and there’s a bunch of ‘em in there. Captain Reddy said something about prisoners…”

With the hesitant help of the Guard, Twilight climbed back to her shaking knees and opened the door. Pain shot through her shoulders, her hair was a fiery mess, and her bloodshot eyes radiated fury. Her sword dangled in her hand, dripping with Grik blood. Even her skin had changed, glowing red with the magic of uncooled rage. The rational of her mind was barely holding her together.

“Wipe them out. All of them.”

Felts took a step back. “Yes, ma’am. We’ll clear them outta the hold. Do you want to, uh, go in with us?”

“No. If I go down there now, I might send us all to Tartarus. I’ll be topside if you need me.” Her skin dimmed and her hair relaxed, but her eyes remained red. “I-I need to think.”

Felts nodded and waved over to Donaghey across the deck. He glanced at Twilight’s belt. “Can I have that grenade if you’re not using it?”

“Yeah.” She held still while he pulled her last grenade from her belt. Seconds later, she heard a BANG followed by the sound of automatic fire. Her rage pulled her towards the hatch down to the hold, but her rationale fought back. With the Guard’s help, she made her way back to the stormy main deck.

Sheet rain poured from the ever-dark sky. Thunder rumbled from somewhere to the north. Flashes of lightning outlined Salissa’s victory over the Grik boarding party and another Indiaman. Farther out to sea, Walker had begun towing its wallowing prey.

The ship lurched to starboard as a wave washed over the side and strained the anchor cable. Three feluccas struggled to hold the Indiaman in place, rowing against the mountainous tide in a desperate attempt to keep clear of the rocks that separated them and Salissa. The corvuses were no longer attached, having been replaced by Home of the Sea-type anchor cable.

Twilight plopped herself next to a medic and waited while she rubbed a viscous, gooey paste on her wounds. Lemurian polta paste had regenerative and antibacterial properties, making it perfect for field treatments, but was also somewhat intoxicating after a while. She had until it made her tipsy to calm down.

Thankfully, the deck had already been cleared by some Guards. The lost masts were no longer tied to the ship, and the yards couldn’t poke holes in the hull. The rocks still concerned her, but she couldn’t do much about that at the moment.

Wait and see… Maybe she’s still alive in the hold…

Despite everything, an overwhelming exhaustion overcame her, and she shut her eyes, rocked to sleep by the ship’s constant motion.

“Twilight, do you recognize this?” a man asked.

Twilight groaned and opened her eyes. Her left arm was still unresponsive, but her right brushed a sopping clump of hair that had draped over her face.

“Shining Armor?”

“She’s still asleep, Felts!” That was Verun-Kanas.

So it wasn’t a bad dream. Her brother wasn’t here. She wasn’t in Equestria. Everything had actually happened.

“Where am I?” she asked.

“We’re still on the Grik ship,” Verun said. “The storm should be dying down soon.”

Twilight shook her head and rolled, crashing to the deck. She gasped in pain as her body locked up, her muscles stiff from fighting. Somebody picked her up. When she craned her head to see who, she saw it was Donaghey. She let him hold her on her feet until her head stopped spinning.

“So, uh, what did you want me to see?”

Felts held out his hand, and Twilight immediately regretted her question. He held not the scrap of leather from the “trophy room,” but an entire ripped sleeve, crusty with saltwater. Its orange cloth was barely noticeable under the damage, but it was there. Woven within the cloth, a faint magic feebly resisted nature’s effects in a losing battle.

She felt the magic recognize her and call for help. Her hand hovering over the cloth, she let a bit of magic flow into it. The crust fell away, revealing its original sunset-orange color.

“This was Sunset Shimmer’s sleeve,” she finally said. She took the cloth and held it close. “Please don’t be dead.” Tears filled her eyes and her lips wobbled. The air inaudibly crackled with magical energy for a brief second.

“Who is Sunset Shimmer, exactly?” Felts asked. “You’ve mentioned her before.”

“She’s my student… and my friend. She didn’t have to die like this.”

Verun-Kanas’s ears pricked. “Waa-kurr horn! Waa-kurr comes!”

Donaghey and Felts guided Twilight outside while Kansas led the way. Topside, they saw that the sky had brightened considerably in the past hour or so, and Walker steamed in circles, her prize towed behind her. On the prize’s lone mast, the American flag flapped in the wind above the red Grik banner. With a smile, Kansas indicated a similar situation overhead, but with Twilight’s only Equestrian flag, which was recovered from Friendship before she sank. The familiar drone of the PBY grew as the large plane rumbled in from the north, touching down on the somewhat-rough seas with all the grace and agility of a bellyflopping whale.

Matthew Reddy searched Twilight’s target ship with his binoculars, hoping she had succeeded. Her people only had two modern weapons and six grenades to help them, whereas Walker’s party had access to several times as much for each. When he saw Twilight, Kansas, Felts, and Donaghey on the deck, he smiled.

“They did it. They’re alright!” he called to nobody in particular.

Nurse Lieutenant Sandra Tucker, standing next to him, tiredly smiled. “At least they have Twilight. Her magic is powerful.”

“She’s resourceful, I’ll give her that,” Alden said. He watched with his own binoculars. “She doesn’t look good.”

“Well, she’s probably been down in the hold.”

Alden shook his head. “No, it’s not that. She looks heartbroken. Didn’t she say something about somebody else from her world getting stuck here?”

“She did. Sunset Shimmer, I believe. We talk about her often.” Matt lowered his binoculars as realization struck. “Oh, no.”

“What’s wro--That’s really bad.” Alden frowned. “The Grik got her.”

Author's Note

I'm going off Sunset's outfit from Forgotten Friendship, for reference.

Chapter 28

Sunset Shimmer’s head swam. She blinked some of the stars in her eyes away and yawned. A utilitarian gray ceiling came into focus. Her eyes shot open and she sat up, her heart racing. Her breath came in short, ragged gasps for air, and the sudden motion made her dizzy.

She scanned the room. It was dull and gray with a bed, a dresser, and a washbasin, but nothing more. A dim light hung from the ceiling, swaying from side to side.

I must be on a ship of some kind. “Hello?” she croaked. She coughed to clear her throat. “Is anyone there?”

Knock, knock. “Are you dressed decently?” somebody replied in a weird accent she’d never heard before.

Sunset looked down. Her clothes were reduced to rags. How did this happen? She picked at her destroyed blue shirt and looked around. Luckily, someone had left some replacements near the end of the bed.

“Give me a minute,” she called.

It took much longer than a minute to change, especially once she realized how scrawny she was. She could literally count her ribs, and her gut had shrunk to half of how she remembered it. Her arms were bony, and a long scar ran up the back up her leg. But she succeeded in the end.

“Okay, I’m done now.”

The door that separated her room from the outside creaked open, and a man entered with a tray of some kind of food. He wore a dark blue uniform with some weird insignia.

“This is for you, Ms. Shimmer,” he said, placing the tray on the bed--no, it was more like a cot. “I am Commander Sato Okada of the Imperial Japanese Navy ship Amagi. You are a guest aboard here, and as such, have been given accomodations equivalent to a high-ranking officer. I am authorized to answer any questions you may have, so please, ask.”

Sunset smoothed her new clothes. Now that she thought about it, they must’ve given her some spares. The food smelled great despite its less than stellar looks, and she took a moment to revel in it. When was the last time I ate? She dove into the food with a vigor that Princess Celestia--she growled at the thought of her--went through cake. Something told her that Celestia wasn’t bad, but it was quickly squashed by another, more sinister, part of her mind.

“So, how do you know my name?” she asked around a mouthful.

“I was told.”

“What do you do on this ship?”

“I am what you would call the ‘executive officer’. Only Captain Kurokawa outranks me unless an admiral is aboard, which is not likely to happen for quite some time.”

“You know where… my friends…” Who? “Never mind. It--it doesn’t matter.” She munched on a cracker. “So, if you’re such a high-ranking officer, why were you carrying the food?”

“Until you are properly healed from recent events, I am the only person on the ship authorized to interact with you, aside from my captain. This includes bringing food, and he is insistent on not ‘stooping to low levels’ for you. I myself do not mind the work, however.”

“You mentioned this ship is in some sort of navy? Are we gonna be fighting pirates?”

“Unfortunately, yes and no. We are fighting other people, but they are not pirates. We are at war with the United States of America and their allies, so our task is to engage and eliminate all assets belonging to them. We have been told that you will aid us in this endeavour.”

“I’m in a war?” Sunset pulled at her hair and took a few deep breaths. “I’m gonna die,” she moaned.

“You are the only magic use we have. I can guarantee that you will receive adequate protection.”

“Oh, no…”

Something bumped the ship, but Sato Okada didn’t seem to notice.

“You feel that?” she asked.

“Feel what?”

“Something hit us, like a wave.”

“A wave is nothing to fear, Sunset Shimmer.”

“No, it wasn’t the ocean.” She pushed the door open and wandered out into the hall. “I need to go outside.”

A beep brought her attention back into the room. Okada replied to a comm circuit in a different language, nodded, and grimaced.

“What was that?”

“I am needed on the bridge, and you are coming with me. Captain Kurokawa gave the order himself, so this must be serious. I do hope nothing damaged us.”

Okada led the way through winding passages and up skinny staircases that were really just ladders. They passed several junior officers and enlisted men, all of whom stepped aside to give them space.

On the bridge, a tall, skinny man with a slightly plumish face frowned behind the guy at the wheel. He spun around as they entered and returned Okada’s quick gesture of respect.

“I came as quickly as I could, Captain. What seems to be the issue?”

Captain Kurokawa walked out to the starboard bridgewing and pointed southeast. “That, Commander, is the problem.”

Sunset squinted in the mid-morning sun. “Is that… a ring of black lightning coming over the horizon?”

“I cannot see lightning, but the sky has changed hues. Perhaps you could explain?”

“Well, I do know a lightning spell. Pretty good prank if you get the magnitude right. Otherwise it just hurts somebody. But ring lightning is Royal Guard stuff, if I remember correctly. It’s been years since I’ve been to Equestria.” She hissed at the name of her old home and the memories it brought to mind.

“But what does it mean?” Okada prodded. His tone was a more polite than his captain’s.

“Could mean anything, really. I do know that black is for mourning. So somebody--or more likely, pony--just lost someone close.”

“How far?”

“Really far. I can’t… maybe three thousand miles? I’ve never seen a spell that lasted long enough to see from that distance. Thing is, you can’t see the lightning itself unless you can use magic. Otherwise, it looks like a darker blue.”

“So, we’ve found their mage. Commander, use our charts to estimate their position. I imagine that our next meeting with the Grik will be well in our favor.”

Chapter 30

The “Allied Expeditionary Force” sailed slowly into Baalkpan’s smooth, glass-calm bay, their two prizes in tow. A chorus of cheers rang from the docks as Salissa and the feluccas came alongside and the prize ships were tied to the pier. A small contingent of Marines and Guards kept the crowd at bay before they witnessed the horrors of the holds until Nakja-Mur’s soldiers reinforced them dockside. Then, as Walker pulled into the fitting-out pier and the PBY’s droning engines were heard on the horizon, the cheers redoubled.

Before anyone could disembark, Nakja-Mur himself tromped up the gangplank with Keje. The High Chief of Baalkpan was not happy. He responded cordially to the hasty bosun’s pipe when he gained the deck, but quickly moved to Matt, Gray, and Twilight.

“You want us to help those… heretics… in Aryaal?” he demanded, although a little calmer than he would’ve if Twilight’s glaring scowl didn’t pierce his heart.

“Yes. We began planning on the way back, but we still need to put it through the others before anything can actually happen,” Matt warily replied.

“Is it not enough that we fight the Grik? The Aryaalans are fierce warriors, yes, but they may worship feces for all I know.”

“If we don’t at least get them on our side, they’ll be filling Grik bellies, which is more help to the Grik than it is to us. I’m sending the PBY to scout out the situation first tomorrow morning. Which means we need to hold a Gathering.”

“You could easily do it with your iron ship, without us.”

“Except Baalkpan is the supporting structure that Walker needs to function. We need fuel. We need food. Without you, we’d likely be dead, and Walker rusting on some beach. We need each other.”

“I doubt that the motion will gain traction.”

“Not with that attitude. We already have part of a plan. All we need is for them to buy into it.”

“I’m not buying into it, and Keje-Fris-Ar has already told me this plan.”

“You don’t need to. You just need to convince everyone else. With the right support, we can do this. I also recommend that you talk to some of the poor souls we found in those hulls, if not go down there yourself. It’s an experience.”

“I will. Perhaps the ‘experience’ will change my mind. If it does not, I will still support the general consensus of the Gathering.”

Matt nodded gratefully. “Thank you.”

Several days passed as more and more Homes entered the bay and the Marines and Guards, now with actual combat experience, trained their new recruits. Nakja-Mur visited both prizes and spoke to many of the survivors, and changed his view drastically. Virtually every piece of copper in the city was sent to the foundries, fueling an eternal fire of molten metal. No more would anyone hold back from training: all able-bodied Lemurians were now required to attend training under Alden, Chack, Twilight, and their NCO’s.

The Marine ranks swelled, and cuts had to be made, but everyone was given a place in one of the new Baalkpan Guard regiments--the First, Second, Third, Fourth, and Fifth, respectively. Twilight’s Royal Guards bloomed as well, despite her volatile reputation. The Homes rotated their own guard details ashore to train, sometimes under the normal regimen, sometimes under Equestrian. But there was always a space.

The two prizes were begrudgingly refitted. Most of the ‘Cats wanted to just burn the things, but while Matt was sympathetic, he couldn’t let them. They needed ships, and they couldn’t afford the hit. For once, real resistance met the destroyermen’s plans. Adar finally came forward and said that the souls trapped aboard the two former Grik Indiamans would welcome the opportunity to exact revenge on their murderers.One of the ships, renamed Revenge, was gifted to Nakja-Mur as a representation of Baalkpan’s involvement in the war. The other, captured by Twilight’s Guards, became Equestria’s representation and was renamed Phoenix. Revenge sported a near-identical color scheme to the Grik bloodred hulls, minus the gunports being carved into her sides, while Phoenix was being painted with a midnight-blue color with a golden stripe where her gunports would be.

Matt thought about the implications of different hull schemes. On one hand, it would be more difficult to identify friend from foe if everyone painted their ships differently. On the other hand, Phoenix’s first task would be to sail to where Twilight’s old ship Friendship sank and attempt to recover the containers of magic still in her hold. After Twilight raised the wreck onto a beach, she would take the PBY to Aryaal, hopefully in time for the inevitable land battle. As a result, work on Phoenix proceeded much more quickly than on Revenge.

He sighed. Twilight wouldn’t be there for the Gathering that launched the Second Allied Expeditionary Force and might actually miss leading her troops into battle. God knew she wanted to obliterate the Grik, and for her to be doing something else… it couldn’t be helped. They needed that magic until her “refinery” came online. It boosted her power, and already in a physical form, could be applied how she wanted.

God… magic ammunition! Even if the stuff unnerved him, it was too good an opportunity to pass.

“Skipper, you called?” Dennis Silva asked, shaking him back to the present. The big gunner’s mate stood at parade rest, and, being in the wardroom, didn’t throw a salute. Chief Gray towered next to him.

“I did. It’s about Twilight.”

“Skipper, she’s a fine gal and all--and a princess, too!--but I don’t see why she’d be a problem. Her shootin’s good. She hardly ever misses her target. Her ammo scheme sounds sweet, too. Whatever you’re thinkin’, Skipper, I didn’t--”

“Silva.”

Gray grunted and sat.

Matt continued: “This isn’t about relationships. Twilight’s setting sail in two days aboard Phoenix with a relatively untrained crew to where her ship sank when we first met her.”

“Skipper, with all due respect an’ stuff, she don’t need a guide. She’s got magic.”

“Would you just listen, Silva?” Gray growled.

“I don’t like it, sending her alone. And I can’t go off with her. She trusts you, Mr. Silva, whether you see it or not, and she respects you. That’s why I’m sending you with her. Your orders are to keep her safe, not to tangle with anything you can’t handle, and make sure she doesn’t try to pull anything stupid. I’m putting a lot of trust in you to do this right.”

Silva straightened. “Aye, Skipper, I’ll follow those orders to the letter! But if you mind the question, why tell me now?”

“So you have time to look through the armory choose what you want, but don’t take four different guns. That all?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good. dismissed.”

Author's Note

I thought about Twilight pulling some crazy stunt to get to Aryaal (and Silva possibly going with her as "protection"), but I think this works better.

Chapter 31

Twilight watched Phoenix’s crew load supplies aboard, lifting some of the heavier boxes with her magic as needed, but generally staying out of the way. Most of it was food and tools, but a fair amount of space was taken by a crane for the magic containers still aboard the sunken Friendship.

Kansas stood next to her, tail twitching. “Ma’am, are you sure this is a good idea? We won’t have you when we land in Aryaal.”

“Not at all, but we need that magic. Imagine if the Grik had it--and they could use it. Equestrian magic is like the ‘Holy Grail’ of war material, as the destroyermen would say.” She paused as a familiar stomp reverberated through the pier. “Mr. Silva. I thought you’d be with Risa.”

“Naw, Purple, the Skipper said I’m commin’ with you. Be your personal bodyguard!”

“As much as I appreciate the gesture, Mr. Silva, I think I can handle myself.”

Kansas nudged her. “I would rather he went with you, ma’am. It’s better to be safe than it is to be killed.”

“Alright.” She gestured for Silva to board. “I’ll be there at Aryaal, just not at the start. I’m sure you can handle it.”

“Good luck!” Kansas called as Twilight stepped onto the gangplank.

“Thanks. I’ll take as much as I can.”

With the last supplies and crew aboard, Phoenix dropped her topsails and let the wind and outgoing tide carry her away from the dock. A farewell toot toot whistled from Walker in a small burst of steam. Twilight cast a firework spell in reply, showering the bay in beautiful violet fragments of magic.

As Phoenix cleared the mouth of the bay, her main sails dropped from the yardarms and filled with wind. Twilight smiled at the sun/moon embroidery on the flag, which flapped off the stern in the breeze. It was an alternate version of the Equestrian flag (one that wasn’t used often) but certainly easier to explain than how to draw Princess Celestia and Princess Luna.

Silva joined her behind the steering wheel, his BAR slung over his shoulder and ammo pouches adorning his belt. Not for the first time, Twilight noticed how he carried the heavy rifle with ease, and she suspected that he would carry man more weapons if someone let him.

“It’ll take a few days to get there,” she said. “I don’t know if anything’s left of her, given what lives in this sea.”

“Your old ship ain’t gone nowhere ‘cept the bottom, Purple,” he replied. “Magic gives everyone the heebie-jeebies. Wouldn’t be surprised if the fish didn’t like it either.”

“You’re right. But…” She stopped. “You feel that? Someone’s watching us.”

“Yeah, the ‘Cats.”

“No, not them. It’s magical.” She scanned the sky. “Damn. Whatever it was, I don’t feel it anymore.”

Silva glanced around. A sinking feeling crept into his stomach. If that Nightmare Moon person showed up while they were separated from the others, they were screwed.

Oh well, he thought. At least we haven’t heard from that Jap battlecruiser since we got here. If anything could make their situation worse, it would be Amagi.

Several days later, Phoenix dropped anchor a few miles north of Menjangan Island, where Walker’s crew found and rescued Twilight from her sinking ship. The little island, next to Bali (where Twilight killed something for the first time) and Java. somewhere up the Java coast, Aryaal awaited the arrival of Matt’s Allied Expeditionary Force, already en route. From her scrying, she could tell Mahan was there too.

“So, uh, how are we gonna find your ship?” Silva asked. “It ain’t exactly stickin’ out of the water.”

Twilight closed her eyes and reached out with her magic. A slight purplish glow emanated from her, through the deck, and into the water. After a fashion, it coalesced into a large circle about three hundred yards off the port beam. Twilight grunted and scrunched her face in an effort to raise the waterlogged ship. The strain on her mind was obvious: sweat stung her eyes and her arms trembled. Silva took a rag and wiped her face, but she was too focused to notice.

Eventually, a snapped mast poked through the waves, quickly followed by sopping sail fragments, dripping yardarms, and the poop deck. It seemed to pause just before the main deck emerged, as if the ocean itself fought the unnatural reversal of fortune trying to escape its grasp. Twilight won, though, but at a serious cost to her mental stamina. Water coursed from many holes throughout the hull, waterfalling back into the sea.

“Get us… closer… to land…” she managed. “I-I can’t… keep her up… forever.”

Phoenix’s captain got his crew to work as fast as they could. As soon as the anchor lifted from the seabed, she began to drift. Her sails came down--luckily, the wind was in their favor--but it wouldn’t be enough. The drag induced by the rising anchor slowed them too much.

Acting on instinct, Silva bounded down the length of the ship to where several crew turned the anchor crank with all their might. He pulled one of them out of the way and took his place, offering only a determined scowl in reply to the surprised yelp. With his help, they pulled it up in record time. Stowing it was a cakewalk compared to raising it, so he left them to their tasks.

They sailed closer to land. After what felt like an eternity, Twilight finally felt the silty-sandy bottom near the shore brush against Friendship’s hull, and she gave one final push to beach her. Her arms fell, and her breathing came in ragged gasps. Sweat drenched her face like a squall.

She looked to shore, expecting to see Friendship slide off the bottom, but the ship merely sat at a janky angle, her mizzenmast standing alone above the wreck. A pretty big hole on the port side showed where she’d struck apparently something and begun to founder, likely while Twilight had been knocked out. From the tooth marks surrounding the gap, though, it was Friendship that had been hit.

“The remaining water in the hull should keep her weighed down while she’s there,” Twilight finally said once she’d regained control of her lungs. “Without a radio or a precise location, it might be a couple of days before the plane shows up. Let’s get to work.”

Chapter 32

Twilight, flanked by Silva and several Lemurians, looked up at the barnacle-encrusted hull of a once-proud ship in the Equestrian navy. Its bowsprit jutted out like a pitchfork in a haystack, scraps of sails dangling from it, and its copper-sheathed bottom had begun to rust. The large hole in the forward hold was jagged and splintered with a couple of large teeth still stuck in various places around it.

“A gri-kakka tooth,” one of the Lemurians observed. “Thought ship was food.”

“You mean one of those big pleezy-sores?” Silva asked.

“He does,” Twilight breathed. She braced her hand against the hull and closed her eyes. The ship felt dead, as if the environmental magic that had saturated her for years was gone.

She reached up to the bottom of the hole about a foot above her head, found a grip, and heaved herself up. After a few struggling grunts and a boost from Silva, she made it over the planks and tumbled to the sodden, silty deck with a thud. Seconds later, another thump resonated through the floor.

“Quite a few dead fish in here,” she mumbled before grabbing the sledgehammer that followed her into the ship. Normally, she wouldn’t even consider destroying somepony else’s property, but she was in an alternate world and she needed help. She hefted the sledgehammer and smacked it into the hull, magically strengthening her swing. The specific plank she’d hit flew out of sight and impacted the beach. A couple surprised yelps told her that it wasn’t expected.

She took out a second and third plank, then watched as Silva pulled the hull apart to make an easy-access point. His heavily muscled arms rippled with each movement, mesmerizing her for a split second.

“Where to, Purple?” he asked.

“This is the lower hold. We wanted to move quickly, so any cargo will be in the upper hold, near where you found me. Come on, the ladder’s this waaAAAYYYY!” She slipped on an exposed ballast stone and shielded herself from the deck, but the impact never came. Instead, a rather harsh yank snapped her head back and she cried out. A much gentler pull brought her back to her feet.

“Sorry, ma’am,” Silva said in a very apologetic tone--a new side for him.

“No, I’m good,” she replied. She pulled her hair over her shoulder and threaded her fingers through it, wincing slightly from the ebbing pain on the back of her head. “Getting my hair pulled is better than falling on the rocks.”

“I’ll lead.” Silva kept his balance all the way to the ladder. The Lemurians that followed him were similarly successful. Twilight brought up the rear, taking care to not fall this time.

The other decks stank of dying and dead fish and salty wood rot. It was still, however, more bearable if not pleasant than either of the former Grik ships had been--and still were, if the Lemurians had anything to say. While the crew wandered the length of the ship, Twilight entered the officers’ country.

“If this is supposed’ ta be the gun deck, where’re all the guns?” Silva hollored, making her look up from a particularly salvageable book from Friendship’s captain, Captain Galaxy’s, quarters.

“We don’t have any!” she yelled back. “Never even occurred to us.”

“Well, I guess that makes sense, with your magic and all.”

Twilight looked back at the book. Despite its obvious seawater corrosion and general decomposition, she could still somewhat read what it was saying. A restoration spell helped, though it didn’t completely repair it.

“Legend has it that on the longest…day of the thousandth year, the stars will aid in her escape,” she finished, knowing the old story by heart. She flipped to the cover and smiled. It was a copy of Myths and Legends: An Elder’s Tale, Edition II, Volume III by the famed author and historian Black Inkwell, with a forward by Princess Celestia herself. She remembered using the third volume of the first edition for a history class project while she was at Princess Celestia’s School for Gifted Unicorns. Its companion novel (also by Inkwell), Predictions and Prophecies, also contained the legend of Nightmare Moon, albeit in more detail. Of which there was also a copy in Captain Galaxy’s library. She’d recognize its distinctive leather-bound cover anywhere.

She spent several hours restoring what she could and filtering through the rest. Most of the maps were gone, but the one mapping Manehattan’s harbor survived. A couple letters of correspondence between Celestia and Luna were salvaged, as well as several more books, which were a surprisingly even mix of standard naval stuff and Blackwell’s compilations.

A Lemurian knocked on the wall behind her. “Prin-cess, we have found two of the magic and brought them to the beach.”

“Oh. Thank you. Could you get something to carry these in?” she asked, gesturing at the recovered books and papers. “They’re important.”

“Of course, ma’am.” He scurried down to the camp that the rest of Phoenix’s crew had set begun setting up in the last few hours, returning quickly with a large sack. Under her watchful gaze, her carefully set the books and gingerly carried it down.

Twilight sighed and pushed through another door. It creaked open to reveal her quarters during the voyage. She hadn’t brought much: just a waterproof bag her friends gave her as an early Hearth’s Warming present. Remembering one of the things she did bring, she found a small box with a food preservation spell cast on it. She opened it and was greeted by the delicious smell of Granny Smith’s apple pie. It took a mountain of willpower to resist eating it right then and there. Next to the pie, there were a couple honeycrisp apples and a container of cider.

A tear escaped her eye as she closed the food box and rummaged through the rest of the bag. A new jeweled necklace from Rarity, the latest Daring Do book from Rainbow Dash, a bag of animal feed from Fluttershy, and another food box (this time with sweets) from Pinkie Pie. Finally, a star that resembled her cutie mark carved in oak wood was a combined present from all of her Ponyville friends.

She haltingly gasped and the tears flowed freely when she picked up the star. It wasn’t just any oak tree: it was still a little charred on the back, where a picture of all of them together in front of the Golden Oaks Library on Nightmare Night hung from a loose staple. She carefully removed the staple. So many memories were etched into the fibers of the wooden star, memories she could never relive again. What she had left behind finally hit her, and all of her emotions partially relieved by talking to Celestia (but never quite gone) boiled over.

Some time later, she was able to place the star and picture back in the bag and close it. She picked it up, scanned the room to make sure she didn’t miss anything, and made her way back to the beach. It was time to go back to work.

Author's Note

With a little bit of research, I found that Predictions and Prophesies is the book Twilight reads from in EPISODE ONE while she's in the library, which is why I thought it would be a neat callback. I didn't hear a specific author, so I gave it one.

Myths and Legends: An Elder's Tale is not mentioned. However, Equestria should have some folklore, so it makes sense.

Chapter 33

Matthew Reddy felt something ripple from the far northwest, likely hundreds if not thousands of miles beyond the horizon. It was definitely magical, but whatever it was, it wasn’t Twilight. Her magic had more of a mystical, starry feel to it, whereas this felt more like the sundown before a warm summer night. The magic lingered for a few seconds before dissipating, leaving him with the feeling that somebody controlled it. He’d have to ask Twilight when she returned.

In the meantime, he had to content himself with Walker’s corkscrew roll as she bounced through the light swells of the southern Java Sea. The destroyer held a screening position a few miles ahead of the forty large feluccas and five Homes of the Allied Expeditionary Force’s “battle line”: Salissa, Humfra-Dar, Aracca, Neracca, and Fristar. The massive Homes ploughed through the sea with ease under their great tripod sails, completely filled with a wind coming out of the northeast. Another few miles ahead of Walker sailed the former Grik Indiaman Revenge, acting as a scout to stop Grik ships before they encountered Walker and raised some kind of alarm.

Revenge’s hull was painted red rather than Matt’s preferred black with a white stripe over the gunports, but the Grik used red, so if he wanted Revenge to surprise them when they attacked the armada Ben Mallory reported anchored in the bay outside Aryaal, red it had to be. Still, she had a few marked differences: twenty 12-pounder bronze cannons and the United States flag. The guns were tucked behind her hidden gunports, and her flag streamed in the wind. Beyond her hazy form, the island of Java loomed on the horizon. They’d reach Aryaal just before midnight at this pace.

Once again, he contemplated his decision to send Twilight off on her own when the soldiers she’d trained were about to fight without her. Her Royal Guards, or “Royals” for distinguishability, would be on the front lines with six thousand other Lemurians from both Alden’s Marines and the Baalkpan Guard when they landed. Depending on how the Grik leaders interpreted their standard (but slightly different) training, they might be considered either a weak link or a hard nut to crack. He seriously hoped it wouldn’t be the former.

“They’ll be alright,” Lieutenant Sandra Tucker said from beside him as if she was reading his thoughts. “Pete and Shinya both said they’re on par with the Marines.”

“They should have Twilight, though. She trained them.”

“You said yourself that we need the magic from her ship before somebody else finds it. Besides, Nightmare Moon is out there, and so is Twilight’s friend.”

“Yeah, but it’s not like either of them can even get to it.”

“We both know that’s not true. Both of them are extremely powerful. I bet Nightmare Moon could lift that wreck if she wanted.”

“I guess. Did you feel that… I guess it was magic? When the air just… shimmered?”

“I did. It was warm, like a summer sunset.” She gazed to the west. “It’s going to be a pretty night.”

“If we don’t get attacked by a mage.”

Walker crept into Aryaal with her running lights and searchlights off. She now steamed only a couple hundred yards ahead of Salissa, and Revenge a couple hundred yards further. A hush fell over the crew as they watched the lanterns of over four dozen Grik ships, lazily anchored right where Mallory had last seen them. They’d caught their enemy with his britches down, and the ironic feeling of being a predator instead of prey was exhilarating but quiet.

Revenge, with her distinguishing blue lanterns, disappeared into the fleet. Matt tracked her progress. She would fire once discovered, opening the battle and signaling everyone else to begin firing themselves. Several minutes passed with increasing tension. Even with her red paint, she should’ve been spotted by now.

Suddenly, the night lit up with the flash of cannon as Revenge blasted a nearby Grik ship and vanished behind a screen of white smoke. Just as suddenly, the roar reached them. A steady pounding followed the initial boom, joined by the rolling thunder of the battle line and crash of Walker’s own guns. The four-inch-fifties aimed near the waterline, trying to sink the Grik ships in as few shots as possible. Meanwhile the three-inch on the fantail thumped star shells into the sky, illuminating the night’s carnage.

Some of the Grik ships scurried to react. Crossbow bolts thrummed from the nearest ones, and a couple others started throwing fireballs. One of number one’s crew, shrieking in pain as one of the fireballs hit him, tumbled off the side and into the black water below. Matt shuddered.

The bay started to become more and more cluttered with sunken hulks. Many masts poked above the surface like a stumpy forest, but most likely remained underwater.

Walker bounced from some kind of impact with a sunken ship and began vibrating wildly. Just as suddenly as it started, the motion stopped and her boilers quieted. The number one gun crashed again, spitting fire at a nearby Grik ship.

Matt reached for the engine room telegraph. “Engineering, Bridge. What happened?”

“McFarlane here. I think we threw a blade on the port screw. Starboard should be back up momentarily. Any idea what caused it?”

“Probably hit a sunken mast. Just get the engine running.”

“Aye, Skipper.”

Matt sighed. For the foreseeable future, Walker’s speed was cut in half. Even with three boilers, they could only use one engine. He refocused his attention back to the battle and checked his watch. Just under half an hour had passed. It felt like an eternity, and mopping up the remnants of the wrecked Grik armada felt longer. Finally, the bay fell silent aside from the burning hulks of over forty Grik ships.

“Lookout says there’s a boat to port!” the talker, Fred Reynolds, reported. He paused for a second, listening. “It’s ‘Cats, sir.”

“Hold your fire!” Matt called as he ran to the port bridgewing. Above him, Greg Garrett repeated the order at the clack of a machine gun being racked. He squinted in the dark, eventually making out the vague shapes of five heavily armored ‘Cats, two more decorated ones, and two humans. Two very relieved humans.

“They have defeated our allies in the bay around Surabaya,” Sunset Shimmer said with a trancelike voice. Her eyes, normally blackened by the effects of some sort of mind-control magic, glowed white like a bright light, and her hair floated aimlessly, magically, around her head. “Any troops they have will be free to land and attack the forces assembled around the Tree Prey’s walls.”

Captain Hisashi Kurokawa smiled deviously and turned to Commander Sato Okada. “We will inform our allies of this development. Perhaps it will encourage them to leave this reeking insult of a harbor sooner.”

“And if the American destroyer is sunk before we depart?”

The captain's expression quickly morphed into a scowl. “They will not be sunk by the Grik as long as I live! I swear, if one of those damned wretched lizards of a person kills the American captain in battle, I will personally shoot them with the main battery! And if they sink that ship, I will wipe their pathetic Celestial Mother off the face of the earth! Am I understood?”

“Yes, Captain.” Quieter, so any nearby crew wouldn’t hear, Okada cautioned, “I fear that this may not be honorable. We may have strayed from The Way!”

“My honor requires me to exact my vengeance on the damned Americans who trapped me in this twisted variant of our world. Yours may be different, but as your captain, mine supersedes yours. Now we will make it clear to our allies--” he spat out the word-- “that the American destroyer is ours to sink, and its crew is ours to defeat. Their primitive selves will understand that much.”

“Yes, Captain,” Okada submitted, his tone low. “Ms. Shimmer, what else do you see?”

“I cannot find Twilight Sparkle. She is here in this world. I can feel her, but she is out of sight. She is… longing. She misses her friends and her home. But she is lost, injured. I can feel pain and failure in her magic, but I can’t tell what for.” Sunset’s eyes darkened again as her spell ended.

“You’ve come a long way from being unable to lift a pebble with your magic,” Okada commented.

“I’ve always been a quick study. Probably why Celestia held me back.” She growled. “I’ll show her power.”

“Yes, that’s well and all,” Kurokawa interrupted, “but what did you see, Shimmer?”

“The Americans and their allies have built a sailing warship similar to Grik vessels, but it’s smoother, sleeker, stronger. I don’t know how. They also have many of their larger ships acting as some sort of convoy for their troops. By tomorrow, we may well see the Grik be defeated at Surabaya. That’s all I can tell, Captain,” she answered, bowing her head in submission.

“You said their mage feels pain and failure, and you can see that in their magic, yes?”

“Yes, Captain.”

Kurokawa’s smile returned. “What kind of pain?”

Chapter 34

Twilight massaged her arm, still slowly healing after the fight to take Phoenix, and watched a human-Lemurian crane, quickly thrown together the other afternoon, lift one of the magic containers in Friendship’s upper hold and gently lower it down onto the beach. Two of the nine heavy containers had already been offloaded from the wreck, having been in the lower hold and therefore easily accessible to the initial entry point.

Nearby, a small Home-shaped funeral pyre burned. The previous night, the beach party was attacked by indigenous versions of the Grik, and a couple ‘Cats died during the fight. Twilight still felt their loss. They may not have been ponies or yaks or griffons (or any species living in Equestria, really), but they were still under her command and part of the crew aboard a warship under the Equestrian flag. As far as she was concerned, they were Equestrians in their own right.

“You shouldn’t be worryin’ so much about the barrels,” Silva said from his perch on, ironically, one of the crates within which a magic container was buried under general ship supplies. He had a BAR slung over his shoulder, and in his hand, he held a precious half-eaten apple that he seemed to be enjoying like it was the most delicious thing in the world. Twilight still wasn’t sure how he’d found it, but nonetheless let him keep it. He deserved it, and she still had two left.

In the distance, the somewhat-familiar drone of the PBY rumbled into being. A minute later, the big plane appeared between two large, fluffy clouds and thundered down to the water, landing near Phoenix with a feathered splash. From the looks of it, the hard-magic wing was holding up pretty well.

“Mr. Silva, you should take the plane to Aryaal. I think I’ll stay here for a while longer,” she said.

“Why’s that? It can fit more’n both of us.”

“I want one of the barrels to be put aboard Walker, and Captain Reddy needs you and your weapons more than he needs me. I’ll stay here and make sure the other eight make it to the beach, while you take the ninth to Aryaal. I’ll teleport over once I’m done. This won’t be a request, Mr. Silva.”

Dennis straightened his posture a little more. “Yes, ma’am. I’ll make sure it gets there.”

Ben Mallory dropped below the cloud layer around Menjangan, shivering as he remembered the last time he flew in this area. Walker hadn’t been here, nor was she sighted all the way to Alor. He, Perry Brister, and Ed Palmer had no food, almost no water, and he’d been considering feathering one of the props to stretch the fuel so they could reach Balikpapan.

He sighted a distinctive gold stripe against the midnight-blue of Phoenix’s hull bouncing lightly in the low swells, anchored off the island with her sails stowed. Near her, a whole ship had been set on the ground. This second ship had no masts other than the bowsprit, and was similarly colored to Phoenix. Ben could think of a thousand reasons for this, but the only reasonable one was that it was Twilight’s ship when she arrived in this screwed-up world, Friendship.

Before he came closer, he confirmed the Equestrian flags fluttering from both ships and that the small pillar of smoke next to them wasn’t actually a problem. He checked his fuel for the millionth time. Just enough to get to Surabaya with a little to spare. He came in for a landing next to the pier jutting out from the beach, extending the wing floats and tapping the surface with a splash.

“Mr. Mallory,” Twilight said as the pilot approached her from the PBY’s position at the end of the pier. She returned his salute and smiled. “I trust the wing works?”

“What? Oh, yeah, it works great. Almost better than the original. It’s like magic.” He frowned. “Wait a minute…”

She laughed. “You people are never gonna get used to magic, are you? But we do have business to attend to. I’m not going to Aryaal, not yet.”

“But the Skipper wants you with those Guards of yours as soon as possible.”

“I know. But he’ll get Silva and a barrel of magic. I think he’ll need Silva more than me, at least for now.”

“If that’s the plan. They’ve probably landed by now. Tom says the battle’s about to start.”

“In which case, we need to go. Mr. Silva!”

“Are you changing your mind?”

She paused. “Yes. No. Kind of. You’re still gonna be taking this--” She patted the magic barrel next to her. “And some things I recovered from Friendship.”

Silva bounded along the beach, lugging his BAR. “You called, ma’am?”

“We have a change of plans. Are you okay with teleportation?”

Ben’s eyes widened in horror. If the gleam in Silva’s eye meant anything, he wasn’t going to let anyone forget this. He’d never hear the end of it no matter what happened now.

“If it ain’t gonna kill me, sure!” the big gunner’s mate grinned.

Twilight opened the magic barrel and scooped some of the viscous black-violet liquid into her palm. It absorbed itself into her hand, and her eyes darkened from the magic within her body. She took a deep breath to calm herself.

“It’s going to feel a little weird,” she warned. Before anyone could react, she reached up to Silva’s shoulder and closed her eyes. Silva disappeared in a flash of white and purple, jerking Twilight’s eyes open. She consulted her mage-sword’s shiny blade base. Right on target.

Matt looked around from his perch on top of a “brontosarry” the Aryaalans provided him as a token of friendship. Their liaison scanned the Grik mass ahead, directing the dinosaur’s driver to follow the Allied Expeditionary Force’s army.

He sighed and spotted around a half-dozen destroyermen who, in good Silva fashion, had decided to join the battle with their modern weapons. Tom Felts was over there, near the Fourth Baalkpan Guard with his Thompson slung over his back and his cutlass drawn. Spread along the line, he saw Andy Simms, Loris Scurrey, Gil Olivera, and Glen Carter in similar situations. There was something to be said about the guys who hung out with the likes of Dennis Silva.

Suddenly, a yelp and a splat signaled the arrival of someone familiar. Matt turned his head and was genuinely surprised at the sight of Silva himself, BAR, cutlass, and all. Speak of the devil, and he actually shows up.

“Mr. Silva, I thought you were on Menjangan with Twilight.”

“She tell-ee-ported out here ‘cause she said you’ll need me, Skipper.”

“That’s some serious range. Did she use some of the magic in one of her barrels?”

“Yessir, she did! She’ll be along shortly once all them is off the wreck. You should’a seen her, Skipper! She plumb lifted the whole thing off the bottom and carried it all the way to the beach!”

“Can’t say I’m not impressed,” Gray grumbled. Keje-Fris-Ar agreed, still panting somewhat from jogging alongside the dinosaur for a couple hundred yards.

“Well, you’re here now. You’ll be under Gray’s orders for now, but the basic idea is that you help support the line with your cutlass. Don’t use the BAR unless you absolutely have to.”

“Aye, Skipper!” Silva then jogged out to the ‘Cat battle line, where Shinya’s voice carried over the open field, calling out each regiment by name. At each call, a roar erupted from the troops.

After several minutes, Shinya finally gave the order: “At the quick time, march!”

Author's Note

There is peace, and there is war. And ne'er the two shall meet.

Chapter 35

As a single unit, the Allied Expeditionary Force advanced towards the blob of Grik assailing Aryaal’s walls. Some of them--enough to match the AEF’s four thousand in numbers, actually--turned at the sound of a horn in the distance to face the Lemurian force, but not nearly enough to do much. Most Grik continued to throw themselves at Aryaal in hopes that they might take the city.

“Archers! Cannons!” Shinya called.

The second and third lines, safely behind the front’s shield wall, prepared their longbows. Cannoneers wheeled the AEF’s six-pounder field artillery to poke their loaded barrels through temporary gaps in the shield wall.

“Fire!”

The archers loosed their arrows as the AEF disappeared in a cloud of smoke, quickly followed by the near-simultaneous thunderclap of a dozen cannons. When the smoke cleared, the Grik that had turned were writhing on the ground, their bones shattered by thousands of little copper balls--a double load of canister round from each cannon. A good number of them stood, and some reinforcements filtered in. Then a hailstorm of arrows wiped out the remaining few.

A cheer rose from the Lemurians when they saw the destruction they’d wrought. They had defeated a force as large as their own with little to no casualties. Some of the regimental flags began waving around, and Matt could sense the cohesion dropping. Before he could say anything, though, Shinya called for order. Officers and NCOs down the line repeated his commands. Eventually, total cohesion was restored.

But the Grik hadn’t been silent the whole time. While the AEF was in partial celebration, the majority of the remaining Grik army changed their focus of attack. A long horn sounded, catching Matt’s attention. The mass of Grik began to charge.

The cannons, reloaded, poked out again and blasted double canister into the mess. A lot of Grik collapsed, but it looked like for each one they killed, another three took its place. The archers, reacting to the sound of cannon, loosed again--not necessarily in their previous perfectly-choreographed fashion--while the ‘Cats on the shield wall took a defensive stance.

Despite the slight chaos, Matt was proud. The AEF hadn’t really had a chance to train as one, but the constant drill of Alden’s Marine-like training regimen had a significant effect. The ‘Cats became more proactive and reactionary at the same time, using their training and split-second decision-making skills to try to thin out the enemy force.

The Grik flailed against the shield wall, but the ‘Cats held strong. The cannoneers used brief gaps in the fight to fire a load of canister into the Grik, and the third rank loosed over the shields while the second rank speared Grik. The three ranks rotated as they could, but eventually, someone would tire.

Matt fired a flare high above the battle, signaling the Aryaalan army to attack the Grik from the rear.

Twilight watched the battle through her scrying spell, using her mage-sword’s shiny section of blade near the hilt as a mirror. It looked fine so far, but they were less than a couple hours into the fight. She saw Matt’s flare an hour ago and recognized it as a signal to someone, but having not made the plan herself, she didn’t know who was supposed to answer.

The PBY bounced around her, breaking her concentration. She looked up nervously. Nothing seemed to be damaged, although Ed Palmer’s coffee mug rattled closer to the edge of his navigator’s station.

Ed stopped the mug from dancing off the station and smiled. “Don’t worry, Princess, that’s normal. Just some crosswind. How’s the battle going?”

She stared into her sword. “Not bad, currently. The AEF’s holding the line, and the Grik are dropping like flies.”

“That’s good news. I was afraid we’d lose in the first five minutes.”

“I’m sure Matt thought of that.”

“Yeah.” Ed consulted the map spread across his station. “Looks like we’re half an hour out. Are your barrels secure?”

“Both of them,” Twilight answered without even looking. She’d decided to bring two barrels since they had the weight to spare, and it would help spread out the stuff. One of them was locked to keep her from burning through its precious magic, while the other remained unlocked for her to use as needed.

“Can you actually check, please?”

Twilight shrugged and stood. She arched her back to stretch and windmilled her arms as best she could in the confined space. Her barrels were stored near the waist gunners, mostly because of spacing issues. Checking the straps that held each in place, she ran her fingers along their rims. They seemed fine.

“As I said,” she replied, “they’re fine.”

“Sorry. You know how jumpy Ben is around magic.”

She laughed. “Well, I did blast you guys with a magic round from the three-inch gun.”

“Yeah, you did.” Ed smiled, but a tick of anxiety trickled into his voice.

“Ed, where are we?” Ben Mallory called from the cockpit.

“Sixty-two miles out,” Ed replied over the PBY’s engines, which suddenly roared for a second. Just as quickly, they cut and restarted at their normal rumble.

“That didn’t sound good,” Twilight commented.

“No, it didn’t.” Ed grabbed his mug and made his way to the cockpit. A few minutes later, he returned. “Ben doesn’t know either. Fuel is fine, and he didn’t touch the throttle. Neither did Tikker. He’ll look into it once we land.”

Twilight nodded and went back to scrying. She could see the AEF was tiring, and if the Aryaalans were supposed to help, they weren’t coming. As she watched, Matt fired a second flare.

“They’re not coming,” Matt said. He lifted his foot from the mud, briefly frowned at the state of his brand-new shoes, and looked worriedly at the two remaining full ranks. “Shinya!” he called, grabbing the Japanese officer’s arm as he ran past. Shinya's frenzied expression died when he saw the captain.

“Captain?” Shinya answered.

“We need to pull back. We’re overextended for the people we have. The barricades back there will help us.”

“It’s going to be difficult. Once the Grik see we’re retreating, they will renew their attack. Also, there’s a point along the river where we’ll need to extend the shield wall. Holding the wall is one thing. Holding it and advancing is another. While retreating…” He shrugged. “I don’t know if we’ll be able to pull it off.”

“If we don’t, we’ll end up like my mount,” Matt said, gesturing to the dead dinosaur next to him. Luckily, Silva had hosed it with his BAR without waiting for orders, preventing it from stampeding anyone. That would’ve really lost the battle.

“Just get ready. At the next flare, General.”

“Yes, Captain Reddy.”

Twilight watched as the maze of sunken Grik vessels that Aryaal’s bay had become blurred from the battle smoke ahead. Her scrying spell told her that the AEF had begun to fall apart, and despite the belated Aryaalan reinforcements starting to stream in from behind the barricades near the shoreline and field hospital, it wasn’t going to be easy. Walker was picking her way up the river to assist, and Salissa thundered her broadside over the failing Lemurian force to dig temporary trenches through the Grik.

“Ben, fly directly over the fight,” she called.

“I don’t think that’s a very good idea, Princess. From what you’ve said, we’re losing.”

She glanced at her sword again. The Fourth Baalkpan Guard had been cut off from the rest of the AEF by the river. The Second Marines and Fifth Guard, along with remnants of other regiments, formed a square by the Aryaalan wall and were trying to fight their way to the barricades, flags waving defiantly in the wind. Her regiment, the First Royals, were by the river and attempting to link with the Fourth. She felt each ‘Cat death like a dagger to her heart.

“Do it,” she repeated, blinking tears from her eyes. “Try to get a little lower.”

“If that’s what you want.”

Aryaal came closer. Ben circled once to bleed altitude and fly parallel to Salissa’s line of fire, and the PBY’s engines flared again like magic. He quickly cycled them and glanced back at Twilight, who was checking her gear one final time. Her mouth was grim with determination. Ed opened the door and held his papers down as best he could when the wind started to blow everything around.

Twilight gave a thumbs-up and dove out the plane when Salissa was directly below. She kept her wings tucked as she plummeted to earth, picking up a lot more speed than she’d bargained for. At the last second, she blasted a column of magic to clear where she was going to land near the Royals, spread her wings (with some magic strengthening), and landed. A cheer rose when they realized what was happening.

A familiar unicorn’s presence, albeit corrupted, appeared in the Grik formation. She threw aside everything between her and the other unicorn with a burst of telekinesis. Twilight gritted her teeth and prepared for the worst, but nothing could prepare her for what she saw.

Sunset Shimmer, surrounded in swirls of Nightmare Moon’s magic, was on the other side of the battlefield.

Author's Note

It's interesting times, considering the virus and all. Don't worry, though, I'm still fine. I might have a bit of extra time for writing because my university is moving to online classes for the rest of the semester (and it's spring break!), but who knows what the future will hold?

EDIT: Found a much better place to end the chapter.

Chapter 36

“Twilight Sparkle,” Sunset Shimmer frowned. “I should’ve known you’d protect such pitifully weak creatures.”

“How can you say that? Remember the Sirens? You changed for the better!” Twilight cried. She fought the tears welling up in the corner of her eyes. “This isn’t you!”

“I changed for the weaker, Twilight. Had only I realized how much Celestia was holding me back. How much you were holding me back!” Sunset sent a red bolt of crackling magical energy at Twilight, who cast a shield spell just before it hit. “I’ve seen true power, Twilight, and you can’t stop me from attaining it!”

“Nightmare Moon has corrupted you, Sunset. Remember our friendship!” Twilight dodged the second bolt before it hit where she stood, briefly noticing how the Grik kept their distance from both of them as she rolled to a loose stand.

“You’re weak, Twilight Sparkle. Will you only fight when you have the Elements of Harmony to cower behind?” Sunset sent a third bolt across the field.

This time, Twilight countered with her own, and the two collided in a bright ball of energy that burned a circle in the trampled grass. Violet flames licked the princess’s feet as she took to the sky, trailing behind her in a swirl of magic. Without stopping to think, she cast “Lightning”: a quick, easily manipulable spell based on pegasus weather magic.

Arcs of electricity rained down from a temporary cloud cover, showering Sunset in blinding white light. Twilight used the opportunity to teleport to a different angle behind Sunset without being detected.

Sunset cast “Shield” under the lightning, but she was almost too late. Smoke curled from her dark blue uniform, and her singed hair smelled crispy. Somewhat blinded, she cast “Fireball” several times at Twilight’s last known location, and for good measure, threw one behind her. A yelp of surprise and high-pitched poof confirmed her suspicions.

A few embers lit the ends of Twilight’s hair, and her own white uniform looked a little more worse for wear. She materialized a light-blue barrier in front of her--an advanced form of “Shield”, capable of protecting multiple people. It could block most ranged attacks with ease, and Twilight used the brief respite to cast "Rejuvenation".

“If I can’t save you, Sunset Shimmer, at least I can stop you from hurting others,” she called.

“You can try, Twilight Sparkle.” Sunset brandished two hand-battleaxes made of hardened magic--the preferred physicalized weapon of power-seeking unicorns. In response, Twilight unsheathed her rapiers and assumed a defensive stance.

The next few moments were a blur. Both cast “Speed Enhancement” and “Mental Acuity” simultaneously, and the magical weapons clashed and clanged faster than any non-mage could see. Their movements kicked up dust around them, creating a cloud that blocked sight anyway, but brief, bright flashes drew the attention of onlookers.

When the dust cleared, Twilight sported nearly a dozen cuts or gashes around her body, and Sunset bled from multiple piercing holes in her torso and cuts along her arms. Both of their chests heaved in exhaustion and pain.

Twilight blasted Sunset farther away with a burst of telekinesis to give herself a little time to heal. Sunset twisted her battleaxe blades to dig into the earth, slowing her down and keeping her from going as far as the spell would’ve sent her.

Fresh, healthy violet magic swirled around Twilight’s wounds, while a sickly, uncombined red-blue mix healed Sunset’s. As another contrast, Twilight looked rejuvenated by the spell, but Sunset had no such appearance. With a rejuvenation spell, however, she looked much better.

A beam of raw magic surged from Sunset’s hand. Twilight matched it with her own, then used her other hand to send a second beam with a matching magical signature. Predictably, Sunset caught it. Twilight then let herself act as a conductor, trying to short-circuit Sunset as she had with Nightmare Moon.

Sunset, however, had Nightmare Moon’s experience with the trick, and brought her hands together, combining the two independent beams into one larger beam that then rebounded off her hands. She added a standard bolt to the mix, and easily three times as much magical power as before was headed towards Twilight. A bolt slightly to the left and right finished the attack.

Twilight’s eyes widened in horror, and she dove. The combined magics flew past her to disintegrate part of the jungle across the river, just barely missing Walker’s bow, but one of the smaller bolts hit her square in the chest. Luckily, “Magic Bolt” wasn’t a very powerful spell, and at best, felt like a stallion’s kick to the gut. The wind knocked out of her, Twilight struggled to rise. A rod of solid magical energy came down from the heavens, and she instinctively teleported out of the way.

She looked where she’d been moments ago, and saw that the rod had split in three in case she rolled. There wasn't time to breathe, however: Sunset's next attack, a similar set of magical rods, was heading for her. One came right down the middle, while two others were directly to the side to crush her between them. She cast "Shield" again, recoiling as the center rod cracked her barrier, and backflipped over the other two. Her landing brought her to a crouch, which she used to launch herself forward before a fourth rod impaled her from above.

Twilight's own attacks were simple: a ray of sunshine (Princess Celestia's preferred offensive spell), followed by a couple bolts and another "Shield" to protect herself from retaliation. Sunset blocked the bolts mirrored the sunbeam back the way it came, and Twilight curled it around her with an extra dose. The resulting explosion of solar energy should've left Sunset badly burned, but she walked out of the dust with nothing beyond a couple scratches and bruises.

Twilight had thrown basically every offensive spell she knew, and they hadn't done enough. It was time for a different strategy. She wound up like a pitcher and threw a ball of magic, which Sunset simply sidestepped with a scornful look as it landed next to her. Counting on her non-reaction, Twilight set off her trap, and the terrifying image of Lord Tirek at his most powerful burst from the ground.

Not even Nightmare Moon could’ve anticipated Tirek’s appearance. Through Sunset, she beamed the image’s head. Surprisingly (at least to Nightmare Moon and Sunset), it wasn’t even fazed. It stomped, and coupled with an earth-shaker spell, convinced Nightmare Moon that staying was a bad idea. Sunset disappeared in a flash, and her presence left the battlefield.

Twilight, exhausted, dropped the hologram spell, and the image of Tirek dissipated. Her arms sagged, and her breathing came ragged.

Around her, the Grik broke, the apparent effect of Nightmare Moon’s presence gone. Combined with the “Grik Rout” theory Courtney Bradford had proposed after the capture of Revenge and Phoenix, and they didn’t stand a chance. The Allied and Aryaalan forces outside the city drove the remainder from the field.

Twilight looked back at her unit. Her timely arrival had apparently saved them and the Fourth Baalkpan Guard from complete destruction, but their losses were so significant, the number of survivors probably totaled a hundred at most. Out of the Royals’ square, Verun-Kanas came forward and saluted, her tiny hand shaking from both fear and relief.

“First Royal Guard, reporting for duty, ma’am.”

Author's Note

I was going for power, but sometimes, you need a really good fear factor.

Thing is, magic is insanely powerful. Looking at the Season 4 finale, when it was literally all alicorn magic against all other magic, this is a candle. But to everyone else, this is huge because they don't know magic like Equestrians do.

Chapter 37

Twilight’s chest heaved as she asked, “How many, Kansas?”

“Almost everyone,” the small Lemurian answered. “I think we lost every officer below me, and every senior enlisted, too. From what I can tell, our highest-ranking enlisted is a sergeant. Everyone’s wounded except me, but nothing life-threatening.”

“And the Fourth, since they’re here?”

Verun-Kanas motioned for a young recruit to come forward from the Fourth, which had, for the most part, intermingled with the Royals. That had happened mostly out of necessity when their numbers had thinned almost to the point of destruction, and it was disheartening to see: a visual reminder of how close they were. The camaraderie that had to result from such a shared desperation, on the other hand, was amazing.

Twilight’s eyes were immediately drawn to the Lemurian’s rank as he timidly approached. He only wore two chevrons and no rockers, although it was hard to see through the dirt. The look on his face told her the truth: he was wildly inexperienced for the position he’d landed in. He shakily saluted with his left arm, and Twilight glanced at his right. Her eyes widened at the amputated mess of fur and cloth, closed off by a tightly bound tourniquet.

“Corporal Louer Frat-Trak, Fourth Baalkpan Guard, ma’am,” he introduced himself. He sounded more tired than afraid.

Her suspicions confirmed, Twilight returned the salute, doing her best to not draw attention to his glaring wound. “Corporal.” She glanced around. “How’s your unit?”

“Fifty able, all wounded, ma’am. Some worse than me. I don’t know if they’ll make it to the hospital.”

“Let me see.”

Louer led her to a group of ‘Cats--around ten in total--laying on anything to keep them out of the mud. Other ‘Cats, mostly Royals with a basic understanding of Sandra Tucker’s battlefield medicine, were bandaging their wounds with dingy rags to at least keep the dirt out. As he’d said, everyone was injured to some degree, with at least one gash along the forehead or across the chest.

Twilight knelt next to one of them--a sergeant, based on her rank insignia--and brushed her hand around her wound. The sergeant’s rhino-pig leather armor had been stripped to reveal a bloody line along her gut that was too big to fully bandage. She was still alive, though, which was honestly a miracle.

Twilight closed her eyes and let magic flow into her hand. It began to glow with violet light as swirls of magic circled the wound, seeping into it. Slowly but surely, the bloody mess became the only remaining evidence. Twilight let her hand fall and looked into the Lemurian’s eyes. She looked tired. Her chest rose and fell with each breath.

Twilight moved on to the next. This one had the broken tip of a spear lodged in his armpit. Remembering her own experience during the fight for Phoenix, she carefully removed the spear tip and pressed firmly, blasting a short burst of magic into the wound to cauterize it. He didn’t scream, but he almost squirmed out of her reach.

“I’m sorry, but I need to do this, or you’ll die!” she whisper-yelled. That seemed to get him to at least calm down.

She sighed and moved on to the third, then the fourth, fifth, all the way to the tenth. Unfortunately, when she knelt beside him, he gave one final, gurgling cough and stopped moving. She felt his wrist for a pulse, but his heart had gone silent.

“I wasn’t quick enough,” she said, her voice quiet with failure. “I’m sorry.” She sighed, stood, and looked around. Lieutenant Tucker’s medical corps was still working its way over. “Let’s go to the barricade, everyone,” she called.

Slowly, the tired ‘Cats of the Royals and Fourth Guard moved. Some of them had fallen asleep against each other in little pyramids, using their comrades’ backs to stay upright. They now woke up, gathered their weapons and gear, placed the worst on makeshift stretchers, and walked shoreward, towards the remaining soldiers of the AEF and their Aryaalan allies.

A big, burly man standing guard next a bunch of ‘Cats waved from his position near the hospital tent. With a quick glance in the tent, he bounded over, hefting a BAR in his arms. A bloodied Thompson was slung over his shoulder, and what she could see of his cutlass was notched.

“Mr. Silva,” she said. “I’m glad to see you’re alive.”

“Yeah,” he replied. “They got a buncha good’uns though.”

Twilight looked up at him. “Mr. Felts?”

“Tom’s gone. Saw ‘im go down when the line broke, near the river.” The slightest tear of emotion glinted in his eye: the only time she’d ever seen him sad. The gunnery crews seemed like they’d always been extremely close. Losing some of their own would be a serious blow to the normally boisterous deck division.

“I’m so sorry. I should’ve been here sooner. I could’ve saved so many lives if I hadn’t been so focused on my damn magic!” She drove her mage-sword into the mud, radiating fury and sorrow and… she didn’t even know anymore. Around the blade, the ground dried and cracked as if she was burning the moisture out of it. After a few seconds, the fire in her eyes died, and she replaced the sword into her scabbard. Silva didn’t seem to react beyond mild curiosity.

“How’s Captain Reddy? Is he alright?”

“I think he’ll be fine, but Miz Tucker’s the one to ask.” He gestured to the hospital tent, where two Marines stood guard. “He’s in there.”

Twilight opened the tent flap, careful to not run anyone over (or be run over herself), and stepped inside. Most of Sandra’s hospital corps consisted of ‘Cats, but a couple new human faces joined them now. Neither was Karen Theimer, as the young ensign had stayed in Baalkpan to continue expanding the corps. Sandra herself was in the corner tending to a man resting in a medical cot.

“Lieutenant Tucker,” she said as she approached.

Sandra looked up from her bandaging. A light lost from her eyes seemed to reignite a little, pushing back an endless sea of blood and misery. “Twilight!”

“Don’t worry, I’m alright. There’s some Cat’s from my regiments that’ll need some help. Maybe a new arm, too.”

“Of course.” Sandra gently pressed her hand into the man’s hand and stood after she finished applying clean bandages to his wounds.

“Captain Reddy?”

Sandra gestured to the man, and Twilight finally recognized the youngish face underneath the mostly-cleared mud and dirtied uniform. “He’ll be alright. That polta paste is really a lifesaver!”

“I’ll bet.”

They exited the tent, where the Royals and Fourth were finally getting better medical treatment than they themselves could provide. A couple more awnings rose to shelter their wounded. Twilight spotted Verun-Kanas and Louer coordinating efforts for their units, and she led Sandra to them.

Sandra’s face paled when she saw Louer’s arm. “Oh my God, we need to treat that now!” She immediately called a team of ‘Cats to carry him into the main tent, where the worst injuries were. She then called a couple other teams to work through the new arrivals. “I really must go,” she said, and returned to the field hospital.

“Ma’am?” Verun asked.

Twilight sat on a particularly large rock underneath the awning. “Let’s just settle in for now and stay out of the doctors’ way. Can you see to it, Kanas?”

Verun saluted and left, leaving Twilight to gaze tiredly at the ocean of injured ‘Cats and exhausted veterans of the first big battle the war against the Grik was sure to have.

Author's Note

I hope everyone's doing fine in these quarantined times. It really is an uncertain moment in history, and how we react will define our generations.

But what isn't uncertain? That more MLD is coming soon! We're approaching another critical point, and based on the length of the doc I'm using, it's almost time for the next part of the story because I don't want to be opening a 200-page Google Doc every time I want to work on this. With Size 12 Arial font and 3 blank lines between each chapter, it's 146 pages long at the moment, and each chapter adds 2-3 pages to it.

So in the near future of this story, I'll be closing this part and opening another. Thought you guys might want a little heads-up even if it's a couple months or so out.

Chapter 38

Sunset Shimmer stood unflinching as Captain Hisashi Kurokawa fumed. He was so furious that she could light his emotional energy itself ablaze with the snap of a finger. Unlike the unfortunate others in Amagi’s bridge, she was unfazed by his rage.

“It was her,” she confirmed. “We traded blows for a time. I would have defeated her if Nightmare Moon hadn’t been terrified out of her wits by a mirage and teleported the both of us away from the battle.”

“A MIRAGE?!”

“Yes. I do not know what image she generated, but it must’ve been something powerful. A mage, perhaps, one with greater ability than Celestia herself, and the likeness of a centaur. What I do know is that it was something Nightmare Moon is familiar with, and therefore feared.”

“She is supposed to be the greatest mage on the planet, and she fears something from another world?” Kurokawa seethed.

Sunset saw that she would need to be cautious or risk another one of his explosive rants directed at an innocent bridge officer instead of her. “Likely something from her world--my world. Equestria is home to more than just magic and ponies.”

Tirek, the now-normal voice of Nightmare Moon whispered in her mind. He has the power to siphon another’s energy, to include alicorns. He was locked in Tartarus over a thousand years ago by Celestia and pitiful Luna to “protect the ponies,” but it was really to save themselves from his wrath. We could have easily destroyed him if they weren’t so weak.

Sunset relayed the information to Kurokawa, who seemed to calm somewhat at the explanation.

“Ms. Shimmer,” Commander Sato Okada asked, “is there anything else from Equestria that could threaten us?” these Elements she mentioned once?”

“The Elements of Harmony. There are six of them, as far as I know, and together, they make the power of friendship. Honesty, Loyalty, Generosity, Laughter, and Kindness.”

“That’s five.”

“The sixth is Magic. Sparkle’s Element, actually. She’s the ‘Bearer’ of Magic. However, she requires the other five to be present in order to use her Element. And given that they and their Bearers are still in Equestria, we have nothing to fear from them. Precautions would not be a terrible idea, though. Even without her Element, Twilight Sparkle is an extremely gifted Unicorn mage, and as we witnessed, crafty.”

“Is there anything she can’t do?”

“Not that I know of. She was Celestia’s prize student, after all. More so than me.”

“Then we should take it upon ourselves to find one,” Okada said. “Captain? I believe I may be well-suited to this task given my frequent…rewarding…talks with the Grik.”

“Yes, indeed,” Kurokawa mused, for once listening to his executive officer’s suggestions calmly. “Be sure to ask the next time we speak with their leaders.” He turned to face the sail-covered ocean ahead and around Amagi. “For now, we will bide our time. Their leaders cannot know the power we possess, as well as how we can acquire knowledge of distant events so quickly. We shall keep it that way. Navigation! How far is Surabaya, at this excruciatingly slow pace?”

The navigation officer, startled, frantically made marks on his map. “Captain, only three weeks’ travel, sir!”

A smile crept into Kurokawa’s face. Not a genuine, contented smile, from Sunset’s angle, but a smile nonetheless. He might even last more than fifteen minutes without screaming at his subordinates in two weeks, if the magical tendrils starting to swirl around his mind had anything to say about it.

“Gooooood.”

Author's Note

Hope you guys are alright during this mess of a month. In the meantime, have another (short) chapter!

Chapter 39

Twilight looked up from a game of “Lemurian poker” she was playing with Verun-Kanas and the other senior members of the Royals and Fourth Baalkpan Guard and smiled wanly at the man approaching them from where Walker’s sister Mahan floated by the dock where they’d unloaded the AEF. He carried himself like Captain Reddy but had a slightly stockier build and wider gait. She couldn’t see his hair under the United States Navy cap shielding his eyes from the midmorning sun, and he didn’t look too familiar. She may have seen him once somewhere.

“How can I help you?” she asked when he was a little closer.

“I’m on my way to the medical tent, but I was told to go find Colonel Sparkle. She’s somewhere around here.” He looked around. “Could you help me find her?”

Twilight blinked. “I don’t know Colonel Sparkle, but I’m familiar with the title ‘Princess.’ Are you looking for her?”

“Possibly. She commands the Royals, as far as I’m aware. Are they the same person?”

Verun laughed, earning a glare from Twilight. “They’re the same person, all right.”

Twilight sighed and looked at his uniform to identify his rank. “Lieutenant. Were you on Mahan?”

“Well, I was on Walker before we came…here. Jim Ellis, acting captain of Mahan, at your service.”

Twilight stood and dusted off her clothes. Her wings unfolded and stretched before tucking themselves back along her back. “Mr. Ellis? It’s been a while. I’m Twilight Sparkle.”

Something dawned in his eyes. “We picked you up from that sinking ship, didn’t we? I didn’t recognize you! Princess,” he hastily added, bowing awkwardly.

“Don’t bother with formalities. I never really liked the stuff.” She picked her mage swords (in their scabbards) off the ground and clipped them to her belt. They’d been unclipped so she could sit more comfortably in the game circle. “Sorry, Kansas, Mouse, Tex, Louer. You’ll have to finish without me.” She turned to Jim. “Is it the all-hands meeting Captain Reddy wants for the officers?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay then. Louer, I know you’re just a corporal, but your sergeant hasn’t recovered enough for Sandra to let her out of the tent, so you’re coming with me.”

“I’m surprised I’m not still in the hospital tent!” he replied, waving his stumpy right arm.

“Honestly, so am I. but you gotta represent the Fourth. Come on, let’s play with the big boys.”

Louer reluctantly followed, his tail anxiously flicking with every step. He’d never expected to represent his unit to the rest of the AEF--and its commanders at that! His stumpy right arm, cleaned as it was, still had tangles of cloth from his destroyed uniform dangling from where a Grik had bitten it clean off. He’d saved Sergeant Kyhr Al-Khaf from being lost to the horde, though, and she was luckily healing in the tent.

They approached the hospital tent, where Matt was expected to be. One of the two Marines guarding it was Chack, who smiled tiredly.

“Is Captain Reddy in there?” Jim asked.

“No. He’s over by the pier,” Chack replied in near-perfect English.

“They carried him there?” Twilight asked, surprised. “He was worse off than a lot of guys still healing.”

Chack blinked. “He walked, Princess.”

Twilight, Jim, and Louer joined the rest of the officers and remaining leaders of the AEF by the pier next to the river. Larry Dowden was currently conning Walker back down to the bay, so he wasn’t there, but Spanky McFarlane, Chief Gray, Matt, Keje-Fris-Ar, Adar, the other ship captains and regiment commanders, and the two leaders of the Aryaalan reinforcements were.

Matt smiled from his seat as they approached with Chack, while Sandra clearly disapproved of his moving the meeting.

“Sorry, Skipper, I had to check a couple things on my ship--I mean Mahan. Picked up Twilight on the way over,” Jim said.

“No need to worry, Jim, Mahan is your ship,” Matt replied. He nodded to Twilight. “Princess. It’s good to see you in one piece.”

“The same could be said for you, Captain.” Twilight’s face darkened for a second, but it brightened again. “Phoenix is currently retrieving the containers off Friendship. I brought two with me, which Mr. Mallory took to Baalkpan yesterday morning.”

“Very well. I’m glad to know it won’t fall into Grik hands anytime soon.”

Just then, a grizzled Lemurian covered in stripes of lighter fur pushed his way to stand in front of Matt. His dented helmet lacked a feather plume, and he hadn’t seemed to refresh himself since the battle, unlike the other younger female Lemurian leader. He drew his battered sword.

Instantly, Twilight’s hands glowed purple and Gray’s pistol was pointed at him. Several destroyermen also racked their bolts in response while everyone else stood silent, shocked. The cat, unfazed, kept his eyes on Matt and laid his sword on the ground at Matt’s feet.

“My sword, my life, my honor--which is all that I am--is yours,” he said in a deliberate monotone.

Adar hurried to him and knelt at his side and whispered something like asking for confirmation.

“It is not a gesture, Priest! I gave my word, and it was broken. I am nothing without my word!”

Twilight relaxed and partly drew her own sword to scry through the shiny end near the hilt while Matt, Adar, and the Lemurian settled whatever was going on. Phoenix’s crew was working undisturbed, and were just about ready to depart. Out over the western ocean, a really big storm was brewing and slowly making its way over to Aryaal and Baalkpan. It would arrive in a week or two. She couldn’t find Sunset, though, her former student masked by a blanket of Nightmare Moon’s magic covering the entire northwest frontier.

She looked up just as Matt said, “I guess we won.”

Everyone cheered for several minutes as word of what he said spread through the army.

“We’ve won and I’ve heard how all of you distinguished yourselves. I’m proud of all of you, and I mourn the sacrifices of everyone here and those who fell. It was costly, and you have my apology for that.” Some people protested his acceptance of responsibility for their losses. Twilight understood, though. Princess Celestia had occasionally taken responsibility for losses inflicted, especially during the original campaign against Sombra over a thousand years ago.

Matt continued: “Almost four in ten of our brave soldiers, sailors, warriors, and Marines who began that battle were killed or seriously injured. Some of them so much so that they’re out of this campaign, at least.” He looked at the younger Lemurian leader who’d come out of Aryaal during the battle. “Her Gracious Highness, Queen Protector Maraan of B’mbaado told me her losses were similar. I imagine the same is true for those who followed Lord Rolak. We cannot doubt their courage and honor. They didn’t betray us, but King Fet-Alcas, still safe behind the walls we preserved for him.”

Twilight nodded grimly. She’d seen from the air how Queen Maraan and Lord Rolak had led their troops against the Grik to bolster the failing AEF as the Grik finally overran their retreat. To say they had courage was an understatement.

“But let’s put that aside for now. I believe Her Highness has an announcement to make.” Matt nodded at Adar, who whispered something to the queen. She stepped forward, her cleaned cape flowing briskly behind her.

“B’mbaado is proud, grateful, to have fought beside such warriors as yourselves. Never has such a battle happened, and never have warriors achieved so much against such odds,” she began in a husky, self-assured voice. “B’mbaado is warlike. We war often with Aryaal or other nations along the coast, so fighting is not strange to us. But we are unfamiliar with this war. The Grik are Evil. They cannot be called People. We do not even know what they fight for. Territory, perhaps?” She sighed. “When they came, we were faced with a war we did not want, were not prepared for, and could not win. We even tried to ally with our most bitter rival, Aryaal, to stand a chance. But we knew we could not win. It was only a matter of time, and I brought my Six Hundred to delay the day B’mbaado fell as long as possible.” She turned to Matt.

“But then you came. Not for loot or conquest or concessions. You came to help! Sea folk, here for our sake,” she exclaimed. She nodded to Jim. “The other iron ship had been here for some time and we knew it was powerful, but neither of our peoples had use for it once we knew it would not help one side or the other. And it was so badly damaged I expected to see it had sunk at dawn every day. When the Grik came, it tried to help, but it could not move, and it used its power to keep a passage clear between Aryaal and my home. For that, I thank you, Cap-tan El-liss.”

“And then you came with another iron ship and the great Homes of the sea folk, and you erased the Grik from the bay! It was the greatest thing I ever saw. Surely, if not for Fet-Alcas’s treachery, the land battle would have been just as one-sided and complete should our powers remain of the physical world.”

“And then, as the Grik continued to resist our attacks, you came down from the sky!” she said, turning now to Twilight. “You used power beyond even the iron ships and fought with a resolve that even I must envy. From what I have heard, you battled and defeated someone of similar powers as yours who was aiding the Grik and keeping them from breaking, and for that, you have my thanks, and that of B’mbaado. Without you, the battle would surely have been lost.”

Twilight nodded acknowledgement and gave a small, hurt smile. Sunset was her friend. It should not have come to this.

“I have come to realize that the war you fight to destroy the Grik is not just a war of honor, as we’ve fought before, but an honorable war--and one we must be part of. Until the end.” She blinked resolve and determination.

“I, Safir Maraan, Queen Protector of the People of B’mbaado, beg you will accept my nation and my warriors into your Grand Alliance to destroy the Grik menace once and forever.”

There were appreciative howls and cheers, and the humans that could clapped. Matt watched as the queen bowed formally and managed a smile. The ramifications of such a union ran through his mind, however, since the B’mbaadans were considerable warriors in their own right.

Queen Maraan, knowing he would ask, answered for him. “I was, of course, impressed by the skill and courage with which you fought. As an ally, might I presume you will teach us these skills of war?”

“Certainly, Your Highness,” Matt replied when Adar translated. “I’m sure we can arrange something. Lieutenant Shinya?”

“Yes, sir?” the Japanese officer asked.

“See to it. Set up something abbreviated, or try to integrate them into our existing regiments if they’re willing. God knows we need the replacements.” Noticing how Maraan staring at Chack with interested speculation, he added, “Use Chack as your liaison. If you want him the Second Marines, let him keep them. That’d be a good outfit to work their officers up in.”

“My thoughts exactly, Captain.”

Matt looked at the battle line commanders and Twilight before addressing them. “You are all heads of state in this alliance, with equal say in the matter. Do any of you object?” There was only respectful silence. “Good.” He turned to Maraan. “Your Highness, as commander of the Allied Expeditionary Force, it is my honor to accept your nation into our alliance on behalf of its other members, with my gratitude.” He took a breath while the cheering subsided. “Lord Rolak.”

The Aryaalan quickly knelt before Matt. “Yes, Lord?”

Matt then had Adar explain to Rolak that he would rather have him fight alongside as friends, not slaves or vassals. He knelt to Rolak’s level and extended his hand. After an explanation, Rolak took it, and was a little surprised when Matt pumped it up and down.

Sandra and Shinya helped Matt back to his stool where he sat again. It was good as he was going to get it for now. The alliance had grown more.

Author's Note

Writer's block sucks, doesn't it? Summer school starts tomorrow, so I don't expect to get too much out for a while. I might be able to manage, though, so stay tuned.

Chapter 40

As the meeting came to a close, Matt asked, “Is there anything else we should discuss while everyone’s still here?”

Twilight partially raised her hand.

“Yes, Princess?”

I would like to merge the Fourth Baalkpan Guard with my Royals. I’ve been discussing this with Acting CO Corporal Louer Frat-Trak here, the others within his unit, and my own Major Verun-Kanas, and we believe that it would be beneficial.”

“The remaining members of the Fourth would need to complete the same specialized training you gave your unit. Can you spare the time?” Matt sighed. “I’m not saying no, I just...folding units is not something I thought we’d have to do this early on.”

Louer’s ears pricked. “If I may speak, Cap-tan Reddy,” he began in slow, careful English, his tail flickering nervously, “I would surely have been dead long before the Princess arrived if not for the Royals. Many of my peers in both units can say the same. They are tight-nit and highly skilled. We want to learn their techniques, and they want us to join them.”

Matt frowned in thought and bobbed his head a little. “What’s your plan? How will you do it?”

Twilight paused to recall their discussions since the battle. “Corporal Louer will be promoted to Guard Captain and serve as third-in-command, after me and Guard Captain Verun-Kanas, who we’ll be promoting to Lieutenant of the Guard. Converting to American ranks, Louer will be a lieutenant colonel and Verun a full colonel.”

“Remind me of the Royal Guard rank structure, please.”

“Sure.” Twilight took a moment to think. “Top of the structure is Captain of the Guard--that’s what Shining Armor was. His second-in-command is the Lieutenant of the Guard, followed by the Guard Captains--confusing, I know--then the Guard Lieutenants, and then the enlisted guard ranks: Sergeant Chiefs--we just call them Chiefs--then Sergeants, Corporals, and Privates. We don’t have as many ranks as you, but we didn’t have as many people, either.”

“So Captain of the Guard is equivalent to General?”

“Yes. General Alden should still outrank me, and you should, too, as the overall commander of the AEF. We can move things around if it still doesn’t work out.”

Matt sighed. “It’s going to be a mess for a while, and I’d rather not have a general leading a regiment. It just doesn’t fit.”

“I understand. In that case, we can bring Captain of the Guard down to be equivalent to Colonel and convert from there.”

“Well.” He stood up from his stool, much to Sandra’s chagrin. “You have a plan. We’ll send Alden word that he’s being promoted to General--which he won’t like, but will have to deal with--and you can reorganize your two units into one. Anything else?” He glanced around at the others present. “No? Alright then. I’ll be on Walker if anyone needs me. Dismissed, all.”

Sunset Shimmer stood at parade rest on the port bridgewing aboard Amagi with her eyes closed, feeling the wind chill her face and bow her hair behind her. Even with Nightmare Moon controlling her, some small part in the back of her mind fought back, encouraged by Twilight Sparkle’s protests at Surabaya. It currently controlled most of her feelings for the moment, but when Nightmare Moon redirected her attention to it, it would disappear, sometimes for hours at a time. Sunset despised those hours. It seemed the only time she could be truly at peace with the world was when it was around to guide her thoughts.

She still felt resentment towards Twilight and Celestia, but it wasn’t fueled by Nightmare Moon’s contempt, and as such, bothered her less. She tried to ignore it and the simmering, bubbling anger that usually followed. The wind in her face, the clangs and bells of at least some sort of civilization, and the salty smell of the open ocean were more than enough to keep her occupied.

“Well, it seems you’re feistier than I thought,” Nightmare Moon hissed, appearing next to her with a poof.

“Is that a problem?” Sunset asked with a twinge of frustration. “I like the ocean. It’s quite beautiful, especially at sundown.” She opened her eyes and walked to the rail, staring tiredly at the oranges, reds, and yellows of the sunset. The sun’s reflection rippled along the ocean surface with the waves. Thankfully, the red-sailed brigs and frigates of the lizard-like Grik had not blocked her view, somehow recognizing that she wanted to see the uninterrupted horizon that night.

“More than you’d think.” Nightmare Moon leaned against the rail next to Sunset. “It’s quite difficult to keep a grip when you resist at every opportunity. Even more so than Luna, Harmony damn it.” She snarled. “It might actually do you some good to afford you some breathing room when we’re not doing anything, but remember whom you serve, Sunset Shimmer.”

“It’s not hard when you take over my brain every three hours.”

“Brat.”

“Parasite.”

Nightmare Moon growled. “Enjoy the sunset while you can, foal.” She stood straight and turned to look into the bridge. “These humans are pitifully weak against magic. It wouldn’t take much to wipe their entire civilization from existence.”

“Then why don’t you?”

“Because I need them, and I need you, too. I’ll see you in the morning.” With that, she disappeared in a starry, midnight-black cloud of smoke.

Author's Note

A little slower, but I gotta work out the kinks of rank conversion sometime.

Chapter 41

Twilight looked over her troops, both old and new, and smiled. Louer and Verun-Kanas had done an excellent job merging their respective units, and with most of the administrative work out of the way, they had moved from the awkward introductory phase and began bringing the former Fourth Baalkpan Guard up to speed with the Royals.

It was still quite the hit from the battle, though. The final toll had left many of their wounded out of action for at least the remainder of the campaign, so the combined force could still only field about two-thirds of its strength, and the wounded would bring that up to three-quarters. Louer had to fight to stay because of his amputated arm.

“Oh, Celestia,” she whispered, “I wish you were here to see this.”

A sudden loud splash jolted her out of her reverie and drew her attention to Walker and Mahan, which weren’t too far away. Some of the water was still coming down, and those on Mahan’s stern got absolutely soaked. The Walkers seemed to be enjoying it, though.

She watched Spanky McFarlane drop a second grenade into the space between the two ships, and this time, everyone took cover as water splooshed up and onto the decks. Whatever the purpose was, it didn’t seem to work, as she saw several of the men’s look disappointed.

She turned back to face her unit. They were tired and panting, but they were hers, and they were good. They’d also spent practically the whole morning training, and she could tell they were getting hungry. Some sat down as their aching legs, worked hard nearly every day after the battle, started to give out a little. It was time to call them in.

“Royals, atten-hut!” she called, her hands clasped behind her back.

The ‘Cats scrambled to their feet and stood at attention, their weapons held in the correct position and their legs and backs erect. They stared straight ahead in near-perfect formation, but she knew their eyes looked up at her.

“At ease.” They relaxed a little. “You all have been doing phenomenal lately, especially with the integration and all. I’m proud of you. All of you. You’ve earned the afternoon off, but remember: we’re back here in the morning.” She glanced to her officers and smiled. “Dismissed!”

As the Royals walked to their part of the camp outside Aryaal, Louer and Verun approached her, seemingly excited about something. They chatted back and forth quickly enough that she had a hard time following their conversation, but when they were close enough, they stopped and smiled at her.

“What’d I miss?” Twilight asked, genuinely confused.

“Okay, ma’am, so you know how you want to equip everyone in our unit with magic weapons?” Verun asked.

“Yes, go on.”

“You mentioned using them like Waa-kur’s little guns that the hoo-maans carry, but the battle made me wonder if we can make magic explode like their ‘gren-aades’.”

“You want me to make magic grenades.”

“Almost!” Louer said excitedly. “What if we could make them and then throw them at the Grik with a gun?”

“Like a cannon.”

“Yes, but you can hold it in your hands.”

Twilight held up a hand. “Let me get this straight. You’re suggesting that I figure out how to make handheld cannons that shoot magic grenades.”

“Yes!” both Lemurians said at the same time.

“I’ll look into it, but it’s going to take a while. For now, we’ll focus on the rifles. Anything else?”

The two shook their heads.

“Alright then. Go get some rest. Harmony knows you’re gonna need it.”

With everything seemingly taken care of for the day, she sat down on the dirt She used her mage-sword as a scrying mirror to check on Phoenix’s progress again, then went looking for Revenge, which had sailed into the open Java Sea to scout their next target, Singapore, as well as act as an advance warning in case the Grik showed up early.

It didn’t take much to find Revenge. The former Grik Indiaman, captained by Rick Tolson with Kas-Ra-Ar (one of Keje’s relatives) as his exec and crewed entirely by Lemurians, the ship had been repainted to Matt’s preferred color scheme and so was pretty easy to spot once her spell was in the area. They seemed to be doing well, although the swells seemed to be increasing to stormy heights despite the clear skies. She’d tell Matt once she boarded Walker in the evening for the day’s report.

Her scrying done, she reached out and teleported her backpack--freshly made in Baalkpan and ferried down by Ben that morning--over from her quarters and opened it. All of her (smaller) magical experiments were accounted for. She set out one of the blueprints on the ground, placed various parts in their respective places on it, and doubled-checked her backpack for anything she might have missed.

Satisfied, she closed her eyes and let magic flow from her fingers into the space above her lap, feeling the air around her tingle with energy as she worked. Slowly but surely, the violet-black swirls hardened into a physical form, which she placed into a hologram blueprint in front of her.

It was time to assemble her rifle.

Author's Note

Yes, I thought of magic-powered grenade launchers. A bit short and slow of a chapter, but we're closing in.

Also, sorry about the wait. You all know how life is.

Chapter 42

“What are you doing, Miss Shimmer?”

Sunset growled at the interruption, but caught her anger boiling and sighed. “I asked to be left alone, Commander Okada.”

“I was sent by Captain Kurokawa, Miss Shimmer.”

Sunset exhaled. “Very well.” She paused a moment to collect her thoughts. “Twilight Sparkle is an intelligent Unicorn and an excellent magician. To defeat her, I must be prepared--she is a difficult adversary, even outside her element. And so, I’ve procured one of your large projectiles to experiment on.”

“The Captain did tell me you required one of our ten-inch shells, specifically a high-explosive one.”

She smirked. “He didn’t tell you why, did he?”

“No. He uncharacteristically said that you would be better at explaining your own motives.”

“‘Shield’ is an effective spell to protect oneself or others,” Sunset said. She opened her eyes and stood. Around her, the busy machinery and open decks of Amagi’s stern filled her sight. Turning around, she saw Okada in the shadow of the superfiring stern guns (where one turret was placed slightly higher so it could fire “over” the other), attended by a young ensign. “And there are two ways to defeat it. You can either go around it, as I have already tried, or you can go through it.”

“You expect to use Amagi to do your magic for you?”

Sunset laughed. It was a cackling laugh reminiscent of Nightmare Moon’s own, and she saw it raise the hairs on the back of Okada’s neck. “Not at all! I expect Amagi to use the magic I provide. Do you know what a shieldbreaker is, Commander?”

Okada seemed confused by the question, but he quickly recovered. “I’m afraid not, Miss Shimmer, but it sounds fairly obvious.”

“You’re right, it’s exactly what it sounds like.” Her eyes narrowed, and she glared at the shell. “It’s also extremely difficult. Shieldbreaker spells are best when applied to a projectile of sorts--at least that’s what the history books say. So I will work to ensure that when we encounter the American destroyer, Twilight Sparkle’s spells will do nothing, and with her magic out of the equation, our targeting only needs to get close enough to do damage.”

“And you are certain that this ‘shieldbreaker’ will work?”

“Yes. If it doesn’t, simply shoot another. I intend to spell most if not all of your projectiles. With Nightmare Moon’s help, the forward magazine should be done by the time we reach Surabaya.”

“I suppose it is a necessity,” Okada conceded. “Are you willing to pause your efforts for a short while? I have a few questions regarding your interactions with our other…guest.”

Sunset briefly checked her mage-battleaxe, similar to the rapiers Twilight Sparkle had produced at Surabaya, and nodded. “What do you need?”

Give him nothing, Nightmare Moon hissed in her mind. The American has nothing of value. He is a wretched, broken form of a creature, and he--

SHUT UP! Sunset internally screamed. Get out of my head, and let me decide what to say. Any information we can gather and interpret could actually help us defeat Twilight Sparkle better than your half-baked plans!

Very well, but remember whom you serve! Nightmare Moon’s presence left her mind, and the temporary void made her dizzy for a second as her own mind rushed to fill it.

She shook her head and realized Okada had already asked something. “I’m sorry, could you repeat that?”

“I said, ‘How long were you with him?’”

“I can’t give you a specific time, but probably no longer than a couple months.”

“Did your magic seem to…heal him?”

“I don’t really know.”

“When did you discover you could still use magic?”

“We reached Madras. I was on the upper deck with him, not blindfolded for once, and I could see the city. I realized I still had magic when I somehow healed my own leg.” Sunset lifted her pant leg to reveal a long, light scar. “I don’t know if it really means anything.”

“Do you know why he collapsed when Nightmare Moon first…used her magic on you?”

“I imagine that his strength relied on my magic. I don’t know how it could’ve happened, but perhaps there’s a link on the subconscious level. Non-Unicorns can use magic on occasion, but it’s very rare. They often require a Unicorn or even an Alicorn to channel the power, but an artifact could work as well. As I said, however, it’s beyond rare.”

Okada held his breath for a moment, then turned to the young man a step behind him on his left. “Ensign, please inform Captain Kurokawa that I will be here with Miss Shimmer for a while longer if he requests my presence. I wish to observe her magic,” he said quietly. The ensign bowed and gratefully left.

Sunset glanced at her hand and lit a small fire on her fingertip. “There isn’t much to observe, Commander.”

“I wish to learn, Miss Shimmer, not impede. A tool that I do not understand is a tool that can be used against me.”

“Suit yourself.” She sat back down on the deck, closed her eyes, and let her magic flow into the naval shell. Its grooves and fins seemed to really like her presence, but the chemicals within felt agitated, angry. They felt like they would explode with just the slightest provocation, and of course they were the subject of her spell.

Sunset carefully worked her way into the chemicals. Magic could be explosive by itself, as her fuzzy memories told her, and adding it to an already-volatile mixture of crudely refined chemicals could be deadly, with catastrophic results. One of the materials in particular, a crystal, shook when she touched it, and she almost didn’t get it back under control.

“Are you alright?” Okada’s voice penetrated into her mind and startled her, nearly destroying her concentration. “You look quite pale.”

“I’m alright. Just a little shaken. It’s all under control. Please don’t startle me, or what’s left of us will feed the fish.”

After that scare, she stayed as far away from that stuff as she could. The other main material was quite friendly--and familiar for some reason. It felt almost completely inert to her magic.

Which made it perfect as a spellbinding agent. The more reactive a material was to magic, the more likely it would react, destroying the spell and material in the process. In order for her shieldbreaker spell to successfully break through Twilight Sparkle’s shield spell, the two spells had to come into direct contact. The shell itself was too exposed--her shieldbreaker would be ripped off by air resistance alone. So the payload would have to do, and finding that part of it was excellent for spellbinding felt like a Christmas present.

She carefully bound her shieldbreaker to the nonreactive chemical and made a mental note of the concentrations of each material in the shell. Luckily, a loose “blanket” spellbind would be more than enough to turn the high-explosive shell into a weapon of magic destruction.

When she finished, she opened her eyes and smiled at Okada.

“One down, a bunch to go.”

Author's Note

For the record, the stuff inside an HE shell at the time were probably a mixture of TNT, ammonium nitrate, and small amounts of other fills (all of which would be bad for your health). The ammonium nitrate, being quite full of oxygen, is what reacted badly to Sunset's meddling. The TNT is, by comparison, much friendlier since it's oxygen-deficient.

And although the real-world Amagi's class designs and specifications call for ten 16-inch guns, she canonically has 10-inchers in Destroyermen, so that's what I'm rolling with.

Also, had to figure out some more stuff and prep for Neracca.

Chapter 43

Twilight stepped aboard Walker with a completed rifle in her hand and backpack slung over her shoulder, tired but satisfied. It had taken much longer than she’d initially predicted to fully assemble the entirely hard-magic weapon, and she’d spent practically the entire night in deep concentration.

She saluted a distracted, hasty side party and the flag as she gained a footing on the slightly moving deck and smiled. “Good morning, San…” Her voice trailed. Sandra Tucker and Courtney Bradford glanced over at her from a circle of destroyermen. On the other side, Matt’s tall figure stood out over the crowd. She approached the group.

“What’s going on?” she asked, quieter.

Sandra said nothing, but she gestured through the ring. Two ‘Cats--Aryaalan ‘Cats--sat hostled on the deck, menaced by Mr. Silva’s pistol and Mr. Lanier’s fishing pole. Captain Reddy paced the deck, his anger boiling as he stopped to run his hand along the blackened rail. With a small spell, Twilight could see tendrils of painful, angry red magic radiating from his heart.

“Captain,” Larry Dowden said carefully, “Radioman Clancy says the radio’s been rewired. Lieutenant Mallory requests permission to fly around and search for Revenge.”

Matt said nothing for several long seconds. Eventually, he nodded slightly. “Very well.”

“Aye, sir. You said you wanted to begin work on the screw this morning?”

Matt glanced around, seemingly surprised. He saw the crew, Sandra, and Courtney gathered around.

“Right. I guess we’re all a little distracted. Have Spanky and the Bosun light a fire under those repairs. They have their own duties to attend.” He noticed Twilight with her dark violet rifle and concern in her eyes, meeting her gaze and holding it for a few moments. “I’ll take care of this one.”

“What’re we doin’ with these two, Skipper?” Silva asked.

“We don’t even need to try them. They’ve admitted they’re enemy saboteurs under orders of their king. But they’re without uniforms or even the courtesy of a declaration of war.” A fire burned in his eyes. “Hang them.”

With their captain’s orders given, most of the crew began to disperse. Silva volunteered to “take care” of the two prisoners with Lanier and those from the gunnery crews who weren’t already busy. Sandra sighed, and Courtney wrote some notes in his notebook. It was only once they were alone when Twilight finally worked up the courage to talk to him.

“Captain Reddy,” she began cautiously, “I think I’ve figured out hard-magic small arms.”

Some of his anger dissipated, but he still simmered. “Then we’ll give them a field test against anyone who wants to defend that little son of a bitch calling himself king.”

“Captain, Equestria is not in conflict with Aryaal.”

“But you work with us, do you not?”

Twilight paused. She had to tread carefully. “I do. But going forward like this could be a dealbreaker to Princess Celestia. To me. You need to calm down before you make a mistake!”

“This is a mistake? Princess, do you even know what happened? Those two and their friends tried to blow up my ship with a cannon they’d stuffed to the brim and surrounded with gunpowder. Harvey Donaghey died trying to get it as far away as possible. They attacked us suddenly and deliberately without a declaration of war just like the Japs at Pearl!” With each word, Matt’s voice grew in intensity until it practically dwarfed her resolve.

Donaghey? No… Her stance changed. “Captain, there’s a storm coming. A big storm. It’s going to hit us tomorrow morning. If you think you can do this before nightfall, go ahead. Otherwise, we need to wait until it passes.”

“And if we wait?”

“As you know, I’ve been scrying the sea surrounding the island for threats, but I can’t get much farther northwest than the coast of Borneo. Something’s blocking me, and it’s getting closer by the day. If we wait until the storm passes, it could be on top of us by the time we recover.”

“You’re saying that we’re out of time?”

“Yes. If you’re going to take Aryaal, you have to do it before nightfall, or King Alcas is going to be the least of your concerns.”

“I’ll take that into consideration, Princess. Anything else?”

“Not unless you want the Royals.”

“They’re yours. I won’t use them without you.”

Twilight’s skin darkened, and she tapped her new rifle on the deck. “Then I’ll see you at the gates.”

Dear Princess Celestia,

I know that most of my messages are questions about magic and how it might work outside Equestria, and this one is no different. Earlier this morning, I watched as Captain Reddy stood over two prisoners captured during an attempted sabotage of Walker. He was…radiating magic, likely fueled by some kind of emotional turmoil. I could clearly see the anger and pain in his heart, but I couldn’t tell from where it came.

Is there precedence for this? I’ve never heard of someone having magic in this way. Even my friends at CHS had some connection to magic before I met them, through their counterparts in Equestria, and just didn’t know it. But Captain Reddy has no connection to magic whatsoever. What could be causing this? I’ve used this spell previously and never saw it until now.

Also, I’ve been using your scrying spell for some time, and I think I’ve run into a roadblock of sorts. Something is preventing me from seeing beyond a certain range in a particular direction, and only that direction. Are there counterspells I’m unaware of?

Your faithful student,

Twilight Sparkle

Dear Twilight Sparkle,

No, I have not heard of such events. You are the first pony in history to witness this kind of magic. From your letters, I presume that Captain Reddy is unaware of this development, and I urge you to research its effects before revealing it to him. Perhaps it is a sort of descent into madness (although I certainly hope that this is not the case). More likely, it is a result of interacting with you and Equestria magic. Watch it closely. I do not know what will happen.

And yes, there are counters to my scrying spell, but only a Unicorn of sufficient power and skill can accomplish this. I leave these counterspells open to the public because they act as a warning, since blocking my view of an area will alert me to potential threats there.

Whatever is blocking your spell there, it is dangerous. Take care, my student.

Princess Celestia

Author's Note

Although this and the last chapter are quite short and seemingly nothing happens, I do love the little snippets of potential I can write in preparation of potential future plot elements. It's quite nice being able to sit back and have some chill chapters.

Chapter 44

Twilight stepped slightly out of formation to check over the Royals again, taking care to keep her new hard-magic rifle in hand. They stood behind Chack and the Second Marine Regiment, who stood ready to blast Aryaal’s gates with a pair of field cannons and attack. Once the Marines had established a perimeter, the Royals would follow them and help push to the palace where Fet-Alcas ruled. As far as Twilight was concerned, it was a decent plan.

“Why are we attacking Aryaal?” Verun-Kanas asked. “They are our allies, are they not? This is not right.”

Twilight sighed. “They tried to blow the side off Walker’s hull. We lost a good man to the explosion, but he saved her.” She shifted her rifle’s weight to her other arm. “Just be ready for the order.”

“Yes, ma’am,” the conflicted ‘Cat said. She turned to Louer and repeated Twilight’s words.

Twilight took the opportunity to check her scrying spell’s range again. Whatever blocked her was quite a bit closer than the day before, and Revenge was nearly farther than she could scry. By afternoon, Rick Tolson and his crew would be completely on their own.

Glancing back up, she saw Matt beckon her over from his position near the front of the Marines. He and several destroyermen burned to be the spearhead, and nobody was going to stop them. She approached him, acknowledged Keje-Fris-Ar and Adar, and sighed.

“We’re ready, Captain,” she reported.

Sandra Tucker glared at her. The nurse was clearly not happy with Matt, but she knew couldn’t stop him. She’d resigned to securing his injured arm as tightly to his body as she could, and she stood back alongside Courtney Bradford, out of the way of the coming attack.

“This is madness!” Adar exclaimed. “Surely the Grik are a greater threat. You are only wasting lives in a side scuffle!”

“This ‘side scuffle’ is to keep our supply lines secure!” Matt snarled. “If we don’t deal with that rat hiding in his palace, our supplies could be in danger, and I’m not letting that happen. Our flank would be exposed, our supplies cut, and then the Grik come smashing down on a weakened, starving army and steamroll past us all the way to Baalkpan! Give me one good reason to allow that!”

Twilight grimaced and used her sword as a scrying mirror for the upteenth time, keeping an ear open. This time, she didn’t feel resistance and static to the west. The block was gone. Her eyes widened, and she quickly scanned the area for anything, anything that might have been hiding where she couldn’t see.

A massive Grik fleet, hundreds of red-hulled ships with their white sails full with the wind. From the waves, the wind was in their favor--and would be for a good few hours at least. A couple ships were larger than the others, and she assumed they were a kind of flagship.

Near the back of the formation, a huge steel-hulled vessel a little smaller than a Home of the Sea steamed, black clouds of coal smoke billowing from its two large funnels. The main turrets were trained for and aft, and its numerous secondaries pointed directly to port and starboard. Its pagoda-like superstructure stood proud and strong in front of a tall tripod mast (separated by the funnels), atop with its flag flowed freely in the wind. Slightly offset from the center of that flag was a massive red circle with red rays extending to the edge of its white field.

Twilight quickly ended her scrying and slammed her sword into its sheath. “Captain,” she said insistently.

“Yes?” Matt seemed to only respond out of courtesy. Around him, Keje, Adar, and the other leaders had started coordinating an attack by the entire Allied Expeditionary Force, a discussion which she’d mostly missed.

“Whoever was blocking my scrying stopped, and it looks bad. The Grik are getting close and in huge numbers. Four hundred ships, minimum, to the northwest.”

“We’re out of time?”

“The storm I’ve been seeing should give us a couple days’ leeway, but yeah. They’ll be on top of us in maybe a week and a half at most. And they have a really big ship.”

“How big?”

“From what I saw, noticeably smaller than Salissa, but it was still the biggest steel ship I’ve ever seen. Pagoda superstructure, Japanese naval ensign, and main-battery turrets that have to be the size of Walker’s amidships platform. Looked like twin barrels.”

Matt stopped. “Amagi?”

“I guess. I don’t know what we’re dealing with here.”

“I think we just lost the war. Where’s Revenge?”

“Sailing right towards them, but the storm might blow Mr. Tolson past them.”

“Right. This changes things. When does the storm hit?”

“Now that I’ve gotten a better look, I can say with confidence that it’ll hit us around three in the morning tonight. It’s moving fast for a storm.”

Lieutenant Shinya raised his hand a little. “Captain, if I may, I would recommend that Princess Twilight and her Royals begin coordinating evacuating B’mbaado with Queen Maraan, and once we secure Aryaal, we can join in the efforts.”

“Yes. Perfect. Twilight, fall the Royals out of formation. Queen Maraan, if you wouldn’t mind? Everyone.”

Maraan bowed. “Of course. We will begin immediately. I am eternally grateful for your help in preserving us.”

Twilight nodded, spun on her heels, and ran back to Verun and Louer. “Change of plans. We’re going to help Queen Maraan evacuate B’mbaado while the others secure Aryaal.”

Verun blinked surprise. “But ma’am, how are we going to do that? B’mbaado is a city with thousands of people!”

Queen Maraan hurried over, escorted by her large bodyguard.

“Humfra-Dar,” Twilight said. “Since Fristar is already gone with most of the casualties, I want to start loading into her. As many people as you can manage, Queen Maraan. Bring nothing but the bare essentials. The more people we can fit, the more we can save.”

“How fast were the Grik going?” Maraan asked.

“No faster than eight knots, probably. Something tells me they had to stop for extra supplies to weather the storm, which means they lost time. If they hadn’t, they’d be a lot closer. Maybe even a week closer.”

“I see.”

“Verun, have them fall out.” Twilight turned to Maraan as Verun-Kanas obeyed her order. “You should tell your people. Make an announcement. I’ll get with Geran-Eras to start the process. I’d like to get her underway before the storm hits--she’s big enough to be relatively stable in heavy seas. Understood?”

“Yes,” Safir Maraan sighed. A tear ran down her eye as the implications of the evacuation started to hit her. “I understand, Princess.”

Author's Note

This is it. I may skip ahead a few days to speed things up, but this is the home stretch.

Chapter 45

Twilight blinked a few tears away as she watched the far stretches of B’mbaado burn furiously with pillars of smoke blackening out the night sky above. Queen Maraan’s people, carrying nothing but the clothes on their backs and anything they could fit into their carry-bags, hurried in huge lines to the docks where Humfra-Dar and Aracca floated.

“You said only Humfra-Dar,” Maraan commented.

“Aracca will take anyone who can’t fit on Humfra-Dar and the Royals. We’ll try to get some of your troops on there too. She won’t be sailing until after the storm blows over, though, so we can load her with some more troops from the AEF after the fight for Aryaal is done,” Twilight replied. She glanced over to the Lemurian city, also burning. “Doesn’t look like it took much fighting.”

“Indeed.” Maraan comfortingly patted a ‘Cat on the shoulder as he passed by on his way to the ships. “Perhaps we can save our culture, too.”

“Aracca will handle it. Ramic is a good pon--man--ah, damn it. He’s a good person, and I trust him to take care of both peoples’ artifacts.”

A young Lemurian female trotted up to the two of them. She wore the livery marking her a member of Humfra-Dar’s crew and a courier’s pack. When she reached Twilight, she awkwardly imitated the American salute and stood as straight as she could.

“Prin-sess, Cap-tan Geran-Eras says that we are full of many thousands people and ready to sail. He regrets to say that he cannot fit all.”

Twilight returned her salute and sighed. “Tell him to get going. Aracca will have the space for the rest of B’mbaado city, her culture, and start Aryaal’s evacuation. You’d better go before you’re left behind.”

“Yes, Prin-sess.” She quickly saluted again and scampered to Humfra-Dar.

As the Royals blocked anyone else from boarding, people started to panic, believing that they were being left behind. Thankfully, the soldiers calmed most by telling them another ship was coming, but it was an uphill battle.

“I was always taught that friendship solved everything,” Twilight said. “I was always the hero, saving Equestria from darkness.” She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I never thought that I’d be responsible for dislocating an entire people.”

“They may not see it now, but you are their hero,” Maraan replied. “You are saving them from the Grik.”

“I don’t feel like one.” Several moments passed before she spoke again. “I am the Razor, Queen of Devastation.”

“Who?”

“Black Inkwell, On the Historical Significance of Ancient Pony Warfare, Volume II. She often wrote of how the early Queens would raze conquered lands before ponykind split into the Tribes and changed from outright warfare to tense peace. It’s a good read, if a little dense.”

“How is this significant?”

Twilight sighed. “I feel like one of them.”

Early the next morning, Twilight shook herself out of bed and cleaned up as best she could before the daily officers’ meeting in the wardroom. She glanced around the room. She was alone.

Damn, I’m last, aren’t I? She sighed. Sandra normally rolled out of bed a couple minutes after her, roused by the sink’s noise as she cleaned the hot night’s sweat from her face and brushed her long hair. This time, it looked like the opposite had happened: Sandra had cleaned first, and the noise woke Twilight.

She wiped her face and reached for her brush but hesitated. It could take a few minutes to brush it fully (even with magic), and she might be late for the…the clock said it was seven o’clock. The meeting started now. She left the brush and hurried through the curtains and down the hall to the wardroom.

“Sorry I’m late, Captain,” she said as she entered.

“Not a problem. You’re just in time,” Captain Reddy replied.

Twilight scanned the room as she found her seat. Every one of Walker’s officers was present, along with Jim Ellis, Ben Mallory (the PBY had flown in the evening before) Keje-Fris-Ar and Adar of Salissa, Ramic-Sa-Ar of Aracca, Tassat-Ay-Araaca of Nerracca, Safir Maraan, Lord Rolak, and a new face she assumed was an Aryaalan noble.

“How much farther, Twilight?” Matt asked.

Straight to the point. Twilight consulted her sword to check on the Grik fleet’s progress. “Five day’s sail, sir. I think they sped up in the night.”

“Magic propulsion?”

“Probably.”

“Nightmare Moon?”

“Most likely.”

“If we get caught either here or in the open sea, are you positive that your shield spell will hold up against their weapons?”

“It’s based on my brother’s spell, which can literally stop an entire army from breaching Canterlot. So, unless they have a shieldbreaker spell, we’ll be fine.”

“A shieldbreaker spell?”

“It’s in the name, Captain. A spell that breaks shields. They’re obviously not common, or Chrysalis probably would’ve tried to use it, but they do exist. Princess Celestia herself has used them multiple times throughout her rule. Which…means that Sunset might know one…and that would be bad. Ohhh noooo…” She wandered out of her seat, speaking to herself.

“Twilight, what’s wrong?” Matt asked.

“Nonononononononono…”

“Twilight.”

“Yes?”

“What’s wrong?”

Twilight’s chest heaved. “I don’t have a counter to the shieldbreaker. If we don’t leave right now, we could be caught on the open sea, and we could lose a ship. We could lose a Home.”

Matt frowned. “Mr. Mallory? Where’s Humfra-Dar?”

“I saw her on the way down, sir. She’ll make it to Baalkpan safely.”

“Those are some rough seas right now, Mr. Mallory. Are you sure all those people will be safe?”

Ben stopped to think for a moment. “Yes, sir, I’m sure.”

“Good. I want you in the air as soon as the water’s calm and find Revenge.” Matt turned to Jim Ellis. “Jim, have Mahan refuel from Salissa and leave when he takes off. At least one of these old tin cans needs to make it back to Baalkpan.”

“Yes, sir. How long will that be?”

Matt raised an eyebrow to Twilight.

“It should be safe to sail tonight, but I wouldn’t recommend Mr. Mallory flies until tomorrow morning. It’s a pretty fast storm.”

“There you go, Jim,” Matt said. “It’s a good thing we pulled your port screw yesterday while it was still calm. Tomorrow morning, you leave. Mr. Mallory, that’s when you fly. No exceptions.”

“How will you get it on Walker?”

“Twilight, if you wouldn’t mind?” Matt asked.

“Yes, Captain. I’ll get right on it.”

“Aracca will sail tonight, when we can fit no more People,” Ramic-Sa-Ar said. “And when the seas are calm enough to raise the feet.”

“Keje, I want you sailing as soon as Salissa is filled to bursting, and Nerracca will be right behind you. We’ll refuel right before you leave.”

“Yes, Cap-tan Reddy.”

Matt sighed. “If that’s all? Let’s move quickly. Dismissed.”

Author's Note

Holiday break is over. Glad to be back.

Chapter 46

Twilight watched from Walker’s rail as Safir Maraan stared longingly back toward the ruins of B’mbaado and Aryaal. Chack stood next to the Lemurian queen on the boarding ramp, letting her be the last person to leave the abandoned shores. For a moment, they stood in silence, then turned and somberly walked across the ramp.

Matt’s familiar uniform shoes clunked along the deck nearby, stopping at her side. “Spanky says the screw is tight as can be. Thank you. Again.”

“It wasn’t hard. Just some simple telekinesis.”

He smiled warily. “Well, Laney and Silva are really the only two qualified to use the dive suit besides Spanky himself, and in these waters…” He gestured at the brackish water frothing with flasher-fish stirred up by bored crew tossing rocks gathered from the beach. Although they were supposed to be on duty since Walker was about to get underway, various members of the deck crew--mostly the gun and torpedo crews--weren’t doing anything.

“I understand,” Twilight said softly. She looked again at Chack and Safir Maraan. “I wish we didn’t have to do this.”

“Me neither, but it’s the only choice we have. We’re trading land for time.”

“Yeah, but how much time can we really buy with this?”

“I just hope it’s enough.” Matt stopped leaning on the rail as Chack and Maraan boarded the ship. “Good, they’re aboard. If you’ll excuse me, I must return to the bridge.”

Twilight’s shoulders heaved, and she felt the screws start to churn the water beneath the fantail. As Walker steamed out of Aryaal harbor to meet Neracca, which had already sailed almost over the horizon, she looked back at the ruins. She furrowed her eyes, and she swore that by her life, she’d repair the damage she’d done. She’d restore the two cities to their former greatness.

She’d make things right even if it killed her.

A couple days later, Radioman 1st Class Russel Clancy emerged from the radio room with a paper. “Captain, Mr. Mallory reports that he has spotted the Grik armada and confirms that Amagi is with them,” he said.

“Thank you, Mr. Clancy,” Matt said. “Tell Mr. Mallory to get the hell out of the way and see if Revenge is still floating. Mr. Tolson received our message, correct?”

“Yes, Captain, he did,” Twilight replied. “I located Revenge with my scrying spell, then teleported over to deliver it myself. Last I saw, he’d turned far north to the Java shore to get around the Grik before they cut him off from Baalkpan. I’ve already given you my report on Revenge’s status, so you know how hard the storm hit her.”

Matt frowned and dismissed Russel, who quickly returned to the radio room beneath the pilothouse. “Well, unless they’ve split their forces to attack both Aryaal and Baalkpan, we should be safe” he grumbled. “Does Sunset Shimmer know that spell you use to see whatever you want from wherever you are?”

“I wouldn’t be surprised, Captain. It’s a pretty basic spell, and Sunset is a pretty powerful unicorn. However, I don’t know why she’d want to use it besides… the same reason I would use it. She probably knows exactly where we are.”

The talker held his headphones to his ear, waited a second, then called out: “Captain, Neracca’s lookout reports Grik vessels bearing approximately two-two-five, range thirty-five thousand yards!”

“Are they in range?” Twilight asked.

“Of us? Hell no. Are we in Amagi’s?” Matt sighed. “If we aren’t, we’re certainly getting close.”

Twilight glanced at Walker’s fantail, then up to Neracca, then back toward the Grik fleet. “Can we do anything? We have, like, six thousand people on that ship!”

“I know!” Matt followed her original gaze to the fantail, but his eyes wandered down toward the engineering spaces. “We’re gonna have to tow her.”

“What?” Twilight cried, but Matt had already spun to enter the bridge. He walked over to the talker, frowning in concentration.

“Tell Mr. McFarlane to get up here, and call in Mr. Dowden, Mr. Garrett, and the Chief. All others: sound general quarters!”

Author's Note

Sorry it's short for the time it took to write, but I've just been having a hard time figuring out what to say here. Finally decided to just throw what I had together and call it done.

Edit: Although what I can gather says the effective firing range of Amagi's 10-inch guns is 26,900 yards at 30 degrees elevation, but I can't find a max range. So somewhere in the 27,000-30,000-yard range seems like a reasonable max (if you want to miss repeatedly).

Prologue

Twilight Sparkle’s jaw hit the ground. Right in front of her swirled a whirlpool of dark purplish-black fluid that threatened to pull her in with its violet twirls of magic reaching from the surface and swallow her whole. Deep in the dried lava tubes of Caldera Island, nearly a thousand nautical miles off the Equestrian coast, she and Princess Celestia personally responded to explorers charting the region when they reported Caldera Island’s extensive cave system and the possibilities within. A single ship from the privately funded exploration squadron had sailed into Manehattan Harbor, picked them up, and returned to its sister ships. Meanwhile, the other ships’ crews had begun construction of a military outpost for the soon-to-arrive Equestrian Royal Guard to base operations and prepared for the inevitable swarm of fortune-seekers.

Twilight turned to the senior princess. She was blinking rapidly, wide-eyed, as if she couldn’t believe what she saw. Finally, though, she recovered from her shock enough to speak. “Yes, thank you for alerting us, Mr. Blaze. The Guard will take it from here.”

Blaze, their guide through the twisting caverns, threw a badly executed salute and trotted to the surface as Commander Venom, the Captain of the Guard after Shining Armor left to the Crystal Empire, and his best guardsponies secured the site. This area was now the property and business of the Equestrian government.

“But… how can this be, Princess Celestia?” Twilight asked. “It’s a river of pure, liquefied Equestrian magic flowing like an underground river!”

“My dear Twilight, Caldera Island has always been the site of a magic volcano. Although practically unknown to the public until now, it is here that Luna gained the magic to become Nightmare Moon, and it is here that Star Swirl the Bearded created his most powerful spells. In fact, his extensive laboratory, isolated from meddlers and outside mishaps, is located several hundred feet above us. It is there that he built the mirror portal that now resides in your castle. But the reserves drained when Luna became Nightmare Moon; she used it all in her transformation, which is why she was so powerful, powerful enough to resist the Elements of Harmony for several minutes.”

“Do you think the magic returned here when Luna came back three years ago?”

“It must have, Twilight. Although for the island to still be intact after all these years of erosion and without any support from the magic beneath is a miracle in itself. I will conduct that investigation here, using Star Swirl’s laboratory as a base. Twilight, I need you to return to Equestria with the first shipment of ten barrels and inform Luna herself that the caldera is filled.”

“But why are we taking the magic like an Applelachian coal mine?”

Celestia lowered her voice. “Because this is the most dangerous threat to Equestria in millennia, even when you include Discord’s reign and Lord Tirek’s escape from Tartarus combined. We must keep a close eye on it.”

Twilight nodded. “Yes, Princess Celestia. I’ll make sure all ten barrels make it to Princess Luna unopened.”

Chapter 8

Anger sparked through Twilight’s eyes like flashes of lightning. In each hand she held a swirling violet-black ball of pure energy coalesced from the surrounding ambient magic, absorbing itself into her skin, rejuvenating her with each passing second. The pains in her aching muscles eased, giving way for white-hot crackles between her extended fingers as her hair frizzled in an unnaturally creepy way. Her irises a deep ocean blue-violet now, she stepped out onto the starboard bridgewing, where her skin accepted the more abundant magic from the sea and darkened to a rich arabian night.

Matt backed into the bridge, unnerved by the princess’s behavior. He was none too soon, as Twilight spread her wings and took to the sky in a whirl of wind. As soon as she disappeared, he, Sandra, and Courtney hurried out to watch.

“Did you know she could do that?” Matt asked Sandra, quiet wonder creeping into his voice.

“No,” she replied with a similar tone.

The outside was becoming a sight to behold. A rain squall had bore down on the cluster of ships, but without the crashing waves and heaving seas. The sky was considerably darker than before, roiling in protest against the storm Twilight summoned. It created a spiral that fed energy into its center, which swelled and bulged from the clouds like an enormous water balloon.

Twilight grew grim as the sky buzzed with magic. Her hair stood on end, her wings barely flapped, and her arms moved to continue the uniform counterclockwise spin she’d started. She saw it, heard it, felt it. She could almost taste the sheer amount of raw magic in the air. Then, in the back of her mind, she heard it: Nightmare Moon’s voice.

“Yes. Feel the magic. It is a force through all space and time, a force that can be molded to fit the world it resides in--or it can mold that same world. As it gathers, it becomes noticeable by those not attuned to it, eventually attaining a level where those who have never known magic existed for their entire lives can feel it in their very bones. Now, destroy that ship.”

Twilight raised her hand in preparation. Aboard the “Indiaman,” the lizard crew panicked, some diving overboard to join their already-dead comrades from other ships. Some climbed the masts, ripping the rigging, or hung for dear life on the bowsprit. Most simply dropped to the deck, so completely frozen in fear to control their balance. That wasn’t consistent with the lizards who’d fled the cat-monkey ship, but those hadn’t been threatened by magic.

“The lizards feel it. They know not what it is, only that it is, and they fear it. Predators that they are, they must be attacking to be winning, but this is different. There is no attacking. There will be no hope for winning. The lizards are so pitifully frozen in abject terror that they cannot even move. Destroy them.”

Twilight raised her other hand.

“Do it,” the voice hissed.

She closed her eyes in hesitation.”

“Do it.”

She stared down at the lizard ship, then at Walker. Her human rescuers--her friends--watched her, mouths agape and eyes wide. Courtney was scribbling notes as fast as his shaking hand would let him write. Sandra had cevered her mouth with her hand. Matt’s shortly cropped Navy-style hair bristled in the wind. The sea was beginning to get up now, and the small destroyer started to corkscrew as waves hit it diagonally.

“Destroy them all.”

She brought her hands down. In milliseconds, the largest bolt of ambient magic anyone had ever seen slammed down into and through the lizard ship, lighting the water below and vaporizing it all the way to the floor. The mainmast crumpled aft over the flaming, gaping hole in the ship even as the bolt continued its destruction. The mizzen toppled over the side, taking what was left of the rigging with it. The bowsprit fractured with a deafening crack and floated alongside, its last remaining line tangled in the anchor chain. Then the stores of whatever fueled the lizard firebombs ignited, morphing the ship into an inferno of unrealistic proportions. In seconds, the entire vessel had slipped beneath the mounting waves amid a mushroom of billowing steam.

“Now the destroyer.”

“I can’t. They saved me.”

“Do it.”

“I can’t.”

“Feel the power flow through you. You are the most powerful being on the entire planet. They should grovel and worship you in your presence.”

Twilight sighed, her resolve slowly cracking against the unprecedented mental pressure. She turned to face the small iron ship, its barely-scorched number bobbing in the waves, its flush deck riding the seas like a buoy.

“Do it. Show them your magnificence.”

She raised her hand, facing her palm outward at Walker.

Down on the bridgewing, Matt stared back at her, Courtney and Sandra at his side. All three, not to mention almost the entire crew, couldn’t pull out of their shock. Silva, having moved to the machine guns, waved up to her.

“Hey, Twilight! That was awesome!” Then he realized what she was doing. “Ahh… Don’t do it to me!”

“If you traveled to Equestria, where the ambience is more tangible than even here, you could defeat Celestia.”

Her eyes immediately returned to normal. “You want me to do WHAT?!”

Nightmare Moon retreated from her mind and materialized a few feet away as a human, her grand bat wings allowing her to soar on a pocket of heat like a vulture. “Must I dumb down everything I say? We can defeat Celestia and return to glory. Where we should be, you and I, the most powerful ponies in existence.”

“No,” Twilight coldly replied, her voice dropping to a dangerously volatile tone. “I will never betray Celestia.” She slowly pulled her straining hand back to her side, the lightning between her fingers dissipating. “I will never betray my friends. You have no power over me.”

Nightmare Moon hissed, her fangs dripping with magic. Her eye slits narrowed further, if that was even possible, and she became so furious that her armor darkened to match her skin tone. “Never in a million years has someone dared speak to me that way!”

“Maybe a thousand, Nightmare Moon,” Twilight corrected, her wits returning to her, “but not a million.”

“RRAAHHHH!” The Mare in the Moon darted across the short distance separating them and rammed Twilight. Caught off guard, she barely had time to dodge, and Nightmare Moon folded her faltering wings with magic. Twilight plummeted towards the ocean surface, which was calming now that she’d stopped with the lightning.

“Captain Reddy, we simply must help her!” Courtney practically shrieked.

“I couldn’t even if I wanted to, Mr. Bradford, she’s falling fifty feet off the starboard quarter!” Matt yelled back. “We wouldn’t stop and reverse in time to catch her. We’d be too late if we turned, too.”

Sandra’s gaze rapidly switched between the two men. This time, she sided with Matt, but understood Courtney’s case. Her own argument, however, was completely moot, so she stayed quiet.

Up the ladder, Silva aimed his machine gun at the figure who'd so recklessly knocked Twilight out of the sky. “I can hit her, Mr. Garrett,” he said calmly.

“No, don’t.” Garrett was eyeing the princess, watching how she twisted in her efforts to unbind her wings. “It won’t turn out well.” In the corner of his eye, he saw Gray direct a hose detail to fight the fires threatening the cat-monkey ship.

Twilight eventually ripped the magic bonds apart and spread her wings like a hawk. With too much strain in too little time, they folded by themselves, but this time in a painful arch behind her. She screamed in agony, her mind racing to find the best high-level spell for her situation: a flight spell. Without a second thought, she cast it and her wings immediately responded gracefully. She extended them to their full span--a mind-boggling six feet long--and flew to fight her adversary.

“Not the book-minded welp I faced in the Everfree Forest, I see. You’ve grown, but it will not save you.”

“You haven’t changed at all, Nightmare Moon. You employ new tactics, new spells, but you still cannot comprehend the true power of-”

“Spare me your speeches, Twilight Sparkle. You will need them for Cerberus when you pay him a visit in Tartarus!” With that, Nightmare Moon cast a sizzling beam spell from her hands that raised the hairs on the back of everyone’s neck.

Twilight replied with a spell she’d read in the Canterlot Archives once: one similar to Nightmare Moon’s cast, but different enough to prevent a disastrous backfire. It fired the air around it and baked the sea, evaporating a gaping hole underneath her. Small forks of lightning cracked from both beams, each spitting electric defiance at the other. Nightmare Moon split her beam in two, the second aimed at Walker, but Twilight quickly checked it. With a loud groan and straining hand, she used a mirror spell to channel Nightmare Moon’s magic through her own and out the other side, countering her original beam with her own magic. The Mare’s eyes widened when she realized what was happening, but it was too late: the magic had already surged back into her like a circuit, frying her spell-casting abilities and temporarily freezing her mind.

Just before she hit the water, Nightmare Moon regained her wits and spread her wings, making the same mistake Twilight had earlier, and refolded them to ease the pain. She teleported away in a flash of mystic blue light, disappearing from the area without a trace.

Twilight glided down to the destroyer, her shoulders sagging with exhaustion when she hit the deck. Instead of the expected instant walk to the wardroom, however, she was greeted by an ecstatic Dennis Silva and amazed crew.

“You just fought a f...lipperin’ demon head-on and won, Purple! How did you do that?”

“I just cast spells. Honestly, if you all could use magic, I’d teach you how.”

“You countered a beam of magic with your own, then used it against your opponent,” Matt said. “That’s pretty amazing.”

“Well, I--”

“Do you think we could actually shoot that with our four-inch-fifties?” Garrett asked.

“I’m sure we could if we put enough research into the subject, but I don’t see how it’d be useful.”

“You could burn through a battleship’s amidships armor with that. Captain, this changes everything.”

“You forget, Mr. Garrett,” Courtney interrupted before Matt could reply, “that there are no battleships in this world that we know of.”

Keje-Fris-Ar’s chest heaved with exhaustion. The People had won a great victory, but it would’ve been impossible had the Tail-less Ones not come in a most timely arrival and used their magic. As their ship initially came alongside Salissa, it seemed that their magic was not selective enough. Then a great bam-bam-bam was heard, and the Grik began dying in droves--and only the Grik! A panic ensued in the Grik that had never been seen before. They leaped over the side and fled to their sinking ships, filling the bellies of the flasher-fish that frothed the waves even now. One ship escaped, and the Tail-less Ones started to sprint after it, but they turned around and sprayed water of all things onto Salissa’s flaming decks.

Even as they saved the People, one of them flew--flew--to the sky and summoned what had to be yet more magic and utterly destroyed an entire grik ship with a single hit. Physical, tangible magic that could actually be seen! A quick glance at the Tail-less Ones told Keje that this was strange even to them. If what they had was magic, what could that be? The power of the Heavens themselves? The strength of the ancestors who guided them from the stars above?

He held out the Sign of the Empty Hand, watching who had to be the Tail-less Ones’ leader. Across the water, he actually waved back! Keje leaned into his daughter Selass, and closed his eyes. Today, the sun set on a day when the Grik could be driven away, and the People had very powerful friends.

Author's Note

Slightly longer than last chapter, but still short. I can't help making short chapters for some reason. I ended it here because it was a great chapter break in Destroyermen, and besides, diplomacy should always get its own chapter.

On another note, I got a new cousin last night, so that's great.

Sometime this week, I should be adding to my legends collection here, so be on the lookout for that if you like legend-like storytime.

Chapter 29

Twilight’s arm was held in a sling as she sat at Keje’s side table in Salissa’s Hall, cradling Sunset’s blotched leather scrap in her hands. To her right sat Sandra, Matt, and Alden, while Gray, Spanky, and Adar lined her left. Keje was directly across at the head of the table, and Bradford lounged on a beanbag-like cushion nearby, enjoying a mug of Lemurian beer. A Grik map was spread across the table itself, seemingly tainting the otherwise beautiful room.

Outside, Salissa had been swarmed by partygoers as the Lemurians and humans celebrated their shared victory against the Grik. Here in the Hall, however, the tone was much more somber and serious. Everyone inside was on a need-to-know basis, minus the American officers that couldn’t make it without shorthanding Walker.

“You were right to keep this ‘under wraps’,” Keje mused. “The Grik know much more of the world than we do, and their numbers are immeasurable if that… thing… is correct.”

“They must be destroyed!” Adar cried. “They defile the very nature of the Scrolls with this… abomination! This must be burned!”

“Let’s learn as much as we can before we burn it,” Matt cautioned, waving his hand.

“Oh, of course! Learn everything that we can use to eliminate the Grik!”

“Twilight? Is there some kind of spell you could cast?”

Twilight shook her head, still somewhat zoned out of the conversation.

“Okay. So, the--”

“Even Tirek didn’t kill anypony.”

“What?”

“Tirek took our magic, but he didn’t kill anypony. Discord spread chaos across Equestria, but he didn’t kill anypony. Nightmare Moon tried to plunge Equestria into eternal darkness, but she didn’t kill anypony. Nopony I’ve fought to save Equestria from actually killed ponies.” Her face hardened. “Show me where they are, and I’ll show them what’s it’s like to lose their friend.”

“I don’t believe the Grik even have friends, Twilight,” Courtney said, “and even if they did, I doubt the relationship lasted longer than a single mating session. From what we’ve seen, their warrior class might as well be considered animals for all intents and purposes. We know nothing about any upper classes that they might have other than that they exist and are educated to some degree.”

“That’s an excellent point, Mr. Bradford, and it’s one of our best advantages over them. We actually care about our people,” Matt replied. “It looks like they know about Surabaya--I mean, Aryaal, and there’s no splotch next to it. All other trees on the map--likely Lemurian settlements--have one. They don’t know Baalkpan yet, and I think that’s because we sunk the scouts. They’re going to push for Aryaal.”

“Should we really help them? They’re heretics. They believe that the stars are just dots in the sky! Dots! They fight wars for fun! Must I go on?” Adar clenched his fists and turned red in the face, an accomplishment considering his silver fur.

“They’re still Lemurian, are they not? Potential allies.”

“Then send me,” Twilight suggested.

“We still need to figure out how to use your magic stuff, and your Guards still need to complete their training.”

“I thought about it on the way down from Baalkpan. I’ll give you the instructions, and you can build the thing. It’s kinda like a refinery, but it turns oil into condensed magic, which you can then mold like copper. Just don’t melt it, or it’ll explode. Life magic is pretty volatile.”

“You’re not seriously considering going down to Aryall right now, are you?” Alden asked.

“I am, and I will. My Guards and I can do this.”

“I have a really bad feeling about this.” Alden grimaced. “We shouldn’t. Not yet. How do we explain to everyone back in Baalkpan that we just let an entire regiment go off on its own? It’s a bad precedent.”

“Say we’re gathering more information. We don’t know how they fight in an open field, or land at all for that matter. I can find out for you, and you can prepare a second expedition to reinforce me.”

“Not the Guards. They’re too underprepared.”

“Sergeant, this is my regiment we’re talking about here.”

“And you’re gonna get them killed.”

“Not if we do this right. What if, against all odds, we actually have a large force isolated from help for a prolonged period of time? We need to know how to survive alone.”

“This isn’t like holding a beachhead, Twilight. You will have absolutely zero--I repeat, ZERO--support out there.”

“And we don’t right now? What logistical train has been set up? We’ve been on our own for months. Setting up a refinery in Baalkpan doesn’t change that.”

Sandra carefully placed her hand on Twilight’s shoulder. “I know it hurts. But you can’t go off like this. Dying won’t bring back your friend.”

“She’s right. Losing you will only make our situation worse,” Matt said.

“I--alright. But only because you’re Captain.”

Dear Princess Celestia,

Sunset Shimmer has been lost. We sank one Grik ships the other day and took a second and third as prizes, Walker’s crew leading one, while I led my own troops into the other. We discovered that the ship I took had taken Sunset prisoner as… rations… leaving only a couple scraps of her jacket as evidence she even existed.

Your former student… my student… my friend, just gone. I’m sorry, Princess.

I failed.

Your faithful student,

Twilight Sparkle

Author's Note

And with this, we begin the crusade.