The Cadenza Prophecies

by iisaw

Rating: teen
Tags: My Little Pony: The Movie, Adventure, Violence, Twilight Sparkle, Main 6, Original Character, Alternate Universe, Tempest Shadow
Length: 107379

The Storm King's invasion of Canterlot goes differently when a more callous and world-weary Twilight is present.

With the queen of Twilight Town present, the Storm King's invasion of Canterlot goes badly for his commander and minions. Not satisfied with a mere victory, Captain Blackmane and her friends go on the hunt. Twilight is determined to find the Storm King and make sure he will never be able to harm anyone ever again. It's obviously a mission of reasonable prevention, not murderous revenge. Obviously... Right?

Book 4 of the Alicorn Adventure series.
Sequel to The Twilight Enigma and prequel to The Skyla Pseudonym.

Published 2024-03-19 20:10:00 UTC
Last updated 2024-08-08 16:28:27 UTC

1 The Invasion Festival

The Cadenza Prophecy

by iisaw

Sequel to The Celestia Code, The Luna Cypher, and The Twilight Enigma

= = =

Chapter One - The Invasion Festival

Canterlot is a remarkably beautiful city on any ordinary day, but lavishly decorated for the first International Friendship Festival, it was truly stunning. I flew a slow slalom course as I approached the palace, drinking in the wonderful sights. Colorful banners, flags, and bunting hung everywhere. I could smell the mass of flowers from over a furlong in the air. I felt a swell of pride at how much effort everypony had put into this celebration of peace and goodwill, and more than a little gleeful anticipation of how it would be received by all the foreign delegations and dignitaries who had been invited to attend. I could see the heraldic banners of over a dozen different nations around the edge of the Great Plaza.

To bolster the impression of multi-national participation, I was attending, not as Twilight Sparkle, Third-Tier Equestrian Princess, but as Queen Twilight, ruler of an independent trading nation. I wasn't wearing the nightmarish form that the folk of my city-state were accustomed to, but I did have so much barbaric regalia draped over me that I jangled like a dissonant windchime as I flew.

I glided to a landing on a palace balcony with a clatter and nodded a greeting to the two heralds stationed there to welcome me. "Good morning sirs! Don't bother announcing—"

One flung the doors wide as the other cried out, "Her Royal Majesty, Queen Twilight Sparkle the Great, Princess of Friendship, Bearer of the Element of Magic, Countess of Hoofshire, Protector of..."

He went through the whole ridiculous list, including some titles I didn't even recognise. I sensed Luna's hoof in this ambush-by-protocol, and sure enough by the time I had walked the entire length of the great hall and into the throne room, the herald wheezing to a stop just as I reached the dais, I found my dear demented lover, grinning her head off.

"Welcome to Canterlot, Your Magnificent Majesty!" Luna bellowed gleefully. "All Equestria is honored by your presence!"

"Sorry, but I didn't bring you, or Equestria, any presents," I grumbled at her.

Celestia laughed behind her hoof.

"No presents?" Luna continued, putting on an exaggerated expression of outrage. "Then there is some truth behind your reputation as a stern and merciless monarch?"

"Yup. The evil queen of Twilight Town, that's me. I don't even cover my muzzle when I sneeze."

Cadance joined the fray from where she stood next to the dais. "Oh Twilight, I taught you better than that! Being a tyrannical dictator has changed you!"

I rolled my eyes. "Oh, this International Friendship Festival is off to a great start!"

Celestia chuckled. "Get it out of your systems, now. We need to be all smiles and cooperation at the opening ceremonies."

I glanced over at Rarity—pardon me, Her Exquisite Majesty of Marezambique, Sultana Rarity. "Now's your chance," I told her.

She waved a dismissive hoof. "I never stoop to badinage, dear."

"A little swordplay, then?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.

Rarity only had time to give me a wicked grin before Celestia interrupted. "Not in the throne room! Do you girls want a time-out?"

We all had a good laugh at that, and then it was time for us to join up with the other heads of state and parade out to the Grand Balcony.

We made our opening speeches[1] and then Celestia declared the festivities open.

[1] I know what you're thinking, but mine was very short and succinct, actually. (Spike wrote it.)

Songbird Serenade's act had just opened on the main stage when Ao streaked down out of the sky and landed in front of me, shouting, "Treachery, Majesty! A fleet of warships approaches, hidden by clouds!" Fortunately, the singer and her band were magically amplified so much that the kirin's warning only reached a short way beyond the little crowd of royals around me. A general panic did not immediately ensue.

Call me paranoid for posting my kirin friend (and a few others) as lookouts in case of trouble, but Celestia's insistence on the absence of any soldiers at the festival, even ceremonial guards, had made my withers itch.

I looked up in the direction Ao had come from, and saw a thick mass of dark clouds moving in on the city with suspicious speed.

"Zashira!" I called.

The zebra[2] mare was at my side almost instantly. She looked a bit weird with a flower wreath slipping down over one ear and a fruity drink in one hoof, but her attitude was all business. "Yes, Captain?"

[2] She looked like a zebra but was, in fact, a changeling by the name of Khaatarrekket, who was the third officer of my airship, Nebula. Yes, I have a rather complicated assortment of friends.

"Get to the ship and bring as many of the special armaments as you can carry!"

"Wait!" Celestia called out, but Ket had already jumped over the balcony rail, growing an impressive pair of butterfly wings in a swirl of amber magic. She lost her floral crown, but I don't think she spilled her drink.

Celestia turned to me as Ket flew off toward the airship docks. "Twilight Sparkle! There may be a perfectly good explanation for this. We will try diplomacy first, and make no overt threats, understood?"

I nodded, looking up at the mass of clouds and roughly estimating their speed. "Your kingdom, your rules," I agreed. "Besides, I don't think Ket will be back with the overt threats before those warships arrive."

Celestia gave me a sour look, and Cadance a worried frown, but Luna's attention was on the cloudbank. She wore a tight grin and rolled her shoulders to loosen them up.

Rarity glanced in my direction and then loosened the waist of her tightly cinched dress. I had thought that the large puffs of crinoline at her sides were probably there to bring her profile more in line with the rest of her winged peers, but I caught the glint of highly polished steel beneath, and realized that her faux wings also served as a very good hiding place for a brace of sword blades.

I knew that she loved being a sultana, and had done very well by her new adopted country, but it seemed she still had a fondness for her piratical phase and thought that attending a summit that included carnivorous species and historical enemies warranted some preparations for—contingencies, shall we say?

I felt a touch of chagrin that I hadn't hidden at least a few useful items under my regalia. My crown did have three magically charged gems that I could call upon for a backup reserve of mana, but they weren't weapons per se.

The other kings, queens, regents, and such had backed into the throne room and were muttering anxiously amongst themselves.

Celestia frowned in thought for a moment and then came to a decision. "Cadance, would you please escort our guests back into the castle to the dining hall? Make them comfortable and do your best to keep them calm."

Cadance nodded and went to herd them away from any possible danger. There was a bleat of protest from the Duke of Maretonia, Sultan Xahjir[3] refused to be parted from his wife, and Queen Csharreee vanished in a swirl of changeling magic, but otherwise it went smoothly.

[3] Rarity's husband. It's pronounced zah-yeer, but spelled with an X because Zwahili is full of informative prefixes and suffixes, but most Equestrians can't even get a grip on the za/ze determination, so I'm not going to go into it here.

"Please don't make a fuss, darling," Rarity said to Xahjir. "Here, take one of my blades." One of the nearly hiltless rapier-like blades floated out from under her dress. Her zebra husband took it in an expert reverse-pastern grip and held it close to his barrel where it would be ready, but wouldn't immediately appear threatening.

That's when the first battleship tore through the cloud cover. It was an ugly, armored, slab-sided thing, its engines belching some sort of oily smoke as it came about, slowing and dropping level with the Great Plaza.

Songbird faltered to a halt. Most of the crowd was facing her, with their backs to the open sky, but her expression had them turning in place almost instantly.

"We need to get down there!" I hissed urgently to Celestia. "We need to be ready to get a shield up in case that thing fires into the crowd!"

Celestia leaped over the balcony rail by way of an answer, and the rest of us followed. I levitated Rarity and her husband along.

The battleship slewed through the air and wallowed up to the outer edge of the plaza, colliding with, and toppling three of the open arcade columns along the periphery.

We landed in the open space made by the crowd as they backed away from the smoke and marble rubble. We all readied our magic.

A large metal ramp swung down from the side of the ship to reveal… I almost laughed in relief. It was a small furry creature, not unlike an overgrown pukwudgie, carrying a metal bound box nearly half its size. The magic aura of the box was a simple utility spell, hardly threatening. The creature waddled to the foot of the ramp and set the box down. Then it pulled a telescoping gramophone horn out of the top, and a microphone out of the side.

The creature sounded male-ish when he began to speak, his voice amplified by the box.

"We come on behalf of the fearsome, the powerful, the almighty STORM KING!" Some large banners unfurled down the side of the ship. One was a portrait depicting a yeti-like being.

"Who?" Luna asked, of nopony in particular.

"Never heard of him," I said.

Rarity sniffed. "Is he on the invite list?"

The little creature kept on talking, sounding more and more like a carnival barker as he went on, finishing up with another introduction. "...Commander Tempest!" He threw his stubby arms wide in a theatrical gesture, and a tall purple mare in dark armor emerged from the dimness of the ship.

All hope I had that the encounter would end peacefully vanished. The mare carried herself like a warrior and strongly reminded me of another merciless pony who had once very nearly killed me.

"Tempest, is it?" Celestia said in a quietly dangerous voice that I'd rarely heard. "How may we help you?"

The mare began to descend the ramp at a slow, measured pace. In the full light, I could see the jagged stump of her broken horn and the puckered scar that ran down the right side of her face. I couldn't suppress a shiver of revulsion and horror.

Half-way down the ramp, the sneering mare said in a low, menacing voice, "How about we start with your complete and total surrend—"

My blast and Luna's hit her almost simultaneously. Unfortunately, the strange dark armor wasn't just thaumically resistant, it had some sort of active defense. The jagged symbols on Tempest's shoulder and thigh blazed with energy and deflected our blasts right back at us.

Luna blocked her returning shot with a quick snap shield, and I negated mine with a counter spell.

Tempest smiled at us. It wasn't a pleasant smile. "Such powerful magic! I'm going to enjoy taking it from you."

"Oh suffering stars!" I shouted at her. "This again? Why do you lunatics never learn?"

I had begun calling up a teleportation matrix when the miserable mare pulled out a crystal sphere, crackling with dark magic. She tossed it into the air, spun, and kicked it like a hoofball, straight at Rarity.

I snapped a shield up to intercept it, but the accursed thing burned through the shield nearly instantly and struck Rarity on the chest, shattering and releasing a noxious green vapor. She gasped as black crystals began to form all over her body and her four slim blades, which she had been magically thrusting straight for Tempest, clattered to the floor.

Xahjir screamed in anguish and after an instant of terrible shock, I… I really want to underplay my reaction and say I "lost my temper," but the truth is, I gave into an absolutely murderous rage.

A chunk of marble pillar the size of my head slammed into Tempest's barrel, knocking her down and driving the breath out of her. If magic doesn't work, try physics, I alway say. The trick was to put all the magical umph into the rock before it got anywhere near her reactive armor.

Unfortunately, her armor was pretty good physical protection as well. She scrambled to her hooves and produced another dark magic sphere as her ship began to disgorge immense yeti-like creatures that looked very much like the so-called Storm King. Two other ships loomed out of the clouds and began dropping more troops on long lines. I was willing to bet my tail that there were more ships coming in on different vectors to completely surround us.

Tempest kicked the second sphere, this time at Luna. I'm not a slow learner, and I used a big slab of pavement, ripped out of the plaza floor to stop the thing. It worked, leaving the slab entombed inside a crust of a black basalt-like material. Not a typical turn-to-stone spell then. I could only hope that it was survivable.

"Twi! What do we do?" It was Rainbow Dash, flying ahead of Pinkie Pie and Applejack as they all rushed toward me. They had been settling in to watch the concert from a balcony overlooking the plaza the last time I'd seen them. Dash must have carried them both down to the level of the plaza as soon as the action started.

The non-flying creatures of the festival crowd were backing away from the armored yetis, but they would soon be pressed up against the stage with no way to escape. Xahjir and Ao were cutting down the yetis as fast as they could, but more of the big armored beasts were dropping from the airships every second, and it wouldn't be long at all before we were overwhelmed.

"Dash, do whatever you can to stop the ships from unloading. Ket should be here any time with some zebra fire. AJ, help—"

Another sphere of dark magic streaked toward me, and I barely got a chunk of marble in front of me in time. While the black crystals were still forming around it, I sent it back at Tempest as fast as I could. She dodged it, but two of the other five rocks I followed up with slammed into her. I had hoped to knock her over the edge of the plaza, but she caught up against one of the broken pillars. She seemed stunned enough that I could finish giving orders.

"AJ and Pinkie, help drive back the yetis!"

Luna needed no suggestions. She was already severing drop lines and peppering the soldiers with high-speed chunks of stone. Their armor and shields meant that direct magic blasts were ineffective, but she could teleport herself at will, appearing just behind the squads, hitting them where they were most vulnerable. A group that ran down the ramp from the ship to back up their commander all disappeared over the edge as she physically slammed into them. I winced at the sound of the impact, but Luna soared back into the melee with a joyous battle-cry, apparently unharmed by the collision.

I heard a roar from above and looked up to see an immense beast crouched on top of one of the battleships. It was a bear-like creature with wings and eight clawed arms, all furiously ripping armored plating off the top of the envelope. As I watched, several others like it appeared and began attacking other vessels and attempting to push them away from the city.

I smiled. It was a shame Queen Csharreee hadn't brought more than a half-dozen attendants to the festival, but the changelings were a huge help, nevertheless.

The flare of prismatic light and the accompanying concussion from behind us was another bit of good news. I took a quick glance over my shoulder and confirmed that Rainbow Dash had timed her sonic rainboom perfectly. She had almost made contact with the airships approaching the castle from behind us when her thaumic field snapped. Two ships were slewing around wildly and one had actually shed one of its huge armored plates and was nosing down into an uncontrolled dive.

Dash's rainbow trail arched upward as she gained altitude for another pass.

I had adjusted my tactical thinking to assume that our rear was covered when that damned-to-Tartarus evil mare pulled another surprise out of her… Well, out of her broken stub of a horn, actually. She had no way to channel or control her magic, but that didn't mean she was lacking in raw power.

She unleashed a blast at Rainbow that would have cooked her if it had been a direct hit. Tempest led her target, as is second nature for any experienced fighter, but nopony understands just how insanely fast Dash is, particularly a pony that had never seen her in action before. Tempest's bolt detonated quite a ways behind her. The blast was enough to tumble Dash through the sky, but I was sure that she'd quickly recover and get back to doing what she did best.[4]

[4] Being awesome, of course.

Getting back to what I did best was a good plan. The battle surrounding me had become too chaotic to keep track of, let alone control, but I could complete one very important task. I could eliminate the biggest single threat we faced.

The five tons of solid marble I dropped on top of Tempest should have done the trick. Incredibly, even as battered and bruised as she was, she still managed to roll out from under the section of pillar I teleported over her head before it crashed into the plaza.

I was in the process of getting a bigger hammer when I heard a deep bellow from behind me. "YAK SMASH!"

Oh good, it's Rutherford, I thought. I hope he gets his subjects pointed in the right direction.

I needn't have worried. The yetis, being the largest things around, immediately captured Rutherford's attention. Their shields didn't do much to protect them from several tons of gleeful yaks, and bunching up in a defensive wedge only made them easier to hit.

But that still left Tempest.

Using levitated slabs of stone continued to be a good way of blocking Tempest's horn blasts, but it was getting to be a bit hard on the plaza pavement. I had to switch tactics.

I dropped the pony-sized chunk of marble I had pulled out of the floor and sagged half-way to my knees, gasping and feigning exhaustion. It worked like a charm.

Tempest grinned and produced another of the black magic spheres. "Goodbye, Princess," she said with a sneer as she tossed the thing into the air, preparing to kick it in my direction.

I drew on the power of my reserve crystals just to make sure nothing went wrong, and teleported a sizable chunk of the Canter River to a spot just over her head. Knowing how fast the nasty mare was, I didn't rely on gravity to do my work for me that time. I added as much inertia to the water as I could pull from the crystals, and the whole mass hit the floor with such an impact that many nearby ponies were bounced off their hooves.

The enormous boom of tons of water slamming down onto the plaza drew nearly everycreature's attention, and the attacking yetis quickly realized that the sodden, unmoving lump on the shattered pavement was their commander.

"Surrender now," Celestia said. She sounded calm, even serene, but anypony who knew her well could tell how absolutely furious she was. I suddenly realized that I hadn't seen her take any action during the fight. She hadn't even moved as far as I knew.

Aside from the sounds of crumbling masonry and collapsing airships, there was a moment of silence. Then, the little creature, who had apparently been hiding behind the amplification box the whole time, jumped up and ran screaming for the flagship's ramp.

Celestia's horn pulsed once, and a gout of plasma, too bright to look at directly, streaked into the big, open bay of the ship. I could feel the heat of it as it passed, even dozens of lengths away. The ship exploded into flames, and the entire vessel began to break apart as it rolled off the edge of the plaza and dropped out of sight.

The little creature on the ramp turned away from the now molten end that had been attached to the ship and stared at Celestia with enormous eyes.

"No escape," she told him. "Only surrender." Her voice was low and soft, but it was pitched to carry across the whole plaza. Several more of the battleships, some trailing green flames as they sank, added a nice bit of emphasis to her words.

The little yeti dropped to his knees and then fell flat on his face. After a moment, the big ones began throwing down their shields and weapons.

"Wise choice," Celestia commented.

Luna popped in next to me, her coat shining with sweat and a fierce grin on her face. "Ha! By Typhon's teeth, was that not a battle to stir the blood?" She looked around and spotted Tempest. "Hast thou slain the villain, my love? 'Tis a pity; she fought well and cannilly."

I would have kissed her, but we were in public.

"Let's see," I said. I walked over to where Tempest lay sprawled. "Be careful of that," I told Luna, pointing to the crystal sphere full of roiling dark energy. For a wonder, the waterfall hadn't broken it. I assumed there might be some kind of unknown triggering mechanism, so I made sure to keep well away from it.

Tempest's armor wouldn't let me scan her, so I physically ripped a shoulder plate off her rig and stuck my hoof against her barrel under her foreleg. "No, her heart's still beating. That's good, because she can tell us how to reverse that dark stone spell. If it is reversible."

"Ah…" Luna looked back over her shoulder at the black crystalline form of Rarity. "I think Sultan Xahjir will have her blood if it is not."

I nodded. "If it's not, I'll hand her over to him on a silver platter, and watch."

Luna gave me a gentle hip bump.

Cadence swooped down next to Celestia and said to her, "Shining is coming with the palace guard. They're bringing magical restraints and shackles. The Wonderbolt performers are—"

The only Wonderbolts in the city that day were the elite squad that were there to perform the aerial show, but they were already arriving with stretchers, first aid kits, and as many pegasus volunteers as they could muster.

Queen Csharreee and her attendants were helping to herd the yetis into compact bunches. She seemed to think that giant border collies were just the right aspect for the job.

The rest of the girls worked their way through the chaos and gathered around me. "Where's Fluttershy?" I asked.

Applejack snorted in disgust. "As soon as things got hoppin', Discord popped in, nabbed her, and skedaddled. That sidewinder coulda turned all o' them battleships to cheese or sumthin'!"

"Well, at least she's safe," I said. Would the yeti's anti-thaumic armor work against chaos magic? It was something to think about.

Shining Armor arrived with the guards and they gathered around Tempest. "Use the best suppressor you've got on her and then get that sphere into a containment box. Don't touch it directly or use magic on it," I told them.

A young guard pony knelt near Tempest with a suppressor ring in his hoof. "Not much of her horn left to get a grip on," he said. "She might be able to shake it off."

"Tie it on," I said, and pulled some of the bunting off the edge of the stage, tearing it into strips as I floated it over.

"Gimme the rest o' that Twi," AJ said. "I'll hog-tie her good an' tight"

Shining edged over to me. "You okay, Twi?" he whispered.

I looked around at the carnage. "If Rarity's okay, I'm okay. So—we'll just have to wait and see."

= = =

Author's Note

My grateful thanks to Cynewulf and Jordanis, who gave me invaluable editing help along the way.

Dedicated with undying adoration to a certain pirate wench who forced me at cutlass point to continue this series.

4 Schemes and Plans

Chapter Four - Schemes and Plans

The Canterlot Palace guards on duty the next morning must have been off duty at the party because I detected a certain redness in their eyes even through their uniform spells. I'm sure I saw one of them wince at the sound of my echoing hooffalls on the marble floor of the entrance hall, too. It seemed a bit unfair, but the observation made me doubly thankful that my alicorn metabolism had flushed all the toxins out of my system well before I awoke.

"Your plan succeeded, then?" Celestia asked as I entered the small parlor in her private chambers. I had scrawled a quick note requesting the meeting before tumbling into bed with Luna around midnight, significantly more inebriated than I was accustomed to being.

I covered my mouth with a wingtip as I yawned. "Sorry! I was up pretty late last night."

"You could have slept in."

"No, I wanted to talk with you as soon as possible. There's a lot to get started on."

Her horn flashed and a large carafe of coffee and a platter of croissants appeared on a tray between us. I wasn't in such a rush that I couldn't spare the time to fill a mug while stuffing one of the rolls into my mouth.

Celestia graciously filled the gap in the conversation while I chewed and swallowed. "Your note would suggest that Tempest Shadow is not only willing to give you all the information she can, but would be glad to actively assist you against the Storm King's armada. That is quite an amazing change of attitude. I would like to know how you managed it."

I washed my croissant down with a gulp of coffee and sighed in happiness before I answered. "It's not really a change at all. Tempest is solidly on Tempest's side, and Team Tempest has one primary goal: getting her horn back. I just provided a framework for her to work out a new strategy."

Celestia nodded thoughtfully. "Would giving an amoral, dangerous pony the ability to apply her magic as anything more than a blunt instrument be a wise thing? To say nothing of the cost. I have to point out that Equestria[1] would not cover the fees and materials even if she were not an enemy. What guarantee do you have that she won't betray you once she has what she wants?"

[1] i.e. Celestia herself. In theory, the Upper House of Parliament could deny any "request" she made, but not many of the comfortable nobles were inclined to commit political suicide.

She caught me with another mouthful, and I had to make a "not-at-all" gesture with my wings. "Oh yesgh… I mean yes, she probably would double-cross us if it meant she could get an extra biscuit with her tea. Believe me, I understand that her damage only begins with that broken horn! But I'm working the old friendship mojo on her, and I think she could eventually be—" I almost said "a nice pony" and the stupidity of that stuck in my throat like an unchewed bit of croissant. "—a valuable ally. Besides, I've arranged it so that she won’t get what she wants until after we get rid of her old boss."

"Won't she see your withholding her greatest desire as coercion? An unwilling—"

"Oh, no, no no! She knows the cost. I've promised to cover the procedural stuff but that still leaves an enormous fortune in orichalcum and a suitable crystal to somehow get hold of. You see, one of the things that I learned about the Storm King's armada was that it has acquired a large amount of orichalcum. Certainly more than is required for a horn restoration. Tempest is only going to get what she wants after the Storm King is defeated and his treasury thoroughly looted. Our goals are now the same, which leaves no motivation for betrayal. Not immediate betrayal, anyway."

I have to admit that I was feeling fairly smug at that moment.

Celestia bent over her coffee for a moment and then gave me a particular little sideways glance. That told me she was probably going to allude to a subject that we had mutually agreed to avoid at some time in the past. "And the rest of the Storm King's treasury?"

Of course I had plans for it, but I thought that simply blurting out, "I'm keeping it!" wouldn't go over very well with Celestia. I hesitated for so long that her expression became one of slightly worried curiosity. "Twilight?"

I took another croissant and stuffed the whole thing into my mouth to buy a few more seconds to think. I darn near choked on it and had to take a big slug of coffee to wash it down.

"Twilight."

"Uh… ahh… Yes, yes, sorry about that. I… You know my little item acquisition project?[2]Well, it turns out that maybe I shouldn't have been as organized and methodical about pursuing it as I have been up to now."

[2] The world is littered with powerful magical items that could wreak havoc in the wrong hooves. My "little project" was a concerted effort to locate, acquire,[3] and lock away those items in order to make the world a safer place.

[3] i.e., appropriate, steal, loot, rob, or even buy on rare occasions. Creatures or nations in possession of such items were hardly ever willing to give them up, and that's why basing operations in a lawless free city and flying a pirate flag when necessary was so convenient. When you consider the matter carefully, flying le joli rouge and outright pilfering items is a lot less deceitful than the way that most imperial powers go about acquiring artifacts.

Celestia was clearly surprised if not shocked by my statement. I hurried on, in order to avoid any discussion of my state of mind. "Since I started out in Zebrica, I've been concentrating my efforts mainly in that area of the world, trying not to leave any isolated spots 'behind the lines,' so to speak. So, I've been completely neglecting places in other regions, mainly to the south and southeast of us." I paused and took a deep breath. "Which is where the Storm King comes from."

I took another big gulp of coffee before I continued. "From what Tempest has told me, the Storm King had the same idea for a little project as I did, and his treasury contains a lot of questionable magical devices. The main difference is that he intends to use the items he acquires for conquest.

"So… The King has collected a lot of things so far, like the staff he wanted to power with our magic. The problem—well, a problem is that I don't know exactly what other unpleasant things he has in reserve, and removing him as a threat is going to be a lot more difficult and dangerous than the little battle we fought here, particularly if I try to take him head-on."

Celestia nodded again. "I take it Tempest didn't provide an itemized list of these things?"

"Unfortunately, she can't. He isn't exactly the trusting sort, and she wasn't with him for all that long. I'll have to deal with them as I encounter them." I let Celestia think it over while I poured myself another half-cup of coffee.

"Tempest thinks that the Storm King will avoid Equestria after this defeat, but I can't afford to rely on her judgment, Twilight. I'm afraid I will have to prepare for another, more powerful attack while appearing to be completely unconcerned."

Over the years I have learned to think through any of Celestia's odd statements before replying. I took a small sip of coffee and then said, without looking up from the cup, "The other monarchs are pretty impressed with Equestria[4] right now. Seeing you scrambling to strengthen our defenses would undermine that." I looked up. "Might even put thoughts in their heads."

[4] See footnote 1.

Celestia smiled. "And…?"

"And—" Curse it! That mare always played five moves ahead. "—gearing up for a battle might spur the Storm King into a preemptive attack." She opened her mouth to comment, but I held up a hoof to stop her. "And, a business-as-usual atmosphere will let me easily slip quietly into his territory for the little mission I've planned but haven't told you about yet, but which you've suspected ever since I set hoof in here."

She gave me a sly smile and tapped the floor gently with one hoof in barely audible applause. Then, she teleported away the food and replaced it with a very large map of Equestria and the lands to the south, along with an inkwell and quill holder. "I would love to know the details," she said calmly.

"Well, first I'm going to head back—" I almost said home, but continued on with only the tiniest of pauses which I hoped (no doubt futilely) that Celestia hadn't noticed. "—to Twilight Town, so that I can set out for the south as Captain Blackmane. The fact that Tempest mistook Rarity for Cadance, and seems to have thought that I and Queen Twilight were two different ponies[5] means we have a hayloft full of plausible deniability. No need to drag Equestria's name in the mud if I mess up badly."

[5] Not as uncommon a mistake as it seems. Even now, Twilight Twinkle of Fillydelphia and The Mad Sorceress of the Blighted Forest occasionally get some of my mail.

"Or if you succeed in a spectacularly noticeable fashion."

I looked at her over the top of my coffee cup and raised an eyebrow.

"You do intend to make an example of him, don't you? One impressive enough to serve as a warning to future would-be conquerors?"

I sighed. "If blasting a centaur the size of a mountain to Tartarus didn't do the trick, what else could I possibly do to get the point across?"

"The answer to that question is exactly what I'm concerned about, Twilight."

"Testing a hypothesis through experimentation is the only way to find out for sure," I replied with faux cheerfulness. She said nothing. "That was a joke."

She stared at me for a long moment and then it was her turn to sigh. "They don't learn, Twilight. Believe me, there will be an endless supply of avaricious, brutal creatures that will think that they are the exception—that they will be the one to win the world by destroying or devouring everything that stands against them."

I nodded. "That's why I intend to eliminate him as a threat in the most direct and efficient way possible. No need to be showy about it, but if the best way to do that happens to be big and loud, I'm not going to hold back."

Celestia stared into her tea. "Fear leads to hate, Twilight."

I felt a little twinge of resentment at that. "Good ponies have nothing to fear from me—or Captain Blackmane, or Queen Twilight."

She looked up and gave me a completely artificial smile. "That's good to know."

= = =

After my planning session with Celestia, I went back to the embassy and called for a meeting with Nebula's officers. I had a big table set up in the reception hall because I knew that the five creatures I had invited would be outnumbered by the gate-crashers.

I wasn't wrong, but I had still underestimated the number of self-invitees that would be able to get past the embassy's guards.I had expected Luna, Rarity, Rainbow Dash, Applejack, and even Queen Csharreee, but those were only the first to arrive.

When Discord popped in (literally) with Fluttershy in tow, I began to suspect that things were getting out of hoof.

"—and don't think I won't, mister!" Fluttershy appeared in mid rant, pointing a foreleg at Discord's misshapen snoot.

"B-but I'm only thinking of your safety, sweetums!" he protested. From his whining tone, I figured he had already lost the argument, and was trying to weasel into an excuse-laden apology.

"If I stay safe while my friends go into danger, then what does that make me? A coward, that's what! Do you think I'm a coward, Discord?"

Wow. I had seen my tiny, delicate pegasus friend face down some ugly customers in my time, but watching the large and twisty "Lord of Chaos" try to squeeze himself down into a knotted lump beneath her anger was something unique. I briefly considered teleporting in a tub of popcorn.

"No, of course not! But can I at least come along? I want to protect you, darling!"

Fluttershy could recognise abject surrender when she saw it, and she relented immediately. "Oh dear, I know you mean well, but we'll be in disguise and trying to be quiet. You have such a wonderful outgoing and creative personality, that it just wouldn't be fair to you or the mission."

I marveled at the positive spin Fluttershy put on her evaluation of his character. I would have said his prudence and good judgment ranked somewhere south of that of an enraged howler monkey, and that I didn't fancy being exposed because he decided to belch up a school of winged piranha at exactly the wrong moment.

Discord seemed mollified. Evidently, Fluttershy knew what she was doing. She also somehow knew that there was a clandestine mission before most of the rest of the crew. I really needed to improve my security measures. Speaking of which—

I turned to the server who was setting out glasses and pitchers of water and knocked her half-way across the room with an energetic horn blast.

Everyone gasped and silence fell over the room for one blessed instant. Then, the exposed changeling sat up and shook her spinning head, and the excited chatter was even louder than before.

The changeling hadn't even gotten back onto her hooves before I teleported her to a spot a pony length above the reflecting pool in the formal garden on the Blueblood estate. I would normally be a little more tolerant of Princess Chrysalis attempting to poke a spy's snout in my private business, but the events of the past couple of days had frayed my temper a bit.

Khaatarrekket was by my side immediately, saying, "I'm very sorry, Captain! I didn't spot her. Must have had some additional stealth spells on her. How did you know?"

I pointed to the water pitchers and glasses that had been plunked down, seemingly at random, on the sideboard against the wall.

"Ah." Ket nodded, and went to rearrange the glassware into neat, orderly rows. She's the best Third Officer flying, and I won't be told differently.

"Now..." I looked around the overcrowded table and asked, "Is that all, or should I send for more chairs?"

There was a crash from the doorway and a guard gasped out, "I'm sorry Your Majesty, but I couldn't stop her!" as a very upset Cadance strode into the room.

"Twilight!" she called out to me, ignoring everyone else in the room. "We're in danger!"

With a titanic effort, I managed to prevent myself from rolling my eyes. "Could you be a little more specific, please?"

"The Empire! My family, you, we're all in deadly danger. I've seen it!"

"Wait—like a vision? You get visions? Since when?"

She balked at that and looked around the room, as if only then realizing how many creatures were witnessing her outburst. "I… Perhaps we should speak privately."

"Alright. Give me just a second." I turned to the crowd and used my quarterdeck voice, which is slightly less percussive than the Royal Canterlot version. Since Cadance had derailed my meeting I vocally ran down my checklist headings as quickly as possible.

"Ao, Ket, get Nebula resupplied and rearmed as soon as possible for a voyage of indeterminate length and—" I flicked a glance over my shoulder at Cadance. "—indeterminate destination.

"Queen Csharreee, I am honored by your kind offer and I gladly accept your support.

"Girls, pack whatever you think you'll need if you're coming along. This may be a long, unproductive trip, so don't feel obligated. Make sure Tempest gets shown around aboard and settled in. Let Pinkie Pie know that—"

"Oh, she already knows," Applejack interrupted me. "She's aboard right now, stowing supplies in the galley. She'da been here, but she ain't much for this kinda plannin’."

"Uh… Right." I shouldn't have expected anything different. "Now, Sultana Rarity, I know you have your royal duties, and I'm sure Sultan Xahjir wouldn't want—"

Rarity effectively stopped me in my tracks with a single dismissive tsk. "I am not going to miss out on an opportunity to introduce an entirely new hemisphere to the swashbuckling fabulousity that is Silver Mask! My darling husband and I have an agreement on such matters, and he will not object."

Okay then. I gave her a curt nod of acknowledgement. All the necessary boxes had been checked. Except one.

I caught Luna's eye, and made a slight motion of my head. She nodded and stepped back into the shadow behind a tapestry, vanishing like a wisp of smoke.

I trusted the rest of them to work out all the small details without my having gone over them as exhaustively as I had planned. Perhaps my sister-in-law's interruption had been for the best.

"Be prepared to sail tomorrow, an hour after sunset." I turned and strode toward the door to the private wing of the embassy. "Spike, Cadence, with me."

= = =

=

17 Antithetical Allies

Chapter Seventeen - Antithetical Allies

I should have known.

I was so focused on blending in with their cultural expectations that I had just gone along without thinking. I silently berated myself for being an idiot and took a couple of sips of water to keep from bringing up the fruits of my victory.

Evidently, I wasn’t as casual about it as I tried to be because Wepaten cocked his head slightly and asked, "Is something amiss, Captain?"

That was not a good time or place to show weakness, so I forced myself to smile at him and said, "I was just wondering how much better the heart of a king would taste."

"Ah." He hesitated and then said, "May you discover that soon, Captain." He turned to his sidi and translated my comment. The Sidi didn't visibly react.

The dish was removed and the first course brought out to us with various ceremonial flourishes. More meat was put before Ralf and Spot, but Half Hitch and I were served vegetarian dishes. The combination of spices was a bit odd, but otherwise the food was delicious.

After that course and before the next, Atenar Sidi questioned me about my ship and companions, wondering aloud that the Equestrian Navy had not pursued the Stormguard ships with proper battleships.

"There were no ships to pursue, Sidi," I replied. "All of the Storm King's craft at Canterlot were destroyed. Princess Celestia did not think it was worthwhile to waste the navy's time hunting for the rest of the armada and asked me to locate and destroy any that I could find."

There was a quiet back-and-forth between the Sidi and his Seti, before the next question. Wepaten turned to me and asked, "But you are not a subject of the Princess, isn't that correct? How is it that she can command you?"

"That is correct, and she didn't command me. It… It's a little complicated, but I will sometimes do favors for the Equestrian royalty, because they kindly issued me a letter of marque and reprisal. The letter is an acknowledgment of my independant status, but also—"

Wepaten held up a paw and nodded. "We understand the concept. The High Song had such an arrangement with several Ornithian and Caninian—independents before the Storm King put an end to them."

"The Equuish term for such approved 'independants' is privateer."

Wepaten cocked his head. "Indeed? We will make note of it."

Before the fine distinction between pirates and privateers could be gone into, the next course arrived.

The meal went on like that for several courses. They seemed to already know some things about Equestria and Twilight Town, but were eager to confirm their information and get more. Because I started off knowing next to nothing about them, I learned a great deal as well.

I mentioned our cargo and, given the amount and quality of magical crystals I had seen, I offered a very generous trade for a gem of particular qualities. I even wrote out the specifications on a small slip of paper.

It was over coffee and sweets that the real negotiating got going.

The Sidi was willing enough to allow continuing direct trade with Twilight Town merchants. Now that the location of their city was known, there wasn't much point in using cut-outs and exclusive pilots, anyway. He was also all too happy to issue a letter of marque to me personally. I think that was because he (not entirely incorrectly) presumed that it would open the door to asking a "favor" from me from time to time.

It was my third request that he balked at.

"The Stormguard ships are in my kingdom. All salvage rights belong to Atenar Sidi," he explained through Wepaten. The Sidi made a gesture that seemed to mean the point was incontestable.

I paused to marshal my arguments and noticed something interesting about a little golden dish of candied nuts. I couldn't help smiling. It seemed that someone beside Nebula's newest crewpony could get lucky. All of the dinnerware was richly decorated, and the details had become background noise as the meal went on. But there it was; a symbol that was unmistakable after all of my recent reading.

"I seek only some specific items that will be of great benefit to me," I began. "The bulk of the salvage I would leave to you."

Atenar Sidi frowned and opened his jaws to interrupt me, so I levitated the little dish up and dumped the contents onto my charger. "And after all, I am now an ally of your great and prosperous kingdom, am I not?." I turned the dish vertical so that he could see the crossed crocodiles embossed on its surface.

Wepaten and Atenar traded startled looks. Wepaten stepped closer to the throne and the two of them held a hushed and hurried conversation. After a minute or so Atenar slumped back in his throne and Wepaten approached me again.

"My Sidi most generously agrees to your request, only asking that a few jackals accompany your salvage team."

"That would be agreeable to me."

Wepaten reached out and took the dish out of my magical field, gazing at it for a long moment. Then he waved the attendants forward and said, "Forgive Wepaten for not escorting you back to your boat. Wepaten has other duties that must be attended to. Will tomorrow morning suit you for salvage operations?"

"That will be fine, thank you." I rose and the Nebulas followed suit. It was obvious we were being dismissed.

I thanked Atenar Sidi formally and politely, and let the fan-bearing attendants proceed us to the door, where they performed more ceremonial movements. The door swung open, but before I could pass through, Wepaten called out my name.

"Yes, Seti?" I asked, turning to face him.

He held up the little golden dish and then skimmed it through the air toward me. I caught it in my magic and cocked my head at him which (in my experience) is a near universal gesture for, "Huh?"

"A souvenir," he explained as the door slowly closed.

= = =

The halls (streets?) were more crowded as we returned to the entrance, and the dogs more openly curious. There were even members of other species present—a few tall avian types that tracked us closely with their sharp, bright eyes.

Just before we reached the entrance hall, a gray jackal shouted out something from an alcove. Her tone was definitely hostile and her lips were wrinkled up in a snarl. I didn't understand her, but one word caught my ear: bessan. She was looking at Ralf.

Ralf very pointedly did not look at her.

I yanked her out of her shadowy niche and pinned her to the floor with my magic as I whipped out one of my short blades in a pastern grip and held it above her throat.

"Please, Captain, no!" Ralf grabbed my sleeve and pulled as the jackal's eyes went wide and she wet herself. The crowd around us went dead quiet, and our attendants faltered to a disorganized halt.

My hoof didn't waver. "Are you sure, Mr. Ralf?" I asked quietly.

"Yes, Captain! Please don't hurt her!"

"Alright," I said casually, as I released the dog and slid my blade back into its sheath. I waved the fan-bearers forwards and continued walking. The murmuring of the crowd rose to a steady surf-like noise behind us. I didn't look back.

I wouldn't have killed her, of course, or even hurt her, but my position required a certain display of ruthlessness in order to be believable. You might think unleashing a blast that could have destroyed their entire city would have instilled a bit more respect, or at least caution in the population, but people of any sort can be completely illogical about that sort of thing. Or maybe she hadn't gotten the memo. In any case, nobody insults a member of Blackmane's crew with impunity.

The terribly important fan-waving ushered us out the door to the canyon bottom, and we all trotted down to where Bookmark was just as we had left her. We boarded, Half Hitch took the tiller, and we unceremoniously upped stakes and dropped ballast.

There was a little turbulence as we rose above the canyon's rim and into the slanting sunlight of late afternoon, but nothing remarkable.

"Do you want to explain what that was all about, Mr Ralf? Is it something that's likely to happen again?"

The poor guy looked utterly miserable. "Ralf should not have gone back. Ralf does not belong there."

"But they are your people, aren't they?"

He gestured to the pocket where I had put the little golden dish. "The Captain knows much of the High Song. How is that, if Ralf may ask?"

"A very powerful magic that can reveal to me the secrets of the ages," I replied. That got everyone's attention. Ralf stared at me, wide-eyed. "Books, Mr. Ralf. I read a lot of books."

Ralf gaped at me.

"She ain't even kidding, Mr. Ralf!" Half Hitch chuckled. Captain's got more books aboard than most libraries and the only reason we don't use 'em as ballast is 'cause she'd never let us drop any!"

Ralf, still a bit bemused, went on. "Then, the Captain may know of the old saying of the jackals, 'Blood makes the pack'?"

I didn't, but it didn't matter because Ralf went right on. "It is untrue! Only pure blood makes the pack. Ralf's mother was not a jackal, and so Ralf is bessan, and has no place there."

I tried to hide my anger at that, and I think I mostly succeeded, but I might have been fooling myself. (That happens from time to time, especially when it’s less ‘anger’ and more ‘outraged fury’.) "Mr. Ralf," I said when I could be sure my voice would be steady, "You have a pack and a place now."

He looked over at me, and his tail thumped against the thwart a couple of times.

We were approaching Nebula by then, so we all got busy making ready to tie up to her.

= = =

I got the gals and all the officers together in the great cabin to relate what had happened to the shore party. I went through it all as quickly and efficiently as I could, given that it hadn't been possible to take notes.

"Any questions?" I asked when I had finished.

Ensign Sherbet raised her hoof.

"Ensign? You have a question? But you were there!"

"Yes, Captain," she replied. "I… Well, I haven't said it outright, but before Queen Csharreee seized power, I was assigned to an infiltration group that was sent to Caninia.[1] I learned the language and enough of the culture to pass. It's not all that dissimilar to these dogs, but I still don't understand that business with the dish."

[1] Another hidden Diamond Dog kingdom in the northern mountains. At that point, if an ancient civilization of ice weasels had been discovered in the basements of Las Pegasus,[2] I wouldn't have blinked an eye.

[2] Not that I should be surprised by the inability of sarcasm to outpace reality, but during the editing of this narrative, I was dismayed to learn of the existence of boreal mungteeth (which are often commonly referred to as ice weasels) and the Museum of Adorable Atrocities in Las Pegasus, which has several in its collection. Not quite what I had jokingly predicted, but close enough to make me briefly exasperated with the inherent perversity of the multiverse.

I remembered her comment about the mission being "not her first dog show," and chuckled. "The two tribes of dogs must not share much in the way of legends," I told her. I went on to describe the symbolism of the trade weights that allowed for a metaphorical second language. "They're mostly used by merchants, but everyone would know the fables and morals they stand for. Once I started paying attention, I saw these symbols all over the place. This—" I levitated the dish out of my pocket so everyone could see it. "—isn't two separate crocodiles, it's a two-headed, two-tailed, single creature. The story is a cautionary tale. The two heads fight over which one gets to eat the food, even though it ends up in the same stomach. The meaning is, loosely, 'Don't be stupid, this benefits both of us!'"

Ao laughed outright at that. "This one holds these dogs in higher regard now! So many creatures would go bloodied of snout and empty of belly, even understanding so much!"

"Well, I think they may just be starting to see the benefits of friendship with us!" I said, smugly.

Sherbet made a sort of strangled noise.

"Ensign Shrrbrgrth?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Forgive me Captain," she said. "Friendship is—complex. Positive emotions of many sorts accompany it, but I sensed none of them from the jackals."

"Really?"

"Yes, Captain. There was uncertainty and greed, but the predominant emotion they felt was fear. They were absolutely terrified of you."

Well… Damn.

= = =

I inspected the repairs after dinner, and walked the deck before turning in. It was only two bells into the First Watch, but it had been a long and exhausting day. I was just about to go below when I spotted Tempest on the fo'c'sle deck, sitting next to the bowsprit and reading a book.

I could barely believe my eyes so I went forward and called out to her. She jumped up and saluted. "Good evening, Captain!" Grubber had been curled up next to her and did his best to imitate her movements.

It was weird. It was the most formal she had ever been with me. "Relax, Tempest. What are you reading?"

Grubber picked up the book for her and held it out so that I could see the cover. It was Quill Dancer's The Founding of Twilight Town. It was a mostly factual account, but lacked a deep understanding of the culture of the Town, and tended toward the hyperbolic. I recognized the copy as the one from the ship's library, which I knew had my added corrections.

"Ah, good! If you make sure to give more credence to my marginal notes[3] rather than the text, I think you'll get a pretty accurate idea of what went on in those days."

[3] I feel I have to make something clear here, because so many ponies seem to be surprised and shocked that I make a habit of writing notes in the margins of my books. This is an old scholarly tradition, and a quite common practice. A simple, short word-correction or translation is known as a gloss, and a longer addition is known as an interlinear or marginal note, depending on where it is written, though gloss is often used as a catch-all term. This has been common practice for so long that there are many ancient manuscripts that are copies of even older works that painstakingly reproduce the older scribbled notes in formal calligraphy. It is lending libraries that condemn the practice (rightly enough, in that circumstance), not scholars.

"So, the 'Great Crystal Heist' actually happened?" Tempest asked.

"Oh, that? Yes, it happened pretty much the way it's described there. It's actually a fairly well-known story in Equestria. They even made a stage play out of it. Not very accurate from what I've heard, but it had a couple of good songs."

"But… But… You really just let the thieves go?"

"Yes. I'm big on second chances, remember?"

"But they stole hundreds of millions of bits worth of magical gems!"

"Well, it's not like I let them keep those train cars full of gems! I returned those to Celestia—after I took the ten percent recovery fee offered by the Royal Treasury, of course. I'm forgiving, but also very practical."

"But if they weren't punished, what's to prevent them from trying something like it in the future?"

"The gang lost everything they had, setting up that robbery. They spent nearly half a million bits building the hidden siding and hiring a heavy-lift airship to get the cars across the border. They can't afford to try again! Besides, I hired their leader as a—well I guess 'security consultant' covers most of the various things he does for me. He's paid very well, actually."

Tempest glanced down at the book. "Surprise Ambush?"

I laughed. "Oh, that's a pseudonym! What a silly name that would be for a pony. All ambushes are surprises!"

Tempest frowned in thought and I patiently waited for her. Eventually she said, "But the others could raise more money—"

"Tempest, the lesson was absolutely clear. They had a very good plan, I admit that—and they still lost all their money and half a year's hard work in the attempt. They are all ponies who can put two and two together and come to the conclusion that crime doesn't pay."

"Maybe… But I've known gamblers who throw away everything they earn trying for a big win. It doesn't matter how many times they lose, they think that one giant jackpot will make up for all their losses."

I nodded. "Fair point. There are a few ponies who are unreasonable and bad at math. But remember, I said I give everypony a second chance—not a third."

"So there's a point at which you will punish criminals?"

"No. I don't punish, I prevent. I prevent innocents from being harmed by clueless creatures that have proven themselves incapable of civilized behavior. That it sometimes looks like punishment is only coincidence."

"Like you did here?" She pointed at the wreckage beneath us. "I think all those Stormguards would have preferred punishment."

My heart sank. She was right, I had jumped at an opportunity to end the war with one quick blow, wiping out commanders of evil intent alongside their less culpable, possibly even conscripted troops. But I had taken measures just as extreme in the past, following my own philosophy beyond the limits of conventional practice, and (if I am being honest about it) most ponies' understanding.

"Not that I'm criticizing you, Captain! Far from it!" Tempest said after I had remained silent for an uncomfortable amount of time. "I know what the Storm King would have done to Equestria, and in your place, I'd try to wipe out his whole army, too. I'm just trying to understand how you prefer to do things."

I was exhausted and couldn't muster the energy to debate her any longer. "If you figure it out, let me know, okay? I'm going to bed."

= = =

"So, Ralf thought I knew what was down there, and that I was going to slaughter thousands of innocents just to get the Storm King… It was a big mess," I said to Luna. "I've got a tentative agreement with the… Um… Songese? Conundrese? I don't even know what they prefer to call themselves! I'll have to ask Ralf when I wake up!" It was a dream, so I didn't really need to breathe, but I was on the edge of hyperventilating, anyway.

Luna made soothing noises and stroked me with one of her downy-soft wings. "You did well, my love. Nopony can fault you for what you did not know."

"I want to negotiate a treaty between us—I mean Twilight Town and them—but I'm afraid they will only agree out of fear, and that's no basis for long-term cooperation. And then there is the Storm King! What do I do now that he knows I can drop an asteroid on his fleet? He will scatter his ships or moor them next to towns or cities. He'll expect a pursuit and could lay traps…"

She let me go on for a while until I ran out of things to whinge about. She was so soft and seemed to be mostly encircling wings. My tension was bleeding away as I spoke and she continued to caress me.

"My ships will arrive in Seaward Shoals tomorrow evening," Luna whispered into my ear. "Come to me. Nay, I am not being selfish—or only a little. We will make plans together."

I wiggled luxuriously in my silky-feathered cocoon and muttered, "'kay."

If I had any other dreams that night I didn't remember them.

= = =

=

Author's Note

Special thanks to Jordanis for some very subtle, but very important edits to this chapter.

Nebulas, friends, and associates: (Now with useful information!)

Boreal mungteeth are the delightful creation of FanOfMostEverything and are used with permission. More information about them can be found HERE.

2 Reluctant Awakenings

Chapter Two - Reluctant Awakenings

Tempest groaned and stirred. The stubby little yeti looked up from the plate of sweets he had been gobbling, and I looked over the top of my book at her.

Her eyes opened and she blinked rapidly, trying to focus and then understand her surroundings.

"Do you want some water?" I asked, floating a glass with a straw over to her from the sideboard.

She jerked upright and there was a pathetic little fizzle and pop from her horn as she tried to fry me. Then she struggled futilely with her restraints, trying to reach the chain halter that held her suppressor ring in place. Then she tried to blow the suppressor off with sheer brute force. It told me a lot about her that she had even attempted that.

The golden ornamentation of the bedroom threw back little reflections of the tiny sparks she managed to emit, but other than producing a slight whiff of ozone, her efforts achieved nothing.

"Are you done?" I asked. "That ring is pure orichalcum and was made by Clover the Clever herself. Even Celestia wouldn't be able to overpower it."

She squeezed her eyes shut for a moment and then looked around at the room, carefully noting where the windows and doors were located. She looked down at the silk sheets that covered the back half of her body and then kicked them off, revealing the chains that held her to the bed.

The little yeti trotted over to her holding out one of the pastries. "You want a cream cake? They're really good!"

"Get this ring off of me, Grubber! Rip it off!" Tempest screamed at him.

He jumped back and cringed, throwing a frightened glance my way. "I… I'm sorry boss, but I… I can't."

I half expected her to pass out again, given the beating she'd taken and how agitated she'd become, but she simply turned her gaze on me, teeth clenched and bared, and eyes filled with anger.

"Where am I?" she demanded.

I set my book down on the table next to my armchair and stood up. "You—" I said, as I walked over to the bed and loomed over her, "—are in the Twilight Town Embassy in Canterlot. This is sovereign territory, and I'm the sovereign. I hope you're an intelligent mare who can understand exactly what that means for your future health and well-being, because walking you through it step-by-step would be tedious, and I'm really not in the mood."

It was like snuffing out a candle. She just gave up and collapsed, her head hitting the pillow with a soft whump. "It means I'll never get my horn back, now," she said.

"Yes, Grubber told me something about that," I said.

If looks could kill, the little yeti would have been reduced to a fine mist. He wiped frosting off his face and gave Tempest a sheepish grin. "She already guessed most of it, boss!"

"Reconstructing a horn costs a fortune, yes," I said, and my brows furrowed as I stared at her incredulously, "But, attacking the only place in the world that can do the work has got to be the stupidest—"

The mare sat up as much as she could. "Only an immense amount of magic could do it! Don't try and tell me you'd just give away the magic of all four princesses…" She trailed off. I think my exasperated expression and emphatic face-hoof had something to do with it.

"Raw power can't recreate something as intricate as a unicorn's horn." I told her. "It does take powerful magic, yes, but also a lot of specialized knowledge, extremely rare materials, and precise detail work. Our doctors can do it if—"

"Impossible!" Tempest growled. "I searched for years—"

I rolled my eyes and cut her off, "So you don't believe me—an alicorn scholar—but some barbaric yeti warlord who hasn't met more than three unicorns in his entire life is an expert? Yes, it wasn't possible until recently, but magic is not static. The first successful reconstruction was performed two and a half years ago,[1] but since you've been off in foreign lands working as a toady for petty dictators, I guess you hadn't heard." I shook my head in disgust and bit down on my lower lip, trying not to lose my temper.

[1] I ought to know, because I was the one who brought the key matrix back from a neighboring universe.

"I did what I had to," she said, her features falling into an expressionless mask. "I wanted my horn back, and the Storm King was the only one who offered to do it for me. He was the only one who even seemed to care."

I tried to keep my voice as calm and level as possible. "We all make mistakes, and I can sympathize. Next to losing my friends, losing my magic is the worst thing I can imagine."

"I lost my friends because I lost my magic."

I frowned at her. "Earth ponies have friends," I said.

She stared at me for a long moment before turning her head away. "You don't understand."

The mare could have used a couple dozen friendship lessons, but I just shrugged. "Well then, why don't we switch subjects? I'm interested in what information you can give me about the Storm King's armada. How many ships does he have? What sort of weaponry? What are his intentions? Things like that."

"Why should I tell you anything?"

"Why should you be loyal to a creature that lied to you and then set you up for a humiliating failure? Sailing into Canterlot when the entire horn and wing quartet was going to be present was—"

"That was the whole point!" she snarled at me. "We needed all four of you to fully power the Staff of Sacanas! And defeating the mighty alicorns while all those other rulers looked on would have cowed them into submitting to us! It was an ideal plan!"

Well, that was a nice titbit of information. I thought that if I kept her a little angry she might let more things slip. "Except the show you actually put on was of an entire fleet being sunk by a bunch of mares in party dresses. How do you think your king is going to react to that news?"

Grubber nearly choked on a cupcake and Tempest actually laughed. It was a bitter laugh, but it was a laugh.

"Hey," the little yeti asked eagerly. "This is, like, an embassy, right? Howzabout you gimme some of that—whatchacallit—diplomatic immunity? I'm cooperating like mad here!"

"I think you mean political asylum," I replied.

"No! I'm not crazy or nothin'. I just don't want to be around when the Storm King hears about this."

"Grubber, you idiot," Tempest said, wearily. She turned to me. "I had to work my tail off to sell the King on this plan. When he hears about the disaster, he won't want anything to do with Equestria. I'll give you all the information you want, but you're in no further danger from him."

"Mmm," I replied noncommittally. I obviously couldn’t accept Tempest’s assessment unsupported and on the spot. Anyway, even if the warlord was no longer a threat to Equestria, I fully intended to be a threat to him.

"Well, if you intend to cooperate, I suppose I should allow you more freedom of movement." I touched her bonds with my magic, deliberately hesitated, and withdrew.

"Hey!" she cried out, straining at her chains. The steel links were thick, but the bed frame creaked and there was a cracking noise from somewhere beneath the mattress. Stars, but that mare was strong. "Truce, right? Leave the ring on, but let me up."

"Alright," I said, keeping my voice as casual and normal as possible. I hoped my little ploy to play on her impatience had upset her just enough to make it hard for her to lie convincingly. "But give me one little bit of info first."

"Sure, sure!," she replied and tugged at her chains again.

"How do I de-petrify somepony hit by one of those dark magic orbs of yours?" This was the primary question I had really wanted answered all along, of course.

She was desperate to be free of her bonds. She answered without hesitation or any attempt to bargain for the information. "We had some orbs that reverse the spell, but those went down with the ships. I suppose a disruption spell ought to do it, but it'll have to be an extremely powerful one to overcome the amount of mana packed into those potions."

"'Ought to'?" I wasn't ready to relax just yet.

She shrugged.

I supposed that would have to be good enough. I set the tumblers in the lock and opened it, letting the chains slide free. Tempest rolled out of the bed and stretched, making sure to keep her movements slow and non-threatening.

"You have the run of the suite," I told her. "If you need anything, just call for the guard outside the door."

"Aren't you going to stay for my information dump?"

"There are writing tools and paper in the desk over there. Just put down everything you know about the Storm King's military and plans, and I'll go over it later and come up with questions for you."

She looked surprised at this but said nothing. In fact, she made a furtive little shushing gesture at Grubber when it looked like he was going to say something.

I opened the door and stepped half-way through before pausing and turning back. "Oh! I almost forgot. If you leave this suite, your ring will instantly become white hot and stay that way for long enough to burn through your skull, so don't try to escape. If nothing else, think of the poor cleaning staff."

I stepped through the door and gently closed it behind me.

= = =

"Is she furious with me for abducting Tempest?" I asked Spike as we walked toward Celestia's private audience chamber.

He held out a spread paw and wiggled it slightly. "Just miffed, I'd say. She's more worried about Rarity than anything else."

I nodded. "And the others?"

Spike held up his paw again and counted them off on his claws. "Cadance had to calm down the leaders and their delegations. After some of them saw Celestia destroy a magically-armored battleship with one shot, they're almost as afraid of her as they were of the invasion fleet!"

"The bay was open," I explained to him. "Her little sunfire bolt didn't have to penetrate any magic armor. She just detonated it right under the center of the bay and it burned up through the overhead and into the gas cells. She had thermodynamics on her side."

Spike shrugged. "Maybe, but I don't think any of them know that, and it sure looked impressive!"

I sighed. "I'm sure Celestia knew exactly how it would look."

"Luna's just waiting for you to show up. After Celestia figured out you'd made off with that ugly, broken-horned mare, Luna was the one that calmed her down." He paused and thought back. "Said you'd get the information they needed and there wouldn't be any fuss about it or need to worry about 'niceties.' I don't mind telling you, I was pretty upset, too… I mean, not like Xahjir, or anything, but kinda, yeah. But Luna was just so calm and matter-of-fact about it, that we just assumed… You did find out how to get Rarity back, right?"

"Of course," I said.

"I knew you would!" he said cheerfully. His voice was light and confident, but his tight shoulders relaxed and he let out a long breath. "You know, I think Cadance is kinda disappointed she missed out on the action!"

I grinned. "Could be, Spike. She's no lightweight when her instincts kick in. How about the girls?"

"Fluttershy's still gone, but AJ and Dash are…" He hesitated.

"They're okay, right?"

"Oh yeah, yeah! They're fine! They were both bragging about how many yetis they took out, and they didn't seem worried at all. Heck, AJ told me not to worry! Then they… uh... " Was he blushing? It was hard to tell and he quickly changed the subject. "Pinkie's fine, too. She's supervising the clean-up and preparing for tomorrow's celebration."

I was curious about how the festival would continue, and how it would impact the original schedule, but at that moment we entered the hall where the audience room was and I didn't have time to question him further. As long as my friends were okay; that's all that really mattered to me.

The guards opened the doors and announced us. Just a short while before, as the most junior Equestrian princess, and faced with expectant stares from Celestia, Luna, Cadence, and Sultan Xahjir, I would probably have cleared my throat nervously, hesitated, or stuttered, but those days were behind me. I knew exactly the foremost question on their minds, and I didn't make them ask. I didn't even bother with greetings. "The Fail-Safe spell should do it, but I need to have as much supporting power available as possible when I cast it. I think those spheres were designed to overcome alicorn-level magic."

Xahjir exhaled so loudly it was almost a moan. "Bless you a thousand times, Queen Twilight!"

I walked right over and gave him a hug. "Having her back will be blessing enough."

Rarity had been moved to a secure inner chamber nearby, and we wasted no time going there. The spell is simple, but I had to account for certain other magics that were still active and bound to my friend.

It took me several minutes of slowly weaving in the Fail-Safe while Luna fed me raw power to amplify the effect. The actinic glow of her horn threw long, shivering shadows across Celestia and Cadance’s faces as they stood by as backup in case anything went wrong.

The crystal shell was rotten with dark magic, of course, and terribly dangerous to work with. I don't know how or where the Storm King had acquired the corrupted alchemical reagents that created it, but I silently vowed to find the source and eliminate it.

But that wasn't the time for adding to my to-do list. I frowned and concentrated on disabling the magical bonds within the crystals without causing them to click into a self-sustaining relay and detonate.

Lots of power is convenient, but being detail-oriented is what's critical for success with intricate, high level magic. Intent is also important in magic of all sorts, but my pure intent to rescue my friend wouldn't have saved me if I hadn't noticed the reversed chirality of the binding mandala. I would have to simultaneously reverse the flow of the original spell with dark magic while attempting to negate it with light magic.

Well. If it was easy, they wouldn't have asked me to do it.

Luna later said that I caught the tip of my tongue between my teeth at the corner of my mouth, light and dark mana boiling from my eyes and horn as I grappled with the imprisoning spell, "...in a most adorable and terrifying manner." I'm not going to lie; I have somewhat mixed feelings about the glee evident in her observation.

Eventually, with very little ceremony given the powers involved, the black crystal coating safely shattered and sublimated, but it took a lot longer than I had anticipated and left me exhausted as well as relieved.

Rarity was… Well, she was relieved, of course, but several other strong emotions were vying for her attention and she took to expressing them in turns with her usual non-verbal vocalizations and dramatic gestures. Evidently, her connection to the Labyrinthine Crystal Engine[2] was strong enough that it allowed her to see the rest of the battle despite being petrified, and she had—opinions on the situation. Xahjir got the greater part of her attention, and seemed delighted by every outburst, no matter the quality. The rest of us merely looked on in awe and happiness.

[2] It's a long story that can be found (somewhat fictionalized) in a book titled The Twilight Enigma. Suffice it to say that Rarity was a much more magical mare than she appeared to be.

"And the worst part—" Rarity was running down to a conclusion, and most of her speech was perfectly intelligible by then. "—oh, my darlings, the Very. Worst. Part was that I did not get to serve up that nasty mare like a very small cake at a very large party!"

"Oh!" she continued, turning to me. "My precious needles! They are alright, aren't they?"

She meant her five slim sword blades. "Yes," I reassured her. "All cleaned, oiled, and put away in your suite."

"Oh, thank you, dear. You are always so understanding. Now! That mare—Tempest, I believe? Is she—"

"She's alive and has been granted political asylum," I said.

"WHA-A-AT?! Who would do such a thing? Oh, I'll bet it was the griffins! Who elsewould harbor a creature so thoroughly unpleasant as…" Rarity trailed off, staring at Spike, who was pointing a wingtip in my direction. Traitor.

Rarity went absolutely still, and that made everypony extremely nervous. "Darling," she said to me. She made the single word carry several different meanings, one of which was, I am trusting you to provide me with a complete and thorough explanation, and if part of that explanation involves you having made friends with that monster, I will throw a hissy fit of legendary proportions.

"The so-called Storm King that she was working for is some sort of jumped-up warlord from down south." I didn't like giving away my plans before they were half-formed, but I knew better than to cross Rarity when she was in a mood. "I need to get as much information as I can out of her before going after him."

Rarity thought about that for a long moment as she kept me fixed with her eyes. Finally, her face softened slightly, "Do you need somepony to play 'Bad Guard?' Because it wouldn't take much acting on my part."

I didn't have to put much consideration into the decision, because she was right. She'd be perfect. "As long as there's no swordplay involved," I said, grinning.

"No promises, darling!"

= = =

"Here's the deal," Tempest said as we entered the room. "You restore my horn, and then I'll give you every detail I know about the Storm King and his forces."

I guessed she had decided to believe me, after all.

"Counter offer," Rarity said in a happy, musical tone as she came in the door after me. "You give us every detail you know about the Storm King and his forces, and I won't turn you into griffin kibble." Her horn glowed and a dozen small blades whipped out from under her dress and began to spin in the air around her, making a hissing sound.

"I said, 'no swords!'"

"These are knives, dear."

For a wonder, Tempest didn't seem very intimidated. She snorted. "Alicorn of Love, huh? I'm beginning to think Equestria's reputation is a complete smoke screen. Too bad I didn't know that a week ago."

Rarity and I looked at each other in puzzlement.

"Wait, you think she's Princess Cadance?" I said. At the same time, Rarity let out a lady-like squeal of rage.

"First you turn me to stone, and now you attempt to demote me? I am a Sultana, I'll have you know! Equivalent in rank to a queen! And not even a bow when I entered the room?" She turned to me and batted her eyelashes. "Mayn't I stab her just a little bit Twilight? I promise she'll still be able to answer questions afterward."

At that point, Tempest went for the improvised spear she'd made and hidden under the duvet. I nabbed her and floated her over to a clear space in the middle of the room. At the same time, I took Rarity's knives away from her and stacked them neatly on the sideboard. A quick scan of the room revealed Grubber hiding under the desk, and I hauled him out and plopped him down next to Tempest.

I had to spend a little time clarifying the neo-feudal jurisdictional realities for the murderous mare, and her reaction was understandably skeptical.

"So you're not the Princess of Friendship and the Alicorn of Magic?"

"Sometimes I am, but not here and now, which is very lucky for you. As far as Celestia is concerned, you're a vicious brigand and ought to be petrified and plopped into the Royal Sculpture Garden as a warning to future invaders. As her loyal vassal Princess Twilight, I would support her decision completely."

Tempest raised an eyebrow. "But…"

"But, I'm currently acting as the sovereign of a foreign nation, specifically Twilight Town, and you're on my territory where you've been granted political asylum." I paused for effect. "For now."

"Me, too?" Grubber asked. I nodded. "Woo-hoo! Yeah!" He bounced up onto his feet and punched the air. "We're skatin' free!"

I cleared my throat. He stopped bouncing and looked at me doubtfully.

Tempest sighed and shook her head. "Grubber, you idiot." Evidently, the phrase was some sort of mantra for her. "So… This Twilight Town? I've heard of it, but not much more. You named the place after yourself? You and the Storm King would get along."

"No, I didn't," I corrected her. "My subjects are just a bit—enthusiastic about me, that's all."

She cocked her head and stared at me. "Alicorn or not, you still look like a cheerful Equestrian fool. I was told that the Twilight Queen is some kind of monster."

Rarity burst out laughing at that point. "Oh, you have no idea! That's like calling Mount Everhoof some kind of hill!"

I was a little bit stung by the comment. "Hey! I'm not that bad!"

She leaned over and gave me a brief hug. "'Bad' is not the word I would ever use, dear. Perhaps... 'effective and efficient without regard to delicate sensibilities?'"[3]

[3] She was quoting me. It was the phrase I'd suggested as a substitute for the Bey of Marerocco's description of me as, 'utterly vicious and terrifying' when I got rid of his corsair problem for him. Turning a mare's own weapons against her is completely unfair—and one of Rarity's specialties.

Tempest remained silent for a while and then said, "Alright, let's continue negotiations, Your Majesty. Here's a freebie for you: Twilight Town is on the Storm King's list, and it's not far from the top, either."

= = =

3 Celebrating Survival

Chapter Three - Celebrating Survival

Not many ponies know it, but I often have nightmares. Luna fends off some, but not most of them. She says they're good for me. It sounds counter-intuitive, but I've learned through hard experience and a few unpleasant arguments that she's absolutely right.

My nightmares are of failure. Failing my friends and failing my responsibilities. Watching ponies and other creatures suffer and sometimes die because I wasn't strong enough, smart enough, or determined enough is horrible, but it certainly makes me want to be stronger, smarter, and more determined.

When Luna appears in one of my nightmares, it's usually to give me a do-over. She won't erase the scenario created by my subconscious anxiety, but she gives me the chance to make better choices a second time around. Or a third.

It's not pleasant, but she's right; it helps.

That night, I watched armored yetis swarm over Canterlot, leaving black stone statues in place of ponies I knew and loved. Yes, my stupid brain seemed to have decided that I needed to relive and lose a battle I had already won.

Luna appeared and held up her hoof in an imperious gesture. Everyone stopped what they were doing and stood still, watching her expectantly. She surveyed the scene for a moment and then turned to me and tilted her head. I normally find that pose of hers charming, but I was just a bit frustrated.

"What? You expect me to be able to explain this? I think I did pretty well, considering the circumstances."

She didn't say anything in reply, but bent down and took hold of the pavement in her teeth. She flung her head up and the scenery rippled and pulled away like a painted canvas tarp. Beneath Canterlot castle was Vagabond House. Beneath the gold and white marble buildings of the High Street was the hodge-podge of brick and half-timber warrens that made up the oldest neighborhood of Twilight Town.

"Oh," I said. "Yeah. Okay, that makes more sense, I guess. Garden-variety anxiety dream."

"The question you must ask yourself is why you would clothe your realm in the trappings of Celestia's. Perhaps you regret your decision—"

"No! No, I've never regretted it! And Twilight Town isn't my realm. It's anarchy, pure and simple. I don't rule it. The "Queen" business is a convenient fiction. Just because they look to me for guidance and I'm powerful enough to… Wait. You said Celestia's realm! Equestria is your realm too!"

"Ah." Luna blinked and shuffled her hooves. "That is of no import. 'Tis of thee we are speaking."

Luna tends to slide back into Middle Equish when she's emotional, and that alone told me that her slip of the tongue 'twas of some importance. But she was right in that getting my own head straight was the primary concern at the moment. That didn't mean I was going to forget her little "mistake," though.

"Okay, okay! Yes, I am worried about the Town. But what Tempest has told me so far means the Storm King is a danger to half the world and not just my little so-called realm. But the Town means so much to…" I sighed, “Yeah, I think I'm getting the point now. I've got a choice to make." I sighed and woke up.

Luna was still there, wings wrapped around me, with her velvet-soft lips nibbling at my throat. I sighed again and lifted my head a touch. She almost made me forget her comment in the dream. Almost.

We showered and loaded ourselves up with all of our fanciest regalia. I made sure to recharge the gems in my crown and I took the extra precaution of hiding a few unfriendly items under my bejeweled caparison. I don't think there's ever been a kingdom in history that's been invaded twice on successive days, but knowing my luck, I wasn't going to take any chances.

The long negotiation/interrogation session with Tempest the previous evening had convinced me of a couple of things. Despite being powerful and ruthless, the single driving force behind her actions was the desire to restore her horn. Since I had convinced her that the only place in the world that could grant that desire was the Magical Prosthetics department at the Royal School of Thaumic Medicine, I was confident that she would defend Canterlot with her life—at least until she had the ability to control her magic again. Then, all bets were off.

So, I'd invited her to the party.

Several ponies/creatures thought I'd gone insane.

Pinkie demanded that I "double-dumpling" guarantee that Tempest wouldn't mess up her party—again, and Rarity… Well, the only way I could get Rarity to go along with it was to make her part of the plan. She got her revenge in a very Rarity sort of way.

= = =

"Can you make that—" I pointed at Tempest's chain halter and suppressor ring. "—look like jewelry? And maybe make her a dress of some sort? Simple, but elegant?"

"A dress?" Tempest almost snarled at Rarity as she approached.

"Oh, no, no, no, darling!" Rarity said, violently shaking her head. "A dress on her would look like a parasol on a steam engine!"

Tempest put her weight on her back hooves and frowned, probably trying to decide whether or not she ought to be offended.

Rarity marched right over to her and looked her up and down. "No, dear, if you want her dressed for a party, we shall have to go the Barbaric Splendor route. Something like Princess Chrysalis' little platinum chains outfit but—thicker and in gold. Maybe with a lightly quilted demi-caparison. Hmmm…" She trotted over to Tempest's right side and stared at her head.

"It's a shame about the scar. She has quite a beautiful face otherwise."

Wow. Rarity could be catty on occasion, but that was uncharacteristically mean of her, even considering that the target of her metaphorical claws was a mare who had intended to petrify and parasitize her.

Tempest's eyes went wide and then narrowed down to slits. "I'm standing right here!"

"So you are, dear. Excellent posture, too! Do you fence?"

Tempest quite frankly had no idea what to make of Rarity. "Sometimes, I stab creatures who annoy me. Does that count?"

"Only if they're trying to stab you back." Rarity replied, absently. Then her eyes went wide. "Oooh! Ideeeea! What if we give her a nice bejeweled blade on top of the suppressor ring? That will give her a wonderful profile!"

"Uhm…" I knew that Rarity sometimes needed to be reined in when in the grip of her muse. "You plan on giving her a weapon?"

"Oh, just a little one! Besides, look at these muscles!" She poked Tempest's shoulder with a hooftip. "And she's nearly as tall as Luna. Even unarmed, she could kick the head off a Royal Guard before they could level a spear at her! She's not going to be a problem because she's not an idiot." Rarity turned back to Tempest. "Isn't that right, dear?"

Tempest's face scrunched up in confusion. "Is it weird that I can't decide whether to hoofbump you or trample you?"

"Neither is appropriate," Rarity said in a matter-of-fact tone. "But don't worry, you'll be playing une bonne sauvage, so ponies will undoubtedly give you the benefit of the doubt for any little faux pas you may commit." She turned and trotted for the door, turning her head just enough to toss a last parting shot. "You can, of course, bow as I exit."

Tempest was still sputtering as the door closed.

= = =

Quite a lot of the crowd (and the delegates, for that matter) were frightened of Tempest, but there were enough who tolerated her company that she quickly relaxed. She was a big hit with the griffins and dragons. We had her closely watched, of course, and the outfit that Rarity had made for her had several spells woven into the various gems that could be triggered remotely. We weren't idiots, either.

Her little sidekick, Grubber, seemed mainly concerned with eating as much as possible while staying in Tempest's protective wake. When he passed out, I made sure he didn’t have any cake lodged in his throat and teleported him back to his bed in the embassy.

Tempest watched me do it, and then gave me a considering look. "I think that's the happiest I've ever seen him."

"He doesn't really seem the type to fit in with a conquering military force," I replied, wistfully remembering Spike's younger days.

She shrugged. "Grubber has a sadistic streak, and the Storm King likes underlings who can appreciate his so-called style."

"You don't strike me as a mare who savors cruelty."

She gave a start at that and narrowed her eyes at me. "I have no respect for weakness, or creatures who have over-blown ideas about their place in the world." She looked away again. "I admit that I enjoy pointing out the foolishness of their illusions when necessary, but I'm never needlessly cruel, no. Cruelty is for weaklings."

"Hah!" Came a shout from above as Luna glided down to the street, giving Tempest a companionable wing-slap between the shoulders that staggered the mare. "Well said, i'sooth! 'Tis well that a warrior be as kind in peace as she is fierce in battle!"[1]

[1] Luna's Modern Equish deserts her under the influence of strong drink as well as stress, but I was fairly sure she was not quite as inebriated as she seemed. Having had more than my share of cider that evening, I felt eminently qualified to pass judgment on the issue.

Tempest straightened up and looked her over for a brief moment before giving her a formal, if shallow bow. "Princess Luna."

"Commander Tempest Shadow, if I have it aright? As the Princess of the Night and all things that thrive in darkness, 'tis a name I favor well!"

I couldn't help myself. I leaned over to her and said quietly, "As I recall, you also enjoy a good tempest from time to time."

Luna roared with laughter and the goblet full of mead wobbled in her magical grasp. She slapped Tempest's side with a wing and said, "Wit, as well as strength and beauty! This mare is surely the summit of creation!" She gave me a long look from under lowered lashes that made my knees go weak.

Tempest was bewildered, and I didn't blame her. "Uh—sure. She's great."

Luna suddenly turned and loomed over her.. "Well, then! Admire her as you must, or worship her as do the wise, but know this, and know it well." Luna's mane and tail went pitch black, the little stars flaring and going out as the edges became as ragged and sharp as broken glass. Her voice came out as a predatory snarl that any dragon would have been proud of. "She is mine."

Tempest had barely time to take one surprised step backward before Luna shifted back to her cheerful, tipsy self, gave me a sloppy kiss on the mouth, and rocketed back up into the night sky.

"Sorry about that," I said, still watching my sweet, archaic lover soar over the city. "She gets a little jealous once in a while." I looked down and saw that Tempest was also staring upward. "You should take it as a compliment, really. She's pretty dismissive of most creatures as rivals, but you're… Uhmn…" Was I blushing? I had had a bit to drink myself, but surely not that much. "Well, I have a type, you know?"

Tempest looked down and frowned at me. "Not interested," she said.

Was I a little bit offended? Surely not. "Oh good! That means you won't end up in Tartarus trapped in an eternal nightmare." I paused and pretended to consider. "Well, not for attempted poaching, anyway."

Tempest squinted at me. "You… You're serious, aren't you?"

I laughed dismissively. "Oh, no! I really can't imagine you'd do anything that would make us go that far. You're a reasonable pony."

"Reasonable, yes," she said, flatly.

I walked with her for another hour or so, and formally introduced her to Ao, Spike, and Khaatarrekket, as well as many of my less unusual friends. The conversations ranged from light to intense, but they were all interesting. Eventually, Tempest and I found ourselves away from the crowd, near the edge of the great plaza, looking out over the moonlit Canter Valley.

"How do you do it?" Tempest asked suddenly. "How do you all get along and work together?"

The answer to that was one of the reasons I'd proposed the International Friendship Festival in the first place. Teaching by example. "It's pretty simple, really. We discovered that getting along was the easiest and most pleasant way to live. Some found out the hard way, but they all eventually learned that friendship is more fun and rewarding than just about anything else."

Tempest turned slightly and raised an eyebrow at me. "All?"

Cynical old nag. I was starting to like her despite myself. "Okay, not quite all," I admitted. "But, most of the others realized that polite avoidance worked fairly well in place of actual respect, and the few who stubbornly refused to get the message…" I trailed off.

"Tartarus?" She still seemed skeptical.

I stared her right in the eyes and didn't blink. "I've put some there with my own hooves, and worse."

"You aren't joking."

"Not at all."

She nodded and turned back to the view. "I wish my information had been better. It does make more sense now."

"What does?"

She waved a hoof. "Equestria. A nation as soft and weak as it appears to be should have been overrun long ago, but it's just the same as any other place. Your mighty ones make the rules and the rest obey, or else. You ponies just cover it up with singing, candy, and ice cream."

I sighed. "It's not like that. Equestria does have ponies like me to defend it, but we rarely interfere in other ponies' lives directly. You can see how happy they are." I waved a wingtip back toward the center of the plaza where Songbird was just starting another set.

Tempest gave me a crooked smile. "Sure. Everypony likes ice cream."

The last thing I had intended was to get into a philosophical debate with her, so I just shrugged and said, "Whatever it is, it works for us."

Tempest stared at me for a long time, her eyes narrowing. I began to feel uncomfortable but not threatened. Not exactly. "So—" she finally said, "—they're happy. But what about you?"

I gaped at her. "Me? What… Why would you think I'm not happy?"

She kept staring at me. "Just a hunch. From what your long kirin pal told me, you were once on course to take over this place from Celestia. Now you've got a little kingdom of your own that you keep insisting you don't rule. Sounds like you're dodging something to me."

I could have easily come up with a dozen devastating counter arguments, but I was a little too inebriated to do them justice in even an informal debate. "Oh, I think you're far better at dodging than I am, Tempest. I really thought I had you with that chunk of pillar."

That got a surprised bark of laughter out of her. "Like I said, Princess, I wish I had gotten way better intelligence before I rolled up here expecting a pushover."

"Well—" I gave her my sweetest public relations smile and batted my eyelashes at her. "—now you know!" I gestured to the food stalls on the periphery of the crowd with a toss of my head. "Ice cream?"

She grinned back. "You're buying."

= = =

=

5 Seeing is Disbelieving

Chapter Five - Seeing is Disbelieving

After sealing the doors and casting a privacy spell over the room, I turned to Cadance and said, "A vision? Really?"

She frowned at me. "You're not very pleasant when you're playing the Bandit Queen, Twilight. You were very terse with everypony back there."

I took a very deep breath, and then slowly exhaled, using the unnecessary, but ritually satisfying hoof motion that she had taught me so long ago. I wanted her to know that I was upset, but was being patient with her. "I wasn't playing, Cadance. I was being the Captain, and all my friends understand that. I'm sorry if a bit of that carried over into our conversation. Shall we start over?"

I turned to Spike who was watching us both with a bit of concern. "Spike, could you take notes for me? General outline, any significant details, you know the stuff."

He had a pad and quill in his claws before I finished speaking. "Aye-aye, Captain!" he said, giving me a little salute with the feathered end of his quill.

Cadance briefly stared at him like he'd grown a second head.[1]"This is not a joke, Twilight! Visions must always be taken seriously. However they come to us, they are always a true warning of approaching danger."

[1] Which is a distinct possibility for some breeds of dragon, but a fortunately rare occurrence.

"I wouldn't know. I mean… Would it surprise you to learn that I've never had a vision? I know Celestia and Luna have them, but I thought the phenomenon was limited to them and a few crazy oracles living in caves." Far too late to recall the words that had just exited my mouth, I realized what I had said. "Uhmn… No offense," I added sheepishly.

She ignored my implied insult. "I've always had them; even when I was a young pegasus, and they’ve always guided me well. I… I don't know why you haven't had any. I assumed all alicorns did, eventually."

Considering the depths of my dislike for vague prophetic nonsense in general, I wasn't surprised at my lack of unhelpful visions, but I didn't say that out loud. I shrugged. "Maybe someday," I said, hoping that day would never come. "So, what happened in your dream—ah, I mean vision?"

She hesitated and licked her lips nervously. She squeezed her eyes shut and took a deep breath before speaking. "It was very unpleasant. A huge, evil creature stood over the world, one foot on the Yaket Range, one on the Kentaurus Mountains." Spike began scribbling furiously.

"Bestriding the world," I muttered to myself, nodding. "So a global threat, not just to Equestria. Go on."

"He was reaching down, ripping glowing pieces out of the land. Ponies—" Cadance hesitated, her mouth stretching out into a tight, thin line. I could see that she was truly distressed by the mere memory of her vision. She took a deep breath, nostrils flaring, and then continued. "—and other creatures were being thrown aside, falling and screaming. He tore open the Crystal Palace and your home in Twilight Town. He even ripped the top of Mount Everhoof off, and raked up a huge island in the Southern Ocean.

I glanced at Spike and he nodded. He was getting it all down. "Okay," I said. "Specific locations, that's good. What else? Did you see Canterlot?"

"I saw him reaching for Canterlot at the end, but the vision ended there." Her jaw muscles jumped as she clenched her teeth. She hadn't looked at me the whole time she was speaking and seemed to be barely in control of her emotions.

I didn't want to add to her distress, but there were several questions I had to ask. "Did you get a clear idea of what he looked like? I'm thinking this may be a warning that the Storm King is a bigger threat than I imagine."

"Huge," Cadance said, thinking hard. "Thick, shaggy fur. Big horns. He was mostly in shadow, so I couldn't see much but his outline. Does that sound like him?"

That's right, she hadn't seen the banner with his portrait on it before it went down in flames with the rest of the flagship. "Yeah, that sounds like him. Anything else? Details might be important."

"Those places he destroyed seemed very significant," Cadance continued. “More than just being familiar to me."

"Any idea about Mt. Everhoof or the island? The others are pretty obvious; they're places he can find powerful magical artifacts. That seems to be his prime motivation."

Cadance shook her head. "They felt important, but there were no specifics."

I forced myself not to snort in disgust. Visions. Prophecies. Useless, vague mis-information, more like. If Cadance had come to me the day before the Festival with this warning, it might have done some good. Sure, it was a nice confirmation that the Storm King was not going to give up on his plans just because we'd bloodied his snoot for him, but I didn't intend to give him the opportunity to continue any longer than was absolutely necessary, anyhow.

"Well, it seems like the best plan is to deal with him as soon as possible," I said. "Which just so happens to be my plan already. Convenient, isn't it?"

"I have the feeling you aren't taking this seriously, Twilight." Cadance frowned at me.

I sighed and put my hoof to my forehead. "Cady, my intent is to hunt him down and kill him along with any of his officers that seem capable of continuing with his insane ambition. How much more serious should I be?"

Cadance reared back. "You mean you're actually going to outright murder him?"

I stared right into her eyes. "Yes. That is exactly what I'm going to do. No fair fight, no trial, no negotiations, no mercy. I'm going to erase him and his thugs from the world as quickly and efficiently as possible."

"Twilight!" Cadance cried out. She flung her forelegs and wings around me and pulled me into a ferocious hug. "Oh, thank you, thank you! I was so worried that you'd want to go sailing in with your little airship, flying flags and waving cutlasses like it was some sort of game! I'm so glad you've finally seen sense about this."

That must have been an extraordinary vision! The Alicorn of Love was suddenly onboard with a straight-up assassination? I really wanted to ask for her reasoning, but I honestly couldn't see any beneficial outcome from questioning her, so I just hugged my sister-in-law back, gritted my teeth, and took the win. Sometimes, you have to make allowances for the idiosyncrasies of family.

= = =

Speaking of family, I had arranged to have tea with my parents, and while I was making sure everything was set up properly on the balcony facing the palace, one of the embassy stewards interrupted me by quietly clearing his throat.

"Yes?"

"Pardon me, ma'am. I know your parents will be arriving shortly, but there is a pony in the foyer who insists that she needs to see you immediately on extremely urgent business. Her name is Moondancer."

That was odd. I'd seen her on the day of the festival—well, the first, abortive day, just before Tempest and the hairy thunderers had shown up, and we'd had a nice little catch-up chat. I hadn't seen her that evening, but I'd made sure that she wasn't on any of the casualty lists. I couldn't think what might be so urgent. Maybe there was a friend who had been hurt that she thought I might help in some way?

"Send her in," I told the steward.

A moment later Moondancer galloped into the room, mane and tail in disarray, floating an untidy wad of papers next to her. "Twilight! I'm so glad I caught you! Oh, um…" She attempted a bow before she had quite finished moving, and nearly tumbled rump over horn.

I caught her, her papers, and her glasses in my magic, and gently sat her down before me.

"Sorry, sorry! But I had a brainstorm and I need to tell you about it right away!" She pushed her papers into a rough pile with her front hooves while using her magic to replace and adjust her glasses. "It's the same thing all over again isn't it?"

I had no idea what she was talking about, so I gave her a non-committal, "Mm."

"But I've come up with a way to fix it!" She looked up from her papers and pushed her glasses up her muzzle again. "Hey, are you taller?"

I smiled at her and said, "Take a deep breath and let it out slowly, then tell me what this—" I waved a hoof over the stack of papers. "—is all about."

She skipped the breathing exercise and dove right in. "Stealing magic! I mean, this—" she wheezed out the last word and then had to gasp for a breath.

"If you're here to steal my magic, you're going to have to wait in line," I told her with a grin. "I think it's become a fad."

"That's it, exactly!" she shouted.

"You're going to try to steal my magic? Really?"

"No, no! The fad thing! It's like everypony… uh… everycreature, or… is 'everymonster' a word? Anyway, everyone seems to want to steal our magic! How many times has it been now?"

"I've lost count."

"Right! So we need to do something about it!"

I was about to assure Moondancer that I was planning on doing something about it,[2] but she had the bit in her teeth and rushed on.

[2] Without going into details about hypersonic chunks of rocks, lightning storms, and magically focused gravity blades. Moondancer had been born in Canterlot, and aside from the occasional monster attack, had lived the sheltered life of a scholar there. I didn't want to shock her.

"This—" She stomped on the pile of paper. "—is the answer! I've come up with a way to stop it once and for all!'

Well. That was intriguing. "Go on."

"What if we steal it first? No, don't look at me that way, I mean it! You can use power from an amulet, a taewidha, right? So what if you put all of your power into a specially designed amulet and then just drew it from there as needed? The power storage could be synchronized via milliwave raptor entanglement, and locked into the substrate of the gemstone so that it couldn't be extracted all at once like Tirek did! Only ponies attuned to the matrix would be able to draw on it! It wouldn't even need to be anywhere near you, and that could be done with everypony! The whole kingdom! I'd have to work out the—"

I lay down next to her pile of formulae and diagrams. "Show me."

She shuffled the papers into order and spread them across the balcony floor. "Okay, so we know the spell matrix variations for the extraction process—"

Mom and Dad arrived sometime later, took one look at the scattered papers and the several pin and chalk boards I'd teleported in, and seated themselves at the table without interrupting. They told me later that it had been a very nice tea, and asked if maybe we could get together for a late supper or early breakfast.

"I am so sorry, Mom! I'll have the chef make a really nice dinner for us…" I remembered that I was scheduled to have dinner with Luna. "Oh, ah, do you mind if Luna joins us?"

"Not at all dear!" She smiled and kissed me on the cheek. "If you're still busy then, your father and I can catch up with her while you work. But do remember to eat something, won't you? There's a whole platter of sandwiches left on the table. I'm sure Moondancer could use some food as well."

Moondancer looked up at the mention of her name. "Oh hi, Ms. Twi, Mr. Twi! When did you get here?"

= = =

It turned out I did have a nice, leisurely dinner with my parents and Luna after all.

After a few more hours of thaumic engineering speculation, I was convinced that Moondancer's plan was entirely possible, and had begun to have thoughts about the repercussions of success. That avenue of thought soon became a tangled warren of dim alleyways and I decided to call it a night.

I heaped well-deserved praise on Moondancer, not just because she had earned it, but also to take the sting out of what I had to do to her.

"Please sign here and—here." I told her, pointing to the spaces marked on the form with little horseshoes.

"Royal Secrets Act?" She frowned at the clipboard. "Is this really necessary?"

"Just a formality, Moony,'' I told her breezily as I stuffed all the research papers into a thaumically neutral envelope, and closed it with an official ambassadorial magic seal. "As soon as I take care of the Storm King, I'll come back and we can dig into this again. It'll be fun!"

She smiled at me, a little doubtfully, and signed the form.

I walked her out and hugged her goodbye. When she was out of sight, I stepped just outside of my embassy grounds to add my official Equestrian Royal Seal to the envelope, and then went directly to the armored vault in the basement and placed it in a static spatial fold that was heavily booby trapped.

In the half hour before dinner I dictated a to-do list to Spike.

"Twi? I'm spelling some of these words phonetically, because I have no idea what they mean. Are you sure you don't want to write this list yourself?" he asked, squinting down at the scroll in his claws.

I reached over and ruffled his head frill with my wing tip. "Your misspellings couldn't possibly be less intelligible than my atrocious quillwork! Besides, I think that's the last item." I pretended to think for a moment. "Maybe add, 'Make sure there's a big amethyst cobbler for dessert tonight.'"

He grinned at me. "Really?"

I smiled back. "Maud sent a crate of choice specimens up from Ponyville last week."

"Spicy ones?"

"That's what she said."

He licked his chops, his tongue practically wrapping all the way around his snout. "Oh, I gotta send her a thank you note in the morning!"

Dinner was wonderful. I suppose having just survived a potentially deadly invasion made me appreciate a quiet evening with family more than I usually would have, but it really was fun, and my parents stayed late. I finally shooed them out when Dad couldn't keep himself from yawning, and had a couple of embassy guards escort them home. It was completely unnecessary in the upper city, my mother insisted, and I agreed with her and sent them anyway.

"She is a delightful mare, your mother," Luna said as we stood at the gate, watching as they walked out of sight down the High Street.

"She loves you to distraction, you know," I told Luna, leaning against her luxuriously muscled shoulder.

"Ah! Also a mare of taste it seems."

I would have bitten her on the ear, but I couldn't quite reach, so I made do with nuzzling the corner of her jaw.

She made a happy sound deep in her throat and then sighed. "I wish I was accompanying you."

We'd discussed it, but the possibility of having one of the diarchs of the most powerful kingdom in the world exposed on what was a blatant assassination mission aimed at another head of state… Well, if I may indulge in a vast understatement, it would look bad.

"Sorry," I muttered into her neck.

"Well," she sighed, "I suppose, on this last night together, I shall have to endeavor to ensure you do not forget me while gallivanting in foreign lands."

"As if I ever—eep!"

Luna swept me up in one wing and effortlessly slung me over her back. She spun and trotted toward my suite. When I tried to wiggle off, she swatted me on my rump and growled, "Be still thou pirate wench! Memories await!"

= = =

=

6 Embarkation

Chapter Six - Embarkation

Canterlot Yards was busier than usual. Spike and I had put on our disguise amulets just after leaving the embassy so that we could trot along without interruption, and hardly a pony looked our way as we entered through the big front gates. The chemical smells of varnish, solvent, boiling tar, paint, engine grease, and envelope dope assaulted my nostrils as the shouting of apprentice shipwrights, riggers, crane chiefs, and other bustling workponies assaulted my ears. Gudgeon, the master shipwright, glanced up from the half-model on his workbench that he was scrutinizing, nodded to me, and muttered, "Cap'n," around the thick carpenter's pencil he had clenched between his teeth.

All the tension in my neck and shoulders immediately bled away. "Master Gudgeon," I replied. He nodded again and went back to his model, and I trotted past the boatshed to the slipway assigned to Nebula. Spike followed along behind me, nearly hidden beneath my large sea chest. I had told him that I could float it along behind us easily enough, but he insisted he wanted to carry it. To his credit, he did so easily. My little brother was growing up, and I suspected he wanted everypony to notice how strong he'd gotten.

I wasn't surprised to find most of her crew hard at work, because by the time I arrived, it was after lunch. Luna had kept me up very late, and then complained bitterly when I tried to get up and get going in the morning.

"The hour is obscene, my love!" she had grumbled and cinched her forelegs tighter around my barrel. "'Tis not yet noon!"

I chuckled softly, but still gently untangled myself before kissing her on the tip of her muzzle as I slid out of bed.

She had been absolutely correct; I should have stayed in bed. There were dozens of letters waiting for me: mostly impractical requests for my time, but also some ridiculous demands and a couple of offers of marriage.[1] I spent an irritating hour dictating replies to Spike while we both snatched a hurried breakfast.

[1] One letter managed to be both of those, and got placed in the special out-box for more direct handling by some very specific ponies.

Nebula's envelope sagged slightly in its stays, the gas cells inside only inflated enough to take half her weight while her hull rested on a huge slipway carriage. Several workers were clomping along low scaffolding attached to the carriage, busily inspecting Nebula's ballast valves and other through-hull fittings.

On her larboard side, there was a big chandler's wagon loading crates into a net attached to a jury-rigged crane from the main deck above. Standard procedure was to fly over to the chandlery pier after a refit or repairs and load supplies there, but I assumed that Ao and Ket were crowding the schedule in order to get us ready for departure as soon as possible.

Around to starboard there was a boarding gangway where other ponies were coming and going with smaller packages of goods. I followed a big earth pony up to the main deck.

"Welcome aboard, Captain!" Ao called out to me from the quarterdeck where she was supervising the crew working on the lift control housing. I had planned on a week or two in Canterlot for a significant refit. The work had barely begun when the Storm King's fleet had arrived to rearrange our priorities, and now everything was being hurriedly put back in place and restored to the original configurations.

"Things are going as well as may be expected. This one is confident all will be in order by this evening," she continued, as I climbed the short ladder from the waist to the quarterdeck to join her.

"Any chance they got those additional speaking tubes installed?"

"Alas no, Captain." She gestured at the starboard rail where there was a line of empty notches and brass mounts. "But the fittings are in place, and Ms. Khaatarrekket has taken the tubing and other necessary pieces into stores. It is a job that may perhaps be done by the crew while underway."

"Good thinking. Can we—" I was interrupted by a metallic clatter from somewhere forward and a frustrated canine yowl. I turned and saw our new engineer, a rather small, sandy-colored diamond dog, perched on the number one engine pod. He was propped against the open cowling hatch and furiously yanking at something inside.

I turned to Ao, raised an eyebrow, and asked, "What is that dog doing to my ship?"

"This one is not entirely sure, Majesty,[2] but this one gathers that he is in the process of being professionally outraged by our capabilities in regards to engine maintenance."

[2] Ao will usually manage to force herself to call me "Captain" while onboard, but sometimes she forgets.

"This—" the dog howled as he finally managed to yank a complicated part out of the engine space, "—this thing is garbage!" He flung the part over his shoulder. It went overboard, fell to the slipway apron with a metallic smack, skittered over the edge, and headed for the Canter Valley a long way below us. "They bought parts in Klugetown or found them lying in a gutter, maybe?" The last wasn't aimed at anyone in particular; it seemed to be part of a running interior monologue that the dog couldn't quite manage to keep to himself.

"Mr. Ralf!" I called out to him. "Might I remind you that we must be underway tonight?"

"Ah, captain ma'am." His large ears swiveled straight up, and he saluted, leaving a diagonal smear of grease above his right eye. "Number One is a good engine. He doesn't deserve bad parts! Ralf will fix him up, very soon!" He smiled fondly at the partially dismantled drive train and patted it gently. "Good engine," he said to it, his bushy tail wagging. He then dove back into his work, pointed snout first.

Until Ralf came aboard, we had never had a full-time engineer. Nebula could sail quite well, and having four engines meant that even at the peak of our privateering adventures we always made it back to a shipyard with one or two functioning acceptably.

But things change, and hiring him had seemed like a good idea at the time.

"Anything else I should know?" I turned back to Ao, determined to leave the engineering in supposedly expert paws, no matter how doubtful I felt about the matter.

She gave me a concise but thorough rundown of the current state of my airship while Spike unpacked my sea chest[3] in my cabin.

[3] Yes, despite Nebula being an airship, her crew had sea chests and sea bags to carry their belongings. Naval and aeronautical traditions and terminology have murky antecedents, and it's best not to question them overmuch unless you like getting long and improbable lectures from old sailors as to why something that is obviously a piece of rope is actually a "line", and why a particular line is actually a "sheet". It doesn't help that the seat boards in the sterns of small craft are also called sheets, or that calling a sail a sheet seems perfectly logical, but in fact is a horrible gaff that marks one out as an absoluter duffer. It's like Pinkie Sense; a wise pony just goes along with it and doesn't bother asking fruitless questions about the whys and wherefores of the matter.

= = =

I spent a couple of hours examining Nebula from stem to stern, keel to topmast, casting a gimlet eye on… well, everything. It's not that I didn't trust Ao, or any of the ponies that reported to her. Knowing my first officer as well as I did, I assumed she had done exactly the same. But it never hurts to have confirmation of thirdhoof information, and there were certain special stores that only I had access to.

Along the way I got to chat with each of the girls, busy at their own self-appointed tasks. Their various situations being as they were, none of them were in the normal line of command, and were listed in the rota as supercargos[4], so they worked at whatever jobs they thought needed doing.

[4] Supercargo is perhaps a term that needs explaining. It is a portmanteau of "supervisor of cargo" and once strictly meant a representative of the owner of a cargo being transported. (Usually onboard to ensure against pilfering or poor stowage.) In modern usage it has become a catch-all term for crew who are an integral part of the airship's operation for a variety of reasons, but do not fit into the traditional rank hierarchy. When Pinkie Pie first learned of her new title of convenience, she wanted to make a red cape with a big blue "SC" embroidered on it, and was terribly disappointed to learn that her new rank didn't convey any sort of outlandish superpowers.

Nebula's galley wasn't a separate enclosed space, it was a loosely defined area forward of the big iron cookstove that stood on granite tiles set into the forward end of the crew deck. The bulkhead that separated it from the forward storage lockers was completely covered with cabinets where most of the provisions were kept.

I expected to find Pinkie Pie there, but it seemed as if almost all of the supplies had already been stowed away, and only Applejack was there, finishing up the job.

"That's a right pretty tune yer humming, Twi," AJ said, looking up from the kegs of apple cider vinegar she was securing against the inner hull between two ribs with a light net and a springline. "What's the name o' that song?"

"Huh?" I hadn't realized that I had been humming, and I had to give it some thought. "Oh, it's a dance tune; very old. Luna likes it and plays it on her lute sometimes. I can't remember the name, I'm afraid."

"Well, y'oughta hum it fer Pinkie until she can play it on her squeeze box. Be nice to have s'more tunes to dance to."

"What? You don't like endless sea shanties?"

"Yer the one who always calls for Cider Before Breakfast, Captain, ma'am," she said with a sly grin.

I laughed. "Guilty as charged! I'll pull Pinkie aside when I get a chance."

= = =

Tempest and Grubber had been given a tiny cabin to themselves, and they seemed content to stay out of the way of the bustling crew. I poked my head in to see if there was anything they needed, and found to my surprise that Tempest still had the suppressor ring chained to her horn.

I frowned. "Why didn't the guards remove that when they brought you aboard?"

She shrugged. "There was some debate about exact orders. The big brave stallions decided it would be safer to let you do it."

I unlocked the chain and released the cams in the ring without comment, stowing the lot in a pocket of my greatcoat.

"Will I be getting my armor back?" Her voice was low and carefully neutral.

"I've got a large set of aeronaught's armor that ought to fit you with a few adjustments. I'll have your cutie mark engraved on the croupiere if you like." I glanced at the stylized design on her thigh. It might have been taken for three blossoms or fireworks bursts, or the sort of symbols that comic books used to indicate hoof hits. Probably that last one, I decided.

"I'm used to my old rig," she said with a bit more emphasis.

I sympathized with her, I really did. A pony's armor is a very personal and intimate thing, and I was sure she'd hate what I'd done to hers. Oh well, I told myself, I might as well rip the bandage off.

"Sorry, but I'm stripping it down to analyze and hopefully reverse-engineer that clever reactive defense built into it," I told her. "Not that I'd let you put hoof on my deck with the Storm Drain's mark on you, anyway."

She jerked her head up in surprise, and then tried not to laugh. It made her face go all scrunchy. It was, frankly, adorable.

Grubber had no such restraint. He laughed until he fell out of his bunk. "Ha, ha, ha! Storm Drain! Ha, ha! Oh brother! He'd have you skinned alive if he heard you say that!"

That casual comment made me a little bit more comfortable with my intention to murder the brute.

= = =

By the time the sun was sinking low in the sky, Nebula's gas cells were completely filled and tight in their shrouds. I walked both the dorsal and ventral catwalks that stood between the cells and her outer envelope and tested every one with a slight tug of my magic. I met Fluttershy near cell #2's main vent, where she was sniffing gently at the seal.

"All in order there?"

"Oh yes! I'm just double-checking." She turned to me, beaming. "Nebby is in wonderful shape. I can feel how eager she is to get flying again."

I reached out and gently brushed the Wheel of the Moon with my magic. "Not long now. Moonrise in less than an hour. You'll take her out?"

"Can I? It's been a long time…"

"There's no better hoof on her wheel," I said with utmost sincerity, and continued on my tour of inspection.

When I finished and returned to the deck, Ralf was testing the reassembled engines by running them up to 110% of their rated capacity. With their props cross-feathered to produce no thrust, they all hummed like giant, contented bees. I had to admit it; the dog really knew his business.

I felt a momentary urge to pat him on the head, but simply said, "Very well done, Mr. Ralf," in as business-like and captainly a manner as I could manage. His tail wagged furiously at the praise, nonetheless.

Rainbow Dash was on the quarterdeck pacing and lashing her tail, impatient with the wait, as usual. Well, I knew the cure for that.

"Dash, are you up for a night mission?"

Her eyes nearly bugged out of her head. "I'm ready for anything Twi! I mean, Captain! Are we gonna go now?"

"Soon," I said.

Dash sighed and rolled her eyes. "That could mean, like, an hour, or even two!"

"You know our course to Twilight Town?"

"Pft! Yeah!" She rolled her eyes again. "All that zig-zagging. I don't know why we don't just fly straight there."

"Reasons," I told her, knowing it was exactly the sort of explanation she would be most willing to accept. "I need you to scout ahead of us and make sure there are no suspicious ships loitering along our route. There will be a quarter moon tonight, so you should be able to make sure we've got a league or so of clear air to either side, even after sunset. If you spot any ship running without lights, even a balloon, you zip back here immediately and warn us, okay?"

"And I start now, right?" Her eyes were positively glowing with the anticipation of action.

"Check in every half hour or so," I said, and pointed with a sweep of my foreleg to the open sky.

My mane, tail, and the tails of my coat fluttered in the sudden violent gust caused by her departure.

Khaatarrekket, who had been going over a pre-flight check of the engine telegraph and ballast controls, cleared her throat.

"Yes, Ket?"

"I was thinking that the raptor set[5] might be of use to Ms. Rainbow Dash on this mission. I could unpack it and get it ready for when she checks in, if…?"

[5] The rapid amplitude-deviation interpretive oscillator set (RAPTOR for short, from the first and last three letters of the name) was a pair of crystal powered wireless microphone/speaker combinations that allowed two ponies to verbally communicate over a distance of many miles instantaneously. It gave us an incredible tactical advantage, and I would have had several sets made if they didn't require incredibly expensive and hard to get materials. As it was, we only had one set aboard, and I didn't think risking delicate equipment worth hundreds of thousands of bits to Dash's tender care was wise.

"No need, Ket. I doubt there's anypony actually skulking around out there. This is just my admittedly justifiable paranoia coming up with a way to keep Dash from going stir-crazy. If she spots anything, she'll be back here almost as fast as raptor waves, anyway."

Ket chuckled. "As you say, Captain." She nodded to the consoles on either side of the wheel. "The controls and instruments are ready for flight. Ballast is at 95% and we have neutral buoyancy. I have pre-warmed the gas cell heaters. I don't think we will need them, but the night air can get very cold over the Unicorn Range even at this time of year."

"Very good, Ket!" I caught sight of a pale yellow form, climbing down the mainmast ratlines from the main ventral envelope hatch. "Ah, here comes Fluttershy to take the helm. Inform Ms. Ao we are about to depart and get the watch to their stations, if you please."

"Inform Ms. Ao and watch to stations, aye Captain!" Ket saluted and went about her tasks.

I turned and stared out at the sky, fretted with clouds glowing amber in the last of the sunset. I smiled to myself and said, almost under my breath, "Time to fly."

= = =

=

Author's Note

7 Above It All

Chapter Seven - Above It All

The dock lines were cast off and Fluttershy eased Nebula off the slipway cradle so gently that, not only didn't I feel the slightest bump, but I couldn't say for certain exactly when we lost contact.

The engines were barely ticking over in reverse, but Ralf was rushing from one mounting pedestal to the next, cocking his large ears at each engine for a few seconds, and then trotting to the next to repeat the process. I suppose he was listening for any sounds that would betray an imperfection in their operation. I had no idea why he thought it necessary after the stressful runup he'd put them through, but he'd proved his competency, and I wasn't about to second guess him.

The speaking tube from the cupola whistled. I unplugged it, said, "Blackmane here," and then put my ear to it.

Applejack's voice sounded clear and strong despite the long distance it had traveled through the small tube from the lookout position on the upper surface of Nebula's envelope near her bow. "We're clear of the gantries. Ain't no traffic above us."

"Thank you, AJ." I replaced the stopper and turned to Fluttershy. "We're clear, Ms. Fluttershy. Take us up."

Fluttershy's delicate hooves moved over the engine telegraph controls and flight surface console with practiced ease. The props spun up, and the engine pods pivoted in a complex pattern that lifted Nebula and rotated her away from the mountain at the same time. "Mr. Hawser, dump a half of a ton of ballast, please?"

"Half-ton drop, aye." Hawser set the levers on the buoyancy panel and pressed the dump lever.

I couldn't feel the difference as the little 120 gallon rain shower headed for the valley floor, but Fluttershy smiled and nodded in satisfaction a moment later.

On the main deck, Ralf was trying to monitor all four engines at once—and somehow managing it.

A few minutes later Fluttershy announced, "We're at altitude and on our correct heading, Captain,"

"Very good. Three… No wait." I smiled. "Would you like to give our new engineer a heart attack, Ms. Fluttershy?"

She looked back at me over her shoulder and frowned. "You're a mean old mare, Captain Blackmane." Her frown wobbled slightly, almost as if it were struggling to turn into a grin.

"That I am, Ms. Summer Breeze,[1] that I am! Ring for emergency ahead on all engines!"

[1] We all had our disguise amulets on since before leaving Canterlot, of course. Aside from making us look like different ponies, no matter what we called each other, eavesdroppers would only hear our noms de guerre. My emphasis was for her sake.

"All engines emergency ahead aye, Captain." She giggled under her breath, I swear she did.

Ralf stood quietly, watching the engines as they rumbled up to 120% of their rated capacity, pulling us forward with smooth and steady power. I could feel the vibration of the deck below my hooves, but it was lighter and more even than it had been since the engines were brand new. "I think that pup is more than worth his pay," I muttered.

Rainbow Dash appeared before we were above the foothills of the Unicorn Range, and gave me a full wing salute before she had even touched down on the quarter deck.[2]

[2] I have no idea how she does it. I once spent a whole afternoon (in a very private place, of course) trying to replicate the stunt, and all I got for my trouble was several bruises and a lot of sod between my teeth from several ungainly faceplants.

"Didn't see anything else in the air, with or without running lights," she told me.

"Good," I said. I pulled a notebook out of my pocket and flipped to a particular page of notes. "We should see a passenger liner from Tall Tale headed to Dodge Junction off the larboard bow in a quarter hour or so, unless she's off her schedule or—" I glanced at the engine telegraph. "—we cross her course early."

Dash followed my gaze. "Huh. Yeah, Nebula's kinda cookin’ along, isn't she?"

The engines hadn't caught fire or exploded by then, so—I just couldn't resist. "Wanna see her really move?"

Dash frowned at me. "What? Since when—"

"Ms. Fluttershy!" I said in my best quarterdeck voice. "Disengage all engine governors and ring all forward."

"Aye-aye, mean old mare," she repeated. She pulled the telegraph handles back to full stop, lifted the protective cover off of a set of bright red switches, flipped all four to the positions marked with red skulls and lightning bolts, and then jammed the telegraph handles as far forward as they would go.

Airships are big and heavy and they don't usually make abrupt maneuvers, but as the engines bellowed like outraged ursas, Nebula surged forward suddenly enough that Dash had to shift her stance to stay on her hooves.

"Whoa," she said. "Awesome!"

Thoroughly satisfied with her reaction, I turned to see how Ralf was taking it. He was standing aft of the mainmast, forepaws on hips, gazing calmly up at me with a huge, serene, smug smile plastered across his pointy little snoot. He didn't seem at all concerned that a ragged, unrestricted flow from the power crystals was tearing through his precious engines. I gave him a reserved, captainly nod in return and made a mental note to advance him two pay grades in the morning.

"That'll do, Ms. Fluttershy. All engines ahead three-quarters."

A second or two later, Tempest rushed on deck and began quickly scanning the sky. When she saw nothing immediately, she called up to me. "Trouble, Your Highness?"

"Just shaking the dust off. And while we're aboard, use 'Captain' if you please."

She considered me silently for a moment and then said, "Of course, Captain." She walked to the rail near the #4 engine mount and gazed at it for a while. "These crystal engines are incredibly quiet for the amount of power they put out, aren't they?"

Given that I could actually hear what she was saying when she was standing less than three pony lengths from it, I had to agree, but I didn't bother to reply.

But there was someone present who was more than happy to talk about the quality of Nebula's engines. "Noise is mostly from turbulence caused by the props," Ralf told her, suddenly appearing at her shoulder. "If Ralf had time to insulate the cowling and fit new props, or shape the old edges correctly, they would be even quieter!"

One wouldn't have thought Tempest would be all that interested in the details, but she stood listening to Ralf and sometimes offering comments for long enough for Rainbow Dash to make another patrol sweep.

When Rainbow returned and reported that she'd sighted the liner right where she ought to be, I told her that we could make do with regular lookouts for the rest of the night. Once we were across the Unicorn divide and above the western watershed, we wouldn't cross any other air lanes before we got to Twilight Town.

"You should go get some sleep," I told her. "We rang seven bells[3] just before you landed, so the watch is almost over, anyway."

"Sounds good to me, Cap!" She lifted into the air again, wing-saluted,[4]and glided down to the main deck where she almost collided with Tempest who was headed for the fo'c'sle[5] ladder as well.

[3] Timekeeping aboard both air and naval ships is noted by a pattern of bell strikes, starting with one at the first half hour into each watch, and adding one each half hour (struck in groups of two) until the bell is rung eight times at the end of the watch, when the pattern starts all over again. That is, except for the First Dog Watch, which has only four bells because it only lasts two hours, and the Second Dog Watch, which also only lasts two hours, but ends with eight bells being struck, even though only three bells were struck the previous half hour. Simple, really.
[4] I swear she knows how envious I am of her ability, because she does that every chance she gets.

[5] The correct abbreviation of "forecastle," the forward section of a ship. Pronounced sort of like "folks-ull." No, really. Look it up if you don't believe me.

Tempest stopped and made an "after you" gesture with her forehoof. Dash evidently didn't like passing right under Tempest's muzzle, because she didn't walk by, but stared up at the (much) taller unicorn for several seconds, frowning.

Tempest cocked her head, but otherwise didn't move.

Finally Dash snorted and said, "Size isn't everything, you know."

"Oh, that's certainly true," Tempest said, agreeably. "I can easily defeat much larger opponents." And with that, she slipped down the ladder to the crew deck, leaving Dash sputtering behind her.

I sighed. "It's going to be one of those voyages, isn't it?" I muttered.

Fluttershy carefully checked the compass while Ket made a few minute adjustments to our ballast controls, and neither made any comment.

Ao took command at midnight, and shooed Fluttershy away from the wheel, even though she volunteered to stay on into the Middle Watch. "This one believes we will go to sails at the Forenoon Watch when there is a chance of a good wind on our beam. You will want to be well rested for that."

Fluttershy fairly (but not literally. This is Fluttershy I'm speaking of, after all) flew for her hammock while I informed Ao of what had passed during my watch before going below. I took a few minutes to make an entry into the log, and then tumbled into my bunk. I took in a long, deep breath, and was asleep before I had entirely let it go.

= = =

Luna snuggled up to me, a serpentine, not quite corporeal presence in my dreamscape. "All is well, my love?" She wrapped herself around, and around, and around me.

I snuggled right back. "Mmm… nearly perfect so far."

"I cannot remain long, I fear," she said sadly. "The Storm King's attack has had a lasting effect on the dreams of the ponies of Canterlot, and legions of hairy terrors yet stalk their slumber."

I kissed her pointy snoot and got a flickery kiss in return. "We each have our duties," I agreed reluctantly. "You'll check in every night though?"

"When I can."

"I'll have Spike send you letters when there's anything of substance to report."

"I look forward to accounts of your exciting victories in exquisite detail."

I chuckled and stroked her long, long back. "I intend them to be boring and unremarkable."

She gave me a little squeeze and said, "Two things thou never art," and dissolved into coiling darkness.

= = =

Spike woke me with a mug of fresh coffee plunked down on the little shelf near my bunk. I blinked and mumbled, "Thank you," before checking the compass, log, and clock set into the overhead[6] above my bunk. We were on course and at speed.

[6] "Overhead" is aeronautical-speak for ceiling. It's like a different language that only sounds similar to Equuish. Walls are bulkheads, stairs are ladders, downstairs is below, halls are companionways, windows are ports or lights (or deadlights if they can't open), and the log mentioned above isn't a log book, it's a speed indicator. Maybe I should just append a glossary to this thing?

I sat up and floated the mug over, inhaling the rich scent of my special Tanzebran blend. The voyage hadn't felt real until that moment. I'd been mostly reacting, dealing with all the myriad details of my frankly sketchy plan and burying myself in the work so I wouldn't have to think about it too much.

I had a ship full of creatures depending on me to make the right decisions, and it was high time I stopped letting my brain skitter away from its responsibilities. I rolled out of my bunk and scrawled several lines in my pocket notebook while sipping my coffee, drawing neat little squares next to each entry to be checked off later.

There were several ponies busy on deck when I went above to relieve the morning watch. Some were flaking out the sheets and readying the halyards in anticipation of switching over to sails, others were climbing the ratlines to get to their stations aloft. Fluttershy was already on the quarterdeck, standing with her forehooves hooked over the starboard rail, her eyes shut, and her wings half-open, testing the wind.

"Good breeze for a sail, Ms. Fluttershy?"

"Oh yes," she sighed, without opening her eyes.

Clove Hitch (Nebula's Second Officer) turned the hourglass and rang eight bells. "Nothing to report. The watch is yours, Captain."

"Thank you, Ms. Clove Hitch, I have the watch. Fluttershy, you have the helm."

She slid in behind the wheel as Clove Hitch and Hawser went below for breakfast.

I cast the keel spell, and Fluttershy brought out her silver bosun's pipe that she used to give orders to the deckhooves. Even though she tried her best, and had improved remarkably over the years, her best quarterdeck voice was barely a sixteenthdeck voice.[7]

[7] Yes, it's an old and not-that-funny joke, but it's traditional, and that's really what matters to sailors.

The changeover went perfectly, and soon Nebula was sailing along nicely on a beam reach with "clouds in her teeth", as the old saying goes

I opened the little door on the binnacle that concealed a set of controls and readouts for each engine, and did some quick mental calculations. It seemed that our power consumption rates were easily within their normal range—maybe even a bit below average, though I wanted a larger dataset before I called that for sure. I closed the cover and said as much to Fluttershy.

"I'm so glad! About Ralf, I mean. I never felt all that comfortable with Nebula's engines, and I've always felt guilty that I didn't know more about that part of her anatomy."

It was Fluttershy that had talked me into taking him on. She knew Nebula better than anyone, and claimed that the airship behaved exactly like a living, breathing creature. "Nebula feels better under sail," she once told me. "The engines are—useful, I suppose, but she likes riding the wind much better."

Ralf, unlike most of his semi-subterranean tribe, had nothing against sailing or flying, and had arrived in Twilight Town looking for engineering or mechanical work. He said he preferred crystal-powered engines, as he did have his tribe's notorious knowledge of gemstones, but he claimed to be able to work with steam or oil machines as well.

The only reason I had hesitated about taking him on was that he was, to put it bluntly, unbelievably cute, and I had originally suspected that his appearance had unduly influenced Fluttershy's judgment. I should have known that she would have never let anything like that sway her when her beloved Nebula was at the heart of the matter. Fairly atypically for a Diamond Dog, he was considerably shorter than an average pony when standing on all fours, which he claimed was an advantage when working in crowded engine spaces.

Now, with the engines shut down, he was climbing over the rails and walking the narrow rotating beams to open the pod hatches and inspect each engine in turn. As he clambered back aboard, he pulled a cloth from his many-pocketed vest and carefully wiped the rail in case he had left any bit of grease there, just as he'd done on the day I decided to hire him.

I glanced over the larboard rail at the mountain peaks below. We were nearly at the Hydra Pass, well into the Undiscovered West. "Come right to Northwest by west and a half north," I told Fluttershy.

"Northwest by West, aye," Fluttershy acknowledged, and whistled orders to the crew to shift the sails as she turned Nebula closer into the wind. It was just at the limit of how high Nebula could point, and I expected to see a bit of shake in the windward edges of the sails, but Fluttershy spun up engine three enough to even us out while we crossed over the ridgeline of the mountains into more favorable air. The compass needle never wavered from the line once she'd made the turn.

Once we were well north of the mountains, nearing the coastal forest, I ordered Fluttershy to change course to West by South and shorten sail. I wanted to shed some speed so we’d arrive in Twilight Town in the middle of the night.

While we were ghosting along, I used my spyglass to scan the woods to the north of us. We were over one of the wildest areas of the Undiscovered West; one of the bits that remained unexplored to any extent, and for a very good reason. Parts of that deep forest made the Everfree look like a rose garden in comparison. Pre-Discordian ruins lurked beneath the tree canopy and only an insane pony would go anywhere near them, let alone enter any of them.

Which was why I was a little bit surprised to see a lone pony galloping flat-out away from the treeline. I immediately thought of Daring Do. She was one of the few ponies I knew who might be crazy enough to risk being in the area, but she had been in Canterlot for the festival, and wouldn't have had time to get all the way out there and into deadly peril. I mean, she's good, but not that good.

Besides, the pony running for her life was a unicorn. I couldn't see what was chasing her, and I adjusted the focus of my spyglass a bit. Still nothing, but she seemed to be wearing some sort of weird, flapping green cape. Oh well; rescue first, questions later.

"Clear the waist! 'Port onboard!" I called out to warn the crew on the main deck what I was about to do, and the crew scrambled out of the way with satisfactory speed. A moment later, with a pop and flash of my magic, the pony appeared amidships. The twin mysteries of her pursuers and fashion sense were both answered: She was covered with grass snakes. I leaped down to where I'd winked her aboard and began slicing away with my short blades. Rainbow Dash was there a second later, adding her cutlass to the task. It was only a couple of seconds before the mare was cut free of the nasty constrictors and the deck smelled like a freshly cropped lawn.

I wiped my blades and put them away while ordering a crewpony to get a mop and bucket. "Get that—juice, sap, whatever it is, get it cleaned up before it stains my deck, and heave the clippings overboard."

I had been very much afraid of snakes until Luna cured me of the irrational part of that fear, but creatures like the grass snakes still creeped me out. Ponies should eat vegetables, not the other way around.

The mare caught her breath enough to gasp out, "Thanks! Thanks a lot! For a minute there, I thought I was going to… Well…"

"You got a lucky charm or something?" Dash asked her. "'Cause it was, like, a million-to-one chance that we were here right when you needed us."

"Uh…" The mare suddenly became nervous and looked down at the deck while shuffling her hooves. "Yeah… I…"

I briefly puzzled over why anypony would be embarrassed about being outrageously lucky. I decided that introductions would be a good way to smooth over any awkwardness. "I'm Blackmane, captain of the airship Nebula. Welcome aboard. This is Rain Storm. And you are?"

She ducked her head again and shyly gestured to her rump. Her cutie mark was a 4-leaf clover surmounted by a golden horseshoe with a huge central diamond. "H-hi," she said, giving us a sheepish grin. "I'm Lucky Charm."

= = =

=

Author's Note

8 Fortune's Filly

Chapter Eight - Fortune's Filly

It's all Celestia's fault.

A couple thousand years ago, give or take a few centuries, she had meddled with the World Wheel as part of a plan to overthrow and imprison her demonic mother. She bent that titanic magical construct away from its original purpose as an engine of equine eugenics and toward a sort of morality machine. She intended that it would guide the natural laws of our universe toward automatically rewarding good behavior. It was a brilliant idea, but it didn't work.

Luna had been involved also, but I am convinced that she was just going along with her big sister's plan, and trusting naïvely in her wisdom. They'd both been very young (relatively) at the time, and had not yet been brutalized into respecting the Law of Unintended Consequences.

The most obvious consequences of that well-intentioned meddling was the fragmentation of magical energy into several different subtypes, most of which were poorly understood. The changes resulted in downstream effects like cutie marks, judgemental crystal trees, and idiosyncratic "wild" magic that could manifest itself as almost anything, including the ridiculous[1] ability to predict the near future based on patterns of body spasms. Being a methodical and logical scholar in such a chaotic system is maddening at times.

[1] But admittedly, occasionally useful.

My intuition insisted that one of the unique and unpredictable consequences of a twisted World Wheel was standing right in front of me, but I wanted to make sure.

"Let me guess. Exploring incredibly dangerous territory seems risky at times, and everypony says it's risky, but it always works out fine for you, right?" I said to the incredibly dangerous mare that stood before me.

Lucky Charm gave me a wide grin. "Yes, it does! I'm glad you understand, Captain Blackmane. So many ponies tell me I'm dumb for taking so many chances, but aside from a fun little scare every once in a while, nothing really bad ever happens."

Rain Storm (née Rainbow Dash) gave me a look that I interpreted as, Huh? You're gonna explain this to me later, right? Mango Tango (née Pinkie Pie), standing in the fo'c'sle hatchway, her various appendages twitching and shuddering in turn, had her head cocked so far that it made my neck hurt to look at her.

"You must be tired after that run, and I think I ought to have Dr. Woundwort check you over, just in case. Would you like some refreshments? Maybe a nap?" I desperately wanted her out of the way, so I could warn the crew about how to behave until we could get rid of her.

"That sounds fine, thank you!"

I settled her on the stern gallery on a bed of brocade cushions, with a platter of assorted treats nearby, and then called the girls and Nebula's officers together for an emergency meeting on the fo'c'sle deck, as far away from Lucky Charm as we could get without climbing atop Nebula's envelope.

I quickly explained the situation. Most of them looked doubtful, Pinkie was nodding vigorously, and Rainbow raised her hoof. I nodded to her.

"But if she's, like, totally lucky, wouldn't it be good to keep her around?"

I shook my head. "It's her own luck, not an area effect. If she's always dreamed of having an adventure where she was the sole survivor of an airship wreck..."

The crew looked around at each other, beginning to understand how dangerous the mare might be.

"Gettin' other ponies killed ain't exactly somethin' she'd hanker after, is it? She seems like a real nice pony to me."

"No, you're right, AJ, that was just an extreme example, but there's no way to predict how her luck will manifest itself. She's—"

"She's probably very lonely," Fluttershy said.

"What?"

Fluttershy frowned and looked down at the deck. Her voice was so low that we all had to swivel our ears and lean in to hear her. "Discord was. He didn't know it, but he was. When you can just snap your claw and have anything you want, ponies get uncomfortable around you. They treat you differently. They tend to shy away when they realize how different you are. Lucky was all the way out here, alone. Ponies shouldn't be alone."

She stopped talking then and didn't look up, as if she really didn't expect a reply.

I disagreed with her on a fundamental level. Ponies didn't like Discord because his sense of humor was that of a two-year-old foal embodied in a cosmically powerful, barely-civilized, impulsive narcissist. But—

But he'd gotten better. Much better, I had to admit, and that was all down to a meek little mare that a lot of ponies foolishly dismissed as insignificant. She was right; loneliness was one of the worst things that could happen to a pony.

Before anypony else could say anything, I spoke up. "Alright then! What are we all about, Nebulas?"

"Gettin' swag and booty!" shouted Pinkie Pie, suddenly sporting her piratical red bandana and striped shirt, and waving a cutlass.

Well, she wasn't wrong, but I had something else in mind, and if all the shenanigans I'd gone through since moving to Ponyville had taught me anything, it was to trust my friends, even when I disagreed with them.

"Getting swag and booty with the help of friends," I corrected her. "If what Lucky Charm needs is a few new friends, then I think we can take a risk or two?"

It was gratifying to see the group nod in general agreement, but best of all was Fluttershy's grateful smile.

= = =

Lucky Charm was a very sweet mare. I would have called her innocent and naïve if she had been any other pony, but her behavior wasn't because of inexperience or ignorance. She had plenty of experience and understood the world perfectly as it was—for her.

Where a naïve filly might wander out to a dangerous bog to watch frogs and never be heard of again, Lucky would come home with a story about how a mean old hydra had collapsed of a heart attack just in time for one of its necks to provide a handy bridge across a particularly mucky patch of swamp that led her to a perfect place to watch some nice frogs.

A charming story, unless one was a hydra. I intended that Nebula and her crew would, at the very least, fill the role of nice and entertaining frogs.

Without mentioning the potentially disastrous wild magic involved, we passed the word to the rest of the crew, as well as Grubber and Tempest, that the little mare was to be treated as an honored guest. Fortunately, Lucky seemed to like all of the crew and enjoyed chatting with everypony and exploring the ship as the day wore on.

There was a bit of a worrisome moment when Lucky met Tempest as she was coming on deck to stretch her legs.[2]

[2] With legs like that, I assumed she needed to stretch them quite a lot.

"Oh! Your poor horn!" Lucky said, one hoof going to her mouth to cover her gasp of dismay.

I stiffened, trying futilely to prepare myself for whatever the wild magic might do to save Lucky from damage or discomfort.

Tempest looked down at her, unsmiling. "It's fine. It happened a long time ago and I'm used to it."

"What happened?"

I cringed, expecting Tempest to snarl at her or kick her over the rail or something, but she surprised me by laying down on the deck next to Lucky and crossing her forelegs over each other. "I was just a filly—"

She told a story of how she'd been attacked by an Ursa while trying to retrieve her friend's wayward ball from a cave. More than a few ears swiveled in her direction, my own included. Lucky Charm wasn't the only supernaturally lucky mare onboard; Tempest ought to have ended up as a wet smear on that cave floor. She finished up by looking up at the quarterdeck and saying, "I get along pretty well without it now, but the pri—uh—the captain there has promised to get me a new one."

Lucky threw her forelegs around Tempest's neck in a hug that also miraculously didn't get her turned into a smear on my deck. "I hope it's soon!" she said.

The bigger mare gave her an awkward pat on the back. "Thanks, Me too."

When Lucky trotted off to the galley with Pinkie and AJ, chatting happily about the intricacies of cooking aboard a ship and the particulars of what was going to be served for dinner, I came down from the quarterdeck to where Tempest had rapidly moved on to methodically working through several martial arts combat forms, holding each pose with excellent control and striking with precise power.

I stood and silently watched her for several minutes. She was amazing. Her moves were so clean and focused that I knew exactly the size and shape of each of her imagined opponents. I could almost see them. She finished a set and walked over to the leeward rail to shake some of her sweat off into the wind. "Thought I'd lost my horn in some battle?" she asked, not looking at me.

"Not that it matters, but yes. I didn't think it was any of my business to ask."

She shrugged, still staring off toward the distant mountains. "Well, now you know."

I put my hooves up on the rail alongside hers. "Unless I die, or you die, or the Storm Drain takes over the world and wrecks everything, I'll make sure you get your horn replaced, no matter how everything else turns out."

She didn't say anything, so I thought it would be good to change the subject. "Is that a Neighsian style you're using? It's not familiar to me."

She turned just enough to give me a side-eye. "The princess gets her hooves dirty? Don't you have magic for that?"

I levitated a belaying pin out of the rail nearby and held it firmly in front of me. With my left forehoof, I drew one of my short blades, swept it out and through the pin, and then returned the blade to its scabbard in one smoothly flowing motion. It all took considerably less than a second, and I caught the loose half of the pin in my magic before it could fall.

Tempest reached out, took the larger part of the pin, and held it so that she could squint at the cut surface. It was nearly mirror smooth and perfectly straight, no little splinters at the trailing edge. She sighed and dropped it overboard. "Figures," she snorted. "The kirin must have taught you that, am I right?"

"I practice most of the classical Equestrian forms, too. But these?" I touched the grip of one of my blades. "Yes, Ao taught me this style, and it's become my favorite. I'm not bad, but she's absolutely uncanny."

Tempest tapped a hoof on the rail. "I studied a lot in Equestria when I was still young. Typical pony nice-fighting." There was definitely a sneer in her voice when she said that. I think she saw it as a weakness that dojos didn't want to send their students home with broken bones or concussions.

"At least it got me in shape for the real thing," she continued. "I learned the effective stuff from the Eastern Griffistan nomads. After I'd spent three years with them, no pony alive could touch me."

I was impressed. I hadn't even heard of that particular griffin tribe, let alone their fighting style. "I would think that a griffin style would depend a lot on beaks, talons, and claws."

Tempest chuckled. "I adapted it a little, and it works well enough for me. The flat teeth and hooves just make the hurt last longer."

"That's a good thing?"

She shrugged. "Ask a belligerent moron who's just been on the receiving end of a double-disemboweling kick. Given the choice of not being able to breathe for a couple minutes or decorating the ground with his own—"

I held up a hoof to stop her. "Gotcha. Pain can be a merciful option."

"And instructive." She turned to me. "Don't tell me you're squeamish about instructing misguided ponies, Captain Princess?"

I sighed. "I hate it. But I've learned that sometimes there's no better way to protect my ponies. And I've learned that hesitation can get me and ponies that depend on me killed." It was all so complex and I wanted to explain to her the details of how I'd become—what I had become. But I'd also learned that almost nopony was interested in the intricacies, so I shrugged and finished up lamely. "I just hate it."

Tempest gave me a long, evaluating look and then tried to kick my head off.

It was a feint, and she snatched her foreleg back immediately after beginning the move. An instant of furious movement later, we both stood there frozen in place, me in the first flush of an adrenaline rush, one of my blades held in a forehoof guard and the other at her throat in a tight magical grip, while she crouched in a defensive stance, the shallow cut on her pastern dripping blood on my deck.

She looked curiously at the cut and said, "Huh."

"You're crazy!" I shouted in disbelief. "I could have killedyou!"

"Yes, and now I know that for sure," she said, as if explaining something obvious. She gave me a little salute. "Lesson learned, Captain. I'll go get Grubber to stitch this up." And then she blithely trotted away.

Dash dropped down by my side. "What was that all about? She's lucky Ao wasn't on deck, or she'd be in, like, a dozen pieces right now."

I was starting to shiver a bit as the adrenaline was flushed from my system. Tempest hadn't been wearing her resistant armor; why hadn't I simply grabbed her with my magic? "Once," I said as I wiped my blade clean and sheathed it. "Just once, I'd like us to have a dull and boring voyage without any madponies aboard!"

"Planning on staying home then?"

"Oh, don't you start with me, Rainbow Dash!" I don't know why I snapped at her like that. It was myself I was angry at. It seemed my reflexes were set on overreacting.

"Hey, hey," she said, holding up both wings in a placating gesture. "Just kidding! Besides, a boring trip would be, well, boring, right?"

I couldn't argue with that, not that I needed to. An identity function is only useful in combination with other arguments. But, taking into account her unstated premise that boredom was bad, I couldn't help but agree anyway. "Just interesting and intriguing would be good enough for me; it doesn't have to be traumatic!"

Dash grinned and looked over her shoulder to where Tempest had descended the ladder to the crew deck, leaving little spots of blood on the deck along her way.

"Too late for that."

= = =

=

Author's Note

9 Home-Away-from-Homecoming

Chapter Nine - Home-Away-from-Homecoming

The Welcome Aboard! party for Lucky Charm spanned two watches, so that everypony could attend. In addition to all the food, there was singing, dancing, games, and stories.

Somewhere near the watch change, Lucky sidled up to me and quietly asked, "So… You guys are for-real pirates?"

"Privateers." I automatically corrected her.

She giggled. "Mango Tango said you'd say that!"

"It's a very important distinction."

Lucky nodded enthusiastically. "Oh yes, absolutely! It's just that most ponies don't really know the difference, but I'll make sure to use the right word from now on." She paused and gave me a sheepish smile. "Uh… What is the difference, anyway?"

She actually paid close attention to my little mini lecture and seemed to be honestly interested. I was impressed. That didn't stop me from also talking up Twilight Town and how interesting it was and how many interesting places in interesting parts of the world somepony could take some other airship to from there.

Tempest participated in the party by standing just out of the lamplight and glaring[1]at the festivities while allowing Grubber to fetch her the occasional drink or treat.

[1] I don't think she was displeased or unhappy about the festivities; that simply seemed to be her default expression.

Despite her seeming disinterest, I think I actually saw her tap her hoof once or twice during one of the more lively tunes. I badly wanted to ask her to dance, just to see her reaction, but I thought that would be pressing my luck way too far, and asked Rarity instead.

The nice thing about traditional folk dances is that they're mostly simple, repetitive, and easy to learn. My skills as far as modern styles were concerned were definitely lacking, but I could manage a hornpipe or a jig well enough.

"You can't sew on a button with your hooves in the air,
So go find a featherless dirt pony mare!"

Pinkie assaulted her squeeze box with vigor while belting out all twenty innuendo-filled verses of Dirt Pony Mare. Rarity kept adding flirty flourishes to the simple steps that I struggled to keep up with, though I managed a hip-bump and a tail swat a time or two. I was a bit sweaty by the end of the dance, so I took a mug of cider and leaned against the mainmast, letting the evening breeze cool me down while Pinkie started in on the equally stealth-filthy A Unicorn's Horn.

"Ohhhhhhh, a unicorn's horn is ribbed all around,
It is! It is!"

For such a big mare, Tempest could move surprisingly quietly, but I heard her cross the deck toward me, nevertheless.

"Enjoying the celebration?" I asked, before she could announce her presence.

"Very much," she replied, sounding quite sincere.

I turned to her and studied her scarred face, half hidden in the shadow of the mast. She was looking past me. I couldn't be sure, but I think she was looking at Rarity. "Really?" I followed her gaze. Rarity was leaning in close to Half Hitch, whispering something and pointing at her own horn. Even in the low lantern light, I could see he was blushing.

Rarity is a terrible flirt and she'd be the first pony to admit it, but I couldn't see why Tempest should care. "I thought you were straight, or disinterested. Rarity flirts as naturally as she breathes. And she's married."

Tempest shook her head. "What I'm interested in is power. That's a very powerful mare, and I'm not just talking about the effect of her beauty or her superb physique. There's something else…"

Well, well. Look who turned out to be an unexpectedly perceptive pony.

"All of them have it," I said. I wasn't quite sure why I should trust Tempest with the knowledge, but it was pretty much an open secret in Equestria. "All of my close friends have incredibly powerful wild magic in them. It expresses itself differently in each of us and I'm pretty sure we found each other because of it. I hate superstitious terms like fate and destiny, so I like to think of it as a different sort of natural force, like magnetism."

Tempest silently regarded me for a moment. "And when all those magnets get together…?"

"Honestly? It can be a little bit terrifying. For example, there's a place on the far side of the Everfree that ponies have named Tirek's Scar. It's a jumbled mess of broken and half melted rock about two furlongs wide and a league long, that used to be a line of low peaks. It's what resulted from the spillover of a fight I had alone against a gigantic centaur that ended in a stalemate."

She stared at me. She looked angry, but again, that was probably just disbelief.

"Visit a library or a bookseller when we get to town and look it up if you don't believe me, but that little fact is just for reference. Nothing to do with wild magic at all. My point is that when I calmed down and realized what really needed to be done, I negotiated to free my friends and together we ended his rampage in the space of a few heartbeats."

"And here I thought you were sailing off to take on the Storm King's entire fleet with a single merchant airship because you were a moron."

"I told you I don't like fighting. This isn't going to be a fight, it's just going to be over."[2]

[2] I really need to learn to stop making even casual predictions.

Tempest was silent for a long while.

I finished my cider and cleaned and teleported my mug back to my cabin. "Well, I'm going to turn in for a few hours. I want to be fresh and alert when we arrive at Town."

"Tatzelwurm scales," she said.

"I beg your pardon?"

"The antimagic coating on my armor is made from powdered tatzelwurm scales and a specific crystal powder mixed into some sort of enamel and then baked on. It works in paint, too. That's what we use on the airship hulls and envelopes. It burns off after a few good hits, but it's a lot lighter than the enamel and easy to apply. I don't know the exact details and proportions but somepony who isn't a moron ought to be able to figure it out."

"Thank you, Tempest," I said. "That will be very helpful."

"I've remembered a few more details about the command structure of the Stormguard and capabilities of the fleet, too. I'll write them all down in the morning, but right now I'd like to go get drunk." She turned to me, offering a little half-nod, half-bow. "If that's alright with you, Captain," she added.

"Enjoy yourself."

She headed straight for the cider barrel.

"This one believes the mare begins to glimpse your true quality, Majesty." Ao floated down to my side from where she had been entwined in the rigging.

"Keeping an eye on me, Ao?"

Ao is an Eastern kirin, her anatomy more serpentine than her Western cousins (who are quite pony-like in build), so her shrug was very complex and ripply. Ponies unaccustomed to her kind might be puzzled by the gesture, but to me it spoke volumes. She was having a great deal of fun.

"This one was informed about the incident on deck this afternoon."

"I think that phase of our relationship is over. I'm betting that any betrayal she might entertain from now on will be the 'fleeing in the dead of night' sort."

Ao shook her head. "Whatever else that mare might be, she is not a coward."

"Wow. You're beautiful!"

We turned to find Lucky Charm staring at Ao from where she was supporting herself with a forehoof hooked around one of the main shrouds. The little mare had a large, nearly empty cider mug in the other forehoof and was swaying rather more than could be accounted for by Nebula's gentle motion.

Ao and I exchanged glances.

"I mean, this is the firs' time I got a good look at you, an' it's weird how pretty you are. Like… Aren't you half-dragon or somethin'? That should not work at all, but—wow!"

I half expected Ao to go frosty and hyper-polite, which was her usual response when offended (if swordplay wasn't an option), but she received the praise with equanimity and was calmly explaining that kirin were not pony/dragon hybrids while I slipped away to my cabin to get a little sleep.

= = =

Dash woke me a bit after midnight. "We're into the dirty air near The Corner, Twi. Mr.Hawser's taken in the sails and we're going to engines only."

The Corner was a low pass between Twilight Valley and the gentle watershed that sloped down from Twilight Peak to Twilight Town itself,[3] a place where the wind from the South Lunar Sea met the weather system of the Northern Forgotten Lands. The winds were almost always gusty and rough there, but an airship could sail through the pass if it wasn't outright stormy. It would take half a day or more at the very least, and require a lot of tacking, where motoring would have us in town in a couple of hours.

[3] Yes, nearly every significant geologic feature of the area was named after me by over-enthusiastic Townies. The end result was that almost everycreature dropped my name when referring to them (i.e., the Peak, the Valley, and sailors and aeronauts often used T-Town.), pretty much defeating the original purpose of honoring me.

"Thanks Dash." I yawned as I rolled out of my bunk and stretched my legs and wings. "Anything else to report?"

She gave me a smug grin. "A couple of border sentries that tried really hard not to be seen. After they saw Nebula coming, one flew off for town like her tail was on fire."

"Nice to know the Townies are staying sharp, even in the dead of night."

I found Pinkie in the companionway outside my cabin where she handed me a big, steaming mug of coffee with a somewhat strained smile. "Don't worry, Skipper, the glitter is water-soluble, honest!" She disappeared forward before I could ask for clarification. There was no glitter in or on my mug that I could see, so I shrugged it off and continued up to the quarterdeck.

On deck I greeted Mr. Hawser and he gave me Nebula's course and speed, and our ETA at the mooring grounds. We were right on schedule. I sipped my coffee and gazed out in the direction of town. There were no clouds to reflect the lights, so all I saw was perfect darkness, Nebula's envelope effectively blocking the stars above.

Well—not quite perfect. There was a glimmer from something on the main deck. I cast a nightsight spell and saw Ralf going from one engine pod to another with a clipboard in one paw. Under the light-enhancement magic, he positively—well—sparkled.

I jumped over the deck's forward rail and glided down to the waist. Ralf heard me land and turned to me and saluted. "Ralf is checking the engines, Captain. They are all behaving themselves."

I stood there silently for a moment waiting for some explanation for the swirling lines of glitter worked into his fur nearly everywhere. Was he hoping I hadn't noticed?

"Uhm… Mr. Ralf—"

"Ralf lost a bet!" he blurted out.

"Ah, I see. I'm willing to bet that Pinkie had a hoof in this somehow."

"The Captain would certainly not be covered in glitter as a result of that bet," Ralf grumbled.

Pranking the newbie was a time-honored tradition that I generally tolerated as long as it didn't go too far, so I made no further comment. I merely called up some magic and directed Ralf to the hot bath that was waiting for him in the forward washroom. He slunk off as if he were going to his own execution.

Not long after there came a call from off our larboard beam. "Ahoy, Nebula!"

I had kept the nightsight spell going, so I spotted the griffin almost immediately, even though he was entirely black and wore non-reflective armor. I could even make out the bull's head medallion that marked him as one of the Twilight Town Guard.

"Welcome aboard, guard," I replied, giving him permission to land before he needed to ask.

He did so, braced, and saluted me. "Mooring tower #3 has been cleared for Nebula's use and will be fully crewed by the time you reach it, Captain Blackmane."

Airships approaching the Town in the dead of night might get the same scrutiny, but rarely the courtesy of shaking an entire mooring tower crew out of their beds. Nebula and her crew were known to be particularly well-favored by the queen, and usually got the red-carpet treatment, but I had hoped to avoid some of that by arriving so late. However, it seemed the preparations were already under way.

"Thank you…?"

"Talon, ma'am. Under the command of Captain Fire Lane."

Interesting break with tradition, a griffin not using their habitual naming convention. Unusual combination, too. Raven and melanistic—leopard or jaguar? Fluttershy would know. In stronger light his spots would probably show up. He was stiff as a board and a bit nervous, if I wasn't reading him wrong. I thought sharing a drink might relax him.

"Very good, Talon. Can I offer you some coffee or tea?" I planned on giving him decaf, of course.

"Thank you for the offer Captain, but I really should go back aloft and signal to my squad that all is well. We have navigation lanterns if you'd like guidance to the mooring grounds."

I assumed that they had more than that, just in case we had turned out to be an imposter with hostile intentions. "That would be a help, thank you." Any helmspony aboard could have flown the route with their eyes closed, but it would give the guards something to do.

I whistled up the cupola, where Ms. Clove Hitch was standing her watch, and told her to be on the lookout for the navigation lights of the guards.

"Aye-aye Captain," she replied, her voice thin and echoing through the long brass tube. "One red light, fine on the larboard bow… aaand now one green to starboard. Will you be standing by for course corrections?" Tinny or not, the sarcasm in her voice was clear.

"If we get more than a dozen points off, just give us a whistle," I replied. It was a joke. An error of 12 compass points or 135 degrees would come close to reversing our course and run us into either Black Ridge or Twilight Peak. I assumed I would not be disturbed for the rest of the run.

Before I could replace the whistle stopper in the tube, I heard an outraged exclamation from Clove. I put my ear back to the tube. "Repeat that, please?"

"Now they've got up lead lights ahead![4] Do they think we're blind?" She was definitely outraged at the perceived insult to the crew's ability to navigate.

[4] Lead lights are two white lights, one directly above the other, but with the upper separated significantly further in distance from the vessel being guided. If the vessel strays from the marked course, parallax will cause the lights to appear to separate. Steering in the direction of the lower light will bring the vessel back on course.

"I think the squad leader is a bit green," I told her. "Very eager, by-the-book sort. Just trying his best to be helpful." I could hardly fault him, I was pretty much the same until my junior year at CSGU.

That mollified Clove a bit, but she still muttered something that sounded unkind under her breath before plugging the tube on her end.

We spotted the tower not long after. It, too, was lit up to a ridiculous degree, with a spotlight on the windsock at the top. So much for a quiet arrival.

I waited on the quarterdeck without much to do as the crew went about their work of getting Nebula securely moored. Mr. Hawser brought her straight into the mast, and the crew at the mooring gear cinched her in tight, as neatly as you please. The tower's boarding gantry swung out with a pony from the airfield controller's office already standing on it.

Being Twilight Town, there were no customs forms to fill out or passports to present, and the agent was there merely to inform us that our mooring fees would be covered by the crown and to wish us a good visit. I tipped her a small sack of bits to make up for her having to lose sleep for such nonsense.

I had planned to fly up to Vagabond House right after arriving, but the number of unexpected eyes on the sky changed my mind. Most creatures in Town knew that Captain Blackmane was a close friend and confidant of Her Dark Majesty, but only a few eminently trusted ones knew we were one in the same pony. I didn't want to provide even the slightest hint in that direction, and so decided to wait to make a formal and very public visit to the royal residence the next afternoon.

I contented myself with a stroll along the deck and catwalks to make sure everything was in order, and waited until the watch changed to go back to bed.

= = =

"What do you mean, 'no laws'?" Tempest asked me the next morning as I was setting up the shore leave rota.

"Just that," I replied, rearranging a couple of names on the schedule. "Good ponies don't need laws to tell them how to behave, and bad ponies will always ignore or find their way around them. Though there are customs, and it's unwise to break those, regardless of where in the world you might find yourself."

"But you're the head honcho around here, right? When you're playing the Queen, your word is law. And there's a mayor—"

"Honorary Mayor for Life, Baroness Buzzy holds her office by acclamation because she is an excellent organizer, remarkably good at helping to reconcile disputes, and foolish enough to take on the thankless job. Twilight Town was a lawless wilderness before I arrived, and it's pretty much the same now, but with more buildings. Ponies seem to be comfortable with a figurehead that can also give a sound beating to the occasional monster or invading bandits or whatever else might wander into town, and that's where I come in. When they need to decide something important that affects everycreature, they get together and talk it out. Sometimes they even hold a vote."

"I still don't get it. What happens if somepony robs somepony else? If that's not illegal then nothing can be done about it."

I shook my head. "Quite the opposite. Anything can be done about it."

She thought about it for a moment. "So what's to prevent the whole place from dissolving into a big free-for-all brawl?"

Twilight Town has a group of creatures that acts as a guard force to protect the populace from itself as well as invaders, but the odd and complex setup that prevented abuse and corruption was a bit too much to go into right then, so I simplified it a bit.

"Well, several practical considerations, but the most important two factors are, Number One: most ponies, and most other creatures, aren't inclined to that sort of behavior. They like to be peaceful and cooperative. Only extraordinary events or situations drive them to bad behavior. Given good living conditions, they aren't really interested in causing strife."

Tempest gave me a doubtful side-eye. "And Number Two?"

"The strongest custom of the Town is always getting along no matter what. Working out differences peacefully and fairly. I admit it is a custom that I strongly encouraged in the early days, but it has quite caught on and seems to be self-reinforcing."

The slightest hint of a grin formed on Tempest's muzzle. "What sort of encouragement are we talking about, here?"

I pointed a hoof at the woods that filled the valleys of the Twilight Range. "There are trees in that forest that will kill and eat an adult yak given half a chance, and scores of predators that thrive in that sort of environment. Here, there's just one big scary monster and she likes things to be peaceful and cooperative. In fact, she rather insists on it. Conduct yourself like a civilized pony or answer to the Queen's whim. If you don't like that choice, you're welcome to leave." I pointed to the forest again. "Most creatures are pretty smart about the options, and the very few that have chosen poorly made for remarkable object lessons."

Tempest still looked like she couldn't quite believe it. "Doesn't that just come down to obeying the strongest pony?"

I sighed. "Look, it was sort of that way in the beginning, but even then I wasn't really interested in managing their day-to-day lives, I just wanted my own—uhm—projects to go smoothly. I dealt with problems that got in my way, and occasionally others when somepony came to me for help. Now, they still pretty much run the place themselves. I just help out by organizing and funding schools and libraries and other public works. Yes, I still correct the occasional problem when necessary, but I'm really just a figurehead. It works very well for the Townies, and they seem to be pretty happy for the most part."

Tempest let her grin break out into a full smile. "No, you're still a tyrant and a dictator." She indicated the Town below with a jerk of her head. "They just got lucky that you're the sort that wants to make things better instead of the usual kind that wants to dominate and devour."

I was outraged. "I am not a tyrant!"

She shrugged. "Every place in the world is ruled by the mighty ones. The village strongpony, a gang leader, a warlord, or an entrenched nobility or guild system that writes the laws to rig everything in their favor. If you left this place to fend for itself, some other tyrant would fill your horseshoes within the year and the place would be worse off because of it."

Well, she wasn't exactly wrong, but expressing it that way distorted it. "I don't think that—"

"C'mon, Twilight!" She slapped me on the shoulder. "You're a great tyrant! It's time you owned that!"

She was dead wrong. I had responsibilities. I wouldn't, couldn't ever "own" being the tyrant of the Twilight Folk, because being their tyrant owned me.

= = =

=

Author's Note

10 Cultural Exchange Rate

Chapter Ten - Cultural Exchange Rate

Tempest was amazed when I paid her a standard quarter share and put her in the first group for shore leave. For a short voyage without any profit made, it wasn't much, but it was enough to get a few decent meals and buy some souvenirs. And if she got taken by some local sharps, it was little enough to lose. When I finally convinced her I was serious about letting her wander off, alone and unchaperoned, I think she was even more shocked.

"No magical tracking device?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

"I trust you," I said.

She stared at me, opened her mouth, shut it again, and then she and Grubber trotted off across the gantry and down the circular stairs of the tower. I would have loved to see her first encounters with the Twilight Folk, but I supposed I'd have to make do with a second-hoof report. I peered up at the clouds drifting up the valley from the ocean. I knew Ao was up there somewhere, even though I couldn't spot her.

Ralf was surprised by his pay, too. "Ralf thinks there is a mistake, Captain ma'am. Ralf's papers say full share," he protested.

"They also say, 'with advancements for merit,' Mr. Ralf," I told him. "Your pay is now a share and a half. It'll go to a double share after a year or when you seriously impress me again. You're in the second group for shore leave. Have fun."

He looked a bit stunned as he took his little bag of bits over to the rail near the number three engine base and sat down to count them over again.

Rarity and Ket approached together and asked for a letter of credit to acquire cargo for the next leg of the voyage. Yes, we were on a mission having nothing to do with trading, but a merchant airship not hauling goods was one of the most deeply suspicious things imaginable. We didn't want to spread any accurate rumors, did we?

The main problem is that we didn't know much about the southern cities and had little idea what would make for plausible trade goods. My plan was to inquire around among the few merchants in town who traded with the south. They wouldn't welcome the perceived competition, of course, and we would have to be clever and cagey in our inquiries, so a sharp business pony and a shapeshifter were ideal agents.

Spike was helping me pay off the crew, and I had him write out the letter of credit so that it would be clearly legible. I affixed my (Blackmane's) seal and was just floating it over to Ket when a cheery voice interrupted.

"Hey, are you two going shopping?" It was Lucky Charm, obviously not hungover despite the prodigious amount of cider she'd downed the night before. "Can I come along? I'm a pretty good haggler!" Lucky had been given permission to sleep aboard until Nebula left port or she found other arrangements. Not being crew, she could come and go as she pleased.

There was a rapid exchange of meaningful glances. For my part, I just didn't know enough about how Lucky's innate magic worked to know if it would be a hindrance or a help. We were on home ground and held quite an advantage, so I didn't think even a minor disaster would be much of a setback.

I shrugged, Rarity gave a casual roll of her eyes, and Ket twitched the corner of her mouth. It seemed nopony objected, so I nodded to Lucky.

"Well of course you can come, dear!" Rarity told her. "It may be a bit boring because we have some banking to do first, and we will be negotiating for bulk goods, not souvenirs, but you're more than welcome to come if you like."

A short while after they had departed, I finished paying off the crew and closed the money box. Spike scanned the ledger and nodded. "Everything's in order."

"Thank you, Mr. Lance," I said, using the name that went with his midshippony disguise. "I'm going to have a little chat with Mayor Buzzy, and then go up to Vagabond House to publicly and visibly meet with the Queen. You can take some shore leave if you want. I think Pinkie and AJ are going to the spice market for extra supplies."

"Thanks, Tw—uh, Captain, but I think I'll just tag along with you."

I nodded. "Well, good. You're always a help. Maybe we'll take in the town together later?"

"That would be great!"

= = =

Buzzy had cleared her schedule just in case I was the harbinger of bad and complicated news. I was sure it was just an overabundance of caution on her part and not because that was what she expected every time I came to town. Fairly sure.

In any case, my news was fairly dire and required a multi-pronged approach as a response. The Townies were a practical, tough bunch, but there was no way they would be able to directly fight off an invasion fleet if the Storm King arrived while I was elsewhere. So, the first order of business was to figure out an evacuation and underground resistance plan as an immediate response should the worst occur.

"I will get Vagabond House all set up for a possible looting spree," I told Buzzy. "The king's main motivation seems to be nabbing magical artifacts, and I can boobytrap the place top to bottom."

She slid her little half-moon glasses down her muzzle to peer over the top of them at me. "Won't that damage the palace?"

"Oh, it'll probably outright destroy a lot of it, but that's preferable to letting that overgrown baboon get his claws on some very dangerous weapons. I can always rebuild." I had a sudden inspiration and grinned. "In fact, if they occupy the town first, you should warn the Stormguard that the place is trapped! That'll convince them that you're motivated purely by self-interest, and I can layer in some deceptive false traps and time delays that'll make sure there's more of them deeper into the house before the real traps go off!"

Buzzy shoved her glasses back up her nose and turned to scribble a few notes. "I am certainly glad you're on our side, Twilight," she muttered around her quill.

= = =

I left Buzzy to distribute the plan (and a carefully worded version of the news about the Canterlot invasion) to the ward elders and other civic leaders, and strolled through the town toward the road that led up into the foothills where Vagabond House stood, overlooking the town. Spike (still disguised as Lance) walked by my side, smiling broadly.

"You seem cheerful, Spike. Any reason?"

He shrugged. "I dunno, I just like being here with you. There's always something cool going on."

"Hmn…" I pointed my horn at a colorful poster pinned to the side of a Neighsian take-away shop. "You mean something like that?"

He turned to look and then gasped. The poster prominently displayed a trio of young dragons performing acrobatics while breathing arabesques of multicolored flames. The poster was titled FIREDANCE: The Calligraphy of Flame and Motion, and it noted that performances would occur for three nights, starting an hour after sundown, in Bull's Head Plaza. Looking at the dates, I saw that the last performance would be that evening.

"That looks interesting," I said. "I don't think I've ever seen dragons cooperating like that, particularly in an artistic endeavor. We should go see it."

Spike nodded vigorously, not taking his eyes off the poster. "Yeah, that would be awesome!"

I let him stare at it for a little while longer and then gently nudged him onward.

Ensign Shrrbrgrth (everypony calls her Sherbet) had arrived at Vagabond House before us and had transformed into a convincing copy of my Captain Blackmane disguise. I undressed, and while she was putting on my clothes, I used a shapeshifting spell to become the Dark Queen of Twilight Town. It may seem like a silly bit of theatrical nonsense to most of my readers (and in truth, it seems that way to me sometimes), but it works well enough for my purposes.[1]

[1] Ponies tend to respond better to offices, roles, and symbols than to real individuals—even in an officially anarchic monarchy. Or is it a monarchical anarchy? Anarchy with specific exceptions? I'll have to think about that when I have time. No, Spike! Don't write that down; just put in the first bit.

Blackmane, Midshippony Lance, and I had brunch together out on the eastern terrace, in full view of the town. It had been a while since I'd been able to sit and chat with my ensign about anything other than ship's business, and aside from being a necessary bit of subterfuge, it was a very enjoyable hour and a half.

After the meal we retired to the interior of the house. Sherbet resumed her normal shape and joined Spike in the guest lounge where Ajo (my majordomo, a nomadic ass from Equestria's southern deserts) had set out a wooden case containing all of the comic issues he had collected since Spike had last visited. Sherbet volunteered to enjoy them with Spike while I took care of a little business of my own.

I shed the Queen Twilight form and shrugged back into my aeronaut's coat before continuing deeper into the house to a secure workshop. I needed a little time to work some complex and delicate spells, and the coat had a lot of protections woven into it. Not that I had any doubts about my own competence, but the number of times I had been unfortunately interrupted at critical phases had made me extremely cautious, particularly with magics that might suck me into the void between universes if they went wrong.

And yes, I locked the door behind me.

I had finished working and was cleaning up my equipment and sorting the various amulets and power storage gems back into their hidden sleeves in my coat when there was a quiet knock at the door.

"Yes?" I called out.

"I don't want to bother you, Twi, but will you be done soon? It's getting kind of late."

I glanced at the little brass clock on the wall and saw that I had been at work for over six hours. I unbolted the door and swung it open.

"Sorry, Spike. I lost track of the time, but I've just about finished up here. Do you want to grab something to eat now or wait until we get back to Nebula?"

"Uh…" He glanced at the clock. "Well, the show is going to start soon…"

I had forgotten the performance I had promised to take him to! "Oh, right, right! Can you make do with snacks from the street vendors? I might have some rubies in one of these pockets."

"Sure, but these came for you while you were working, and you might want to deal with them?" He was holding several folded sheets of paper in his claws. "I could go on by myself, if—"

"Nonsense! I want to see the show with you. I'll look at the messages later." I hesitated. "Any of them marked urgent?"

He sighed. "All but two of them."

I gritted my teeth. "Doesn't matter. Just let me change…" I took off my coat and called up Petunia's Polymorph and resumed my Queenly form. "Sherbet!"

The changeling peered around the corner at the end of the hallway. "Yes, Captain?"

"Can you zip over to Nebula and let Ket know where we'll be? Tell her to deal with anything short of an actual invasion, will you? I'll glance over the messages at the performance."

"Yes ma'am!" She resumed my Blackmane disguise between one breath and the next, picked up my coat, and trotted off.

"Come on, Spike!"

He hesitated. "Is that okay? I mean, you're being the Queen right now, and I'm…"

"Oh, right! Take off the disguise amulet. Nobody will blink if I show up with a dragon in tow."

It only took a minute or so for me to fly us down to Bull's Head Plaza. The sun had already set, but there was still enough light for the crowd below to clearly see me as I circled overhead. Several of them called out greetings and there were whistles and cheers as I swooped low overhead. It was a market night, so the square and connecting streets were crowded with booths and shoppers. I stooped, aiming for the bit of pavement in front of the big stage near the Aurocks column. Townies hurriedly pushed aside to clear space for me to land, and a wave of bowing swept outward as soon as my hooves hit the cobbles.

"Rise! Rise, my lovely subjects! No formalities tonight. We have come to enjoy the show along with you all."

There was more applause and cheering, then the crowd settled down to wait. A dark golden dragon snout peered out through a slit in the curtain, and then three kirin musicians carried their instruments out and began setting up along one side of the stage.

Moments later, Talon, the black griffin guard, landed at my side, and saluted. "Good evening, Your Majesty. May I be of assistance?"

"Hello... Talon, isn't it? On duty tonight?"

If he was surprised I knew his name, he didn't show it.

"Yes, ma'am. No, ma'am, I'm not on duty tonight, I just came to see the show again, but I am always at your service."

"'Again?'" Spike asked. "Is it that good?"

Talon's eyes flicked from mine to Spike's and back again.

"Speak freely, Talon," I told him. "Don't be nervous, or I'll order you to go drink pints of cider until you relax."

"That's a joke," Spike stage-whispered to him from behind an upraised palm. Then he held out his hand and curled it into a fist. "I'm Spike by the way. Equestrian Cultural Ambassador Plenipotentiary Emeritus to Twilight Town.[2] Pleased to meet you!"

[2] He was, of course, no such thing. The title didn't even make any sense. Not that many do. In fact, a good touchstone is to assume the longer the title, the less importance one should attach to it. At one point several years before, Spike had held the actual position of Sub Grand Worthy Administrative Minister of the Society for Appreciation of Illustrative Literature. In other words, he was the vice-president of a Canterlot comics club.

"Pleased to meet you Ambassador Spike." Talon gave him a hoof-bump even though no actual hooves were involved.

"Just Spike is fine! So you've already seen the show?"

I looked through the notes while they chatted, and sorted them into order by importance. There was only one that really needed to be answered immediately and I scribbled my response on the back of the paper and teleported it to Nebula's quarterdeck. Ket would be on watch there and would sort out the situation for me.

Shortly afterward, the show began and it was unexpectedly wonderful. Simply describing it can't convey how enchanting it was, because it can be summed up as three young dragons performing aerial gymnastics in time to music while using their fire breath as both illumination and to make beautiful shapes in the air. That's ludicrously inadequate, but that was the heart of it. It's like describing an incredibly skillful painting as, "Some paint, smeared over a canvas."

Aside from how pretty it was, the most impressive thing about the dragons' performance was their precision. They wove around each other so closely that if their wingbeats hadn't been perfectly coordinated, they would have collided. Just their flying alone would have been impressive, but the addition of their fire breath made the display mesmerizing. Their gouts of flame often deliberately spattered off of each other, guided into fantastic sprays by the exact curve of a wing or tail. Think of fireworks as living, breathing creatures, and you might come close to getting an idea what it was like.

They did things with their fire that I didn't know were possible. I stole a couple of glances over at Spike after some of the most amazing bits, and he seemed just as surprised as I was. How three different colored streams of fire could mingle and come out again as completely different hues and shapes was beyond my understanding.

The finale involved a canopy of flammable ribbons and powder that was scattered in the air before being ignited, loops and streams of flame dropping around the necks and shoulders of the dragons as they landed in a cheerleader sort of pyramid downstage.

The crowd went wild, cheering, hoof-stomping, ululating, and loudly proclaiming their appreciation in various species-dependent ways. I glanced at Spike and he was frantically beating his claws together and shouting, "Woo-hoo!" in between spouting gouts of his own flame. I'm sure he had appreciated the aesthetics of the show on its own merits, but I think it didn't hurt that the acrobats were all young females. Coins rained down into the basket that one of the kirin musicians had placed at the forward edge of the stage.

"Twi—" Spike caught and corrected himself as he urgently whispered into my ear. "Uh, I mean Your Majesty, can we give them some money? I don't have any with me."

"Oh, I'll do better than that," I told him, and stepped toward the stage.

Even in Twilight Town, dragons were rare, and the performers had taken note of Spike where he stood by my shoulder. If the presence of a huge, dark alicorn and one of their own kind had made them nervous, it didn't show at all during the performance. But as I approached them and the crowd went silent, they did exchange uncertain glances. The biggest one in the middle elbowed the others and they bowed as I loomed over them.

"I don't impress easily," I said to them, pitching my voice to carry across the plaza, "but you have certainly managed to achieve that tonight." I lit my horn and pumped a lot of wasteful and turbulent mana into the simple teleport spell to make it as showy as possible. "I like to encourage this sort of thing."

The spell activated with a loud bang and a brilliant flash of light, and the little basket on the stage nearly vanished under a heap of gold and jewels. I had 'ported it in a couple of hoofspans above the basket so that it clattered and rang as it fell. The dragons gawped, and after a moment, the leader of the troupe bowed to me again. "Thank you so much, Your Majesty!"

"It is well deserved. Thank you for bringing your wonderful show to my kingdom. Now please excuse me, I have important business to discuss with Ambassador Spike." I turned to my left and added, "With me, Talon."

Spike and I leaped into the air and Talon followed at a precise and unvarying distance behind and to the left of me. I was willing to bet that it was exactly the distance prescribed in the guard manual.[3]

[3] I didn't know for sure that there was a guard manual, but given the personality type that formed the Town Guard in the first place, its existence was another safe bet.

"You called me Ambassador!" Spike chuckled. "You know that was just a joke, right?"

"Well it isn't any longer. I named you in front of witnesses, and that makes it official. Don't worry, the duties won't be onerous, and titles like that are sure to impress… Well, for example, pretty young acrobats, perhaps?"

Spike sputtered, started to say something, sputtered again, and finally managed something like, "Uhngh?"

"We'll be in town for another day or two. Maybe you can offer to show them around or treat them to a meal at that Percheron fusion restaurant you like so much? As an ambassador, getting to know foreign artists, for cultural exchange purposes of course, would be part of your job."

I swear, I could feel the heat of his blush from a couple of lengths away. "You're the greatest, Twi!"

Well, who am I to argue with an official ambassadorial evaluation like that?

= = =

=

Author's Note

11 Business as Unusual

Chapter Eleven - Business as Unusual

Talon had never been inside Vagabond House before, so I gave him the two-bit tour. I told the eager young griffin that he was to assist "Ambassador" Spike for the next day or two, whenever he was needed.

"I will inform the lieutenant, ma'am. He will change my schedule to accommodate that, and add Terror onto the duty, so that we will have day and night coverage, if that suits you."

It took me a second to realize that Terror was a name and not a motivational tactic of questionable legitimacy. "Terror?"

"Oh yes, ma'am, she's new. Joined the griffin squadron just last spring, but she's very sharp."

I had several questions. I hadn't known until that moment that my guard had a griffin squadron, and two anomalous names, both beginning with the same letter as mine did? I hated to add to her workload, but perhaps I should ask Buzzy to change her bi-anual reports to monthly, and put a little more scrutiny on social trends. What I said to Talon was, "That sounds fine. Why don't you and Terror bunk here in the guardroom near the main gate? That way you will be immediately available whenever Spike needs you. I'll write out a quick note for your lieutenant now."

I did so, and when he had gone to deliver it, I spoke with Spike about his new position. "It's not just a sinecure, or an excuse to cozy up to a few dragon cuties, you understand?"

"Sure! Uh… But what, exactly, is a sinecure?"

"If you can't get it from context, you know where the dictionaries are shelved."

"Awwww…"

"Seriously though, cordial relations with the dragons is something I very much want to promote. Make sure they know they're welcome here, as well as any other artists or artisans. I wouldn't mind a permanent population of that sort if they felt so inclined."

"Got it, Twi!"

"And ask them why they came all the way out here for a stop on their tour if you get the chance. I think that scheduling only three shows meant they were just testing the waters."

"They have to think it was a success now!" He said. "There were three nicely aged rubies in that wad you popped into their basket."

"Well then, if their schedule is flexible, you might convince them to extend their run for another couple of days. I know there are several of the Nebulas[1] that would really enjoy that show. Rarity would probably be able to articulate exactly why some of it was so spectacular."

[1] A ship's crew is traditionally known by the name of the ship. I used to be bothered that everypony used the incorrect plural of nebula (i.e. not nebulae), but then I decided it was like the difference between a school of similar fish, and a group of fishes from several different species. Several dictionaries published in Twilight Town and allied states now reflect this usage.

"I'll give it a try. Hey, does that mean I'll be sleeping up here at the House for the next couple of nights?"

"If you don't mind. It'll fit in better with your new position and you won't have to be swapping in and out of your disguise to go back and forth. Speaking of which, I'd better get my own disguise back on and get back to the ship. If you need anything, ask Ajo or send a message."

= = =

When I got back to Nebula, I was greeted by a sudden small crowd, all clamoring for my attention. I did a bit of mental triage based on the notes I had received and said, "One at a time! Ket, you first…" Then I spotted Tempest's black eye. "No, you first. What happened?"

"This?" She jabbed a hoof at her puffy face. "Just a little tussle. One of them got in a lucky shot. No big deal."

I really wanted to know the details, but there were more pressing matters. "Anycreature dead or permanently injured?"

"No." She waved her hoof dismissively. "Just a little disagreement."

I sadly recalled a time when captaining an airship was more like an adventure and less like foalsitting.

"Fine. Ket?"

"Nope!" Pinkie called out, shouldering her way through the crowd. She had a big tray piled with food balanced on her rump. "Eat first!"

I suddenly realized I hadn't eaten since brunch, and the smell of fresh, steaming pasta primavera made my stomach wake up and growl. I don't know how Pinkie had known I'd forgotten to eat, but fortunately I've got a mental filing cabinet labeled "Wild Magic" that I use to ignore events like that, so that I don't obsess over them.

Ket grinned and waved her forward. "Go ahead, Captain. I can give you my report while you eat."

It only took an hour or so to get most things squared away. Ket and Rarity had secured a cargo that would seem entirely plausible, and arranged for the items to be carted to our mooring tower the next day.

"Good price on this stuff," I observed, going over the paperwork.

"Yes, well…" Rarity trailed off.

Ket grinned, flashing her incisors. "We got Lucky."

Believe it or not, I heard the capital letter. "Ah?"

"Everypony said that Old Garret knew all there was to know about trading with the south—" Rarity continued, "—but that nopony could pry the information out of his beak with a crowbar."

I found myself grinning. "How long did it take her?"

"Half an hour!" Rarity stomped an exasperated hoof on the deck. "The cargo was from his personal stores, all selected for trading in the south, and he sold it to us at a discount because he had just decided this morning that, with all this Storm King nonsense going on, a trip down there was too risky." Evidently, she was a little miffed at having been supplanted as Nebula's premier deal-maker.

Ket chuckled. "We would have been back sooner, but Lucky had to look at all of the pictures of his grandchicks. He even gave her this native art piece he had hanging on the wall of his parlor. Said it would be good luck for us!"

"Not that we seem to be in short supply of that," I observed dryly. "Where is Lucky now?"

"Doing a little shopping and exploring on her own," Rarity said. "I gave her some cash—as a negotiator's fee, I suppose? I normally wouldn't let a newbie wander around the Town alone at night, but I don't think there'll be any problems for her."

I had a slight twinge of conscience at the thought of her alone, but it hadn't anything to do with her safety.

Other supply issues were settled, including some unexpected ones. While she had been on the rocks,[2] Zephirine (a unicorn from Zanzebra who I had hired on as a deckhoof a few years back) had found a few old books about traveling in the southern deserts and bought them, thinking I might be interested.

[2] "On the rocks" is aeronaut slang for being ashore, or on the ground.

"You certainly have a nose for books, Ms. Drouhin," I told her, levitating twice what she had paid for them out of my coat pocket and floating the coins over to her. "This one is very old!"

I flipped open the unmarked cover and the first few blank pages, to read:

Þe Booke of Þe High Songge

Þys booke hath manie and divers tales of Þe childes of olde Anubiya and hundes of Þe stone kyne, alle contained wythin a flourishing stile, and a savory kind of learning, which delighteth, holdeth, and rejoiceth Þe reader marvellously.

Okay, then! That one would have to wait until I was well-rested and had a Middle Equuish dictionary to hoof.

The other two were a book on general outfitting and organizing exploratory journeys rather oddly titled The Art of Travel, and Travels in Equestria Deserta, which seemed much more promising.

"Good work!" I told her as I teleported the books to my cabin.

Ralf had been remarkably successful at getting spare engine parts, and had located a small crystal-powered metal lathe that he recommended for purchase. "With lathe and raw stock, Ralf can make many parts. No need for carrying lots of spares."

I gave it some thought and made a decision. "Alright. Go ahead and buy it tomorrow, as well as a good supply of stock, but I still want a full range of critical spares on board, anyway. We may want to make repairs in a hurry."

A piece of bad news was that Mr. Hawser hadn't been able to get any decent charts of the area. He spread the single small-scale one he had been able to find across the deck and tapped with his hoof. "Most merchants hire local pilots at villages around the edges of the wildlands here and here. The only well-known route is through Klugetown—" Another tap. "—and along the western edge here, the land is all broken bluffs and rock spires. Dangerous as Tartarus to fly through unless you know the place and winds. The rest…" He swept his hoof across the mostly blank area that stretched across the bottom third of the continent. "Your guess is as good as mine."

I turned to Tempest who was lounging against the mainmast and gently prodding her swollen eye. "Where is the Storm King's fleet likely to be?"

She shrugged. "There were three fleets, Northern, Eastern, and Western." She grinned. "We all know what happened to the Northern Fleet, so that leaves two. They were supposed to sweep up each coast after the fall of Canterlot, securing towns and cities as they went, but those plans have probably changed. If I know the Storm King, he'll go for quick grabs after the biggest magical items he knows about, hoping to beef up his forces."

"Makes sense." I nodded. "So where and what are the artifact's he'll go after?"

Tempest walked over to peer at the map. "Aside from here in Twilight Town? The best targets would probably be Mt. Aris." She pointed to a mountainous island off the southeastern tip of the continent. "Some kind of enchanted pearl. I think he made a grab for it a couple of years ago, and flubbed it, but there was a lot of talk in the fleet about a better way to go at it. Hm... Maybe not so good for a quick grab, then." Her hoof swung to the north. "There's a temple in the Forbidden Jungle that has an oracle stone. Over on this side of the continent, there's the Caves of Conundrum. They've supposedly got a gigantic crystal that shoots beams of fire." She looked up and shrugged. "All this is mostly rumor, of course, but the King is obsessed with magical trinkets, and will chase down nearly any breezie-story."

I knew there were places known for ancient magic that she hadn't mentioned. "What about Somnambula or the Arimaspi mountains?" I asked.

"Nothing specific that I can remember, but Somnambula is all about mysticism and personal magic, and the King likes the sort of stuff that can blow holes in things. Arimaspi territory is worse than the Conundrum badlands for airships, and the natives are huge, savage, and scared the biscuits out of the King's Elite Guard that scouted the place. That one is probably way down the list into the 'Last Resort' category."

I nodded. Our best bet for catching the King unaware would be Conundrum. Yes, he might be with the other fleet, and Cadance had mentioned seeing an island in her vision, but I thought it much more likely he would want to scoop up something like the fire crystal personally. Also, the thought of having Nebula between him and my town was comforting.

"All right then. Ket, we sail tomorrow night at four bells in the Middle Watch. Run through your disguise inventory and drop hints around town that we will be heading for the Forbidden Jungle. Mr. Hawser, give one last try at getting some decent charts of the Conundrum badlands tomorrow, and then get Nebula rigged and situated for a departure under canvas. No lights, no bells, no engines. I don't want anypony to realize we're gone until they wake up in the morning."

They acknowledged their orders and repeated them back to me.

"Oh, and is Ms. Ao aboard?"

"No, Captain, but she said she would be back aboard before the Middle Watch."

"Good. Let her know the plan when she gets back and then send her down to my cabin. Have someone wake me for the Forenoon Watch."

"Captain?"

"Yes, Ms. Tempest?" Huh. A slip of the tongue there. By Ms-ing her, I had informally confirmed her as an Ordinary Aeronaut, whereas technically she was still a prisoner of war. You may not believe it, but I hate to reduce ponies to categorical checkboxes. Yes, it is a useful thing and essential to any bureaucratic or legal system, but the problem is that any simplistic categorization is almost always inaccurate and misleading if a pony wants to consider the bigger picture.

"I would like to speak with you—privately."

I didn't see the harm. "Alright. But get Dr. Woundwort to put a poultice on that eye of yours first. I'll be in my cabin when you're finished."

Getting her shiner tended to gave me time to get settled in, sort out several items I'd brought over from the palace, and bring my pocket notebook up to date. When she knocked on my cabin door, I was sitting at the big table, double checking my to-do list for the next day.

"Come in."

She entered, in a brisk and efficient manner, her injured eye covered with a neat white gauze pad.

"Pull up a cushion," I told her. "What's on your mind?"

"I find this place hard to believe," she said.

I assumed she didn't mean the captain's cabin, as nice as it was. "You mean the Town?"

"Yes. I've seen a lot of isolated trade towns, and they're always full of unscrupulous characters; bandits, runaways, grifters, mystics, smugglers, thugs, spies, outcasts, and adventurers. You've got all of that and more here, but there's something that's missing."

I thought I knew where she was heading, but satisfied myself with a neutral, "And?"

She grinned. "It's certainly not danger. I spent the day pushing the boundaries of the local customs you mentioned, and got this for my troubles." She pointed at her eye. "It was seven to one, by the way. Just in case you're thinking I've lost my edge. But, ordinarily…"

She trailed off and thought for a second. "When's the last time a pony got knifed in a back alley here?"

"What?" I angrily snapped my notebook closed. "The Town can be rough, but that sort of thing doesn't happen here!"

"That's my point! It's like there's a limit that's baked into everypony's brains! I had to push those bruisers down at the tavern way beyond what most creatures would tolerate before they got fed up and threw hooves. In places like Klugetown, it's everycreature for themselves, and they drag bodies out of the alleys nearly every morning, but here it's like they're all—"

"Friends?" I said, grinning.

She just stared at me for a while. "Is it some sort of spell?"

"Friendship is magic, but no, not the way you mean."

"Then…?"

"I spent somewhat over a decade modeling the behavior I wanted to see from my subjects and rewarding them when they behaved well. I treated each and every one of them fairly and equally. It wasn't long before they came to think of friendship and harmony as the default state of living, and not long after that, they didn't think much about it at all; it was just reflexive."

Tempest scowled. "It can't be that simple!"

I sighed. "I just condensed a dozen years of very messy and half-unintentional social engineering into a few sentences; of course it isn't that simple! But it did work out pretty well in the end."

She stared at me for an awfully long time, and then said, "And you let just anypony live here if they want to?"

"As long as they play nice." I leaned over the table, a wide smile spreading across my muzzle as I brought it very close to hers. "Can you play nice, Tempest?"

One of the benefits of her coat color was that it hid bruises very well. One of its downsides is that it did the same for blushes. I really hoped I had made her blush, but I'd never know for sure.

She turned her head and cleared her throat before she replied quietly. "If it meant I could live here when this whole mess is over? I think I could give it a shot."

I sat back, still smiling.

= = =

A little before midnight there came another knock on my door.

I was curled up in my favorite spot on the cushion-strewn bench behind the rudder post, reading Equestria Deserta[3]and scribbling in my notebook. I called out, "Come in," slipped a bookmark into the book, and levitated some papers over from the table. "Ao, I'd like to go over these… Oh."

[3] It had been written by a pony named Doughy, which I thought was a little ill-fitting for an explorer, particularly one who traveled in sunburnt lands. Perhaps he had been a baker rebelling against his family trade? I also found the title strange as the great southern deserts had never been officially claimed for Celestia's kingdom.

"Sorry, Captain," Lucky Charm said, peering past the half-open door. "If you're busy, I can come back later."

"I'm just waiting for Ao to get back. Come on in."

She came in levitating—something along with her. She floated it between us so I could get a better look at it. "Mr. Garret, that nice old griffin, gave me this. I don't really have any place to keep it, so I thought you might like it?"

At first glance, the thing looked like an irregular, hoofmade doormat. It was flat and roughly rectangular, made of bundled, flattened grass stalks bound together with thin twine in a very open weave. About a dozen colored glass beads of different sizes were fastened to various intersections of some of the stalks, in no pattern I could discern.

"It's—" I stared at it, cocking my head to one side. "—interesting. May I?"

She nodded and I took it out of her field, bringing it much closer. Despite the haphazard look of the thing, it was quite sturdy, and the cordwork was very clean and careful. A good deal of care had gone into placing the stalks and beads in precise locations.

"This is fascinating," I said to Lucky. It wasn't beautiful, but it wasn't exactly unbeautiful, either. "Did Mr. Garret say where it came from?"

"I think it was something like Hay Sung?

That rang a bell. I floated over the oldest one of the books Zeph had found and flipped it open to check. "Could that have been 'High Song'?"

"Oh, yeah! That sounds right!"

I floated the mat over to the table and placed it carefully next to the big log book."Thank you very much, Lucky. It's very kind of you."

She rewarded me with a brilliant, sweet smile, and I'd like to think that it had absolutely no influence on my impulsive decision.

"Do you have any plans for where you'll go next?"

Her smile faded. "No. I haven't given it much thought, but I'll figure out something. I always do."

"You know we will be going on a risky mission very soon, right?"

She nodded, uncertainly.

"Have you ever considered a career in pir—uh—privateering?"

She gaped at me for a second and then squealed, "Really? Really, really, really?" Then, she flung herself around my neck and gave me a joyful hug. Then, she gasped and jumped back. "Sorry, Blackmane, ma'am, Captain!" She saluted, using her left hoof.

"Get some sleep, and in the morning you can sign the papers. I will have Ms. Zashira issue you a sea chest and assign you to a watch. FIrst thing you'll do will be to learn all the lines."

"Lines? Like in a play?"

I did not roll my eyes. "No. Lines as in cordage. Your adventurous life as an aeronaut will mostly consist of pulling on bits of rope for the first few months. At least when you're not scraping paint or swabbing the deck."

"Oh." Her smile faded just the tiniest bit.

= = =

=

Author's Note

12 Between the Dreams

12 Between the Dreams

Chapter Twelve - Between the Dreams

Luna made time for a visit in the Dreamlands that night. I had been sending her little notes each day via Spike's dragon fire, and when she didn't receive one in a timely fashion, she decided to check in on me.

We stood on the edge of a precipice overlooking a vast dark plain pocked with rock formations and scarred by dry streambeds. In the far distance, dim lights moved slowly.

"Is this a metaphor for the unknown?" I asked her.

She tapped my shoulder with a hooftip, making my armor jangle. "The dangerous unknown by the signs."

"Odd. I'm not really nervous about our mission. Things seem to be going quite well."

"Ah. That would explain him." Luna pointed down at my forehooves. There between them was a tiny version of the Storm King, ranting and swinging a staff in a threatening manner. Well, it would have been threatening if he hadn't been small enough to ride a mouse.

I flicked him over the edge of the cliff with my hooftip. "I can only hope our meeting in the real world will go this well. But if I'm not subconsciously fretting over encountering the Storm Drain, why all this?"

Luna moved closer to me, putting one wing across my back and pointing toward the horizon with the other. "Look there dearest, and tell me what you feel."

The lights that moved in the darkness flicked as if they were passing behind structures too dim to be seen. "I don't see much—"

"But what do you feel?"

"Uh… Curiosity? Or maybe…" No, there was no "maybe" about it. "Excitement! I'm excited to… To go, to find out!"

Her wing hug tightened on me and she placed her cheek against mine, but said nothing. I nuzzled her and reached across my chest with a wing to stroke her, and that was when I noticed the heavy silver shackles around her forelegs. They were studded with gems and edged with gold filigree, but they were attached to thick iron chains that stretched back into the distance behind us.

"Luna! What—" As soon as I spoke, the chains snapped tight and dragged her away from me.

= = =

I woke up in my bunk shouting her name, my forelegs reaching out for her.

There is some research indicating that swearing is effective at relieving stress. If the correlation was linear, I would have been the most serene pony for leagues around. As it was, it appeared to be an asymptotic relationship, and so I went on deck only mildly irritated rather than furious.

The sky in the east was lightening, and I judged it to be around an hour before the watch change. The wind was a gentle northerly and carried the smell of baking bread from the town below.

Ms. Clove Hitch was on the quarterdeck with a coffee mug in the crook of her pastern. She nodded to me. "Cap'n."

"All quiet?"

"Some small explosions over near the haymarket 'bout two hours ago. Probably fireworks, party, something like that. No screams, nothing caught fire. I put it in the log book, anyway. Otherwise, dead boring."

"I can take the watch if you like. I need to pace and grumble a bit."

She gave me a grin and said "Thank you kindly, Captain. I never say no to an extra bit of kip. You have the watch."

"Sweet dreams," I told her as she headed below. Yes, there may have been a bit of a sour edge in my voice, but I really meant it.

I watched the Town slowly wake up. First the little bakery and newspaper carts raced around, making their morning deliveries. Then the restaurants that served breakfast began opening and putting out their menu boards and streetside tables. Bigger carts coming from the surrounding farms rolled in next, and the farmers started putting up their stands in Nova Square. Slowly, the streets filled with every sort of creature, all going about their daily routine. It was even more soothing than swearing.

= = =

My day, despite having begun badly, went very well.

After breakfast we had Lucky Charm sign the ship's articles, and Applejack began showing her the ropes.

"This here is the aft starboard stun'sl starboard sheet, and this is the aft starboard stun'sl larboard sheet. The aft starboard stun'sl outhaul is down there on the main starboard bulwark pin rail in the waist, See it there?"

"Wow," said Lucky, running her gaze over the dozens of lines made fast to the various pin rails around the main deck. "I don't know if I'll ever be able to remember all these."

"It ain't all that hard. There's a system for most of 'em. And the ones that are just plain weird, are goofy enough to stick in yer memory."

"Goofy?"

"Yup! What d'ya think a line that ties up a dingy or rowboat is called?"

"Um… a dockline?"

"Good guess, but nope! Ain't it obvious it'd be called a 'painter'?"

"You're kidding!"

"I wish I was. What do ya think is Pinkie's favorite line?"

"No idea, unless there's one that's called cake or doughnuts or something."

"It's the snotter."

Lucky laughed out loud. "Oh, now I know you're pulling my tail!"

AJ grinned and called out to Halter Hitch who was polishing brightwork nearby. "Hey, Halter! Point at the snotter for me, will ya?"

He frowned in puzzlement, but stuck out a hoof. "It's right where it always is, Ms. Calvados."

"Thanks! The new deckhoof thinks I'm makin' up these names!"

"Oh, really?" His frown turned to a slight grin. "Have you shown her the eeby-deeby yet?"

Luck gaped for a second and then burst out laughing. Yes, she was in good hooves.

I trotted over to the town hall and had coffee and a good chat with Buzzy, and we exchanged thankfully short to-do lists.

Then I had a meeting with Spike up at the House. I had him send a short reassuring note to Luna, and he told me that the dragon acrobats had decided to put on an encore performance and he had arranged to help them amend their posters and spread the word.

"Check it out, Twi!" He held up one of the posters that had several strange glyphs scrawled across it. "They all signed it for me! I'm going to ask Ajo to get it framed so I can hang it in my room."

"Great! I assume you'll be going to the last show?"

"Oh, yeah! Wouldn't miss it!"

"Good! We'll be leaving tonight, and that will be a nice high note to end our visit on."

"Tonight?" Spike's face fell.

"Yes, why?"

"Oh, it's just that Slasher invited me to the party afterward, and…"

Oh. Oh. "And?" I grinned at him.

He did blush, but not quite as much as I had expected him to. "And I like her, and I think she likes me, and she's really, really cute! I mean, you've seen her!"

Yes, I had, but if Spike thought a sinuous length of scales equipped with hooked claws, razor fangs, and a blowtorch breath named Slasher was "cute" who was I to argue with him?

"Hm… Does a one o'clock curfew work for you?"

His face lit up.[1]"Really?"

[1] Not literally. This is a distinction that should be made when speaking of dragons.

"Yes, but that's a hard deadline. If you aren't on deck when the last grain of sand drops, I will teleport you aboard, understand?"

"Sure, Twi! I… Oh hey, wait. That would be cool, right? Just pop, and I'm gone? Plus, that would give me a few more minutes with Slasher! Yeah, do that!"

Oh sacred stars, he really had it bad.

"Fine, just make sure you've got a bit of space around you at the time. No last-second goodbye kisses, or I might accidentally grab your girlfriend, too."

He gave absolutely no sign that he had heard me. Apparently, the words "kisses" and "girlfriend" had caused his higher brain functions to seize up.

"Spike!"

"Huh? Oh, right! Yeah Twi, I promise!"

I went by a couple of my favorite booksellers on the way back to grab lunch aboard Nebula, and picked up a few new light novels separated into numbered signatures[2] for the ship's library.

[2] This was a common practice aboard vessels that made long passages. It allowed a crewpony to read the first bit of a book and then pass it along, so that quite a lot of the crew could be enjoying the book without waiting for one pony to read completely through it.

I had lunch in my cabin so that I could read bits of Equestria Deserta and make notes as I ate. I left the door dogged open so that Nebulas could come and go with questions or reports, without me having to shout "Come in!" with my mouth full every few minutes.

Fluttershy had come in to make a suggestion about where to install a new speaking tube but trailed off when she saw the grass mat/thing Lucky had given me lying on my table. "Oh! This is nice! Dad used to collect them, but I've never seen one quite like this. Where did you get it?"

"You know what this is?"

She nodded. "It's an antique wind chart. It's in beautiful condition, too."

It still looked like abstract art to me. "A chart? How do you read it?"

"Let me think…" She smiled. "Dad used to let me snuggle up next to him on the big couch and he'd show me his collection and talk about them. I forget the word,[3] but the map shows you how the winds should feel at any given point. The beads are landmarks, and these strands are prevailing winds, the thicker the lines, the stronger the winds. Different colors and shapes of beads can mean things, and these little lines and swirls…" She broke off frowning. "I'm sorry, but it was a long time ago, and I just don't remember much else."

[3] I later discovered that the technical term is "proprioceptive navigation," and it is rarely encountered outside of historical documents or Pegasus Universities.

"That's okay. I thought this was only a decoration, and now I've learned something new. You know how much I love that! Thank you, Fluttershy."

"You could hang it on the bulkhead above the chart table. It would look nice there."

"Good idea! That would be a fitting place for it."

The rest of the day I spent as Queen Twilight, walking around town and mingling with my subjects. Aside from a few little clandestine matters on Buzzy's to-do list, I just wandered around my favorite places having short chats with the Townies. Another strong custom in Town (that was also a point of pride with most creatures) was to treat me with respect, but never to fawn on me or crowd me, so it was something I liked to do whenever I had the chance.

Most creatures were surprised when they saw me. With my schedule, I only got to stroll through the town around once or twice a month at best. Their usual reaction was to bow and greet me with a smile. I had become quite a connoisseur of smiles. The unbelieving smile, the joyful smile, the nervous smile, and perhaps most importantly, the guilty smile.

The big gray stallion and his two friends that I ran into on Silverdrop Lane had very guilty smiles. "Y-your Majesty! How good to see you!"

I smiled back. I always do, but this time I showed my teeth. My very carnivorous teeth. The little griffin fluffed up in alarm, and the smaller stallion actually started sweating. "I know all about it," I said quietly.

The griffin panicked and crouched, preparing to flee into the sky, but I held his wings against his body with a little telekinesis.

"Please don't…" the gray stallion began.

"Why not?" I asked. It was a reasonable enough question, I thought. I let dark magic well up in my eyes and leak out like tears. Dark fumes hissed up from the cobbles where the drops fell.

"I'm so sorry!"

"You're only sorry you got caught. You may not believe this, but I don't care if you're sorry or not. I only care about your actions."

"I swear to you that we will make amends! We were idiots to think we could… We will undo it all, I promise!"

"Any oath you swear to me will be on your life and soul, you understand that?"

The little stallion seemed to be on the edge of fainting, but all three of them swore formally, three times, that they would undo the evil that they had done.

Once they had vanished back the way they had come, being very careful not to run, the bystanders who had witnessed the confrontation also remembered other places they urgently needed to be. I stood alone for a moment wondering what in the world that had been all about. I made a mental note to send their descriptions and cutie marks to Buzzy for her Potentially Naughty list. Maybe she would find out the details and explain them to me the next time I was in Town.

The presentation of scholastic and athletic awards at the Queen Twilight Middle School was a much more pleasant affair, and I spent longer than I had intended, listening to the young ones chatter on about important matters in their lives.

The Merchant Guild meeting was less pleasant and more predictable. It seemed that almost all the troubles facing the Guild's members could mostly be solved by a grant of royal funds. Oddly enough, nocreature claimed to be doing extraordinarily well enough to offer a payment into the crown treasury.

When I offered the most insistent Guild Master a loan of funds at a reasonable 25% interest, he and the others suddenly decided that they could manage to scrape by without an infusion of cash. Nevertheless, I signed an order loaning out two of my cargo ships to a young merchant who had proposed an intriguing scheme. (And for only 10% of her profits, too.)

It was late afternoon by then, and I wanted to get back to Nebula to check on the final preparations for departure. That meant a trip back to Vagabond House and then a stroll down to the mooring grounds as Captain Blackmane. Both were pleasant and uneventful.

Nebula hummed with efficient activity, and me poking my snoot into things just slowed the crew down, so I passed the word about the dragon show that evening, arranged for an early supper in my cabin for me and the gang, and retired to spend some time with my new books.

While passing through the chart room, I noticed that someone had hung up the woven chart where Fluttershy had suggested. It did look good there.

I really wanted to dive into The Book of the High Song, but it needed a good, uninterrupted chunk of my attention, so I decided to save it for the long leg of our journey over the South Lunar Sea to Seaward Shoals. I took a look at The Art of Travel instead.

It was a fascinating but not exactly sensible book. It presupposed that the reader was bereft of any equipment beyond the most basic and detailed how to cross rough, unfamiliar country on the assumption that most of the party couldn't fly or levitate. Then there was a section on what equipment was necessary for a party of explorers, including quite a lot of things that the first section assumed would be unavailable during the journey. Next was a section on aerial reconnaissance, with apparently unironic advice on how to choose "native guides" for "uninhabited" country.

All in all, the tone and advice in the book could have best been described as schizophrenic, even though each separate morsel of information seemed sensible enough in isolation. I scribbled bits of the more useful-sounding passages in my notebook until I realized what mindset had produced such a bewildering text. The author expected that things would go wrong in the most troublesome way possible, at the worst possible time.

They hadn't said it outright, but once I realized their basic assumption, it became utterly clear. I flipped ahead a bit, and saw instructions on how to dig a shallow well and purify foul water, which was immediately preceded by a section on how to store and carry water as well as how to estimate how much would be necessary to carry in nearly every situation. The author simply assumed that anypony with a good supply of clean water would almost certainly lose it somehow.

I decided to add the book to Nebula's permanent library,[4] and was wondering when I might have time to write a companion volume specifically in regards to airship travel, when Pinkie and Applejack bustled in carrying covered dishes and cutlery, and I had to clear the table.

[4] Which was not an entire cabin, unfortunately, but three big bookshelves in in the Captain's cabin. (And some other shelves scattered around the ship.)

The gang all decided to go see the show, along with several other Nebulas, including Tempest and Lucky. As I was not in the guise of the terrifying and beloved Queen, I found it necessary to distribute bits with a generous hoof to get us all good places near the stage.

At the end of the show, I dumped all the rest of the cash I had left in the basket on the stage. Everypony else gave generously and we talked about it all the way back to the mooring tower. Even Tempest and Rainbow Dash admitted to being impressed. As I had predicted, Rarity went on at length about the quality of the showmareship, and wondered aloud how some sort of (fireproof) costumes might enhance the performance.

There wasn't much left to do to prepare Nebula for departure, but I wasn't relaxed enough to read or write, so I wandered around and chatted with the crew while triple checking things.

Just before the watch change, I came on deck to see Applejack drilling Lucky by calling out the names of various lines. Lucky would then race over to the line and put a hoof on it and AJ would call out another.

The only time she hesitated was when AJ called out, "Eeby-deeby!"

Lucky took one hesitant misstep and then casually trotted over to the starboard rail and pointed toward Crescent Bay.

Applejack raised an eyebrow. "Where's that s'posed to be, Ms. Charm?"

Lucky grinned. "It's in the Sea Queen's locker, right next to the left-hoofed monkey wrench and the bucket of prop wash!"

AJ chucked. "Perfect marks, sugarcube! Git some rest now, an' I'll start you on the spars and yards tomorrow."

Lucky saluted (correctly), chirped out a cheery, "Yes, ma'am!" and headed for the fo'c'sle.

AJ turned to me as I came and stood beside her and said, "I surely do love startin' pups! Always eager and quick to learn."

"Do you think she's serious enough to steer her towards being a midshippony?"

"I reckon we ought to wait on that. By the time we git back home, it oughta be right obvious, an' who knows what's goin' to happen in the meantime."

"Mmm... I think I might give her a bit of tutoring on navigation and aeronautics, anyway."

AJ gave me a curious look.

"Just to pass the time," I said. I don't know why I felt defensive.

She shrugged. "Cain't hurt, I s'pose."

The watch changed and Ao took over on the quarterdeck. Zepherine brought her a mug of green tea and asked me if I wanted anything. My alicorn metabolism burned through caffeine at a prodigious rate, so I was always ready for a mug of coffee. I could have summoned one up, of course, but routine that approached ritual was comforting, so I asked Zeph to bring one up from the galley for me. Not that I needed comforting, Our little endeavor wasn't anywhere near the critical stage yet.

Ao and I chatted until Half Hitch turned the big hourglass for the second time and reached for the bell rope.

"Ware! 'Port on board!" I called out, warning everyone to clear the deck just aft of the mainmast which was our designated incoming teleport target area. I centered the entrance vortex on Spike's little tracking gem and triggered the spell.

He popped aboard, wings stretched out over his head, one arm raised, and claws spread as if he had been in the middle of waving.

I vaulted over the rail to the main deck. "Things went well?"

He gave me a dreamy smile as he lowered his arm and folded his wings. There were scorch marks on his cheeks and ear fins. "Oh yeah…"

"Good for you, lover-boy," I told him. "I want to hear all about it—tomorrow. Go get some sleep."

It is totally unacceptable behavior for a midshippony to hug his captain, but I let it slide that one time.

At four bells, we slipped our moorings and let the light prevailing breeze carry us out over Crescent Bay. We drifted slowly south and a bit west until the lights of the town and port were just specks on the horizon, and then spun up the engines enough to give us steerage. I calculated a rhumb line[5] that would take us to Seaward Shoals, and had Fluttershy set it as our course.

[5] A rhumb line (or loxodrome) is a line crossing all meridians of longitude at the same angle, i.e. a straight line path derived from a defined initial bearing. Unlike a great circle route, it isn't the shortest path between two points, but I wanted us to swing a bit wide of the Equestrian coast to avoid being spotted by anypony.

Once we were well on our way, I gave orders to wake me at the change to the Forenoon Watch, went below, and collapsed into my bunk. I had no real reason to feel so exhausted, but it was nice not to toss and turn before sleep claimed me.

= = =

"So…" Luna said. She was lying in front of me, staked to the ground beneath a mass of chains, ropes, and straps that creaked and rattled as she cocked her head to one side. "It seems you have some issues of concern?"

I lay a length away from her, bound and staked in a similar fashion. I couldn't raise my head enough to look directly at her because my bridle had been strapped down to a martingale that was so tight it was cutting into my chest. "Ya think?" I growled around a very uncomfortable snaffle bit.

She sighed and probably would have shaken her head sadly, if her bonds would have allowed it.

"Luna, can you please get rid of this stuff?"

"It is best to let it remain until you come to terms with the issues that created it."

"Well, it's not exactly subtle, is it? I'm obviously an irresponsible foal who's afraid of obligations—" I gave a jerk that made my own bonds creak and rattle. "—getting in her way! I'd much rather be snuggling with my sometimes irritating lover than running off to commit murder simply because it's a whole lot easier than diplomacy!"

Luna stared at me, unsmiling. "Stand up."

"With all this on me?"

"Wilt thou be defeated by mere bonds? Hast thou less strength than I?" She strained upward, the muscles in her legs, shoulders, and chest surging beneath her dark coat. A strap tore and then a chain snapped. The ripping of ropes and the popping of steel links parting became nearly continuous as she forced her way to her hooves. She shook her wings free and the shredded remains of her restraints sprayed outward like drops of mercury in the sudden, bright moonlight.

She looked down on me and repeated, "Stand up."

I stood. It was easy. My bonds transformed into beautiful golden strands that hung about me like sparkling spiderwebs.

"Chains more fitting for a powerful and comely mare, methinks," Luna said, offering me an open chest filled with even more superb jewelry. "Let me further adorn my beauteous leymare."

She lowered a golden necklace studded with diamonds over my head, and drew more items from the chest. A platinum peytral followed, and gorgeous filigree earrings. A chamfron inlaid with a mosaic of precious gems, and a crested saddle that seemed to have been carved out of a single enormous emerald settled down on me, and I realized that the stream of treasures was beginning to grow very heavy.

"Stop! No more!"

Luna paused, holding a magnificent coat of interwoven orichalcum links in her magic. It was studded with bejeweled medallions set with enchanted crystals that radiated immense magical energies. "Wouldst thou truly refuse such a priceless gift from your adoring lover?"

I couldn't help chuckling. "It's very nice, but I hope you kept the receipt. Message received, love. You are wiser that I am, and much, much better at dream symbolism."

Luna finally smiled. She banished all of the weighty jewelry with a wave of her wing. "Then take, at least, one heartfelt gift from me before we part."

It was a very nice kiss, indeed.

= = =

=

Author's Note

I swear, I am not making this goofy nautical stuff up!

13 Oh, Wilderness…

Chapter Thirteen - Oh, Wilderness…

We were well out of sight of land by the time the sun rose, and surrounded by nothing but empty air and water.

That's the thing about the deep sea and sky, they're an immediate sort of wilderness. In moments, the noise, bustle, and safety of a city can be left behind, and a pony has only her skill and wits to make her way in an uncaring world.

Even before I left Canterlot for Ponyville, there were days when I took up my old balloon and let the remnants of a weather front carry me away for a few hours, then set myself to figuring out a course for home. I could usually still see the Canterhorn, but searching for a favorable breeze took time, and I often had to climb and descend, zig and zag all over the sky to get back home.

Once or twice a curious pegasus had flown by and asked if I needed a tow. They meant well, but I was always just a bit irritated by the offer, as if it was an insult to my skill as a balloon pilot.

Nebula's cupola was just a bit bigger than the basket of my balloon, and it was nearly as quiet, particularly with her engines barely ticking over. I took over the station from Half Hitch halfway through the Forenoon watch. I'm not exactly sure why, except that it was a sort of comfort isolation similar to my youthful balloon voyages. Despite the jokes about my balloon's basket being the only place I could find to read uninterrupted, I never took anything but a logbook with me on those long-ago flights to nowhere, and I hadn't even donned my greatcoat for the climb up the mainmast.

I could have teleported, but it felt right to climb the ratlines like any other of the wingless crew. Even the pegasi did it in rough weather. I reached the crosstrees[1]where I had to squeeze past Mr. Landslide, a rather large earth pony who was Nebula's carpenter, who was fitting pieces of a new speaking tube, to get onto the dorsal catwalk.

[1] The large bits of timber that anchor the shrouds to the top of the mainmast where the topmast is stepped. On a sailing ship, they are obvious. On Nebula, they are hidden just below the top surface of her envelope.

I knocked a hoof against the underside of the hatch and announced myself, before climbing up into the cupola. Half[2] didn't seem surprised at all when I relieved him, and he went below without comment.

[2] Yes, we had three crewponies whose names ended in Hitch. (Which isn't all that uncommon in sailing communities.) When I first shortened his name, I used "Hitch," because I thought just "Half" sounded weird, but he insisted that only lubbers would let themselves be called Hitch.

The sky was nearly cloudless. I put my forehooves up on the forward edge of the cupola, closed my eyes, and spread my wings, letting the wind flow through my feathers. "Getting the feel of the sky," the old-timers called it.

It felt good.

I could have stayed up there all day, but two hours of quiet solitude before lunch was all I could steal from the day without feeling like I was shirking my duty. Besides, Pinkie had made her special Three-cheese Potato Casserole for lunch, and there were never any leftovers from that meal, not even for the Captain.

= = =

After lunch, Spike and I chatted about his evening. Perhaps "chat" is misleading. I mostly listened while he gushed about Slasher and how wonderful, smart, and pretty she was. He also told me that her troupe had decided to make Twilight Town a regular stop on their hopefully yearly tours. He said they often encountered other performing groups in their travels and would recommend the Town as a good spot despite its relative isolation.

"Well, it seems like an all-round diplomatic, commercial, and romantic success! Good job, Spike!"

I made some notes about looking into the possibility of an annual arts festival of some sort, and then settled down at the big table in my cabin to tackle The Book of the High Song.

The Middle Equuish wasn't too troublesome, except for the stumbling blocks of false cognates and colloquial phrases that were so deeply rooted in their time that they made no sense to a modern Equestrian. I had a couple of helpful reference books to hoof, but would have liked a couple more specific ones from my library back in Ponyville. I hadn't set off expecting to translate ancient manuscripts. I made some notes on a separate scroll to send to Luna, but I thought that some of the most puzzling passages might be too new for her to help with.

One thing was certain: according to the book there was a settlement of Diamond Dogs somewhere in the Great Southern Desert that had started out as a colony of ancient Anubia. It had grown into an "Empire" that had left no trace behind when it vanished.

No trace, except of course for the fairly new woven wind map hanging in my chart room, the book floating in front of me, and probably hundreds more artifacts that the lazy nags in the Canterlot University History Department had never bothered with because it would have been so much more difficult than simply cribbing bits out of Celestia's diary and old castle account books.[3] Forgive me for editorializing, but the state of historical and world geographical education in Equestria is truly shameful.[4]

[3] That is probably unfair of me, but scholastic provincialism makes me cranky.

[4] Related areas of study are not much better. The Chair of Ethnography at Windmane College once said to me, gesturing to the left and right, "Griffins are that way, zebras over there. What else does a civilized pony need to know?"

The book I was levitating held enough material for a dozen scholarly papers. Several ancient tablets unearthed amid the ruins of the Anubian city of Cur mentioned colonies that had traded with the Third Dynasty, but not their location. Evidently, ancient Anubia had been a greater seafaring power than anypony had realized.

Even though the text was a couple of centuries out of date, it could still contain invaluable information and I doggedly kept to my reading.

Dinner appeared on a tray next to me. It was a pile of sandwiches cut into bite-sized pieces that I could float into my mouth without even looking, and a mug of strong coffee.

Sometime later, Applejack cleared her throat. I waved a hoof at her in a "just a minute" motion.

"Git to the end o' that sentence an' then close the book, Twi."

That got me to look up. "Trouble?"

Applejack smiled. "Not as such, but it's near four in the mornin', and the gals thought y'oughta be rested in case we get dry-gulched by yetis or sky orcas or suchlike."

"There's no such thing as sky orcas. That's a myth."

"After the things we've seen?" She chuckled. "I wouldn't bet the farm on that if I was you."

"Fair point," I admitted. "But first, I need to finish this section. It's so fascinating! They had these cast bronze weights for merchants that represented different figures from their folklore."

"That's nice an' all but—"

"By choosing particular figures as they weighed out commodities, they could conduct a sort of silent second bargaining dialog based on the meaning of the figures." I pointed to a table of drawings in the book. "This coiled snake meant that the user suspected a trick, and this little one that looks like a wrapped package was used as reassurance, or an offer to be flexible."

"Twi, listen—"

"Oh, and this double crocodile shaped like an X is really neat! It refers to a story that—"

AJ shook her head sadly. "I purely hate to fight dirty, so I'm gonna apologize for this in advance." She looked me dead in the face and yawned. She put her front hooves together and stretched them up over her head. "Oooooh, I sure am tuckered out! Gotta hit the hay. Yep, I'm fixin' to be cozy as a raccoon in a crawl space." She yawned again in an even more exaggerated fashion.

"AJ, that's not going to work on me! I know you're not—not…" I couldn't help myself; I yawned. "Oh, horsefeathers!"

= = =

The sea and sky were just as empty the next morning when I came on deck. We were still too far out for coastal traffic, or even fishing fleets. I took a quick look at the logbook and watched Rarity and Tempest sparring and comparing notes in a miraculously friendly manner for a couple minutes while I finished my morning coffee, and then I headed below to get back to work.

Breakfast appeared, and then lunch somewhile afterwards. I had paused to consider a tricky line, so I noticed when Lucky came in to clear away the tray. "How are things going?" I asked her.

"Really well, Captain! Ms. Rain Storm is going to teach me to fight with a cutlass this afternoon!"

I took several deep, calming breaths before replying. "That's nice," I said.

As soon as the door closed behind her I teleported Rainbow Dash into the cabin. I was not overly gentle about it.

Dash floundered a bit after she popped in. Evidently she had been flying when I had grabbed her. "Whoa! What's up, Twi?"

"Are you out of your damned-to-Tartarus mind?"

"Yeah, well, hello to you too, Captain. What's got your tail in a twist? I told Ket I was going out scouting."

"You told Lucky you were going to teach her cutlass!"

"Oh, that? What's the problem? All the rest of the crew can handle a blade. Well, mostly."

"But she's Lucky!"

"Yeah, so she probably isn't gonna, like, stab herself in the hoof or something, right? If things go pear-shaped and we end up going hoof-to-hoof with some baddies, she's probably not going to get a scratch."

"Dash, listen to me very carefully and think."

Rainbow frowned, sat back on her haunches, and crossed her forelegs over her chest. "Yeah?"

"When you first picked up a sword, you got really good really fast. Natural athlete, great reflexes, right?"

She nodded, still frowning, but I could tell she was pleased by my assessment of her prowess.

"So what did you do that first time we got jumped by corsairs?"

She actually smiled then. "I kicked their butts!"

"Why?"

"What? What do you mean why? It was us or them! I'd been practicing for, like, ever!"

"Because you were looking forward to a fight."

She shrugged. "Hey, I don't mind a dust-up when—"

"No," I interrupted her. "You wanted a fight. You wanted to prove just how good you were with a blade."

"Uh… Yeah, I guess. So?"

"So, don't you think Lucky will want the same thing? She's expecting this trip to be like a Daring Do novel!"

I saw the instant it clicked for Dash. "Oh." Her smug smile vanished. "Oh. Right. Lucky gets what she wants."

"And if she wants a heroic swordfight—"

"Yeah, yeah, gotcha. So how… Wait." Dash frowned in concentration for a moment and then smiled again. "I think I can fix it, Twi."

"Really? Now that you've promised her—"

"No, really! I've got it covered, Twi! I know just what to do!"

"What—"

"Trust me, okay?"

Rainbow Dash is very far from stupid, despite what some ponies think. It's just that she gets impatient with all the time it takes to think through a situation when jumping in, hooves first, is most often the best way (for her, at least) to deal with any given situation. But when she bothers to apply a little brain-power, she isn't often wrong.

"I trust you, Dash," I told her.

She hopped onto all four hooves. "Good! You should come watch. This ought to be fun!"

= = =

It was not fun.

It was, in fact, appalling and horrible. But I'm getting ahead of myself.

I stood on the quarterdeck, aft of the speaking tube rack where I could watch without being obvious. An unusual number of crewponies had found maintenance chores to do on deck. Evidently word had gotten around.

"Okay!" said Rainbow Dash, facing an eager Lucky Charm. "It doesn't matter much if you hold the cutlass with your hoof, mouth, or magic, the moves are pretty much the same, but start with your mouth."

Lucky nodded, lifted her cutlass to her mouth, and bit down on the grip.

Dash had her adjust her grip a bit and then moved the blade with a hoof. "There. That's your first guard position. First cut goes like this. Hoof or head or whatever comes up, sword points toward your centerline. Then, you twist and cut downward on the diagonal." She guided Lucky's blade with her hooves through the maneuver.

"Recover here—" Dash moved Lucky's blade to a new position. "—and that's your second guard. Second cut is a mirror of the first. Sword up, point to center, then twist and cut down the opposite way. There! I know you have to twist your head more on this one, but it's easier with hoof or wing."

"Wiff magic?" Lucky asked around the grip of her cutlass.

"Easy-peasy! But it's also, like, really easy to get sloppy or drop your sword, so you've got to start the stronger, not-so-cheaty way! Okay, do those two cuts again. Make a big X." Dash used her own cutlass to correct Lucky's swing. "Again."

"Again."

"Three times, each side."

She did fairly well. "Can I reft for a second?"

"Sure thing. I won't go too hard on you today, but you're gonna be sore in the morning anyway."

Lucky put the sword down and rolled her neck and shoulders. "It feels awkward."

"Yeah, it will for a while."

"When will I learn the fancy stuff? Like what Silver Mask and Tempest were doing?"

Dash laughed. "That? Lucky, that's dueling! I'm teaching you how to fight!"

"Uh… What's the difference, Ms. Rain Storm?"

"Murderous intent, mostly. Duelists are all about flash and leaving your opponent alive so they'll remember that they got their rump kicked by a better pony. Fighters want to kill or cripple their opponents as quick as possible so they don't get killed or crippled themselves."

"Oh." Lucky sounded quite a lot less enthusiastic than she had at the beginning of the lesson.

"Yeah, and that fancy-schmancy dueling stuff is one-on-one. Griffin corsairs—heck, most all the bad guys like to gang up on you. There are a couple dirty tricks I'll show you to help with that sort of thing, but the best move is to bring all of your stabby friends with you to the brawl!" Rainbow turned and gave a big wink to AJ and Pinkie who were loitering at the main fife rail.

Lucky gave her an uneasy little grin.

Next, Dash had her walking across the deck from rail to rail synchronizing her steps to her swings. "Okay, now turn around—no, lead with your sword! That's right, now back over here. Okay, good! Take a break!"

"Whoof! that's harder than it looks!"

"Eh, do it another couple thousand times and you won't even notice it!"

"Couple thousand…?" Lucky chewed her lower lip, doubtfully.

"It's the only way to get good! By the way, congratulations! You just finished the entire Royal Equestrian Navy Cutlass Combat Course!"

"What? You're just kidding… Right, Ms. Storm?"

"Nope! That's it. That's the whole thing! Unless you go for the advanced class for spears or boarding axes. For the swabbies, it's just cut and step and cut and step—repeat until the bad guys are all gone. I mean, there are a few tricks and tips I'll pass along, but yep, that's it! If this was the Aeronautical Service you'd get a certificate or something, but pirates aren't big on paperwork."[5]

[5] Rainbow Dash was not lying to her, not even exaggerating. For aeronauts and naval ponies who spend 99.99% of their time not fighting with a sword, strength and endurance combined with very simple and easy-to-remember techniques were the most likely guarantee of success.

Lucky just stood there, dumbfounded.

"Okay, grab your sword and do another ten crossings of the deck and then you can quit for the day."

I give that mare full credit; she picked up her cutlass and went back to it.

After five crossings, Dash yelled at her, "You're slowing down! Put some umph in those swings!" After one more, Dash grabbed her own sword and met Lucky at the larboard rail. "Okay, I'm gonna put my blade up for a target, right? You're gonna hit it on each swing, and if you don't make it ring like a bell each time, I'm gonna make you do another two crossings, got it?'

"Yesh, Msh. Shtorm," Lucky mumbled around her grip. She straightened up, squared her shoulders, and started another crossing.

Dash nonchalantly slapped each swing of Lucky's cutlass away with her own blade. Half-way across, She turned to look at me and yelled, "What did I tell you, Captain? She's a nat—aaagh!"

An instant's inattention and her blade drifted just far enough out of line to let Lucky's cutlass whip past it and bury the edge deep in Dash's neck above her shoulder. A bright fan of blood spattered onto the deck as Rainbow dropped, hissing with pain, her foreleg clamped over her wound.

"Oh no!" Lucky cried, her sword tumbling from her mouth, "Oh no, oh no, oh no… I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry!"

I teleported in, next to Dash, and pried her hoof away from her neck just enough to confirm my suspicions. "Half Hitch! Get the doctor and get him to my cabin with his kit, now!"

I spared an instant for Lucky. "It wasn't your fault. She'll be fine." Then I teleported Dash and myself to my cabin.[6]

[6] It was the largest interior space aboard that had any pretensions to privacy. It was often used as a meeting place, and sometimes an operating theater. There were both ink and blood stains on my big table.

= = =

"Rainbow Dash, you are a horrible, horrible pony!"

She nodded to me and lifted her big jack[7] of cider in a silent toast, as if I had paid her a generous compliment.

[7] A "jack" in this context is a leather mug lined with brewer's pitch to make it waterproof. They are light and have the advantage of not being as breakable as ceramic or glass, and so are most commonly found aboard ships or in the rougher sort of taverns.

"You traumatized that poor mare!"

"Yep! That was the plan. You wanted her to not want any swordfights, and—" Dash gave me the toast gesture again, and downed the rest of her cider in one go. "—aaah—mission accomplished!"

"That cut could have killed you if it weren't for—"

"Yeah, yeah, but my little doohickey fixed me right up!" She tapped the back of her head. "Nice to know it works just fine on something besides little scrapes and bruises. I mean, not that I doubted it would. Your magic thingies are really amazing! That raptor set—"

"Don't try to change the subject, Dash! Or flatter me out of being upset with you, for that matter."

She shrugged and put down her jack. "Okay, let's do that logic thing you like so much. I fixed the problem. Flutters is now fixing the new problem caused by how I fixed the old problem. When Lucky's all calmed down and stuff, we'll have a crewpony who doesn't 'rush into danger like it was Free Sample Day at the Canterlot Mint.' Yeah, you thought I'd forgotten about that crack, didn't you?" (At least she was smiling when she said it.) "And all I have to do is pretend to have a little boo-boo for a couple of days, and we're golden. So why are you upset?"

I squeezed my eyes shut and took several deep breaths. Without raising my head or opening my eyes, I said, "I'm upset because not everything is about logic, okay? When I saw that sword cut into you, I…"

"Huh? Holy smokes, Twi! Are you crying?"

"No!" I said angrily, wiping at my eyes and turning away from her to look out at the empty sky.

"Twi…" She was at my side, putting a tentative foreleg across my shoulders.

I leaned into her side-hug, but didn't say anything for a while.

"Applejack is gonna rake you over the coals, you know," I said when I had composed myself.

"What? Why?"

"You didn't see her face when Lucky buried the cutlass in your neck, but I did. I had to risk giving the whole thing away by winking at her after I made sure you were okay, or who knows what she might have done. But if you think I'm upset…"

Dash got up, picked up the cider bottle and both her jack and an additional one. "'Scuse me, Captain, but I've got to go apologize to a certain cowpony and—"

I shook my head. "No, you've got to play the invalid, so you'll have to stay in here and endure more of the doctor's eye-rolls when he visits his so-called patient. I'll sling a hammock for you from the overhead, and I'll work in the chartroom. Speaking of which…" I levitated my books and papers and headed for the larboard door.

"But, AJ—"

"I'll send her in, don't worry." I went through the door, but before I closed it, I turned back over my shoulder and added, "And try to keep it fairly quiet, okay? Or at least make your moans sound like painful ones?"

I heard her jack bounce off the door after I'd closed it, and smiled.

= = =

=

Author's Note

Full credit to Cynewulf for the "raccoon in a crawl space" line. One of the most delightful countryisms I've ever heard. :pinkiehappy:

= = =

Incredibly, the extent of cutlass training given to most British sailors during the Age of Sail is pretty much what I have set down above.

From The Boy's Manual Of Seamanship And Gunnery, 1st ed. (1867):[8]

[8] What an age that was! Nowadays, the poor kids only have badly supervised sports to threaten their lives.

Also, this chapter is a good illustration of why you never, ever spar with real weapons, no matter what Hollywood says. Even Rainbow Dash isn't that dumb; she was planning on getting hurt.

Naval training cutlasses (often called "single-sticks"):

= = =

A leather drinking jack:

= = =

14 Flying High

Chapter Fourteen - Flying High

The plan was to sail into Seaward Shoals in the morning, after thoroughly scouting the town and surroundings before dawn.That meant that I would be up very early, so I reluctantly put away my books and research materials just after dinner and took a dose of a mild soporific potion.

I didn't expect to dream because of the potion, but I did, and it turned out to be a very nice dream indeed.

It began in a crumbling ruin, with the dark and weathered statue of an ugly, ancient god muttering to me in low and threatening tones. Then Luna blithely trotted in and turned the whole scene to sand with a wave of a wing.

"None of that!" she said. "There shall be naught but refreshment and a pavillion of pleasures here!"

It seemed that Luna had decided that the waking world was giving me enough cause for worry. She was determined to make sure that the dreamlands were a haven until such time as I had the leisure time for further symbolic introspection.

I awoke utterly refreshed and relaxed, ready to fight hydras with a salad fork. Luna is amazingly good at her job.

= = =

Shrrbrgrth and Khaatarrekket in their natural changeling forms had very good nightsight, and with their shapeshifting ability, were the ideal crew members for a scouting mission.

That didn't stop me from wanting to go with them. I could shapeshift too, or cast illusion, invisibility, or nightsight spells.

Ket smiled as I fussed a bit, double-checking the straps on her bags and the raptor transceiver slung across her chest. She rightfully pointed out that sending the captain out on a scouting mission was complete foolishness.

"If I wasn't a fool," I grumbled, "I'd probably still be back in Canterlot, teaching theoretical thaumaturgy at the university and ignoring my mother's hints about giving her grandfoals."

Ket chuckled. "And be doing so under the Holy Moon of the Eternal Night, no doubt. Perhaps we will drink a toast to appropriate foolishness when Shrrbrgrth and I return?"

I laughed, both because she was completely correct, and because I'd done plenty under the Holy Moon of the Eternal Night in last night's dream.

"I'll have a bottle of the good stuff ready when you get back. Be safe!"

I could have relaxed in my cabin, but for no good reason, I remained on the quarterdeck with the second raptor floating in front of me. Clove Hitch had the watch, but Ao stood beside me, armed and ready in case she was needed. Aside from the occasional scrape of my hooftip rubbing against the deck in a nervous tic, all was quiet.

An hour or so after they departed, there was a burst of static from the raptor, and then the sound of Ket's voice. "Nebula, we have arrived at the town. Over."

"Understood. Anything to report? Over."

"No airships here, and the town is quiet, but there are several damaged buildings on the waterfront and a ship half-submerged at the dock. Something happened here pretty recently. I think we should do a low sweep to see if there are any yeti ground troops nearby. Over."

"Be careful. Your primary goal is to get back safely and have a drink with your captain, understood? Over."

"Understood, Captain. Expect an update in a half hour. Out."

It was a damned long half hour. I caught and stopped myself rubbing my hoof against the deck at least three times.

"Nebula, we are on our way back." The sudden crackle of Ket's voice made me start and then sigh with relief. "No enemy spotted. Details when we arrive. Over."

"Understood. Out."

"Ao, do you think the yeti fleet has bypassed us?. They could be as far north as Somnambula by now!" I gestured with the raptor, which I really ought not to have done. The things were hideously expensive, and one little bump against a railing could have put it out of commission.

"This one cannot be certain, but other possibilities suggest themselves."

We discussed the matter until Ket and Sherbet arrived. Clove Hitch collected the raptors and stowed them away in their padded case as Ao poured out tots of calvados for the quarterdeck crew.

We solemnly toasted each other's continued health and prosperity, because it is "the thing to do,"[1] and then we got down to business.

[1] Aeronautical traditions get started so easily and are defended so tenaciously, that I firmly believe that at some time in the future, aerial warfare will become impossible. Before the combatants can complete the necessary toasts, flag-raisings, declarations, (and probably interpretive dances) prior to engaging the enemy, they all will have died of old age.

"They're miserable," Ket said. "Grieving, I think; it was hard to tell exactly as most of them were asleep, but certainly very sad and unsettled. No hint of anypony down there being happy about their situation."

"Worried too, but not actively afraid," Sherbet put in, and Ket nodded in agreement.

"So the goons are probably long gone. How about the damage to the town?" I asked.

"Seems to be very deliberate and targeted. Warehouses, public buildings, and ships mostly. There's no sign of mass movement on the roads, so it probably was an air raid."

"Makes sense," I said. I ran through the scenarios that Ao and I had discussed and it was the general consensus that we should continue to the town to render whatever aid we could, and get more information.

"Mr. Hawser, crank down the keelmast and fly the big Equestrian flag from it. Let's not panic the townsponies if we can help it."

"Aye-aye, Captain!"

= = =

The good ponies of Seaward Shoals were too exhausted to panic much, it turned out. They needed reassurance as well as help, so I wore my Princess Twilight suit[2] when I met with the mayor and leading ponies of the town.

[2] I know how odd that sounds, but it's a very accurate summation of how I felt about it at that time.

The Stormguard yetis had taken anything of value they could lay their claws on, as well as all the food in town. The ponies had been eating grass and seaweed ever since the raid.

The attack had been sudden and overwhelming. The town guard consisted of five ponies in total, two of which had been killed in a brave but foolish attempt to get a few good kicks in before they went down. The only other serious resistance that had been offered was by one of the town's weather ponies. I was told she had made life miserable for the raiders by pelting them with boathooks, anchors and whatever other improvised weapons she could lay her hooves on. Nopony had seen what had killed her, but there were only a few burnt feathers left of her for the funeral. There were several other injured ponies, but thankfully, their wounds were all survivable.

One good bit of news was that the raid had come from (and returned to) the southeast, suggesting it had been a foraging expedition and that the main fleet was still somewhere in that direction.

I visited the wounded ponies personally, and thanked them for their bravery. I had Dr. Woundwort come along with me to examine their wounds. The town doctors were perfectly competent, but a little extra attention always helps with morale, if nothing else.

We also helped a baker to clean up her shop and donated the ingredients to start baking fresh loaves of bread to be shared out to the townsponies. It wasn't much, but it raised their spirits quite a bit. I had Spike send off a couple of messages. One to Celestia, requesting a shipment of food as well as updating her on the situation and recommending Morning Mist for a posthumous DR.[3] The other message was to Luna—just because.

[3] I doubted a Defender of the Realm medal would be of much comfort to her surviving family, but it came with a pension which might make life a little less difficult for them in the long term.

Then, I called the gang and Nebula's officers together in my cabin for a meeting and a quick working lunch.

"Our number one priority is to locate the fleet."

"And once we find it?" asked Clove Hitch.

"Well, the details depend on the exact circumstances, but if we can find the fleet, I have several options prepared to deal with it."

Clove knew who I really was, but really didn't really understand what that meant. She looked worried and unsure. "We aren't the helpless merchant airship we appear to be, but taking on even one of those battleships would be a terrible risk. Given that the Storm King has been collecting magical weapons, he might—"

"Don't worry, Ms. Clove, I don't intend that Nebula will ever engage any of those ships. She is going to act purely as a base of operations and an observation platform."

Clove Hitch was a clever pony (I would hardly have made her Nebula's Second Officer, otherwise) and she immediately saw where I was heading. "Ah! Then we should order the cold weather gear broken out?"

"Yes, Ms. Clove, we're going up."

= = =

Nebula's ceiling[4]is much higher than any other airship I know of. It's not that the design for such capability is difficult, but it is expensive, unnecessary, and impractical for most situations. The atmosphere is extremely cold and thin at high altitudes and that makes everything (including the crew) work less efficiently. There are layers of air streams up there, high-velocity winds that are rough and unpredictable. The thin air made engines horribly inefficient and the inverse square falloff of a keel spell makes sailing very chancy at best. Most airships settled for a good balance and that meant they used passes to traverse mountain ranges. Nebula could, if necessary, fly over Mt. Everhoof.

[4] In this case, "ceiling" means the highest altitude she can rise to, not the wooden planks over our heads, which on an airship (as I believe I've previously mentioned) is called the "overhead." Though it is rare to encounter it on an airship due to weight considerations, extra, finished planking inside the hull is sometimes referred to as the ceiling.

That didn't mean it was easy, or something to be done casually. Preparations had to be made and crew drilled on the hazards and procedures. It didn't help the crew's peace of mind that I also insisted that Nebula also be rigged for storm and collision conditions.

"What in tarnation are we gonna run into up there?" Applejack asked me as I was stowing away books and papers in my cabin, and locking down boxes and containers of delicate materials. "An' Dash tells me that there ain't no storms that get anywheres near that high, so why all the hubbub?"

"One of my possible scenarios might result in unusual turbulence or sudden pressure waves that could briefly affect Nebula's stability," I said as I wrapped cotton batting around bottles of alchemical reagents and nestled them in my sea chest.

"Are we talkin' a hoofball shoulder-check or a loose pea in a tin can in an avalanche sorta turbulence?"

I paused for a moment to look her in the face. "AJ, I wish I knew for sure, but since I don't, I'm being overly cautious."

AJ stared at me for a moment and then nodded. "All righty then. I reckon I'll go batten down my gear."

We were ready by nightfall, and I didn't see any reason to delay. I arranged for seven of the Nebulas to stay on the rocks with three chests of "delicate instruments" and since I didn't get enough volunteers, I had the crew draw straws. And yes, of course I had set it up that way as a sort of experiment. Lucky wasn't chosen to stay behind, and that was more of a relief than I was willing to admit to myself at the time.

Fluttershy was on the wheel for the ascent, Zepherine and Ket (in the shape of a zebra so fluffy, she was nearly spherical) on the quarterdeck with her. Clove Hitch and Ao were in the cupola, and Ralf was on the main deck wrapped in a thick coat, sitting on his toolbag.

I was on the fo'c'sle deck with my best enchanted spyglass. The chances I would be able to see anything significant before dawn were slim, but it was a good enough post and kept me from driving the crew crazy with unnecessary triple and quadruple checks.

"Static lines clear! Ready lift!" Ket called out. Then, "Lift, ho!" I heard the hiss and splatter of water ballast dropping from the number two and three tanks onto the stone quay below. Then Zeph rang the telegraph for slow ahead, the engines spun up, and we glided over the town. Deck ponies hauled in the ground lines and coiled them carefully as we continued to slowly climb and turn to a southeast course.

As soon as we'd cleared the town, Fluttershy released more ballast, and the deck pressed up under my hooves. The landscape below and ahead was a jumble of dark shapes that my glass resolved into a sparse juniper forest on stoney ground that slowly thinned out to bare sand and rocks in the far distance.

Fluttershy was releasing ballast in carefully calculated amounts while gradually turning up the heaters in the gas cells to improve our lift. Nebula's cells had been triple-reinforced a couple of refits ago and could take an astounding amount of pressure, but they still had limits. As we climbed and the air got colder and colder, I heard the compressor pumps kick in, pulling gas out of the cells and forcing it into the storage tanks. We would probably need to vent gas at some point, but the plan was to waste as little as possible.

My breath steamed out, and condensed into little droplets on the mouths of the brass speaking tubes as I checked in with the crew at their stations.

"I just checked the lift tanks," Halter Hitch reported. "They're pretty hot, but they're almost full now, so we should be okay."

Ao reported that the rising quarter moon was particularly beautiful, and that she felt it would be a fitting subject for a poem, which she would compose at some future time when she wasn't on duty.

The rumble of the compressors cut off, and I strolled aft to the quarterdeck, nodding to Ralf along the way. His head was sunk so far down into the thick wool collar of his jacket, that it was impossible to tell if he nodded in return.

"Cap'n on deck!" Zeph announced as I reached the top of the ladder. Formalities; there's no avoiding them. At least she used an appropriately quiet voice.

"How does she go, Ms. Fluttershy?"

"Nicely, Captain. Very nicely. There's not much left to do but vent a bit as we rise. Nebula should find an altitude she likes in an hour or so."

"How much higher can she go if we use the engines for lift?"

Fluttershy frowned. "I wouldn't recommend it. The air's going to be a lot thinner up there. The best way to get higher would be to angle the steering fins and use Nebby's envelope for an additional lift surface. But that would mean running as fast as possible. It would be better to jettison whatever cargo we could spare."

I nodded. "I don't think it will be necessary, but could you give me a guess at how much extra altitude we could get with just the engines canted up?"

Fluttershy thought for a while. "Nebula's different than she was back in Marezambique,[5] Stronger, but heavier, too. Maybe another few furlongs, but not much more than that. Umm—that's just a guess."

[5] The last place we'd tried to rake the moon with our topmast. See, The Twilight Enigma.

In my mind, Fluttershy's guesses about Nebula's capabilities far outweighed the expert opinions of any other dozen aeronauts. "That's good to know. Let's hope we don't have any reason to find out for sure."

We achieved neutral buoyancy a little after midnight. It was too dark to see much on the ground, and we were well above the range Nebula's altimeter was calibrated for, so high that some of the crew were showing signs of altitude sickness.

I assigned Zepherine and Hawser to make continuous rounds, checking on each of the crew members in turn. The doctor and I heated water bottles, sand bags, and anything else that might store a good bit of heat and distributed them along with extra blankets as needed.

When we rang back the engines to dead slow ahead, Ralf roused himself and went out to each engine pod to peer through the inspection hatches and fiddle around a bit. He asked if we could shut down number two for about an hour, and I gave the order to stop both numbers one and two in order to keep our thrust balanced. Despite the blazing stars above us, it was too dark to see any ground features, and there wasn't any point in rushing onward. We only needed a little headway to keep the steering surfaces working.

About a half hour later Ralf asked me to spin up number two again and then sat next to it for several minutes, his head cocked and his ears swiveled, listening intently. "Yah, he's good now," he told me. "Was a little rattle in the feathering rod. Ralf replaced it." He held up a steel rod with a hole in each end and then brought it down sharply against a wrench he was holding in his other paw. The rod snapped cleanly in half. "Bad temper on this one! Most times okay, but in this cold, not so good."

"Well spotted, Mr. Ralf!"

He grinned and tucked his ears back under his collar. He wanted to stay on deck, so I got him a thick blanket and heated up a couple of dropstones[6] for him to curl up around.

[6] Large stones with holes drilled through them so that a line can be tied to them. Useful for a lot of things.

I ordered an early crew change. I wanted the same ponies on duty at dawn, and that meant giving them a few hours of sleep at least.

I went down to my cabin, being as quiet as possible so that I wouldn't wake Dash and AJ, and found a couple of scrolls on the big table that Spike had belched up during our ascent. One was from Luna; I immediately recognized her lovely calligraphy.

Dearest Twilight,

I am going to accompany the aid flight from Applewood to Seaward Shoals, and am looking forward to seeing you in a more corporeal way again. I am fully confident that you will have trodden that loathsome creature underhoof by the time I arrive, and we shall celebrate in grand style! (The relief supplies include several bottles of Buzzy's Metheglin.)

A train with more supplies will follow shortly, when we have determined the specific needs of the ponies of Seaward Shoals.

I am attaching the star charts you requested and have indicated a few bodies that might serve your purpose. I believe that one of the chondrites would be most suitable for the task.

All My Love,

Luna

I also recognised the quillwork on the second scroll. It was from Cadance.

Dear Twilight,

I hate to be a bother now when it seems you are closing in on our enemy, but I have had another prophetic dream.

I can just see you rolling your eyes, so I will make this brief.

You will soon have a very important choice to make. Please, for the sake of Equestria and all of your loved ones, do not make it a rash one! I wish I could be more specific, but the dream was not. All I can say is that it was horrible beyond belief.

I trust in your judgment when you are given time to consider matters, and refuse to let yourself be carried away by emotion or panic. Just be careful and deliberate, and I'm sure everything will be alright.

Shining and Flurry send their love.

Love,

Cadance

The only reason I didn't scream in frustration was that I didn't want to wake Applejack and Rainbow Dash.

= = =

=

Author's Note

15 Fiasco Fallout

Chapter Fifteen - Fiasco Fallout

Dawn brought a welcome sight. About seven leagues south of us, anchored above the rough desert terrain, was the Western Fleet of the Storm King's armada. Two battleships circled the anchored fleet about three furlongs out, but even though they were acting as flying guard towers, they were still far below us.

The ships were closely grouped and in the middle of uninhabited wasteland, so Plan A would be perfect.

We would be hard, but not impossible to spot, and since I had no idea what sort of magical weapons the fleet might have at its disposal, I worked as quickly as possible. "Tempest, can you point out the flagship?"

"It will be one of the circling ones," she said. "The king doesn't like to get his paws dirty, but which one…" She peered through my spyglass again. "Sorry. I can't say for sure."

"No problem. I plan on destroying them all, so it doesn't matter that much."

She gave me a doubtful side-eye. "Friendship magnetism?"

"Nope!" I said, grinning. "I'm going to throw a rock at them."

She scowled at me. Well, her expression didn't really change all that much, but I could tell she thought I was kidding her. "A rock?"

"A really big, really fast rock. Give me a minute." I sat down, took a few deep breaths, and then opened my magesight to the heavens. The beautiful interwoven spheres, cycles, wheels and epicycles of the celestial mechanism appeared above me. I just sat there for a few seconds, drinking in the magnificence of it all. Then I sought out one relatively tiny filament that Luna had marked on the chart. The little type-C asteroid had a nice close orbit that would only take a little nudging to shift into a collision course.

I nudged. I observed it for a second and then gave it a little correction. There! Right on target. "Ms. Summer Breeze—" I called up to Fluttershy, "—bring us about and make all good speed away from the target." The engines spun up to full ahead, and when Ralf signaled from the main deck that they were all running well, Fluttershy rang them for Emergency Ahead. The props shrieked in the thin air and we began to pick up speed.

"Attention all crew!" I used the Royal Voice to make sure that everycreature heard me clearly. "Prepare yourselves for a collision. Tie yourselves into your hammocks or use a safety line if you are on deck. You have—" I glanced back at the sky. "—two minutes to prepare."

"What's gonna happen,Twi?" AJ called up from the main deck where she was busily lashing herself to the mainmast.

"Big explosion, and I mean really big. I'll shield us from any physical debris that gets flung this high, but there will be a shockwave and it could be rough."

Ralf had tied himself to the pin rail near the number one engine pedestal. He looked like he was about to panic. "What will happen down there?"

"Everything within ten furlongs of the impact will be destroyed. That means the fleet and a good deal of the desert around it. Nice of them to moor themselves far away from anything important."

"H-how…?" Tempest was staring at me, her mouth open, with an expression on her face that I had never seen there before: fear. Grubber was frantically lashing himself to the binnacle.

I glanced upward again. "No time to explain now. I'd advise not looking at the target area until after the impact. The flash can—"

There came a canine howl of rage from below us "NO! No, you can not do this!"

All of the quarterdeck crew turned to stare at Ralf in surprise. He was untethered, out on the number one engine strut with the cowling of the engine torn off. He held a large hammer above the energy crystal, threatening to smash it.

"Ralf, no!" shouted Fluttershy. It was an actual shout, probably the loudest I'd ever heard from her. "Bad dog! You put that hammer down!"

The big crystal was nearly fully charged. If Ralf smashed it, the energy release would take out the engine and a good chunk of Nebula's hull. It would also, of course, kill him instantly.

There was no time for debate. I grabbed Ralf and hauled him away from the engine, pulling the hammer out of his paw and floating him up to the quarter deck. "Ms. Zepherine, tie him to the rail. Tightly. I will deal with him afterwards."

Zeph bent to her task and Ralf moaned, "No! Please! All those dogs! Thousands! Puppies!"

I spun on him. "What? Ralf, what are you talking about?"

He was openly weeping by then. "The Caves of Conundrum! The High Song, beneath the fleet! Ten thousand dogs or more in those caverns!"

There was dead silence for a second.

"Oh, frass," Ket hissed.

I whipped my head up searching for the chondrite. It was close. Too close. I couldn't deflect it in time. Even so, I shoved it with all of my might, but knew that the impact, even several leagues off target, would shake the ground like a massive earthquake. I drew as much power as possible from the storage gems hidden in my greatcoat and did the first thing that came to mind. I poured pure energy into the rock as heat and rotation. It went soft and the spin flattened it out just before it hit the atmosphere.

The sky went searing white. We could feel the heat of it like a second sun.

"Fluttershy, turn us toward the blast!"

Nebula spun as fast as an airship her size could, which wasn't what anypony would call nimble, but it was enough. Before the shockwave hit us we were lined up head-on and braced as well as possible.

Ralf howled.

"Ralf, it was an airburst, not a ground strike. It shouldn't be—"

I wasn't getting through to him, so it was just as well that the shockwave arrived and saved me from any more futile attempts at reassurance.

It was bad.

Moreso because I had been distracted and only put up the shield after the first wave had hit us. Thankfully, there was no flying debris, as there might have been if millions of tons of sandstone were flung into the sky as I had initially planned..

Nebula violently pitched and yawed as Fluttershy struggled to steady her. Unwelcome noises of ripping fabric and cracking wood came from all around us. Everyone on deck hung on for their lives and stared at the huge ball of flame ahead of us as it darkened and rose up through the stratosphere.

The inrush of air toward the explosion wasn't nearly as bad as I'd feared, and the second pressure wave was relatively mild. I scanned the deck, looking for anyone who had been hurt, but it seemed like we had come through relatively unscathed.

I turned to Fluttershy. "How's Nebula?"

She didn't reply immediately, but rang the engines down to slow ahead and checked the instruments in the binacle before she stroked a hoof over the wheel housing. "I think she's okay. Just scrapes and bruises, but I want to get the feel of her again before we push her."

I knew what she meant. "I will send inspection teams around to check on everything, while you maneuver her."

"Can we descend a bit?"

I leaned over the larboard rail and looked forward. The desert ahead was completely obscured by a huge cloud of dust that was rapidly spreading. "Go ahead, but stay above the dust cloud."

Everyone was untying themselves and Zepherine asked me if she should release Mr. Ralf.

I hesitated, then knelt down on the deck beside the little dog. "Mr. Ralf, look at me."

He raised his tear-stained face to mine.

"I didn't know. I thought it was empty desert. I did everything I could to soften the impact, and we will go there as soon as we can to help any…" I had been going to say "survivors" and thought better of it. "We will give help to any dogs that need it."

"They… They aren't dead?"

"I think there's a good chance that most of them will be okay. If they were underground when the meteorite exploded they would have had some protection."

He stared at me for a long moment and then lowered his head to the deck, without replying.

I called up a spell and put him into a deep sleep. "Untie him Ms. Zepherine, and take him down to his bunk."

She did so, levitating him along in her wake.

There were no major injuries to any of the crew or severe damage to Nebula, but there was enough to keep the crew busy. Clove Hitch had two crewponies out on the number one engine pod, fothering[1] the hole in the cowling. Ralf, in his panic, had torn the hatch clear off its hinges and dropped it overboard. We could eventually replace it, but in the meantime I wanted to keep any sand or other junk out of the engine's workings.

[1] "Fothering" is an emergency procedure, stretching canvas (sometimes a spare sail) across an opening that ought not to be there. Incredibly, it is very effective for ocean-going ships that have damaged their hulls. The canvas still passes some water, but far more slowly than a gaping hole, and the technique had sometimes made the difference between limping into harbor, and sinking like a stone.

All of Nebula's gas cells seemed to be in good shape. I heard the hiss of the storage tanks releasing more gas into them to equalize pressure as we descended. There were several tears in her envelope forward of her beam, where the force of the shockwave had ripped the canvas where it pressed against the supporting ribs. Half Hitch was making a list of all the tears and their locations. The little ones could wait to be repaired, but there was one big rip right at Nebula's nose below the mooring sprit hatch that would have to be done as soon as possible. It not only disrupted the smooth airflow over the whole envelope, but the turbulence it caused was making the rip grow larger.

"I've stitched up the aft end of the tear, Captain," Half told me, pointing to the makeshift repair he'd made. "But if we run at anything over half speed or hit bad air, it won't hold."

"Good work, Half Hitch. We will get that seen to as soon as we know we're out of danger."

The dust was settling and dispersing off to the east, but we still couldn't see the ground or any sign of the enemy fleet. About half an hour after the blast, Tempest pointed at a darker patch in the cloud and said, "That's smoke, not dust. Burning engine oil, I think."

Grubber was wrapped tightly around one of her forelegs, uncharacteristically silent.

I nodded. "Good. Looks like the wind down there is picking up. We should be able to see more soon."

I thought I heard Grubber whisper, "I don't wanna see it," but I wasn't sure, and chose to ignore it. I was depressed enough as it was.

Dr. Woundwort reported on the state of the crew, and I was glad to hear that some bruises, minor cuts, and splinters were the worst that anyone had suffered.

I sent Ao, Shrrbrgrth, and Rainbow Dash (with a fake bandage around her neck) out to scout ahead. Ao took the raptor and Dash and the ensign both got a set of signal flares. Yes, I gave Rainbow Dash a set of pyrotechnic rockets, because, at that point, why not?

Fluttershy shut down two engines and rang down the other two to dead slow to give the repair crew on the nose of the envelope an easier time of it while they made their repairs. We were low enough by then that the air was still cool, but bearable without heavy clothing.

I gave Fluttershy a questioning look. She gave me a little smile. "She's a tough old mare, Captain. Once that big rip is patched over, she'll be as fit as anything flying. We will need to take on ballast, though."

I gave a toss of my head toward the ground below us. "Sand will do in place of water, won't it?"

Fluttershy nodded. "We've done it before, but it isn't ideal. It's heavy enough, but doesn't drain as fast, or as completely." She looked over at me and grinned again. "And a pony can't drink it if the water kegs run dry."

I hadn't been aboard Nebula at the time she was alluding to because I had made some extremely bad decisions back then as well.[2] "You all had a pretty rough time of it back then," I said. I didn't apologize for the hundredth time, but I did inwardly cringe a bit.

[2] See The Twilight Enigma.

She shrugged. "Doing the right thing isn't always easy or safe. It all worked out okay—eventually."

"I wonder how this fiasco is going to work out." It was only after Flutters gave me a concerned look that I realized I had muttered that out loud. Damn Cadance and her vague prophecies! Rash choices? I had carefully considered several ways to destroy the Stormguard fleet, and picked the one that had seemed to fit the situation perfectly. The only decision I had made in haste was to change my plan when I had learned of the caves full of innocents below it. I couldn't possibly regret that choice.

The dust slowly cleared, and about noon we could make out the shapes of a few wrecked battleships, one still burning. There were bits of debris and wreckage scattered widely around them, but not enough to indicate major damage to another ship.

"That's three out of seven," Ket said. "Not bad for missing the target by three or four leagues, but we don't want to get jumped by the survivors."

There was no place for the other battleships to hide except for the distant dust cloud near the horizon, but I ordered the arms locker opened and all hooves to their stations in an overabundance of caution.

Shortly thereafter the speaking tube from the cupola whistled. I pulled its plug and spoke into it. "This is the captain."

"Rocket sighted on the larboard bow, at about eight or nine leagues," Spike replied. "White burning to red."

I didn't need to check the code sheet I'd made up for the mission; that color combination meant "enemy sighted." The direction meant that it was Sherbet who had fired the rocket. Ao had gone due south and Dash southwest.

"Should I reply?"

"Wait a minute, Spike, she may—"

"Another rocket! Green… Just green."

That was good. Green meant "retreating."

"Thank you, Spike. Fire a blue rocket, and then a red and gold one."

"Understood, Twi! Blue, message received, and then red burning to gold, all return."

I put the plug back in the tube, and turned to Ket.

"Hold station here," I said to her. "I need to attend to something in my cabin. Ms. Calvados?"

"Yeah, Twi?" Applejack looked up from where she was checking lines on the fife rail and recoiling the ones that didn't meet her approval.

"Will you stand guard outside my cabin? I need to concentrate, and I don't want to be interrupted."

"Sure thing!" She followed me down the ladder into the chart room and did an about-face outside the Great Cabin door while I closed it behind me.

I unpacked my carefully padded scrying dish and put it on the table. I set out the tuned crystals around it and poured the enchanted ink into the dish. The bowl wasn't terribly reliable, but any crystals big enough to power a death ray would be a fairly easy target.

Yes, it seemed obvious that if the dogs below us possessed such a weapon, they would have used it on the Storm King's fleet, and the fact that Lucky was aboard was an apparent indicator of our safety, but the extra reassurance was something I wanted just then.

The scrying spell didn't reveal any large thaumic power source, but it did sparkle with thousands of little crystal indicators. It confirmed that Ralf had been speaking the truth. To my unutterable relief, the pattern that was revealed made it feel like I was starting at a fluorescent ant farm. Movement meant life.

I had nearly murdered an entire city full of innocent, intelligent beings.

I drained the bowl and cleaned it, then packed away the whole set. It took me a while, because I had to keep wiping the tears out of my eyes and pausing to let a fit of the shakes pass.

I couldn't go on deck like that. I started for the chart room a couple of times and at the thought of facing my friends, a moan of despair tried to climb up my throat and force itself out through my clenched teeth.

"You're Blackmane," I told myself. "You have a ruthless reputation for a good reason. It's war. It's—" I went on like that for a while. I don't know if lying to myself worked or if it was just the slow steady taking of breath to mutter those lies that calmed me down, but eventually I felt I was in control of myself, and left the cabin.

I thanked AJ for standing guard, and went on deck.

"Alright, Ms. Summer Breeze, take us in over their anchorage, but keep at least a furlong off from the wrecks, upwind if you please."

"Aye, aye, captain."

We crept up on the wrecks, carefully scanning the surrounding sky and desert. I had a big flag flown from the keelmast again, but this time it was pure white; a signal of peace and parley. We didn't see anything but wreckage. I couldn't be absolutely sure, but it looked like the blast had caused the ships to rip out their mooring cables, and most of the damage to two of the wrecks had occurred when they had collided with each other. The third had burst open from the inside, and was still exuding an oily green smoke. Something in there had obviously reacted poorly to the impact of the shockwave.

The desert itself looked… Well, it looked picturesque with all the canyons, mesas, and sandstone spires stretching out toward the southern horizon, but it still looked empty, despite the activity I had detected with my scrying bowl. If we were going to contact the dogs of Conundrum, we would need Ralf to guide us to an entrance, since it seemed he had some knowledge of the place.

I looked around for an unoccupied crewpony to send to wake him, and saw Lucky Charm standing at the starboard rail, with a cutlass on a baldric slung over her shoulders. So much for Dash's assurances.

Speaking of Dash, she chose that moment to swoop in over the foc'sle deck, calling out, "Saw the recall. What's the sitch', skipper?"

Lucky didn't seem to notice Dash's arrival. Her eyes remained locked on the wreckage below.

"Sherbet spotted them. They're running."

Dash grinned. "Can you blame them? We gonna chase them down?"

"Maybe."

"Aww c'mon, Twi!"

"We have some other business to take care of first, and then we need to make plans." Before Dash could roll her eyes or object, I pointed at Lucky. "By the way…"

"Huh? Oh. Oh, horsefeathers!"

Lucky chose that moment to look up and spotted us. A brilliant smile lit up her face. "Ms. Rain Storm! I'm so glad to see you're feeling better! Does it still hurt much?"

"Uh… No, no, it's cool. I mean it's, like, much better!"

"Great! I just knew I couldn't really hurt a friend."

Dash gave her a sickly grin. "Right, right. Looked worse than it was. I mean, it was, like—"

"Ms. Storm," I interrupted, "You should go below for a rest. You aren't fully recovered yet."

"I'm not? Oh, right! Yeah… I'm kinda pooped. A nap sounds like an awesome idea." She saluted Lucky and said, "See, ya," to me and then rushed belowdecks.

Ms. Sherbet arrived next, and gave me the details of her scouting trip. The four remaining battleships were on a heading that would eventually take them to Klugetown if they didn't change course. Sherbet estimated they were making about three quarters ahead, based on Nebula's capabilities. As far as she could tell, they had all sustained some damage, and one was belching out considerably more smoke than the others.

Ao was last. Her innate flight magic worked very well, particularly for endurance flying, but it wasn't exactly speedy.

"Did you reach the impact area?" I asked her, when she had landed and solemnly saluted me.

"Indeed, Captain. This one was able to examine the area quite thoroughly. There was, as you rightly predicted, no crater. The ground there is irregular, and the only evidence of destruction was several new landslides on the shoulders of mesas and the walls of canyons, and the charred remains of scrub brush. Loose soil and sand had spread out from the area in a roughly circular pattern."

"No evidence of—of anycreature in the area?"

Ao shook her head. "None living or dead that this one could see, Captain."

Well, that was a relief. "Good work, Ao. Now, I've got another, less pleasant job for you."

She smiled at me. "All tasks in your service are pleasing to me—" She glanced around and seeing that there was nopony in easy ear shot, continued in a lowered voice, "—Majesty."

I didn't believe it for a second. She had been there at the highly irregular founding of Twilight Town, and after all we had been through together, we were friends and comrades-in-arms, no matter how much she played it up as Dark Queen and Loyal Subject. She just knew it bugged me, that's all. The amused ripple of her barbels[3] gave her away.

[3] Barbels are the long, whiskery tendrils that sprout from either side of an Eastern kirin's muzzle, and not weights for exercising with. Those are barbells with two Ls.

"I need you to keep an eye on the wreckage while I contact the Diamond Dogs. If you spot any survivors in need of aid, take a shore party and give what help you can, but be careful and don't get ambushed."

She frowned. "This one would prefer to be by your side, Majesty. You may need protection if the dogs resent—"

"I will be fine. If there's any sign of trouble, I'll teleport back here."

"It will be as you wish, Majesty, but will you take a raptor, at least? It may prove useful." Her barbels stiffened into tight curves. I have never pointed out to her that they often act as emotional windsocks, because someday I might need to play poker with her, and she has a razor-sharp mind. I would need all the advantages I could get if I wanted to avoid losing my kingdom to her.

"That's a good idea. You'll keep the other?"

She gave me a tight nod.

"Good. Now you'll have to excuse me, I'm going to the dogs."

= = =

=

Author's Note

"Uninhabited" Wasteland

16 Dinner in Dogtown

Chapter Sixteen - Dinner in Dogtown

Nebula carries two smaller craft that can come in useful for transporting crew, passengers, or cargo when moving the entire ship is unfeasible or undesirable. They are hulls suspended from their own gasbags. The captain's gig can carry four ponies, and the cutter twelve.

I had the gig brought up from the cargo hold and swung out over the starboard rail on davits.[1]Hawser unpacked her gasbag, attached its netting, and hooked it up to a cylinder full of lift gas. While the balloon inflated, I had Ralf brought up onto the quarterdeck.

[1] Small demountable, L-shaped cranes.

He was still a bit groggy from the sleep spell, and it took a moment for him to grasp what I was telling him.

"You will go down to Conundrum alone?"

"No, Mr. Ralf. You will come with me, Mr. Half Hitch, and Ensign Shrrbrgrth."

He frowned. "The ensign? But… Dogs may not like… Hn…"

"I think I know what the problem is Mr. Ralf, but Sherbet will be going as a dog, too. Just to avoid any cultural friction."

He blinked at me, frowning. "Captain, you still call Ralf 'Mr.' But Ralf threatened the ship."

"And you still call me 'Captain,' Mr. Ralf. I am happy with that situation, unless you intend to resign?"

He just stared at me, mouth gaping.

"Mr. Ralf, you didn't just save that city, you saved me." He cocked his head in puzzlement, obviously not understanding, so I went on. "The point is that if anyone here requires forgiveness, it's not you. I am apologizing to you, and asking you to stay on as Nebula's engineering officer. "

Ralf looked around at the ponies on the quarter deck, as if seeking explanation or a second opinion.

"Please say yes, Ralf," Fluttershy said. "Good engineers are very hard to find."

Ralf started to say something, swallowed, and then just nodded his head.

"Good!" I gave him a pat on the back. "Looks like Bookmark's[2] gasbag is full. Let's get aboard and you can point out the best place for us to land. I want to be diplomatic about this, so let's not drop down right on the doorstep."

[2] Yes, even small craft have names, and yes, I was the pony who named her.

Sherbet transformed into a very nondescript diamond dog, bigger and much less cute than Ralf, and we all got aboard. Bookmark had little crystal powered fins that served for both propulsion and steering, and several sand bags for ballast. It was a simple setup, but more than enough for our needs. She could have gotten us nearly to Somnambula before the charge in her crystals was exhausted.

"Best place to land is in that side canyon," Ralf said, pointing as we sank toward the ground. "Wide, sandy bottom near the turn."

"That's a bad place to get caught if they're hostile, Captain," Sherbet pointed out.

"Obvious to anyone," Ralf said. "Bad creatures don't put tails into jaws full of sharp teeth. Good creatures trust."

"Descend and head for that bend Ensign… Can we call you 'Spot' for the duration?"

Shrrbrgrth wagged her tail. "It's not my first dog show, Captain. Spot will do just fine."

Ralf gave her one curious glance and then went back to guiding us to our landing place. In less than five minutes, we settled onto soft sand between the towering sandstone walls of the canyon. I had spotted nothing suspicious on the way down, but if there weren't openings where the dogs could look down on us, I would have been completely surprised.

Half Hitch and the Nebula Formerly Known as Sherbet jumped over the gunnels, and quickly and efficiently staked Bookmark to the ground.

"What now Mr. Ralf?"

He pointed up the canyon. "They come from there. We wait here."

It didn't take long. Within a minute, a pack of a dozen very large, very well-armed dogs loped around the bend and formed up in a line facing us. Ralf signaled to us to wait. A moment later, the line then parted in the middle and revealed another figure who strode briskly forward.

I had a hard time remaining calm and silent. I had seen figures very like the newcomer painted on the ruined walls of ancient temples in Anubia; not a dog at all, but a breed of jackal that the world at large thought was extinct. It would have been obvious that he was high-ranking, even if he hadn't been positively dripping with gold jewelry. Tall, lean, and jet black, with ears like spearheads and a tail like a whip, he carried himself with utmost confidence.

He regarded us silently for a moment and then spoke directly to me. Even flanked by two diamond dogs, I was obviously the leader of my group.

"Captain Blackmane, presumably? To what do we owe the pleasure of your presence?"

He knew who I was. I tried not to let my surprise and dismay show. "You have the advantage of me, sir. Or should I say, sidi?"

That shook him—which I oughtn't to have taken pleasure in, but did. A shock for a shock, and all. "Ah… Wepaten is a mere seti,[3] not so high as the Lord."

[3] Commander. Fairly equivalent to my brother's rank before he bagged himself a prophecy-spouting princess.

"It is a pleasure to meet you, Wepaten Seti. This is my engineer Ralf, my ensign Spot, and crewpony Half Hitch."

Commander Wepaten nodded in turn to each of the Nebulas as I introduced them.

"Forgive us for not inviting you in immediately, but as your reputation precedes you, we must be so indelicate as to ask your intentions."

Well, I said to myself, here goes nothing. "The fleet that was here this morning? Their king ordered an attack on some friends of mine a little while ago. We have come to make sure that will never happen again. We weren't able to destroy them all because they were too near to your city, but we hit them hard enough to sink a few of their airships and drive the rest off. We have come down here to apologize for any inconvenience, and to make sure we haven't caused any harm to your people. Oh, and we also have some trade goods aboard. Might as well make a bit of profit off of this trip."

Wepaten stood, bemused for a long moment, and then waved a negligent paw at the line of bruisers behind him. They shouldered their spears, turned about-face and marched back up the canyon. "The Ornithians told stories about you that had been told to them by other—unallied aeronautical adventurers,[4] and we assumed they were, like most sailor's stories, much exaggerated. It seems we were mistaken."

[4] Pirates. He meant pirates.

"Oh, wildly exaggerated, I'm sure." I casually waved away the notion, while making a mental note to discover just who the "Ornithians" were. "But please tell me that your people are all right? Employing such a force as we did is imprecise at best, and I would hate to think I had harmed any innocents here."

He nodded slowly. "Some minor inconveniences,[5] but well worth the price to see the mighty Storm King run off with his tail between his legs, we promise you."

[5] I later learned that he was understating the damage I had done to the caverns, and to this day I don't know if any citizens of the High Song were harmed because of my actions. It still bothers me whenever I think about it.

"That is a great relief to me, Seti," I replied.

He nodded in acknowledgement, but said nothing for a long while, his eyes flicking to each of my crew members in turn. I had to consciously keep from fidgeting.

Finally, he grimaced a bit, as if tasting something sour and then asked, "May Wepaten speak to your underlings, Captain? There is no offense meant."

I hadn't expected that, and I didn't know what he might say, but the diplomatic response was clear. "Of course, Seti."

He gave a disdainful glance at "Spot" and turned to Ralf. "You serve this pony, bessan.[6]Why?"

[6] No clue. My reading had given me a small glimpse of their culture and some common words (only a few centuries out of date), but the word sounded like an accusation.

When Ralf responded, he spoke in a language I did not understand. The only words I could make out were Wepaten's name, title, and "Captain Blackmane."

Wepaten let Ralf speak for a minute or so and then held up a casually imperious paw to silence him. The commander turned back to me. "Captain, Wepaten invites you to enter the imperial reception hall, where you will be served refreshments and be allowed to rest until the wishes of Atenar Sidi are made known. Wepaten guarantees your safety and—"

My raptor set gave out three rapid bursts of static. Ao had something urgent to communicate.

"Pardon me for my rudeness Wepaten Seti, but I must attend to something." I floated the raptor out of my coat pocket, and pushed the transmit button. "Go ahead. Over."

Ao's voice crackled out of the speaker. "Captain, many dogs have emerged from a tunnel near the wrecks and are advancing on them. They are armored and bear weapons. More emerge from the tunnel as this one speaks. Orders? Over."

Wepaten was watching me keenly, alternating his gaze between my face and my raptor set. Before I replied to Ao, I asked him, "Will your troops need any assistance?"

"The King and his Stormguard caused much trouble to our empire even before they besieged us. Be so kind as to allow the dogs their own revenge."

Well, that sounded unpleasant, but I was in no position to object, even if I had been in the mood to interfere with a sovereign state on behalf of forces that had recently sacked an Equestrian town.

I raised the raptor again. "Take no action unless it is to defend Nebula. Observe only. We have been invited into the city and will contact you again when possible. Over."

"Understood. Out."

Wepaten watched me carefully stow the set back in my pocket. "An ingenious device," he said in an offhoof, disinterested tone.

"Useful," I agreed, just as casually.

After a mercifully short moment of awkwardness, he made a sweeping gesture and led us up the canyon for about a quarter-furlong to a large stone door that was practically invisible from more than a few steps away.

He gave a sign to some unseen watchers, and the heavy doors swung inward.

I had been in a diamond dog warren a few years back, and I suppose I had been expecting something similar to the same crudely fashioned burrows, even though I knew these dogs were more sophisticated than their distant cousins. Indeed, the tunnel immediately beyond the doors was bare and utilitarian except for a band of painted decoration along each wall near the arched ceiling, but when we reached the second set of doors at the tunnel's end and they opened…

Neither Ralf nor Spot gasped, but Half Hitch and I certainly did.

The large, high-ceilinged space that opened up before us was lit by hundreds of glowing gems in beautiful lanterns that hung from golden chains. The walls themselves were decoratively carved in intricate geometric patterns and painted in bright colors. There were fine carpets, cushions, and low tables scattered here and there on the floor. In the distance were another set of doors guarded by dogs in bejeweled parade armor, carrying beautiful, but very practical-looking halberds.

Wepaten guided us to a table that held a large crystal ewer full of water with matching goblets and several serving dishes loaded with little snacks. "Please be at ease. Wepaten will return shortly." He backed away a few paces and then went to the door at the rear of the chamber. His stride was smooth and fluid, unlike the lumbering gait of most diamond dogs of my experience—but not dissimilar to Ralf's, I realized.

I thought about that as I poured myself a goblet of water and examined the snacks. Half the selection contained meat of various sorts, but there were also little puffed pastries, both sweet and savory, and I contented myself with a few of those. A brief scan reassured me that the food and drink contained nothing out of the ordinary, and the rest of the crew began helping themselves.

Ralf immediately went for a plate of tiny hemispheres that seemed to be a mix of meat, ground nuts, and herbs topped with cheese. He popped two into his mouth and chewed, his eyes half-closing in delight. His tail rapidly thwapped against the cushion he was sitting on.

"Been a while, Mr. Ralf?" I asked.

He nodded and reached for more, and then hesitated, slowly turning his head to look curiously at me.

"I've eaten in palaces and fine restaurants all around the world, and my favorite food is still spaghetti the way my mother used to make it. Comfort food, you know?"

He nodded and gave me the ghost of a smile. I smiled back and made a mental note to get to know my engineer better—much better, when I had the time.

While sampling a little twist of pastry laced with a dab of soft cheese, I surreptitiously clicked the transmit button on my raptor once, which was the check-in signal. It didn't mean I wanted to speak with her, but it would prompt Ao to click back, so that I would know she was still capable of contact and listening.

My set remained silent.

That didn't necessarily mean there was anything wrong back on Nebula. The most likely reason was that the raptor signals couldn't penetrate the mass of sandstone surrounding us. It was a problem I had anticipated, but I wasn't glad to have it confirmed.

Our little party was on its own, which didn't bother me much at all. I had come prepared for nearly anything. I was more worried about Nebula and the crew still aboard. Not much more worried, you understand—Ao was incredibly capable and had far less restraint than I in doing whatever was necessary to keep the ship safe, but I was still not one hundred percent at ease about the situation.

A short while later, Wepaten returned, accompanied by two female jackal attendants, just as richly dressed as he and carrying staffs crowned with fans of feathers. They both had physiques similar to Wepaten, but were a light gray color, and their fur gleamed as if oiled.

"Honored Captain," he said, giving me a slight bow. "My sidi invites you to dine and converse with him. Your officers will be welcome to attend upon you, of course."

Even there, in a cavern below the Great Southern Desert nearly a thousand leagues from Canterlot Castle, the courtier-speak was completely understandable. My friends could come to dinner, but they were not to speak unless spoken to. I hated that sort of inequity,[7] but as a guest I had to play along.

[7] Which is probably why I am not in the general good graces of the Equestrian nobility. I never made much of a secret of my egalitarian tendencies, and they see that as a threat to their unearned power and position—one of the few things they’re right about. Fortunately for them, I am willing to play a multi-generational long-game of reform, as long as I don't get myself killed in the meantime.

We were led through beautiful, sumptuously carved and decorated hallways and corridors. Many were widened by lower arcaded lanes at either side, some of which were obviously designed to be used as market spaces. I noticed several places where decorative bits had fallen off the walls and wondered if they were the result of my bombardment or simply normal age and wear. There was no rubble left on the floor that I could see.

We were preceded by Wepaten and the fan-carrying pair, and followed by the decorative (but no doubt highly effective) guards. We passed many other dogs going about their business, some of whom were dressed nearly as richly as our guides. They watched us go by, mostly quietly and subtly, except for the pups who openly stared.

There were charged crystals nearly everywhere, most being used for lighting, but many were carried by individuals, which explained the moving sparks I had seen in my scrying dish. I was unable to guess how they kept so many magical crystals charged, but assumed that a question in that direction would not be welcomed, so I kept my curiosity to myself.

Finally, we came to a large double gateway, guarded by several dogs in golden armor. The doors were plated with gold and studded with gems, and the surrounding stone was carved with bas-relief scenes of jackals and dogs engaged in various activities, all in an elegantly stylized manner, all painted in startlingly bright colors. Equine or canine, I knew a palace gate when I saw one.

There was a lot of ceremony involved in passing through the gate. Wepaten used the large bronze knocker to strike the plate beneath it three times, pausing for the space of several breaths between each booming strike.

There came the somewhat muffled sound of a horn blowing a short series of notes from beyond the doors, and the two jackal attendants stepped forward and held their long fan poles at an angle in front of the gate, forming a sort of triangular arch for us to pass beneath. Only then did the guards push open the doors for us.

We entered and paused while a new set of four fan-wielding attendants—also gray jackals—came forward to flank us, then we all walked slowly forward toward the dais at the end of the chamber. The throne on the raised platform was so huge, and the space so dimly lit[8] that it was a moment before I could make out the figure that sat there.

[8] The room had braziers and cressets with open flames in place of the usual crystal lamps, which filled the room with the scent of aromatic wood and incense.

The jackal on the throne was practically entombed in regalia. The first thing I noticed was a huge headdress with a giant golden disk surmounting it that rose almost to the tips of his ears. Below his muzzle, a peytral of gold and lapis lazuli covered his entire chest. He bore a scepter in each paw, one that looked something like a shepherd's crook and the other possibly a flail, though a stylized one made of precious metals and stones. The kilt-like lower body garment he wore was shaped much like the simple pleated linen skirts I had seen on several dogs of the city, but it was apparently made of overlapping inlaid gold plates.

It was like my nightmare of responsibility-wealth brought to life.

The attendants made several passes with their fans between us and the jackal I assumed was Atenar Sidi, striking poses and tracing arcs and patterns in the air that were utterly meaningless to me. A flute accompanied them from somewhere out of sight. It was obviously a required ceremony, and we all waited patiently for it to conclude.

When the attendants knelt and struck the butts of their feathered staves on the patterned marble floor, Wepaten bowed so low that I'm sure his nose touched the tiles. I gestured to the Nebulas and they did the same.

I didn't.

It was a risk, but a monarch does not bow to another unless there is a bond of fealty involved. As a pirate captain, I was the monarch of a very small kingdom composed mostly of wood, rope, and canvas, but a monarch nonetheless. I inclined my head as a show of respect, but nothing more.

Atenar, who had been slouching on his throne, barely paying attention, sat up straight. His fur was so dark that I only knew where his eyes were because of the golden makeup around them, but I'm sure they narrowed at that moment.

He said something in his native language; several sentences at least, though Wepaten only said, "Atenar Sidi welcomes you to the ancient, mighty, and populous Empire of the High Song."

"We thank the sidi for his welcome and hospitality," I replied.

Wepaten's translation seemed much longer than could reasonably be required. I glanced covertly at Ralf and the little dog was smiling slightly, which put me at ease.

Atenar then flicked a toe of his right paw without releasing the scepter he held. A swarm of attendants came out of the dim recesses of the chamber carrying a low table, cushions, plates and cutlery. They set everything up in seconds and retreated into the shadows. All the goblets, utensils and chargers were solid gold and elaborately decorated. Atenar remained on his throne where a separate table was set up before him.

When everything was prepared, Atenar spoke again, and Wepaten translated at what seemed to be a much more appropriate length. "Lord Atenar knows that ponies do not eat meat, but the first dish—an 'appetizer,' is that the correct Equuish word?"

I nodded.

"The appetizer is traditional in this situation. My lord will present it to you, but no offense will be taken if you do not partake."

"I will be happy to receive it," I replied. I had eaten meat several times before, and didn't think it would be a problem. Ponies are not absolute herbivores. Coastal pegasi often eat fish, and rural earth ponies are not above getting a little extra protein in their diets via an unwary field mouse from time to time. Aside from that, the dominant species of many of the other universes I'd been to (and had been transformed into) had been omnivores or even obligate carnivores. I would cope.

An attendant advanced with a small, golden covered dish and set it on my charger. She gripped the handle at the top of the domed cover, but waited for Atenar to speak.

He barked out five short words, which Wepaten translated as, "Behold the fruits of your victory!"

The attendant whipped off the cover and backed away.

On the plate was a small morsel of roasted meat, garnished with mushrooms and a sprig of rosemary. It had a strong smell, unlike most meats I had had experience with.

I didn't hesitate. I used a tiny golden fork to pop the bit of meat into my mouth, chewed, and swallowed. It wasn't exactly pleasant, but not awful either. It had a pungent flavor and a fibrous texture.

Atenar and Wepaten traded looks. I'm not exactly proficient in reading canine facial expressions, but they didn't exactly seem happy. I was honoring their custom, so I couldn't figure out why that wouldn't be welcomed.

I smiled at them both. I wanted this first-contact to go well.

"I am unfamiliar with this," I said to Wepaten. "What sort of meat is it?"

"Heart," he replied.

Eugh! The things I do for diplomacy, I thought. I really, really wish I had left it at that, but my stupid, compulsive curiosity drove me to ask, "What sort of heart?"

"Our dogs have begun to search the wrecks. It is from the highest-ranking officer we could locate."

= = =

=

Author's Note

A long way to go for an unpleasant meal:

( Jordanis says this sort of thing is perfectly fine if you make use of the whole yeti, and I can't disagree. :trollestia: )

Mostly Vegan
(Foul Language Warning!)

18 Professional Discourtesy

Chapter Eighteen - Professional Discourtesy

We broke out the cutter for the salvage operation the next morning before dawn. Bibliophile could carry more crew and cargo than Bookmark, but had less range. That was fine, because we were only going to use her to carry us down to where the Stormguard battleships lay twisted and scattered across the flatland above the canyon's rim.

Ket loaded up parachutes, a medical kit, and emergency supplies like we were going to try to cross the South Lunar Sea to Zebrica. Third Officers are like that—good ones, anyway. I also had her stow the hundredweight of bronze and colored glass ingots that had been agreed upon for the crystal trade, along with a beautiful large chunk of lapis.

In addition to myself, the salvage crew consisted of Ao, Ket (in her zebra disguise, Zashira), both Spike and Ensign Sherbet without disguises, and a somewhat reluctant Ralf. This officer-heavy selection had little to do with practicality, and everything to do with showing the elitist jackals what they could expect from the Twilight Folk in future.

Rainbow Dash wanted to come along as well.

"I'd feel safer with you overhead, scouting for any trouble."

Dash snorted. "The Storm King ran off, the dogs are cowed, and just look at this place!" She swept a wing around, indicating the rough, empty terrain. "Like, what sort of trouble do you think is gonna sneak up on us? Sand fleas?"

"I'm paranoid, okay?"

She rolled her eyes. "I noticed."

"I noticed you're wearing your cutlass."

Dash shrugged. "Can't be too careful."

"That's my point! You can spot trouble coming a long way off if you aren't crawling around inside some burned-out hulk, and you have a better chance of being able to do something about it than anypony else left aboard."

'Yeah… I guess so. But if you find anything really cool, grab it for me, will you?"

"Of course, Dash."

Even though almost all of the salvage party could fly, we all squeezed into Bibliophile for the trip down. The High Song[1] were watching, and they lived and breathed formality and ritual, so I was determined to give them a show.

[1] That's what Ralf assured me was the proper collective name for any group from the city. No stranger than "Townies," or "Twilight Folk," I suppose.

When we landed near the waiting group of jackals, Ao placed a little two-step ladder on the ground and Ket piped me ashore with a bosun's whistle. Ridiculous, but we'd often had to perform such formalities for groups that set great store by such things. Bibliophile was even flying my personal burgee[2] from her envelope rudder.

[2] A small triangular flag indicating I was aboard the craft—which would be blindingly obvious at a glance, even without the flag. Traditions.

Wepaten wasn't among the welcoming committee, but three highly decorated black jackals bearing golden staves topped with gems were obviously the leaders of their party. They bowed as we approached, and their dog retainers flattened themselves on the ground.

I think I hid my distaste for the prostration well enough. "Greetings! I believe you are here to assist us?"

"Indeed, Captain Blackmane," the central jackal replied. "But first, we beg your indulgence in allowing us to complete a small piece of other business." He waved a dog up and forward who was carrying a large wooden box. The dog bowed down so that the top of the box was at the perfect level to serve as a desk, and held it there while the jackal opened the top and removed some documents and writing utensils.

"My Sidi commands me to present you with this letter of marque and reprisal."

There were two copies, both signed by Atenar Sidi and with blank spaces for my own signature. The jackal placed them on the top of the box and offered me a quill.

I smiled and nodded to him, and then began to read the document. He shifted uncomfortably and cleared his throat. "Dumatar Rati begs your pardon Captain, but you are to sign these."

I didn't bother to look up from the pages. "I understand, Rati. I will sign them as soon as I am familiar with the terms of the agreement"

I might as well have slapped him. His lips curled up to reveal the tips of his teeth."B-but this was commanded by the Sidi himself!"

I didn't answer, but kept on reading. The terms were very favorable to the High Song, of course. But the Sidi had become so accustomed to absolute power and obedience that he (or his advisors) had gotten lazy. Though he demanded a very large tariff for any goods "acquired" within or transported across his territory, he neglected to specify who would evaluate them. He also didn't nail down several other important details.

Before Dumatar could work himself up into a frenzy of outrage on behalf of the Sidi, I finished reading and verifying that both copies were identical. "This looks fine," I said, scrawled Blackmane's signature on both, and passed one copy back to him.

The jackal captain deflated a bit, seemingly mollified, and put the copy of the letter back in the box. Then he reached down and pulled out something else. It was a small sandalwood box that he opened and held out for my inspection. In the velvet-lined interior lay a clear crystal that perfectly matched the specifications I had given Wepaten Seti the day before. I lightly brushed it with my magic. It was uncharged, but flawless.

"This is perfect, Dumatar Rati!" I levitated the Bronze, glass, and lapis out of the jolly boat, floated it over, and set it all down on the sand at his paws. "Please accept the addition of this lapis lazuli as a token of my appreciation and respect for your Sidi."

He made no comment, but waved forward a half-dozen dogs to carry the box and materials back into the tunnel. I passed the little sandalwood box to Ket. "Please stow this under Bibliophile's sternsheets, Ms. Zashira." I didn't say "carefully" because it would have been an insult to my Third Mate's professional sensibilities. Where cargo was concerned, she did everything carefully.

When she returned, Dumatar made a sweeping gesture toward the nearest wreck. "We will escort you, honored Captain."

"That is very kind of you!" I told him. "But I think we will start with that one over there." I jerked my head toward the big airship that had hit the ground and rolled nearly keel upward before it broke in half. Tempest had given me some advice about which ship to search first and where various items might be stowed.

I walked off toward the wreck without waiting for Dumatar, and my crew followed. It was soon obvious why the Rati had attempted to distract me with another vessel; the one I was headed toward hadn't been searched yet. And there was a very good reason for that.

The airship's broken keel had twisted as it snapped, but hadn't ripped the hull open wide enough for a pony to squeeze through. She was a completely enclosed design, and her upper (now lower) structure that contained her gas cells had crumpled under the weight of the crew and cargo section. Her ballast had flooded down through her interior, along with a lot of the thick oil that the Storm King's ships burned in their engines. It was a mess.

The hull had the expected anti-thaumic coating, but I could easily reach in through the cracks and get a grip on the inside of the plating with my magic. I peeled a wide section off of the ribs and mashed one end down into the sand forming a crude ramp into the interior.

"Please, Honored Captain," Dumatar called out to me. "Allow my dogs to enter before you. There were survivors in the other ships. There may be some here, too!"

I noticed that the burly dogs behind him had drawn weirdly-shaped swords from their belts. Despite looking like bronze question marks, I could see that the weapons were very practical ones. Apparently well-used, also—if I was any judge.

"Thank you for your concern, but I can deal with any survivors if need be." I said, and climbed up the ramp.

I lit my horn at the top and stepped into what appeared to be a store room. There was a jumble of mechanical parts and broken shelving on the overhead, and a strong stench of oil and blood. The hatch across from me was twisted off its hinges, and there was a dark companionway beyond.

"It's clear," I called back to the Nebulas. "Light your gems and follow me."

The rest of the crew climbed up the ramp as I entered the companionway, the jackals and dogs following closely after. I went along until I came to a cross intersection, and swept my hornlight both directions, fore and aft. There were yeti bodies jammed into the forward section, obviously dead. I turned right and came to a ladder, which was above me on the deck, leading upward into darkness.

I looked back at the crew. "We'll go that way," I told them, pointing to the opening where the ladder disappeared. "It's too narrow to risk flying in here so I'll levitate us up there."

Ao spoke up. "Your pardon Captain, but this one does not require cumbersome wings to fly. Might this one proceed you to the next deck and provide a lookout while you move the crew?"

"Good idea, Ao. Go ahead and—"

Right at that moment, Spike gave a choking gurgle and hacked up a scroll.

"Excuse me, I've got to take this," I said, grabbing the scroll and unrolling it. The jackals goggled and muttered among themselves.

The message was from Celestia. A fleet of airships had been spotted off Equestria's east coast, heading northward. The description the captain of the griffin merchant airship had given the telegraph office in Baltimare matched the Stormguard ships, and since they were paralleling the coast, but over the horizon, they were obviously up to no good.

I scribbled out a hasty reply to Celestia on the back of the paper, promising to discuss the situation with Luna that night in Seaward Shoals. Spike had developed very good control over his breath, but with all the oil around us I didn't want to risk any accidents, so I briefly enclosed him in a little shield bubble while he sent the reply.

"Okay! Ms. Ao, go on up. I'll be right behind you."

We worked our way aft, finding more bodies but no survivors until we reached a large, open bay full of scrambled cargo. Trapped beneath a pile of half-smashed crates was a big yeti who glared at us and futilely scrabbled for a poleaxe that was well out of his reach.

"Easy, there!" I called out to him. "We're not going to—"

A big dog stepped around me and plunged his sword into the helpless creature's neck.

I didn't slam the dog into the nearest bulkhead, but I really wanted to for a couple of seconds. I took several deep breaths while my crew looked at me for some signal, and then said to Dumatar Rati, "Please don't kill any more wounded. I wish to deal with them myself."

"As you wish, Captain," he replied, and casually relayed the request to his dogs.

We found two more live yetis before we reached the hold that Tempest had described to me. One was too far gone to be helped, and I removed his helmet and put him into a deep, painless sleep from which he wouldn't awaken. The other had two badly broken legs but was otherwise in good shape. He tried to fight us, but Ao and I got him tied up quickly and I teleported him back to Nebula for Dr. Woundwort to deal with. I looked forward to a conversation between him and Tempest when the anesthesia wore off.

Tempest had told me that the secret compartment beneath the hold's deck might be hard to find and difficult to open, but the violent crash and near-complete rollover had taken care of all that for us. On top of the wreckage of the hold's ordinary cargo was a hatch that looked very much like a section of the deck above us. On top of that hatch was a heavy, iron-bound chest.

I smiled. "Zashira, trap protocol, if you please!"

"Aye-aye, Captain!" my sometimes zebra Third Officer replied. She unlimbered a brass case from her harness and took out a set of very specialized tools. After a minute or two of fiddling she stood up and stowed the tools away, leaving a long steel shim wedged below the lid of the chest. "There is a spring-loaded surprise under the lid. It's probably a dart-thrower or something similar. It should be jammed now."

"Thank you, Zashira! Everyone please step back." I lifted the chest in my magic, spun it until the hinges pointed toward us, and lifted the lid. There was a sharp, metallic click and… Nothing else. I floated a little inspection mirror over so that I could look into the chest without exposing myself.

"Ah." I gently set the chest back on top of the hatch. I hated to risk anypony else, but since I was the only one of us who had a hope of de-petrifying someone, I turned to Zashira again. "There's a glass sphere in the trap. Carefully remove it and toss it over the pile away from us if you can. If there's any chance it might break, leave it."

She nodded and carefully approached the chest again. It only took her a second. I've said it many times; she's the best Third Officer (and intricate security mechanism specialist[3]) there is. As a changeling, she's also good at reading emotions, and since she'd been standing next to me when I'd seen what was in the chest, she didn't shout out, "Holy frippin' frass!" when she glanced inside.

[3] Okay, safecracker.

The glass sphere shattered on the far bulkhead and a bouquet of glittering black crystals blossomed there with a crackling hiss.

I closed the chest and fastened the hasp. "This should do nicely for a token of our victory," I said to Dumatar Rati. "We will return to our ship now."

All pretense of obsequious helpfulness vanished. "Dumatar has been commanded by his Sidi to inspect any items you wish to claim." His two companions gripped their staves and the dogs behind them spread out and held their swords ready.

"Oh? Hmn…" I pulled out the freshly signed letter of marque from my pocket and pretended to examine it. "Nope. No clause about spoils of war anywhere in here. Under generally accepted convention, all of this—" I swept a hoof around at the surrounding airship. "—is my prize." I put the letter back in my pocket.

"Open the chest," the rati said.

"Nebulas, to me," I said quietly. "Press in close." I couldn't teleport us out because we had too many highly-charged magical items among us. A thaumic detonation is all too likely when attempting to transit such things, and I really didn't want fragments of my crew and I scattered through interstitial space.

"If you want to do things the hard way, Rati, I will be only too happy to oblige. But be warned, I have—"

The gem on his staff blazed and a searing bolt of energy shot straight at my face.

It's a sad fact that magic fights aren't usually won by better or stronger magic. In almost all cases, aside from formal duels with limitations and rules, victory usually goes to the pony (or jackal) who gets off the first shot. But I had been expecting something like this and had called up a shield spell under cover of pompously monologuing. The shot bounced off the spherical shield and hit the deck above us. The other jackals began firing, and when their shots bounced off as well, they all concentrated their firepower on one spot just in front of me, and the pulses turned into steady beams. It was a good tactic. Despite reflecting most of their energy upward, the beams of energy began to quickly erode my shield. So, I spun it up.

In seconds, my shield was rotating so quickly that the force was effectively on a ring around its surface, instead of a single point. "Don't touch the inside of the shield!" I warned my crew. I didn't have the strength to spare for an inner static shield, and any contact with the rapidly moving field would be like trying to lean against a speeding freight train.

Even though I had spread out the attack, I could still feel the shield weakening. The power of the gems on those staffs was incredible. I began to bob the sphere up and down in a steady sine wave, and that did the trick. Finally, the shield could dissipate the energy quicker than it absorbed it.

I felt relieved until one of the jackals yelled to the dogs, and a couple of them ran off—to get reinforcements, no doubt. Even with my storage gems, I couldn't keep the shield up forever.

"I don't want to hurt you!" I yelled to the jackals. They didn't reply and they didn't stop firing. Oh well, I tried.

Their reflected shots had already shattered the deck above us, but there didn't seem to be anything beyond but an empty ballast tank. When I reduced the matrix factor of the spell that generated my shield, it went from a smooth sphere to a faceted one. That may not seem like a big change, but picture a beam of light hitting a mirror. Nice and predictable, right? Now picture that same beam hitting a spinning disco ball.

Now picture that beam of light as high energy magic blasts in an enclosed space with puddles of fuel oil and a dark magic crystal trap in the corner of the room. No matter how good your imagination is, the real event was worse.

Fortunately, I already had a heavy shield up, and it protected us from the resulting explosion and fire for a critical few seconds before it failed. I blasted through the bulkhead into the next compartment and then again into the next until I penetrated the outer hull. After the heavy blasts and keeping up the shield for so long, I had to fall back on my power gems to levitate the crew and the chest out through the wreckage. Ao brought up the rear and kept the oily flames off of us with gusts of magical wind. I didn't waste what magic I had left in the gems with more levitation once we'd gotten outside, but plunked Ralf down on my back while Zashira carried the chest.

"Back to Bibliophile!" I yelled, and sprinted for the cutter.

I tumbled back aboard with Ralf while Zashira placed the chest between the central pair of thwarts and resumed being Khaatarrekket. I made sure Ralf was on the tiller and then sliced the lines fastened to the ballast sandbags and the mooring stakes. Bibliophile leaped upward as the rest of the crew circled her in the air.

Below us, several coughing dogs, their fur singed and smoking, stumbled out of the wreck at the same time as three more jackals with an entourage of fighting dogs erupted up out of the sand from newly dug tunnels. The surviving dogs of the first party called out to the jackals, gesturing upward at Bibliophile. The jackals pointed their staffs at Bibliophile's gasbag.

An instant after their gems began to glow, Rainbow Dash blazed by, right in front of them, and the top thirds of their staves fell to the ground, cut clean through by Dash's cutlass. The decapitated gems flickered and went out amid a chorus of angry snarls.

Dash climbed up to our elevation and winked at me. "Y'okay, Twi?"

"Never better, you outrageous show-off!" I grinned at her.

She smiled back. "Love you too, Captain Sootmane!"

Ao swooped by just then and flew next to us as we rose. "Officer Ket returned to Nebula to prepare for a hasty retreat."

"Good! I think that's the best plan right now."

I leaned over the side and watched Spike and Sherbet climbing up below us. "Go on to the ship," I called out to them as soon as they were close enough to hear me clearly. "Get ready to take Bibliophile in tow; I don't want to waste time stowing her away!"

They both yelled "Aye-aye," and disappeared above our envelope.

"If the hounds pursue us, Majesty?" Ao asked.

"Ralf thinks it unlikely," Ralf put in. "Dogs do not like flying."

I raised an eyebrow at him.

"Most dogs—Majesty."

Dash burst out laughing.

"Oh no you don't!" I said to the little dog. "It's bad enough this overgrown murder-noodle does it! It's 'Captain' to you! Understand, Engineer Ralf?"

"Understood—" He wagged his tail at me. "—Captain."

= = =

=

Author's Note

Blackmane's Burgee

19 Delegating Diplomacy

Chapter Nineteen - Delegating Diplomacy

We quickly got Nebula moving. I swapped out my exhausted gems for freshly charged ones; all that I had. I covered our retreat while Dash and Ao covered me. Fortunately for them, no more staff-wielding jackals appeared, because I was completely over playing nice with the puppies, and really didn't want any more blood on my horn.

The yeti prisoner was still being worked over by Dr. Woundwort, so I gathered the girls and Clove Hitch together and explained what had happened.

Rarity surprised me by sighing dramatically and saying, "It's a shame Pinkie and I weren't the ones to contact them."

"Uh… What?"

"Oh please, darling! If the old map table still worked, our cutie marks would definitely have been hovering over the place, and if you think about it for a moment, you'll see why."

"Rarity, I don't…" But I did. I saw exactly why I'd mucked everything up.

"Even Winona’ll bite a pony if she’s cornered and scared," Applejack added, helpfully.

"Some Princess of Friendship I am," I grumbled.

"Well dear, that's the crux of the matter!" Rarity said. "You aren't the Princess of Friendship right now. You're Captain Blackmane on the hunt. That's exactly what we need to put an end to that dreadful Storm King, but not what was needed down there."

I rubbed my forehead just beneath my horn and sighed. "I could have just changed back. I should have—"

Rarity shook her head and reached up to tap the silver mask she wore. "These things always come with a price, and sometimes they are very hard to remove on the spur of the moment."

Captain Blackmane never screamed or cried in frustration, so I took a deep breath and said, "Well then, Silver Mask, what course of action do you suggest?"

"When we arrive in Seaward Shoals, give me command of one of the relief airships and transfer our trade cargo over to her. Pinkie and I will return to the High Song on a joint trade mission from Twilight Town and Marezambique. No connection to the dreaded pirate Blackmane at all! If we don't have treaties in hoof inside of two days, I'll eat an eyepatch!"

I grinned. "Marezambique?"

"Think of it as a consulting fee, if you like. Do I have to hold up a little double crocodile?"

"Hey, wait a minute!" Rainbow Dash said. "Two whole days? Aren't we going to chase down the Storm King? If we wait that long isn't he gonna, like, get away?"

Well, I was wearing the mask, I thought I might as well put it to use. I turned and gave Dash a cold stare. "There's no place he can run to that I won't find him."

= = =

It wasn't until we sighted the coastal juniper woodlands that I started to relax. I had crewponies take Bibliophile aboard, deflate her envelope, and stow her away.

I personally took the chest and the little sandalwood box below and put them in the hidden compartment beneath the deck of the guest cabin. I needed to reassure myself that something good had come out of my deadly screw-up, so I took another peek in the chest before I locked it away. Imagining the expressions on the Nebulas' faces when they were paid their shares of this voyage did make me smile a little bit.

The Equestrian airships hadn't arrived by the time we got to Seaward Shoals, so I sent Dash north to find them and let them know we were waiting. I hoped that she'd burn off at least a little of her nervous energy.

First, we took our crewmembers and the "sensitive" cargo back on board. Then we rigged a couple of stun'sl yards as cargo booms, and started off-loading the trade goods. The rest of the crew went to work on repair tasks, except for Ralf, who went ashore to look for materials suitable to fabricate a replacement engine cover. We had a good amount of sheet metal in the stores, but not a single piece big enough to make a large cover. I didn't want Nebula to look like a patchwork quilt if we could avoid it.

By then, the doctor was finished with the wounded yeti, so I grabbed Tempest and Grubber and went to talk with him. He was lashed to the big table in my cabin, encased in plaster from the hips downward. He sneered at me when I walked in, then gasped when he saw Tempest Shadow.

"Commander?" His voice was deep and gravelly, but perfectly understandable.

Tempest looked down at him coldly. "Did the King escape the bombardment?"

The yeti shrugged. "I got a look at the wrecks from up on the deck. Flagship wasn't one of them."

Tempest grinned and extended her hoof to me, frog upward, as if offering me an object.

"Huh. That was easy. Let me try. Where is the Eastern Fleet heading?" I asked the yeti.

The yeti frowned and spoke to Tempest. "What's going on? Who is this pony? What happened to the other ships?"

"A lot of things have changed," Tempest told him. "First we need to get some information from you, and then we will fill you in."

It turned out that the yeti assumed Tempest was still a fleet commander and willingly answered all of her questions. Unfortunately, he was low-ranking and almost all of his answers amounted to, "I don't know." He even assumed that it was the High Song that had blasted his fleet. He did know that the fleet's fallback point was Klugetown. He told us that the Eastern fleet's target was in the far north in the Yaket Range, but that was only scuttlebutt.[1]

[1] Shipboard rumors.

Tempest, as she had promised, explained the current situation to the prisoner. He was, understandably, not happy about it. Sometime during his shouted tirade, Ao arrived. She looked at me and cocked her head in his direction, drawing her forehoof across her throat. I shook my head. Ao shrugged and settled back with her forelegs crossed over her chest.

When the yeti finally ran out of threats, I told him he was a prisoner of war and had Ao chain him up in the cargo hold. Tempest, Grubber, and I went on deck.

Spike was on the quarterdeck, and he had his little scribal satchel with him. "Always prepared, eh, Mr. Lance?"

"Of course, Captain!"

"Take a message for Princess Celestia."

He quickly got out the necessary materials and wrote out the opening line.

"The Storm King has retreated to Klugetown with what is left of his fleet and I will pursue it soon." I dictated. "I don't know the objective of the Eastern Fleet, but Tempest said one of the King's possible targets is near Mount Everhoof. I have some corroboration of that, but I don't know exactly what he's looking for there. Luna should arrive here in Seaward Shoals shortly. I will fill her in, and send a copy of this information to Cadance."

"Got it!" Spike said. "Should I sign it Twilight Sparkle or Captain Blackmane?"

The question was unexpected and my brain sort of locked up when I heard it.

After a second or two of silence, Spike said, "Twi?"

I was briefly tempted to tell him to put down Captain Twilight Blacksparkle, Fearsome Yeti-Slayer, but that was probably incipient hysteria talking.

"Just Twilight should do." I think I sounded almost normal.

= = =

I was standing at the starboard rail, hoping to catch sight of Luna's ships when the speaking tube from the cupola gave three sharp whistles, the signal for urgent information.

"Blackmane here," I said into the tube, then put my ear to the tube's mouth.

"Ornithopter coming up fast on the Larboard quarter, Captain! 'Bout half a league out."

"Mount the net thrower at the top and load wire!" I replied. Then, to the main deck, "All hooves to battle stations! Mount net throwers and load wire![2] Fluttershy, stand by the wheel! We may need to cast off."

[2] The net throwers did exactly what it sounded like they did: they threw nets. It was a good, non-lethal way of taking flyers out of the air under most circumstances. The regular rope nets had parachutes attached, in order to safely lower captured flyers to the ground. The wire nets were for tougher, more dangerous targets.

I ran to the larboard quarter[3]and got out my best spyglass. It took me a moment to find the flying machine, but it glinted and gleamed in the lowering sun, making it an easy target. There was a single black jackal piloting it, and it was pulling a drogue of white silk. There didn't appear to be any other aircraft following.

[3] For non-aeronauts, that's the rear left corner of the ship.

I collapsed my spyglass and stowed it in my pocket. "Ao!"

Ao was at my side in seconds, wearing her long swords along with a belt of assorted deadly tools. "Captain?"

I pointed. "The jackal is flying a flag requesting parley, but I'd rather not let them get too close to Nebula. Fly out and tell them to land near the stern ground anchor. I'll join you as soon as the machine has landed and switched off."

"This one obeys, Captain." She flowed out over the rail and rippled toward the approaching flier.

"Net throwers, do not release unless the craft comes closer than our stern mooring line or attempts to circle us," I told the crew.

The ponies on the throwers called out "Aye-aye!" acknowledging my order.

I took out my spyglass again and watched Ao hail the ornithopter. It was close enough that I could see the beautiful design of the machine. The double dragonfly-like wings moved too fast to make out details, but they threw off colored sparkles of light as they buzzed.

Ao flew alongside the craft for a minute or two, presumably speaking with its pilot, and then fell back behind and above it as it began to descend.

By then, the ornithopter was close enough that I didn't need my spyglass. The pilot, who I was pretty sure was Wepaten Seti, set it down a few lengths from the big iron spike-and-ring that anchored Nebula's stern mooring line, shut down the engine, and stepped out of the tiny open cockpit. Ao landed behind him.

I completely blame my Pirate Captain mask for what I did next. It was stupid and unnecessary, but it felt so good.

I made sure that Wepaten had seen me leaning over the stern and then jumped over the rail and hooked my foreleg around the mooring line. I slid down the cable, mane, tail and coat flapping like banners until I got near enough to the ground, and then let go, falling into a trot that brought me to the nose of the jackal's flying machine.

Ao's barbels practically vibrated.

Wepaten stepped forward and fell on his pointy face. At first, I thought he had tripped over a wing strut or something, but then I realized he was prostrating himself.

"Stand up and face me," I told him somewhat irritably. "You're a warrior, not a servant!"

He looked up at me uncertainly, and I made an impatient gesture with my hoof. He rose but only to one knee, so that his head was level with mine. "I come to beg for forgiveness—"

"What? I'm the one who killed your… I mean, they did it to themselves, really. Firing blasts of magical energy in a hold full of spilled fuel? What were they thinking? Still, I'm sorry they died, and I would rather it hadn't happened."

Wepaten gaped at me.

"No, really! Please convey my sincere regrets for the incident to your Sidi."

Wepaten said nothing.

"I'm actually glad you came," I said, desperately trying to fill the awkward silence. "I have an ambassador on board representing Twilight Town and Marezambique. She would very much like to get formal relations worked out between those nations and the High Song, and I believe she has some gifts to present to Atenar Sidi. Oh yes, and Princess Luna of Equestria will be here soon. I'd like you to meet her and talk a little diplomacy as well."

Wepaten only stared.

"This one believes you may have damaged the commander's mind, honored captain," Ao stage-whispered to me.

"There have been a lot of sudden, drastic changes recently, Ms. Ao. It takes some time to adjust."

"Yes," Wepaten croaked. "Adjust."

"See? He's fine!"

= = =

I levitated Wepaten and myself back aboard Nebula. He was very stiff and correct in his speech and manners as I began making introductions, which I took for a defensive reaction.

Rarity was a wonder. She took charge of the tour and responded in kind to the jackal's formal comportment, slowly easing him into a more relaxed attitude. They ended up in the captain's cabin with drinks and snacks, chatting away like old friends.

I scrupulously kept clear of them, sitting at the little table in the chart room where I could eavesdrop a bit. When they began to discuss styles of High Song jewelry, my attention wandered and I picked up The Art of Travel to browse through.

Some time later, the door opened and Rarity stepped through. "I am certain you will get on well with Princess Luna, Commander Wepaten! She is a very traditional sort of monarch."

"I look forward to… Ah, Captain Blackmane!"

I looked up from my book. "Hello, you two. Negotiations went well?"

"Fabulously, dear! I think the High Song will be valuable allies as well as trading partners."

"Excellent! Wepaten Seti, Princess Luna hasn't arrived yet, and your meeting with her may run long. I assume you won't want to risk flying back to Conundrum in the dark, so I'd like to offer you Nebula's guest cabin for the night. I understand if you would feel more comfortable on the ground, so I will have arrangements made for that, if you prefer. In any case, I would be honored if you would dine aboard tonight with the princess, ambassador, and some of my officers."

"Wepaten would be delighted to…" He trailed off, staring at the bulkhead next to me.

I turned slightly so that I could see the woven wind chart hanging above the table. "Ah, the chart! Made by your people, I believe."

His eyes flicked back and forth between me and the chart. "Yes… We…"

"Is there something concerning you, Commander?" Rarity asked quietly.

He shook his head. "After the last two days, Wepaten should not be surprised that Captain Blackmane has a chart of the Katabatic Reef. It is a treasure that many—" He hesitated for a fraction of a second. "—privateers have fought and died over."

I instantly thought of a dozen different ploys to get more information about the chart out of the jackal, but… Well, I suppose you could say that my mask slipped a bit and I went for honesty.

"Oh? That's fascinating. I have to admit to you that I had no clue what it was until recently, and no idea how to read it. Perhaps we can speak of it more after dinner?"

He still looked a little stunned when he replied, "Of course." He cleared his throat and continued. "Wepaten will gratefully accept your hospitality, Captain Blackmane. May Wepaten be shown to the cabin now and be given a short while to… To rest?"

"Certainly!" I called for Midshippony Lance and had him escort the jackal down to the guest cabin. Spike was all brisk efficiency and earnest politeness. He wore his mask well.

When they had gone, Rarity turned to me and gestured to the woven chart. "That little bit of craftwork seemed to surprise him. Do you know what it is?"

"Other than it's an odd sort of chart for aerial navigation? No. But the name is a type of temperature driven wind. Remember the winter currents in the southern Mareghreb, along the edge of the Chimera Massif?

"Oh, Celestia! Clear air that felt like a thunderstorm? I couldn't possibly forget!"

"Well—those were katabatic winds."

"Oh. Oh dear."

The arrival of Rainbow Dash put a stop to any possible fruitless speculation. "Heya, Skipper! Luna's ships are coming in. They're about two leagues north, now. Should be here in, like, half an hour or less."

I couldn't wait that long. "Rarity, organize a meal worthy of our guest, would you? Dash, let Ao know I've left the ship and will be back in time for dinner," I said as I shucked off my greatcoat and disguise amulet. I heard their acknowledgments as I trotted through the captain's cabin and threw myself out of an open port light.[4]

[4] A port light is a square window, usually only found at the stern of sailing or flying ships, sometimes called stern lights.

I flew flat-out, heading northward.

= = =

It was an odd little fleet, made up of a wide variety of types of airships. All I cared about was the big, beautiful mare standing in the bow of the Aeronautical Service revenue cutter leading the others. It took all my willpower to maintain a politely neutral attitude in front of the ship's officers after I had been welcomed aboard.

"The situation is—complex," I said to the gathered officers. "But Seaward Shoals is as safe as can be at the moment. There is a good mooring ground prepared and marked out for your ships and teams of ponies on the rocks to help with your anchors and cables."

"Thank you, Princess Twilight," the captain of the airship said. "May I invite you to dine aboard Javelin tonight?"

"I'm honored, Captain, but I have obligations for tonight. Perhaps tomorrow?"

He gave me a little bow. "Of course Your Highness. Tomorrow it is."

"I… I apologize for my presumption, but I have also saddled Princess Luna with my obligations for this evening as well."

The captain looked to Luna, who smiled (Oh, that smile…) and said, "We understand that, in times of war, plans for dining must sometimes undergo unexpected changes. We are not terribly perturbed."

I was running out of patience. "Captain, I will send Nebula's Third Mate over to you when you're safely moored to help with organizing the off-loading of your cargo tomorrow. We have all the wagons and teamsters in the town ready to remove the goods at a reasonable clip to keep things running along smoothly."

"Thank you, Princess."

"Good! Well! Now, if I may escort you, Princess Luna?"

"We would welcome it, Prin—"

My abrupt teleport ripped us off Javelin's deck and tumbled us into my cabin aboard Nebula.

Luna made no protest whatsoever. In fact, she grabbed me around the barrel, hauled me upright, pinned me against the cabin bulkhead, and began thoroughly and almost violently kissing me. It was exactly what I needed right then.

= = =

=

Author's Note

Another big vote of thanks to Jordanis for pointing out that, no matter how clever I think I am by subtly implying certain things, there is a time when I need to say those things clearly, directly, and loudly!

20 Conversations in the Night

Chapter Twenty - Conversations in the Night

All too soon, there came a fairly insistent knock on the cabin door.

Luna and I stepped away from each other and with a couple of well-practiced spells, we groomed ourselves. I shrugged into my coat and dropped the disguise amulet over my head.

"Come in!"

Rarity entered and bowed to Luna. "Your Majesty!"

Luna bowed to Rarity. "Your Majesty!"

"No, you!" Rarity replied, and then they both giggled like school fillies. I tried (and failed) to stop myself from grinning; such behavior shouldn't be encouraged.

Rarity turned to me. "Darling, I've got everything well in hoof for the dinner! If you will allow me…?"

I doubt I could have stopped her. "Of course."

Her horn lit and a veritable parade of cushions, cutlery, candles, and platinum plate streamed into the cabin, all of it landing in precise patterns on a very expensive-looking, golden-brown tablecloth.

I lifted the edge of the cloth and peered at it. "Rarity, is this vicuña? I didn't know we had a vicuña tablecloth."

"Well, it's not for everyday use!"

I didn't directly comment on the foolishness of a soft, fluffy tablecloth. As a sacrifice of utility for the sake of a display of wealth, I'd seen far worse. "What's next? Ivory knife rests?"

She pointed her hoof at an ivory knife rest. "The elephants are much easier to negotiate with than the vicuñas, believe me!"

"We used to have a candelabra made from griffin claws," Luna said.

"Oh?" Rarity glanced up from her arrangements. "I didn't know griffins shed their claws."

"They don't," Luna replied. "That was during the First Griffin War when sensibilities were less refined, and there was a ready supply."

Rarity frowned. "You mean you—"

Luna shrugged. "Back then, the Griffins made a habit of eating 'lesser races,' and pony meat was a particular favorite among them, so we thought it only fair."

Rarity considered it, also shrugged, and floated in a set of beautifully calligraphed place cards. "Isn't it nice that we've all become a little more civilized?"

"I really liked that candelabra," Luna said wistfully.

"I used to enjoy fancy meals," I muttered under my breath.

"What was that, dear?"

"Oh, just wondering what the appetizer is going to be."

"You'll know soon enough! Now, why don't you go dress for dinner while I finish up here. I suggest that lovely green blouse. You know, the silk one with the ruffles at the neck and chest? It matches your current eye color quite well."

Luna and I couldn't both stand in my little sleeping cabin at the same time, so she waited outside while I went through my locker to find the outfit Rarity had recommended. "You know I'm just hanging on by a thread here, right?" I said to her as I shook out the clothing and swept a cleaning and de-wrinkling spell over it.

She reached in and pressed her muzzle against my cheek for a kiss. "You have a way of fiercely concentrating on the task at hoof that means you are struggling to avoid thinking of something else. I know it all too well, my love."

"Just so you know. After dinner I will need to rant and scream and probably break down for a little while."

"I will be there for comfort and counsel, my dearest. I have selected a secluded place where we will have no fear of interruption."

"I love you so much," I said softly.

She kissed my cheek again.

I told her I wanted to go in to dinner first, so that I could be the one to introduce Wepaten Seti to her, and she readily agreed.

"I'm going to put out the lamps here, so that you can shadow-walk into the cabin. Put on a good show for the jackal officer, okay?"

"If you think that best."

Spike came and told us that dinner was ready to be served.

I strode through the companionway door to find everyone else at their places, and was careful to leave the door dogged open behind me.

I greeted the others and made sure they had all been introduced, and then turned to the doorway. The darkness of the companionway flowed out into the cabin, swirling and coalescing into Luna's regal and imposing form. "Your Divine Highness, may I present to you Commander Wepaten of the Empire of the High Song."

Wepaten bowed very low. His tail curled downward as if he really wanted to tuck it between his legs.

"We are delighted to make your acquaintance, Commander," Luna said. "We knew many Anubians in the old times, and are gratified to learn that your race has not vanished from the world."

"It is my utmost pleasure, Your Highness," he replied. "You are legendary[1] among my people."

[1] A good choice of words, there. By "legendary," he could have meant either "well-renowned" or "considered fictional." Diplomacy often relies on deliberate vagaries like that.

As a living goddess slightly outranked an airship captain of dubious quality, Luna sat at the head of the table, while I took my seat at the foot with the riff-raff. That suited me fine, because diplomacy was not Captain Blackmane's strong suit, as I had proven time and time again. Ao, Zashira, and I replied when we were spoken to, and otherwise we kept our mouths shut and observed.

The meal was excellent, and there were no surprises. Ralf had given up some of his ration stores to provide the Seti with a couple of meat courses. The conversation, on the other hoof, was full of surprises. As awed as he had been by her on introduction, by the time dessert was served, Wepaten was laughing and joking with Luna in a relaxed and companionable way. They were telling each other war stories.

"...and when the hawk captain asked if there were jackals in the ravine, his scout replied, 'I don't know, but there are arrows down there,' and fell dead with two in his back!"

Luna roared with laughter and pounded the table with her forehooves. Rarity demurely covered her mouth with a silk napkin and gave a lady-like titter. I have to admit that the rest of us laughed, too. I guess sudden death is funny if it involves a good punchline.

When I judged that Wepaten had been lubricated with a sufficient amount of metheglin and comradery, I brought up the subject of the wind chart.

"Ah yes," he said. "Great secrets openly hanging on your bulkhead. Wepaten regrets that he did not know before now what a fascinating and capable race you ponies are."

"What makes a simple wind chart so important?" I asked.

Wepaten moved glasses and cutlery around the table to form an improvised map. "Klugetown is here, and around it, dozens of leagues of open desert. No way to approach or leave without being seen. No way to avoid pursuit or capture by a faster vessel, you see?"

I nodded my understanding. "I imagine that many pirate ships haunt the sahel,[2] waiting for a rich prize to take."

[2] The edge of the desert. Literally, "shore" in Saddle Arabic.

Wepaten nodded. "No secret route for merchants or smugglers—except one." He plunked down a saucer to his left. "Conundrum is here." He placed a knife, handle touching the saucer and blade pointing at the tumbler that represented Klugetown. "The Katabatic Reef. Everyone knows it is there; a canyon more than deep enough to hide a craft such as Nebula, but also a maze of violent, shifting winds that can tear an airship from the sky and smash it against the towering rocks of the badlands without warning. It is useless, except as a curiosity."

"Unless someone has a chart that lets them avoid the worst of the winds," I said.

"Precisely! With that map—"

I floated it in from the chart room and placed it before him on the table.

"Ah, yes. You see? Here is Conundrum and the High Song." He pointed at a cluster of beads. "Here is Klugetown at this side." He traced a winding path from one side of the chart to the other. "Invaluable to certain people… Or at least it was, before the Storm King came. Now, there are no more pirates, smugglers, or merchants that do not belong to him." He sounded distinctly regretful about the local lack of extra-legal commerce for some reason.

Luna spoke up. "I imagine the Stormguard ships keep close watch on all the air routes?"

Wepaten looked like he was going to spit. "Not a sparrow could get by them! No cargo passes without heavy bribes or the surrendering of a large portion to their monstrous king! Each ship is searched or sunk at their whim. Wrecks surround Klugetown like barrows."

Luna leaned close to him and spoke in a low, conspiratorial voice. "You do know that Captain Blackmane has taken a vow to put an end to the Storm King, do you not?"

He nodded and flicked an uneasy glance in my direction. "Wepaten fully believes she is capable of doing so."

"That is wise," Luna said, and turned to me. "Captain, would you find full knowledge of how to read this chart useful? Perhaps you could settle the matter quietly and discreetly if you could come upon the Storm King unexpectedly?"

It was like she had read my mind. "Yes. In fact I would prefer that approach, Your Highness."

Luna leaned back on her cushion and smiled. "Well then, Captain, Commander, it seems you two have a mutual interest here."

Wepaten's hopeful expression held for a moment and then faded away and he absently spun the knife on the table. "There are many of the High Song who fear Equestria. We have held our independence for a long time, and refused to yield to the Storm King even when the rest of the south had fallen to him."

Luna placed a gentle hoof over his paw. "I give you my oath that Equestria will honor the High Song's sovereignty for as long as the moon graces our skies."

"Wepaten believes you, Your Highness. But many jackals will not. We have watched ponies move south and displace the buffalo tribes. Then into the north as far as the kingdom of the yaks. Even into lands we were unaware of to the west. Ambassador Silver Mask has explained much of the reasons for that to us and if Wepaten could speak for all jackals…" He grimaced and shook his head. He looked down at the tabletop and his voice was nearly inaudible when he said, "Atenar Sidi is old and fearful."

"Atenar Sidi is not here," Luna said, and though her voice was low and soft, there was steel in it. "The future of your empire may hinge upon this matter, and now is not the time for timidity."

I could see the muscles in Wepaten's cheeks jump as he clenched his teeth. Nobody said anything for a long moment while he thought about the matter. "Yes," he finally said. "Yes, you are right, Highness. I will aid Captain Blackmane in this, but her alone. Both you and the ambassador have convinced me that the nations you represent may be great allies to the High Song, but the Captain has already made an agreement with my Empire, and she has demonstrated a—bizarrely fervent devotion to the letter of that agreement. Atenar Sidi has signed the document that outlines our alliance and I am only aiding an ally by revealing the secrets of this chart in accordance with our mutual understanding."[3] He gestured to the map on the table.

[3] I do so love a well-reasoned rationalization.

Luna smiled and stood, and the rest of us followed. "That is a decision that pleases us well, Commander! We will give you leave and privacy to consult with the captain. We hope to meet with you again soon. Perhaps you will introduce your sidi to me[4] someday?"

"It would be my honor, Princess."

[4] This may be a trivial note, but I feel I should point out that, by this particular phrasing, Luna was making it clear that she considered herself superior to the ruler of the High Song. Monarchs are not introduced, they are announced. Everypony is assumed to know exactly who they are prior to any meeting. Ponies of lesser rank are introduced to the monarch. The fact that Luna left the cabin in a magnificent swirl of star-scattered darkness only served to reinforce the presumption of her status in the world. I love her to death, but she is an extremely prideful mare. More than reasonably, of course, in my impartial and dispassionate opinion.

When everyone else had left the cabin, I went to the speaking tube, removed the whistle, and pushed the privacy stopper into place. Then I sat down next to Wepaten.

He lifted a paw over the chart and hesitated. "Is it true? Does she alone really move the moon in the sky?"

"Yes," I said. "It is a more complex matter than is usually understood, but that is essentially true. That mare you just had dinner with makes the moon rise."

He nodded. "Wepaten's people understand the great cycles of the world's magic and are able to draw upon it to our benefit in some slight ways. That the firmament also involves such magic is known to us, and our histories say that our people once wielded that power. But that a single being can command it is astounding."

Well, well, well. If his tone of voice was anything to go by, it seemed my Luna had made a conquest. I shrugged. "It's a matter of affinity and subtle influence in addition to raw strength, but Luna is an astounding pony in many ways."

"She is, indeed." He paused for a moment, giving me a long, evaluating look, and then moved his attention back to the woven wind map. "If this is followed according to the common understanding of such charts, disaster will be the result. The route has been set down, not only in this archaic form, but with some features inverted from their traditional meanings."

For the next half hour, he explained to me how to read the map, how it had been (for lack of a better phrase) booby-trapped, and went over the route in detail several times.

The knowledge of how to pop up in Klugetown before anyone realized I was coming was incredibly useful, but there was still the matter of exactly how to deal with the remnants of the Stormguard fleet.

After seeing the Commander to his cabin, I returned to my own to find the lamps extinguished and Luna there in the darkness.

"Waiting to ambush me, you fiendish mare?"

"Fiendish? Perhaps." She stepped forward and encircled me with her wings, and we swirled away through the night. When she spread her wings, we were high on a hill overlooking the ocean. "Speak to me my love. Weep or rage or trample the ground as you like. I am here for thee."

I leaned against her chest, enjoying the solid warmth of her. "Funny, but I don't feel much like histrionics at the moment. Is it okay if I just talk?"

Luna put a foreleg around my shoulder and kissed my neck.

"I nearly killed thousands of innocents… I could have been responsible for the extinction of an ancient race and culture, all because it would have been convenient for me to get rid of the Storm King without risk. I… Even if I had succeeded… It was all coldly calculated and correct, but then I saw the yeti aeronauts, dead in their ship… They had no chance to fight or run or surrender." I shuddered against her and she tightened her grip, rubbing her muzzle against my cheek. "I feel like a coward, Luna!"

"Ah, wouldst thou have stood beneath the Storm King's flagship and called for single combat, then?"

I sniffed and then actually laughed. "Oh, probably not. A couple of ponies have mentioned lately that they've noticed I'm not an idiot."

"Yet does the villain who struck at the heart of Celestia's realm deserve mercy?"

"From everything I know about him? No, it sounds like everyone would like him better with a spear through his face. At least Tempest worked for him for an understandable reason. The Storm King just wants power for its own sake."

"Our power, it seems," Luna said.

I nodded. "Yes, and it doesn't look like he's going to give up on trying to get it. If he captures…" I trailed off, staring at the night sky.

"Twilight?"

"That might just work," I said, mostly to myself.

"My love?"

I looked up at Luna and said, "Okay, this is not a hasty decision! I just want that on the record."

Luna gave me that look.

"Oh, it's one of Cady's prophetic things. Completely unhelpful! 'Don't make a decision in haste or dooooooom!'"

Luna grinned. "Ah, yes! The foretelling. I know well that such displeases you. 'Tis why I did not mention my own."

"Yeah, thanks for that… Wait. What?! You had a vision about me?"

"Oh… Ah… Well, a dream of sorts, nothing more!"

I stared at her. She fidgeted. "Luna, you have to tell me now that you've brought it up. Is it horrible?"

"Nay, quite the opposite! I'sooth, I think it may have already been fulfilled. 'Tis of no import."

I turned to face her directly and squared my shoulders. "Okay, either you tell me the prophecy, or you explain to me exactly why you keep calling Equestria 'Celestia's realm.'"

She blinked. "I dreamed of a bard I knew long ago who would sing for me when I was melancholy. We sat upon my balcony at Everfree Castle, and he sang—

"Ic wiht geseah wundorlich,
wæl-hwilum huþe lædan,
lyft-fæt leohtic, cistum gegierwed,
huþe to þam ham of þam here-siþe."

She actually sang it. She has such a beautiful singing voice, and it almost distracted me from the meaning of the words. I thought back. "'I saw a strange—thing?'"

Luna smiled and took pity on my imperfect grasp of Old Equuish. She didn't sing as she translated, which was a pity.

"I saw a creature, a curious thing,
a warrior pony bringing booty,
a shining sky-vessel artfully arrayed,
booty home from that journey of war."

"'Booty'? Really?"

"Huþe is treasure or riches won in battle, what better way for it to be said?"

"Okay… But wæl isn't battle or war, it's more like slaughter, isn't it? Wæl-hwilum should be 'slaughter-pony.'"

Luna shrugged. "A battle decisively won can be truly named so, can it not?"

"You're just trying to make me feel better, aren't you?"

Luna rolled her eyes at me. "Indeed, as thy friends have discovered, thou art not afflicted with idiocy, Twilight Sparkle!"

That made me pause for a moment. I sighed. "You might change your mind when you hear my plan."

= = =

=

Author's Note

It was a nice dinner.

It really was a very nice candelabra.

Incidentally, according to medieval legend, griffins' favorite meat was horse, and they would attack armored knights to get it.

= = =

Bits were cribbed from the Exeter Book Riddles to cobble together Luna's prophecy. Huþe really is most often translated as "booty." Wæl-hwilum is technically "slaughter-horse", but there isn't a single word in OE for "pony," and I had to avoid using "small" or "little" to avoid breaking the rhythm.

21 Running the Reef

Chapter Twenty One - Running the Reef

"I'm going to put you in command of Nebula," I said.

Applejack just stared at me.

"I have to sneak into Klugetown, and Nebula's just too noticeable, and a bigger ship will be harder to get through the reef."

"You're kiddin', right? Me? In charge? What about Ao? She's First Mate. She oughtta—"

I vigorously shook my head. "If Nebula was going into battle, Ao might be the better choice, but once Rarity and Pinkie wrap up the treaty stuff with the High Song, I need the ship to get to the Crystal Empire as quickly and safely as possible. That third Stormguard fleet is headed north, and we need every resource up there to be ready to counter it. I may be delayed several days, I just don't know for sure. Nebula needs a steady and sensible captain, and you're the right pony for the job. Plus, you're probably the only one that Dash would take orders from."

"I dunno…"

"Look, what's the worst that could happen?"

"Darn it, Twi! Don't you go puttin' a hex on us!"

"No AJ, I'm really asking! What is the worst thing you can imagine happening? Getting attacked by a fully grown dragon, maybe?"

"Uh… Yeah, outside o' some awful black magic, that'd be pretty much the worst."

"So, if that happened, what would you do? Seriously, I want to know!"

AJ thought about it for a second. "Well, I'd probably send Spike out to talk with the critter. Try to figure out what got it riled up and maybe calm it down."

"And if that didn't work? If the dragon was determined to attack the ship?"

AJ actually laughed. "I'd point Rainbow Dash at it, and let her go to town! A couple o' rainbooms'd distract the thing and give us time to get up high where dragons can't fly."

"There! That's a great plan." I told her. "You'll do just fine! Besides, Captain Calvados has a nice ring to it, doesn't it?"

She opened her mouth, then closed it again and sighed, shaking her head. "Okay, Twi, you win. I reckon I've got the best crew flyin' to back me up, don't I?"

I hugged her. "None better! Ket will be coming with me, but Sherbet will fill in for her as officer of the watch."

"So when are ya goin'?"

"Early tomorrow morning if everything goes smoothly. I need to get some things organized first, and Ralf is doing some metalwork for me, so I'll have to wait until that's finished. Oh! That reminds me, I'd better go below for a fitting!"

= = =

The rest of the day went by quickly.

Wepaten returned to the High Song on his beautiful bejeweled ornithopter, and Rarity and Pinkie Pie followed after on a little merchant ship named Dandelion, hauling our trade cargo from Twilight Town. Ket assured me that the Anubian commander's mood, though a welter of various feelings, was predominantly upbeat and hopeful. Quite the turnaround. It's good to have friends with strengths that balance one's weaknesses.

Dandelion's owner hadn't been too happy when her airship had been commandeered for the relief mission, but a promissory note from the Royal Treasury had sweetened her mood. Another note, signed by Princess Luna herself had made her positively eager to fly off to mysterious foreign lands. It's also good to have friends that happen to have a key to the Royal Equestrian Treasury.

Bookmark was taken on deck and readied for my hare-brained scheme. Ket fussed with the supplies, packing, unpacking, and repacking them to make sure everything was perfect. She replaced the sandbag ballast with netted jugs of drinking water, wrapped the fin gimbals in oiled linen to help keep out airborn grit and dust, and fitted lanyards to anything that couldn't be lashed down.

I told her that I would be adding a bag of specialized metal items that Ralf was finishing up, and when I had given her the approximate size and weight, she made a place for it.

"I have a bit of netting here that can be used to lash it down, Captain. We can pour out a bit of ballast or let a little more lift gas into the gasbag to get our buoyancy right."

"Great, Ket! He might not finish them until late. There's some tricky fitting to be done."

"I should be able to stow them properly and adjust Bookmark's buoyancy very quickly. I will want to check that just before we depart to adjust for the air temperature, in any case."

"Then you might want to get some sleep now. I'll have Ensign Shrrbrgrth take your watch."

She thanked me and went below.

Next, I took Tempest down to the guest cabin to explain my plan to her. When I'd finished she stared at me like I was crazy. "Do you have any idea how many deadly magical weapons the King has stolen? He will have most of them on his flagship and at least a dozen right where he can grab them!"

"I know."

"So, maybe we can get to him, but there's no way we're going to get out alive! You can't teleport us out; he's got these weird metal cones that—"

"Probably vortex disruptors," I said. "There are ways to disable them, but hopefully we won't need to."

She glared at me. "Look, you have no idea how murderous and capricious he is! He might kill us outright as soon as—"

"I'm betting his greed will outweigh his brutality for just long enough. After all, I've got something he wants very badly." I reached up and tapped my horn.

"Can't you just drop another—"

"No!" I shouldn't have shouted. I was trying to be calm, confident, and reassuring, but I had some new and very raw feelings about overwhelming and indiscriminate force as a solution to anything.

Tempest jerked back and gave me a doubtful look.

I frowned in annoyance at myself. "Sorry, but no. That option is off the table, even if the fleet isn't moored at Klugetown."

Tempest gave a little snort of a laugh. "You haven't seen the place. It really wouldn't be much of a loss." She studied my face for a second and then said, "Just joking."

"Sure."

She thought for a moment and then shrugged. "Well, it's not the worst plan I've ever heard. I'm in."

"Good! There's one more thing." I lit my horn and engaged the complex lock that sealed the hidden compartment below the deck. There were several sharp metallic clicks and three planks swiveled upward. I lifted the iron bound chest out and set it on the bunk.

Tempest watched me closely. "Got some weapons of your own, then?"

"Yes," I said as I opened the chest. "But Ms. Khaatarrekket has already stowed those aboard Bookmark. This is just—information, I guess."

She frowned in puzzlement and stepped closer.

I levitated the crystal out of its little sandalwood box and floated it over to Tempest. "Hold still," I told her, and lined up the gem with the stub of her horn. "Yes, it's the perfect size and shape for a core."

I put it back in its box and then stepped aside to let Tempest look into the chest. Her mouth fell open when she saw the rows of neatly stacked little ingots of pure orichalcum.

"You were right about the hidey-hole in the stern hold of the frigate. I'm beginning to think that every ship must have one in about the same place," I said, waving a hoof at Nebula's version. "I didn't expect this, but it makes things a lot easier for the both of us."

Tempest's rump hit the deck with a solid thump. "It… You mean…?"

"I keep my promises, Tempest. You will get your new horn." I paused and added (perhaps unwisely), "Provided we survive the next couple of days."

= = =

That evening Luna and I dined aboard Javelin[1] with Captain Quicksilver and his officers. I was honestly relieved that the food was plain and hearty, and the meal was served on ordinary silver and porcelain. The claret was very good, and we toasted the health of Equestria, Celestia, Cadance,—and ourselves, of course.

[1] To be technically correct, I ought to refer to her as THAS Javelin, meaning "Their Highness's Air Ship Javelin," But that's only really used in official documents. I use those sorts of prefixes in AS Nebula's logbook, such as when I noted the arrival of HDH Luna of Equestria, but this is a narrative, so I feel justified in leaving them out of the text.

The relief supplies had been completely offloaded, and the merchant airships (except for Dandelion) would be heading back north in the morning. Javelin would remain at Seaward Shoals as a reassuring presence for the ponies of the town . The revenue cutter wouldn't be much use if the Storm King's warships returned, but that wasn't likely. Not if I had anything to say about it.

We returned to Nebula and we went down to the guest cabin to turn in for the night. It was just big enough for both of us.

Luna tried once again to convince me to take her with me to Klugetown. "Thou knowest well that I am an accomplished shapeshifter, and any mote of shadow can conceal me completely."

"I can't risk it. The King may have magical ways of detecting shadow-walking or shapeshifting. I know how powerful you are, but a hit from one of those dark alchemical spheres and I could lose you!"

"And yet thou wilt expose thyself to the same danger!"

I sighed. "It's the best chance I can see to stop him."

Luna shook her head angrily. "The risk is too great. I cannot lose thee, Twilight! I would die—or go mad. I... No, I will strike him down myself! I will call upon the stars to smite that vile—"

I shoved her up against the bulkhead and made sure she was looking directly into my face. "No! You can't make the same mistake I did! Are you a warrior or a butcher? As a proud, powerful warrior, I love you with all my heart. If you were a butcher…" I let her go and looked away from her.

She remained absolutely still and silent for a long while.

When I looked back, her mane was a pool of absolute blackness and the pupils of her eyes were slitted like a dragon's. "I would slaughter the world to save thee."

I froze, horrified.

Luna blinked and her eyes returned to normal as the stars reappeared in her mane. "But I would not knowingly tread upon an ant if it would rob thee of the least joy."

I threw my forelegs around her neck and held her tightly. "I will be back soon."

"Swear it," she whispered in my ear.

I couldn't lie to her, so I didn't.

= = =

We were up and on deck before dawn. Ralf checked the fit and action of his work one more time and then carefully wrapped it all in burlap and gave it over to Ket to stow aboard.

Everyone but the Morning Watch should have been asleep, but it seemed like most of the crew were on deck to wish us well and see us off.

Ket and Tempest got aboard and tied on their safety lines. I stood at Bookmark's gunnel and faced Applejack. "Captain Calvados, you have command of Nebula. Take good care of her."

"You know I will, Captain Blackmane. Go lightly."

I got aboard and tied myself in.

The Nebulas formed two lines and saluted as Ao, Halter Hitch, and Zephirine gave us a good telekinetic shove out over the leeward rail. Luna watched silently from the quarterdeck.

Ket switched on the power and the little fins buzzed, pushing us toward the Conundrum badlands.

We entered the big canyon near the High Song about an hour later as the sky was turning a pale gray in the east. The air between the canyon walls was still and cool, making our flight smooth and easy.

After a half hour, when it was light enough to clearly see the bottom of the canyon, I felt a swirl of air against my left cheek. I looked over the gunnel and saw a few little dust devils[2] dancing along the dry sandy watercourse below. We were nearing the entrance to the reef.

[2] Dust devils are very small vortices of air like tiny tornadoes. Pegasus foals who have a talent for wind work will often create them for fun. In Cloudsdale, they're known as "swirlies," and the difference in names is understandable as there's a distinct lack of dust in cloud cities.

I looked down at the woven wind chart, which I had tied to the thwart with some strong waxed sail thread. "We should see three irregular spires of rock around this next bend. Come left into the side canyon and leave the spires well to starboard. Keep a good grip on the tiller; there will be a vicious cross wind from our larboard side."

Ket repeated all that back to me, and five minutes later we were running the Katabatic Reef and hanging on for our lives.

It might have been easier on us if I had been born a pegasus, with a natural feel for air pressure, flow, and currents. As it was, with my wings outspread and straining to discern slight differences in the chaotic winds, I only just barely managed to feel out the changes marked on the chart that enabled us to dodge the worst of the violent downslope winds.

We still had a couple of uncomfortably close calls, dropping several hundred feet in an instant toward the rocks below us on one occasion, and actually scraping Bookmark's envelope against an overhanging cliff on another. If the wind-worn sandstone had been jagged granite, she would have been "gutted," as the old sky-hooves say, and that would have been the end of our journey.

It took us nearly half the day to work our way through that nightmarish labyrinth of twisting canyons and brutal winds, and by the time we had gotten through, we were all exhausted. Poor Tempest had the worst of it, I'm afraid. Not having wing magic, she was violently airsick for most of the journey. She had fortunately taken my advice to avoid eating anything before we set out, but she was badly dehydrated by the time we staked Bookmark down in a narrow little side channel of the main canyon where the wind was minimal.

After I had stretched a sand-colored tarp over Bookmark to make her difficult to see from the air, I passed Tempest a ballast jug and uncorked it for her. "I know you're terribly thirsty, but just take a few little sips and then wait for a minute or two before you take more, or you may bring it all back up."

She took the jug from me. "Right." She didn't nod, which was smart of her.

By the chart, we were just a league or so short of where the delta-like channels of the canyon's end spread out and dropped beneath the sand near Klugetown. The sun was getting low.

"Ket, will you feel up to a scouting trip after sunset? If you can sus out the Stormguard's position, Tempest will be able to advise us on the best way to approach them."

"Will do, Captain," she replied. "Are you planning on going in tonight?"

"That will depend entirely on how they're set up and what Tempest recommends."

I checked over Bookmark while there was still good light to do so. She had enchanted patches of cloth inside her gasbag that would automatically seal little tears and holes up to about a hoofspan across. They were brightly colored to make damage assessment easier, and I spotted three red spots on scraped areas of the fabric. I stuck patches of silk over on top to reinforce them until we could get proper repairs done.

To my surprise, I found several dings and scrapes on her hull as well. "I don't remember hitting anything but that cliff," I remarked to Ket.

"You were concentrating pretty hard there, Captain," she replied. "Couple little bumps weren't much to remark on."

I smiled. "You're a damned fine pilot, Ket. Feel like some food?"

Ket smiled at me. "That was a tasty morsel, right there, Captain, but I could do with a bit to chew on as well."

I looked over at Tempest, who grimaced and waved me away.

We had a quick meal of brick-hard ship's biscuits washed down with some ballast, then Ket prepared to go scouting. She spun her changeling magic around herself in a pulse of green light and emerged as a tiny desert fox, perfectly suited to the desert environment. I grinned at the novelty of a cute little fennec giving me a sharp and proper salute before she scampered away into the night.

I watched the stars move through the sky for an hour or so before nudging Tempest. "How are you feeling? Do you think you'll be able to stand watch for an hour or so? I need to talk with Luna."

"Yes, I'm feeling better. In fact, let me have one of those biscuits."

I floated one over to her. "I should be out for an hour or so. Give me a shake after two, or if anything else happens."

She nodded. "Got it."

I lay down on the sand and did a calming breathing exercise for a few minutes and then cast a soporific spell on myself, pushing my mind down through light sleep into dreamspace.

= = =

I woke up with Tempest nudging my shoulder. "Ms. Ket's back."

I sat up, a silly grin on my face, and stretched. "What did you find out, Ket?"

"Let me have your notebook and a pencil, and I will draw you a map, Captain."

I passed the items over and Ket turned to the first blank page and began to scribble. "This is the town. Looks like jetsam washed up on a stony shore. Big rock spires like we saw in the Reef, but all covered with pilings and shacks with slag heaps underneath. Lotta mining going on. The King's fleet is moored here on the northwest edge of the town, in this formation." She drew out the ships and their mooring lines, as well as an irregular dotted line around the whole thing.

Tempest pointed a hoof at the line. "Sentries. A picket line, right?"

Ket nodded. "In groups of three, with bright oil lanterns on poles, pointed outward. They really don't want anyone sneaking up on them. Topside watches on all the ships, too. And out here—" She drew a number of little circles in a rough fan shape to the northwest of the fleet. "—catapult emplacements. Damned big ones, too. They've tried to hide them by putting them near old airship wrecks, so they're not part of any regular defenses. "

Tempest chuckled. "Well Captain, congratulations on spooking the roadapples out of the Stormguard. This formation is purely defensive. Those catapults are to ambush anyone chasing them here from the High Song. The ships… That'll be the flagship in the middle, with the other three surrounding it. I'm betting they will be moving on just as soon as they can get refueled."

"That checks out, Captain," Ket said. "They've got a couple of big transfer lines rigged to the nearest spire. Looked like pumps up there, but I didn't get that close."

I nodded and ran through several scenarios in my head. "Okay, we wait until after sunrise. I have a feeling that if we go in tonight, the yeti guards may blast away before they get a good look at us." I reached out with my magesight and touched the Wheel of the Moon. "We've got five hours until moonset. You two get some sleep and I'll keep watch."

Tempest stretched out on the sand and put her head down on her forelegs. "Can you hit me with some of that sleep magic? There's no way I'll drop off otherwise."

I gave her a bit of my Mom's special night-before-finals recipe, and she sighed and closed her eyes.

Ket didn't need any help. She resumed her fennec disguise and curled up nose-to-tail in a little wind-eroded hollow above Bookmark. They say a good aeronaut can sleep anywhere and anytime. Accounting for my Third's special ability, I would add anyhow to that.

I had the utmost confidence in my plan, so I paced and fretted until the sky began to lighten in the east.

= = =

=

Author's Note

22 Plan B

Chapter Twenty Two - Plan B

I wanted to go over the plan one more time, but both Tempest and Ket groaned when I suggested it. They knew it backwards and forwards, they insisted. There was nothing left to do but go at it.

I stowed away my disguise amulet in the chest that held all of Captain Blackmane's possessions and Ket fitted the sheath on me while Tempest pulled the iron hobbles and wing band out of the burlap bag and locked them in place. Then Ket took the Grade One suppressor ring out of its box and carefully fastened it on. I felt terribly vulnerable without my blades, greatcoat, and the dozen or so other useful items that I usually kept hidden in various places about my person, to say nothing about not being able to use my magic.

Ket added the final touch by buckling a halter made of light steel chain onto my head, and passing the lead line to Tempest. "Good luck, you two," she said, and leaped into the sky in the form of a kestrel.

Tempest and I traded a look and began trudging toward Kludgetown.

Because the hobbles only allowed me to take short, shuffling steps, It took us well over an hour to get out of the last rocky bits of the channel and onto the sand flats. I think the sentries would have spotted us pretty quickly after that, but Tempest sent up three bright flares of magic from her horn stub just to make sure.

Shortly thereafter, we were surrounded by a half dozen scowling and panting yeti soldiers. The biggest of them stepped forward and squinted down at us. "You're Commander Tempest, right?" he rumbled. "I thought you were dead."

"Nearly was," she replied tersely and jerked her head in my direction. "Canterlot was a disaster, but I managed to get away with one of them. I'll explain it all to the King."

"You would have been better off staying away. The King ain't too fond of ponies right now, you included."

There was a general growling agreement from the rest of the group, and one said, "Dogs, neither."

Tempest casually cow-kicked me in the ribs, and not gently. "This is their junior princess. There's a whole lot of magic in her. That ought to count for something."

The big one shrugged. "Dunno, don't care. I'm gonna hand you over to the lieutenant and let him figure it out."

They took us back to the mooring grounds. The yeti that had been given my lead chain walked so quickly that he pulled me off my hooves twice before he decided to pick me up and tuck me under one arm. If you've never been within a league of a yeti's sweaty armpit, consider yourself very fortunate.

The lieutenant at the sentry post was in full armor with a red stripe on his crest and tail tuft that I took for some sort of unit ID. He was dripping with sweat in the desert heat. He wasn't in a good mood. He made us wait in the sun while he sent a message to an officer higher up the food chain, asking for orders. He had five of his squad cover us with short spears while he rummaged in a box for something.

To pass the time, I calculated the best way to take on the squad without magic. If Tempest decided to help, we could probably take them out, but there were hundreds more troops close by with who knows what sort of long-range weaponry. Still, it was an engaging mental exercise.

Klugetown was interesting as well. There were rickety bridges and rusty aerial tram cables rigged between the rock spires as well as wrecked remnants of those sorts of things. While we were waiting, I saw a tram car split a seam and dump a good deal of what looked like coal into the town below. The tramline kept moving as if nothing had happened. There were quite a number of patchwork windmills on the spires, but the Klugetowners must have also been burning oil or coal for power judging by the dusty smog that hung in the air.

The lieutenant eventually found what he wanted, and walked back over to us. He held up what appeared to be a half-silvered mirror set in a brass frame, and carefully examined both of us through it. If my magic hadn't been suppressed, I assumed I would have detected some sort of scrying spell on the mirror. He came back to the ring around my horn and thoroughly checked it a second time. He even tugged on the ring to make sure it was firmly locked. I tensed up, but after a moment, he lowered the mirror and turned to Tempest.

"That's a damned beefy ring. You're not taking any chances with this one, are you?" he said to her.

"Not at all," she replied. "She's strong."

The lieutenant grunted. "Doesn't look like much."

"She threw a chunk of a marble pillar at me that was the size of an elephant."

"No kidding?"

"Not even a bit. I got very lucky or I wouldn't be here now."

"Hm… Well, I hope your luck holds, 'cause the King's in a black mood, and you're the one who he blames for losing the Northern Fleet."

Tempest looked up at the airships overhead. "This fleet seems to be a bit smaller than the last time I saw it."

The lieutenant's lips curled up, revealing a yellowed snaggle of fangs, but he didn't have a chance to retort before another squad arrived with a reply to his message.

"The King says to bring them up," the squad leader said. "But first…" He motioned to another of his squad who dumped a mass of rusted chains and hobbles on the ground and then held up another suppressor ring. "The King isn't in the mood for any more surprises, ex-Commander Tempest."

Tempest scowled, but then she shrugged and said, "Fine."

They hobbled her up and jammed the ring roughly onto the stub of her horn. Then they took us to a wooden platform resting on the ground directly below the flagship. It was attached by long cables to a winch in a ventral loading bay above. The squad leader ushered us onto the platform and waved a signal to the winch crew. They turned two big iron cranks on the winch and slowly hauled us up into the bay.

They didn't immediately let us off the platform, but had two more yetis go over us with other magical detection equipment while one of the winch crew stood by with a hand on what I assumed was a quick-release lever. One little false positive would have earned us a long drop to the desert below. They combed through our manes and tails, which gave me another tense moment, but they didn't notice anything out of the ordinary. They even peeled the bandage off of Tempest's leg, and threw it overboard.

I had hoped they would lead us into a wardroom or similar space for our interview with the Storm King, but we were taken to an iron-barred cell and shoved inside. The squad left without saying anything to us and dogged the hatchway behind them. The other three cells in the compartment were empty.

Tempest looked at me. "So…?"

I shrugged. "I guess we wait."

= = =

It was about an hour later when the big boss himself sauntered into the brig. He was carrying a long wooden staff that had a dull blue crystal set between the branches of the forked top. Four big yetis in full armor with short spears followed him in.

Tempest awkwardly clambered to her hooves and bowed. "Your Excellency, I have brought—"

"I'm not in the mood to listen to a loser," he said quietly, almost as if he were thinking aloud. He turned to his guards. "I'll drain that one—" He pointed at me. "—and then you can drag her down to the infirmary for Carcass to experiment on." His gaze flicked briefly to Tempest. "Kill the other one."

The King raised his staff as if he were about to strike me with the butt of it, and the guards leveled their spears and advanced on Tempest.

In another time, I might have hesitated. I might have tried to reason or plead with the Storm King and gotten myself and Tempest killed as a result. But then and there, I twisted both forehooves inward forty five degrees and slammed my hobbles together. The beautifully crafted hidden catches clicked and the cuffs sprang open.

The King, it seemed, was the sort to hesitate when surprised, and stared for nearly a second in confusion. I assume his puzzlement only increased as I lifted my forehooves to my horn and violently twisted the thin, painted metal sheath that covered it. The sheath spun off of my horn, taking with it the still firmly-locked suppressor ring.

Given another second or so, the King may have recovered his wits enough to use the staff on me, but I didn't give him the time. In the next second, he was no longer there, and that was because the deck he had been standing on was no longer there.

He and his guards had been wearing what I assumed was thaumoreactive armor, but the deck below them (and the two decks below that) had no such protection. One good blast burnt through all of them, and the minimal spatter didn't come anywhere near Tempest or me. The yetis screamed as they fell.

I slammed the door and welded it shut to guarantee that we wouldn't have to deal with any other yetis for a while .

"Hold very still!" I told Tempest. She froze and I sliced off her hobbles with a gravity blade spell. I needed a physical key to release the cams of her suppressor ring because the ring would negate any magical energy I tried to use on it, but fortunately I had a little something stuck under my left forehoof with a daub of dried clay. The yetis had been so worried about magical weapons that they had neglected to check for something as small and simple as a bent paperclip.

Sirens echoed through the ship by the time I'd gotten the ring off of her. I used another gravity blade to slice through the bars of our cell. We stepped forward to peer over the molten edge of the hole I'd burned through the decks and saw the broken bodies of the Storm King and his guards far below amid a tangle of smoldering wreckage.

"Huh," I said. "That was surprisingly easy."

"I can't believe it." Tempest said.

I levitated three pieces of cut bars over the hole and poured energy into them. They streaked downward, punching through the King's body with a weird combination of metallic screeches and meaty thuds.

"Believe it," I said. "Now, give me a second to estimate how much energy I've got left. I want to make sure I'll have enough to teleport us back to Bookmark."

"You can't teleport us!" Tempest objected, and pointed to the stubby little cone shapes that were fixed to the bulkheads.

"Well, not from here, obviously! Hang on a second, I want to get this right so that the crew will have time to evacuate." I turned and aimed my horn in the direction where the fuel bunkers would be. If the diagrams that Tempest had drawn for me were accurate, one shot should do it. "Close your eyes; this is going to be bright," I told her.

I had to balance the size and energy of my starfire bolt so that it would burn through an exact number of interior partitions without dissipating on the way through. I kicked off the spell and, when the flash had died away, I considered the small hole in the bulkhead next to the door. "That's about right, I think. We'll know if we feel a—"

There was a muffled distant rumble and the deck (what was left of it) vibrated under our hooves.

"Oops! Time to go!" I pointed at the hole in the deck.

Tempest knitted her brows. "What?"

"Jump!" I told her.

"What? In case you forgot, I can't fly!"

The deck was shaking harder than ever and the ugly noises from the other side of the door were getting louder, so I didn't waste time explaining. I rammed into Tempest, shoving her over the edge of the hole and wrapping my hooves around her neck as we fell.

We popped back into existence standing on the sandy floor of the channel next to Bookmark, all relative inertia nicely canceled. I let go of Tempest's neck and stepped back. "No vortex disruptors in mid air," I explained.

"You… You insane nag! Why didn't you—"

"Oh come on! Admit it; that was fun!" I gave her a light punch on the shoulder.

She stared at me, wild-eyed, for a second and then threw up on the sand.

"Oh." I took a couple of steps back. "Yeah, that happens a lot with first-time teleports. You'll be fine."

She gave me one of the most glorious stink-eyes it has ever been my pleasure to receive. I think the scar helped sell it.

Before matters could deteriorate further, my horn fairly jittered from the waves of ragged magical energy streaming outward from the direction of Klugetown. From the look on Tempest's face, even she felt it.

"Wow," I said, turning to face the town as the ground under my hooves began to tremble. "He must have had quite a collection of interesting items aboard."

We watched as a roiling mass of multi-colored fire rose into the sky. I could swear I saw a huge screaming skull in the cloud for a second, but it could have been ordinary pareidolia. The rumbling sound of the explosion reached us a few seconds later.

Tempest went and grabbed a ballast jug while I watched the flames turn into a greasy-looking column of smoke. She rinsed her mouth out a couple of times, drank most of the rest of the water, and then thumped down on the sand in the shadow of the tarp.

Just then, a big, turbulent bulb of more natural-looking flame rose up into view, and a moment after that, I heard the deep bass rumble of a rather large explosion. More magical cargo going up? Possibly, but I hadn't felt any major thaumic disturbances. Maybe Ket would know.

I grabbed my personal things out of the chest in Bookmark, put them on, and then pulled out the medical kit.

When I went to put a fresh bandage around Tempest's leg, she gave me an odd look. "It's okay, Twilight. It's almost healed."

I smeared some antiseptic gel over the scab and wrapped gauze around her pastern anyway.. "Yes, it looks fine, but this'll keep the sand out, at least. Neat little stitches, by the way; Rarity would approve."

Tempest chuckled. "Hands are good for a lot of things."

"How is Grubber holding up? He hasn't said a word to me since… Well…" I didn't want to say it outright, so I didn't.

"Still working through it all, I think," she said. "The news about this—" She jerked her muzzle toward the columns of smoke to the East. "—is going to affect him, I'm sure, but he's the sort who wants to be safely in the shadow of the biggest Big Bad around, and that's you now. I doubt he'll be any trouble."

That wasn't exactly what I had been concerned about, and it was a bit disturbing to hear her phrase it that way. I put away the med kit, found my own patch of shade, and settled in to wait for Ket to return.

I ate another couple of biscuits while I waited. I offered one to Tempest, but she laughed. "There are plenty of rocks[1] over here, thanks."

[1] Ship's biscuits are hard, but not that bad. The trick is to break off a chunk with the edge of your hoof and then hold it in your mouth for a while to let your saliva soften it a bit before trying to chew. They are sometimes jokingly referred to as "weevil's wedding cakes," but it was rare to find bugs in them, except on very long voyages.

Eventually, a little kestrel glided in for a landing and unfolded into the form of my Third Mate.

"Heya, Ket! See anything interesting?"

She grinned at me. "Interesting? I would say, 'battleships exploding,' but this is the second time in two weeks, and it's starting to get boring."

"Plural battleships? I thought I only set fire to one of them."

Tempest walked over to join us. "You didn't see anyone removing the Storm King's body, did you? He was dead for sure, but with all the magical items he had collected, maybe…"

Ket actually laughed. "Oh, there were plenty of yetis rappelling down from the flagship, but they were all running away from the burning hulk that fell on him! Can't resurrect ashes as far as I know."

"But what about the second ship?" I asked.

"That was the one that was refueling. Her captain must have panicked. After the flagship lit up, the other's engines spun up to full ahead, and she tore away from the pumping station without disconnecting the fuel line first. Some of the burning debris from the flagship touched off the line that was still hanging from her side and spewing fuel. Acted as a sort of wick, and…" She shrugged.

Both Tempest and I winced. Yes, it had been an enemy airship, but we weren't entirely without empathy.

"That was the second explosion I saw," I said.

Ket nodded. "Her bunkers must have been half empty, so there were a lot of fumes. It… Well, at least it was quick. The explosion lit up the fuel depot, too."

"Wæl-hwilum," I muttered under my breath.

"I beg your pardon, Captain?"

I shook my head. "It's nothing. What about the other two ships?" I asked.

"They pulled up stakes and ran. Headed southwest by west as fast as they could go. Left a lot of yetis on the rocks."

"Probably heading for home," Tempest said. "Nothing much in that direction but the frozen, rocky island where they came from. Are we going to go after them?"

I gave it a good moment of consideration. I didn't want to be hasty after all, and the mental image of us in a tiny gig, flapping flat-out to catch up with two big battleships was pretty amusing. "No, I doubt they will bother us again. The Eastern Fleet still needs to be dealt with, and I want to make sure that the yetis left behind here don't sack the town or something like that."

Tempest laughed at that. "Ms. Ket, did you notice what the Stormguard left behind were doing?"

Ket cocked her head. "Quite a few ran to grab onto the droplines and mooring cables of the remaining two ships before they picked up speed, but the rest… The ones I noticed were actually running away from the town."

Tempest nodded. "The King and his people weren't very popular in Klugetown. There's a couple of gang bosses that made a lot of money by collaborating, but the rest of the mixed bag would be more than happy to get a squad of Stormguard down a narrow alley for a little pay-back." She didn't have a knife on her, but the motion she made with a crooked pastern made it perfectly clear what sort of pay-back she was talking about.

"Okay then. I guess I'll have to sample the delightful culture of Klugetown some other time," I said. "Let's get a good meal inside of us and then head back to Seaward Shoals. We don't have to worry about encountering any battleships, so we can fly above the Reef. If we run into a Stormguard cutter or picket ship that hasn't heard the war's over I'm sure I can deal with it. I'm really tired and low on energy, but we have some useful items aboard… Right, Ket?

She nodded. "The usual nasty assortment."

"Good. Y'know, I'm starving. You packed a tub of sesame-rye hash too, didn't you?"

"Aye, Captain! It goes right well on a ship's biscuit!"

Tempest groaned.

We were just finishing up our hurried meal[2] when Ket sat up straight and turned toward the east.

[2] Tempest admitted that, although the sour, glutenous hash might have been inedible by itself, when piled on top of a biscuit and allowed to soak in and thereby soften the biscuit and moderate the taste of the hash a bit, the combination was merely unpleasant. But it was also energy-dense, and that was what I needed at the moment.

"I hear something, Captain," Ket said.

I turned and swiveled my ears. It took a moment, but I caught the low drone that echoed down the main canyon. "Ornithopter," I said.

Ket nodded. "I'll go up and take a look." She took kestrel form again and streaked away.

I shoved a couple of boulders into the middle of our little side canyon to make us less noticeable, but I needn't have bothered. Almost immediately, Ket flew back, leading one of the High Song's bejeweled flying machines right to us.

Rarity was piloting it.

She plowed into the sand and one of the landing skids bent, putting a still-moving wing into the dirt, which kicked up an enormous amount of dust. That mare certainly knows how to make an entrance, in almost any circumstances.

"Oh, fiddlesticks!" she said as she hopped out of the ornithopter and wobbled a bit on her hooves. "I'm so sorry about the inelegant landing, dear! The passage through the Reef was horrendous! Pati is going to be very cross with me, for scuffing his little flier!"

"'Pati'?"

"Wepaten, dear! He loaned me this craft and a map of the Reef so that I could catch up with you!"

Honestly, I was speechless. Thankfully Tempest took up the slack.

"Well, if you came all this way just to join us for lunch, you're in luck; we're all out of hash."

"No time! I came to help you with the Storm King, and—"

"He's dead," Tempest said. "It's all over."

"Oh? Well, that's nice." Rarity floated a scroll out of her flying jacket. "Then we can get on to another, evidently important, matter."

I took the scroll out of her field and looked at it. It bore my name, the words "EXTREMELY URGENT!" and Cadance's royal seal.

"I'm told Spike brought it up at the breakfast table," Rarity informed me. "Unpleasant timing, but it wasn't the poor dear's fault."

I broke the seal and unrolled the scroll.

Twilight,

Come to the Empire quickly! He's almost here, and it will be terrible if he isn't stopped. Celestia can't send ships or they will be destroyed. I've seen it.

-C

I wasn't aware I had spoken, but Rarity's shocked, "Language, darling!" and Tempest's merry laugh convinced me that I had.

"That'll be one bit in the swear jar when we get back aboard Nebula, Captain," Ket said calmly. "Which, never fear, I will remind you."

= = =

=

Author's Note

"...huge screaming skull in the cloud…"

The day after I typed that line, I saw this on Bluesky:

Pareidolia, it's not!

Manifest your imaginings, folks!

23 Klugetown Cleanup

Chapter Twenty Three - Klugetown Cleanup

"But he's dead!" Tempest protested when I'd shown the letter to the rest of the crew. "Twilight dropped him a cable's length to the hardpan and then impaled him with iron bars!"

"Not to mention burying him under a flaming airship," Ket added.

Rarity gave me a considering look. "Sounds thorough enough to me."

"Came at breakfast, you say?" Ket asked Rarity who nodded. "And what would you estimate the travel time from up north for this message would be, Captain?"

I saw where she was going immediately. "Most of a day at least, which means Cadance wrote it well before I killed the King."

"Crossed messages, d'you think?"

"I… I don't know. If visions behaved in any sort of sane way, I might have a hope of figuring this out. As it is…" I chewed at my lower lip for a second, thinking. "No, it might be the Eastern Fleet commander she's confusing for the King himself, or…" I paused again.

"May I make a suggestion, dear?"

"Of course!'

"The other fleet still needs to be dealt with, so we have to hurry north in any case, but it would be wise to confirm that the Storm King is truly dead, wouldn't it? An hour or so isn't much time to lose, and it would give everypony some peace of mind. After all, there are some ponies who could survive that sort of treatment."

I nodded. "You're right. Positive proof right under my hooves is the best thing to have in this situation. We'll go make sure he's dead as quickly as possible, and then hothoof it north for the Empire."

I lifted up the ornithopter and took a close look at the damage. "Is there a piece of crystal on the sand over there?" I asked Rarity. "The failsafe spell won't work if there are any parts missing."

She found the little bit of crystal that had been a piece of infill between the veins of the stylized dragonfly wing and floated it over to me. I put it in place and had the little machine back in pristine condition very quickly.

Ket and Tempest removed the tarp covering Bookmark's envelope, stowed it away, and we were all in the air a minute later.

Klugetown looked awful. Not that it would have been pleasant-looking under any conceivable circumstances, but with greasy smoke from burning wreckage swirling around the rock spires, and the sandstone pillar that had served as a fuel depot mostly engulfed in flames as well, it certainly wouldn't make anypony's top ten tourist destinations list.

There were quite a few grungy-looking airships standing off from the town, and several groups of interesting-looking creatures milling around, watching the fires burn themselves out.

We landed as close to the flagship as seemed safe. I hopped out and peered at the twisted and charred metal frame. "I think that's the place," I said, pointing. "I'll see if I can't roll the wreckage off of—"

"Well, well, well, whatta we got here?" came a guttural voice from my right.

I turned to see a rather large creature that looked like an oversized, bipedal catfish approaching.

"Cute little ponies playin' dress-up!" squawked the wingless bird creature beside him. "Who are you supposed to be? The fearsome pirate Blackmane?"

Rarity and I exchanged glances. "Why does everyone around here know who I am?" I grumbled at her.

The approaching pair, and the ugly mob behind them, overheard me and several creatures laughed.

"Don't be scared, little ponies!" Fish Guy said. "We just wanna get a nice close look at those pretty costumes o' yours!"

"Yeah," Parrot Face added. "Maybe we—"

I think Rarity and I noticed the patches on the gray coveralls that Parrot Face wore at the same time. We weren't going to let the thugs get much closer in any case, but seeing the Storm King's insignia made our response a little less measured than it might have been.

"Nebulas, at them!" I yelled.

Rarity's needles hissed out of their sheaths and whipped in gleaming arcs toward Parrot Face. Tempest charged, spun, and drove both hind hooves into Fish Guy's substantial gut. I used my twin short swords to cut through the handle of a huge pickaxe wielded by a lizard-like creature in two places and then I drove their pommels into the back of his skull as he tried, stupidly and futilely, to catch the pieces of his weapon. The lumbering, hairy hulk that had tried to flank us, screamed and floundered backwards away from the writhing horror that Ket had turned into.

Lizard Thing hit the ground, his eyes rolled up in his head and his long tongue flopping out on the sand. Fish Guy lay on his back, gasping like… Well—like a fish out of water. Everyone else had frozen in place, particularly Parrot Face, who was obviously amazed that he was still all in one piece. The same could not be said of his coveralls, which slumped around his feet in neatly sliced ribbons.

Rarity fanned four of her blades out behind her head, making sure that the mirror-bright metal reflected shafts of sunlight across the eyes of the mob. The fifth blade, she held up high with a pierced Stormguard patch on the point. "This is unacceptable," she said. With a showy moulinet,[1]she flung the patch so that it slapped Parrot Face on the chest. It fell to the ground, and he made no effort to retrieve it.

[1] A circular motion of the blade, rarely used in actual fighting because it is relatively slow. It sure looks impressive, though.

"Captain!" Parrot Face screamed.

"What? I'm right here! You don't need to yell!" I was beginning to think that the mentality of the denizens of Klugetown was as disordered as the town's physical appearance. All put together, I suspected Discord might have visited the place in his pre-statuary days, and things had gone downhill from there.

"Uh… No… Beggin' yer pardon, ma'am, I meant my captain," the bird explained.

I was about to ask him to clarify that when I noticed a figure pushing through the stunned and staring crowd. Another flightless bird, she wore a loose muslin shirt and plain sailcloth pants. But she also wore a big gold hoop earring and her right leg ended in a peg made of green crystal.

Parrot Face pointed at me as she came up and stood by him. "It's Blackmane! I think it's really her!"

Peg Leg cocked her head and said, "Anybody can wear a red greatcoat and carry a pair of overgrown paring knives."

"Look!" Parrot Face pointed down at his shredded coveralls and then at Rarity. "She did that! That's Silver Mask, that is!"

Peg Leg looked at Rarity who swirled her bright needles around her like a Cloudsdale ribbon dancer. "Believe it, dear. You're far too pretty to die in this horrible place."

I saw Peg Leg's hand move slightly toward her hip, right where the hilt of a cutlass would hang, if she'd been wearing one. Then she relaxed a bit and said, "I thought you'd be taller."

Some idiot in the crowd said, "Let's rush 'em! They can't get us all!" He was, of course, near the rear of the mob.

More birds moved up behind Peg Leg, and they were armed. Some of them were carrying extra swords. One of them held out a cutlass for their leader.

"Oh well," I shrugged. "If we must…"

The creatures at the front of the crowd suddenly gasped and looked past me, their mouths dropping open in shock. I spun and saw, not another enemy, but the burning fuel spire, beginning to topple. It was falling towards the rest of the town, and if the impact didn't do it, the burning oil tanks would certainly take out half of Klugetown.

I acted instinctively. I could levitate several tons, but the enormous stone spire was far beyond my ability even when I wasn't nearly depleted, so I resorted to something very dangerous. Geomancy is not only a restricted field of magic in Equestria, but every book on the subject that a pony might stumble across is deliberately misleading with the intention of making the dangerous magic impossible to wield. I had found out the truth of the matter in a very direct and unpleasant way,[2] but that meant that I actually knew how to channel that forbidden type of magic.

[2] See The Luna Cypher.

I shoved my hooves deep into the sand and touched the Wheel of the World. With the lightest brush of my magic, I drew on a tiny fraction of the power of that terrifying magical construct to raise a block of stone beneath the tilting spire in order to guide it away from the town. The slow, but inexorable power of the Wheel wrenched painfully at me as it flowed through my pitiful little conduit an instant before I broke contact, but I knew I had succeeded.

Because I am also a pony who doesn't want to let a good opportunity go to waste, I fired off a little starfire bolt at the base of the spire. The onlookers would have no clue that I'd used the borrowed power of geomancy to shove the rock tower away from their town, but a little flash and pop made it look like I'd deflected megatons of stone with my horn alone.

The spire hit the open desert with a bone-shaking crash and raised a huge cloud of dust and smoke. Fortunately, we were upwind from the impact.

I turned back to the crowd. "Now… Where were we?"

Most of them decided that they needed to be elsewhere in a frantic hurry, but the birds stuck around.

Peg Leg looked me in the eye. "Captain Blackmane."

It wasn't a question, but I nodded anyway. "And you are?"

"Captain Celaeno, Scourge of the Sea of Clouds." She waved a claw at the other birds behind her. "My crew."

Oh yes, a fellow pirate, and no mistake. I lifted the little patch at her feet… I mean foot, and said, "But your bird was wearing this."

She raised her crystal peg leg and swept the patch out of my field, stabbing it down into the sand. "It's a fool of a bird who doesn't run before a killer storm, but now that he's dead… He is dead, isn't he?"

"I did my best, and we're here to make sure that I succeeded."

"It would be good to know for sure," she said and then started a bit when she glanced over at Bookmark. "Is… Does that thing belong to you?"

I spared a glance myself and saw Ket curled protectively around both craft, long black tentacles and saw-toothed stingers coiled and swaying. "My Third Officer," I told Celaeno.

Her beak clicked shut and after a moment, she dragged her gaze away. "If you say so, Captain."

"Best Third flying," I told her.

There was a slight sound of protest from one of the birds behind her, but we both ignored it.

"You'll have to excuse me, Captain, but I'm on a tight schedule," I told her, turning toward the wreck of the flagship. The detonation of the magical weapons aboard had evidently had a serious effect on the vessel because the steel skeleton of the airship tore and crumbled when I touched it. I switched from levitation to a wedge-shaped shield to scrape the wreckage away. It took a lot more energy, but I still had storage crystals literally up my sleeves. I got it done fairly quickly.

"There he is," I said, recognising a uniquely shaped antler poking up from the debris. I tugged, and most of the Storm King's head lifted up into the air. It seemed the rest of him had been reduced to nothing but pulverized ashes.

I scanned the head for any sign of magical jiggery-pokery that might have preserved or transferred the nasty old yeti's essence but found nothing. I floated it over to Celaeno and dropped it at her foot. "Dead as can be, and there's your proof. Keep it as a souvenir if you like."

Birds can make some very odd noises at times.

"It was delightful to meet you, Captain Celaeno—" Rarity hurried to say, "—but we really must be getting along, isn't that right, dear Captain?"

"True enough," I admitted. I nodded to Celaeno. "Captain."

She nodded back. "Captain."

As we walked back to our craft, I heard her say to her crew, "D'you see this, me scallywags? No more haulin' trash to a schedule! We're free birds again!" A ragged cheer went up. They seemed like a nice enough crew and I really hoped I wouldn't have to run them down someday.[3]

[3] It turns out they took up hunting slave ships, freeing the captives and selling the vessels, which was fine with me. (Incidentally, it's a good thing that I didn't know that Klugetown was a slave-trading port at the time, or I might just have let the flaming spire fall on it.)

We were quickly back aboard our own little crafts and in the air. I told Ket to hold her monstrous form until we were out of sight of the town, because I was sure it would make for better stories of the day.

Once we didn't have a couple dozen rubbery limbs to work around, I levitated Bookmark's painter out and made it fast to the tail of Rarity's ornithopter. We could make much better speed being towed than by our little propulsive fins alone.

We relaxed and rested as much as possible on the way back to Seaward Shoals. We spotted two ships in the far distance at the edge of the Bone Dry Desert, but they didn't alter course to intercept us, and we never got a clear identification.

We were nearing the edge of the juniper woodlands as the sun was sinking toward the horizon, and I decided to teleport ahead to make sure everything was ready for a swift departure. I'd also need to arrange for the return of Wepaten's ornithopter to the High Song, and I made a mental note to fully recharge the motive crystal first. I shucked off my coat before casting the spell,[4] but used a gem in one of the pockets to power the teleport. My personal reserves had recovered a little bit, but not enough for a long-range teleport.

[4] There were still too many magically charged items in the coat to safely enter interstitial space.

I appeared on Nebula's main deck right at the beginning of the second Dog Watch. Sherbet and Applejack were on the quarterdeck and Pinkie Pie was right behind me.

"Welcome back, Twilight!" she yelled. "Did you beat the bad guy?" I am happy to say that I only jumped a little bit. I turned and gave her a weary grin. I really wanted to say that yes, I'd impacted, impaled, and immolated the bad guy, but instead said, "I sure did, Pinkie! Did you bake me a cake?"

She gave an explosive giggle that ended in a snort. "Aww, you know me, Twilight! OF COURSE I BAKED YOU A CAKE!"

Applejack had come down to the waist by then. "Quick work there, Twi. Did you get the scroll from Cadance?"

Ao and Spike had come on deck by then, and after Spike had given me a hug, I explained everything to them. "I should send out some letters," I said. "Is Luna still here?"

"Regretfully, no Captain," Ao told me. "Her Divine Highness received a scroll from Princess Cadenza as well, and departed soon thereafter. She did, however, leave a note for you, and this one placed it on the shelf in your sleeping cabin."

"Thank you Ao," I said. "Captain Calvados, how soon can Nebula be ready to depart? It looks like we're urgently needed up north."

"We're flushin'' sand outta the ballast tanks, an' fillin' 'em with water." She pointed over the larboard rail where a long hose dangled from a through-hull to four ponies on a rocker pump on the ground. "I figured we'd best rig for the least amount o' drag, so the main yard is struck, an' Hawser is strikin' the topgallant mast right now. All the staysails are gettin' a nice tight harbor furl to 'em, too. Should take another couple o' hours an' then all we gotta do is haul anchors and ring up the engines."

"Good work, AJ! I couldn't have done better, myself."

"Thanks, Twi." She grinned and took a look around at the bustling crew. " Well, I reckon I oughtta transfer command back t'you, since—"

"No, you take her up," I interrupted. "I need a good long while to sleep and recuperate, and it should be routine until we get north of Canterlot. I may have to teleport ahead by then, depending on the situation."

"Whatever you say, Twi."

I went below and settled in behind the big table in my cabin. The first thing I did was to read Luna's note.

Dearest Twilight,

I have received an urgent summons from Princess Mi Amore Cadenza, and am departing for the Crystal Empire.

I know that you will quickly deal with the Storm King as he deserves and return to Nebula, only send word to me as soon as may be, so that I might rejoice in your victory.

I misdoubt the threat to be as dire as young Cadance supposes, but mayhaps I will be fortunate enough to be given the opportunity to strike a blow or two against the foes of Equestria. Come soon, so that we may do battle together!

All My Love,

Luna

Misdoubt, mayhaps… Oh, how I loved the way she wrote to me. Her command of Modern Equuish was perfect, and she only used archaic words and phrasing because she knew I enjoyed it as much as poetry. I often wished I could reciprocate, or compose poems for her, but I was hopeless at that sort of thing. Still, I did my best.

Dear Luna,

The King is dead
And I am fine.
I'm coming soon
To make you mine.

Hugs and Kisses,

-Twilight

I sat and stared at it for a long time, until Spike said, "Should I send that one?"

"Oh Sacred Stars, no!" I said, crumpling up the piece of paper and tossing it into the wastepaper basket. I quickly scribbled down a much more prosaic and much less embarrassing note. I still signed it "Hugs and Kisses," though.

I continued writing notes almost as fast as Spike could send them. Rainbow Dash ran one over to Javelin for me.

I left the door of the cabin open, and as I worked, several of the crew poked their heads in to welcome me back and congratulate me. About an hour later, Ao came in and informed me that Bookmark and the ornithopter had been sighted and would be arriving in a few minutes.

I went on deck to welcome them, and while I was there, Captain Quicksilver's gig arrived from Javelin. I pointed out the ornithopter to him and "relayed Princess Twilight's request" that it be returned to the High Song. Since there were far too many people to squeeze into the captain's cabin for dinner, we set up one big table aft of the mizzenmast for officers and their guests, and a much bigger one in the waist over the forward cargo hatch for the rest of the crew. Applejack ordered fifteen minute change-overs on the pumping crew, so that everyone could enjoy the meal and celebration.

As exhausted as I was, I still thoroughly enjoyed the dinner that did double duty as a planning and information session.

At first Captain Quicksilver was a bit confused about Applejack sitting at the head of the table, but when I explained the situation, he turned to AJ and asked, "This is your first command then, Captain Calvados?"

She nodded. "Sure is."

"Well then!" The Captain stood up and motioned to his Second Officer. "Ms. Song! We must wet the swab!"[5]

AJ gave me a "what's goin' on here?" glance and I gave her a reassuring little wave of the hoof.

She was further reassured when Ms. Thunder Song produced a bottle of Blackberry cordial, which was quickly poured out to everyone at the table for a toast.

We all stood as Quicksilver raised his glass and solemnly intoned, "To Calvados, Captain of Nebula. May the weight of command be light across her withers and may she always have fair skies and a clear course to steer!"

We all drank up and then cheered, whistled, and pounded the table. Incidentally, Applejack has a very pretty blush.

[5] In the Royal Navy and Aeronautical Service, when a pony is given the position of a ship's captain but doesn't hold the rank of captain, she is given a single epaulet to wear on the left shoulder of her uniform jacket. The dangling little tassels look sort of like the yarns of a mop, so drinking a toast to the new captain's command became known as "wetting the swab." The fact that AJ was a privateer/merchantpony and had neither epaulet nor uniform to put it on, was not going to stop the juggernaut of tradition.

I told the story (slightly edited) of the Storm King's demise and heaped praise on Mr. Ralf for the excellent job he'd done on the trick hobbles and horn sheath. Ket and Tempest came in for their fair share of accolades, and they each had their own bits to add to the tale. We had to connive at the fiction that Princess Twilight had gone north with Princess Luna, and that seemed to satisfy the Javelins.

Even though I knew we would be served cake for dessert, it took me by surprise when I saw it. Pinkie is an incredible artist with anything even remotely related to food, and she had outdone herself with the huge cake sculpture she presented to us. I had a moment of confused emotions before I burst out laughing.

Then, I used one of my short blades to cut and serve slices from the near-perfect replica of the Storm King's head.

= = =

=

Author's Note

Pinkie would never forgive me if I didn't allow you a peek at her masterpiece, so...
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The Storm Drain's head on a plate.

24 Uncertain Times

Chapter Twenty Four - Uncertain Times

While I was saying my goodbyes to Captain Quicksilver and the Javelins, we were interrupted by a guttural roar as our yeti prisoner smashed out of the fo'c'sle hatchway with a huge iron pry bar in one fist. His broken legs, swaddled in plaster, didn't seem to hamper his movements much, as he used his huge arms to propel himself toward the crew on the forward hatch.

He raised his iron bar to take a deck-clearing swing, and Lucky Charm hit him square in the face with both hind hooves. He went over backwards and fetched up against the starboard rail with Lucky standing on his chest and pointing her cutlass at his throat. She let go of the stays'l halyard she had used to swing down from the mainmast and growled around the hilt of her sword, "Don't move."

His eyes darted back and forth. If the sharp edge near his jugular wasn't enough to get him to surrender, the forest of blades that had suddenly appeared in the grasp of every Nebula on deck did the trick. He opened his fist and the pry bar clattered to the deck.

"Half!" Applejack yelled. "Grab that coil o' line an' tie him up tight. Zeph, go below and fetch those shackles! Ms. Ao, can you see if'n you can figure out how he got loose?"

Right about then, Ensign Sherbet flew up over the larboard rail.

"Captain!," she called out urgently. "Grubber's gone overboard!"

"The varmint fell?"

"No ma'am, or I would have called for the doctor first. He let down a rappelling line and slid down. We were concentrating on packing up the pump and then we heard the commotion on deck or we would have seen him quicker. He ran off toward the woodlands and—"

"The cussed little critter must o' let the big one loose as a distraction!"

Tempest stepped forward. "I'll go after him. I know how he thinks, so I've got the best chance of finding him."

I sheathed my blades and crossed over to her. "Tempest, it could take all night and we don't have time to wait. The tanks are full, and we've got to leave."

"I've got to go after him."

"You'd really leave the ship and maybe never make it back to Equestria? Give up…" I gestured downward toward the secret compartment under the guest cabin.

She stared out over the rail in the direction of the dark woods. "The little idiot will never make it home. He won't even survive that desert, and I can't let him die like that."

I stared at her for a moment, a silly grin spreading across my muzzle, and then I said, "Ket! My emergency power crystal in the—"

She was already moving. "I know it! Back in a breath!"

Tempest frowned at me. "Don't try and talk me out of it, Twilight. I know he's annoying and—"

"Here y'are, Captain!" Ket was back, holding up the lovely little ruby for me.

I touched the gem and yelled, "'Ware! 'Port onboard!"

An object-specific teleport is rarely reliable when trying to grab a specific pony, but the little dwarf yeti was a unique specimen. Grubber appeared on the aft hatch cover still running, his fur tangled with sap-covered juniper twigs. He managed to stop before he hit the mainmast. Then he threw up on my deck.

Tempest walked over and stood above him, scowling fiercely. He looked up and gave her a sheepish grin. "Uh… Can't blame a guy for tryin'... Right?"

Her scowl dissolved into a little half-smile and she slowly shook her head. "Grubber, you idiot."

The party didn't stop just because we needed to get under way and had two prisoners to secure. Because we were going north under power, there was no need to keep the deck uncluttered for line work. Once the pump and hose were onboard, I had given the Javelins a proper farewell, and Grubber and his overgrown friend were properly shackled, I used one of my last gems to pull up our ground anchors myself to skip the usual back-and-forth.[1] Fluttershy spun up the engines and got us under way as the crew hauled in the mooring cables.

[1] Ground anchors, or mooring stakes can be pulled out fairly easily when an airship is directly above them, so it's usual to maneuver over to one (the position is called "short peak"), pull it up, and then move to short peak above the other and do the same, repeating that if more than two anchors are used. An airship can anchor with only one stake, but a shift of wind can easily swing the ship and cause that stake to lose purchase, so it's not as common a practice as it is with sailing ships.

I walked a turn around the main deck and chatted with the crew a bit, making sure to give Lucky Charm a hearty, "Well done!" before retiring to my sleeping cabin. It was still fairly early, but I was completely wrung out and was hoping that I might meet up with Luna in the Dreamlands.

= = =

Unfortunately, I awoke in the late morning with no memory of having dreamed.

I checked the time and our course on the overhead instruments and then whistled for the quarterdeck. Clove Hitch answered. "All's well, Captain. I will send Mr. Lance down with your messages and coffee."

"Please do. I will be on deck before the end of the watch."

I rolled out of my bunk, grabbed my greatcoat and went into the captain's cabin. I was methodically emptying the pockets of my coat and setting out the various items by type on the table when Spike knocked at the door and entered.

I took the mug out of his claws and floated it directly to my muzzle for a big gulp.

"How are you doing, TwI?" he asked. "You look kinda—rough."

I sighed. "The last couple of days were… Yes, rough is a good description. I'll be fine with a day or two of rest."

He reached up and put his hand on my shoulder. "Anything I can do to help out?"

I took another big mouthful of coffee and considered. "Can you work out a duty schedule for the unicorn crew to recharge these gems? I'll sort them in order of importance and put them on a tray here."

"Sure thing! Ao and the changelings can charge gems, right? What about Lucky?"

"It's dead simple. If she doesn't know how to do it, I can show her in fifteen minutes or so. Same for the Ensign; I don't know if she's ever done it before."

Spike put the stack of messages he had tucked under one arm down on the table and then got out his little notebook and started scribbling away.

I flipped through the messages. One from Cadance, which I put aside for when I'd finished a second mug of coffee, one from Luna, and a very thick one from Celestia. For a wonder, none of them were marked "urgent," so I opened Luna's first.

My Dearest Twilight,

Though I had no doubts that you would triumph against the Storm King, I rejoice in your news of his well-deserved death. I eagerly anticipate hearing the full story from your own sweet lips when circumstances allow. I am determined to commission a monumental statue to commemorate the event, and will not hear of "Quarterly Budget Deficits," and other such witless prattle from the Secretary of the Royal Treasury.

Young Cadenza has insisted that her visions will be the best guide for dealing with the Storm King's Eastern Fleet and Sister agrees, though having had no visions of her own. This vexes me greatly, as I detest inaction in times of crisis.

Though we mayn't send the Air Service northward, yet we have skulkers and scouts to spy out the situation. Sister has prepared a summary of what we have learned so far, which I am certain you will make good use of.

I await your arrival with unseemly anticipation.

Hugs and Kisses, & Other Intemperate Acts Best Left Unwritten,

Your Luna.

I put my forelegs up on the table and rested my chin on them. I stared at the letter for a while, admiring Luna's calligraphy, and feeling a sort of haze of peacefulness settle onto me.

"How's this, Twi?" Spike said, breaking my revelry. He was holding out his notebook where he'd drawn a couple of tables.

I drained the last of my coffee and took a look at them. "These are good," I told him. "I like that you've put in alternative options here."

"Well, I thought that you might want to prioritize recharging your gems over keeping the engine crystals topped up."

I nodded. "Good thinking. Even if we run without recharging, we should still have about three-quarters engine power left. Cadance says we can't go after them with airships, anyway." I glanced at her unopened letter.

"Do you think she's right about that?"

I sighed. "Spike, I wouldn't be so upset about the whole thing if I thought she was wrong. Whatever deep magic is behind all this seems determined to put our fate on rails, and I absolutely hate that idea. If it's the sun-forsaken king come back again through some black magic, I'll kill him again and keep killing him until he gets the message. If it's one of his commanders thinking he can pick up where his moron leader left off, I'll kill that one, and every last yeti with ideas about conquest if I have to sink their whole cursed island..." I broke off, realizing I was panting and shaking. "I'm sorry, Spike. I didn't mean that. I didn't..." But I had meant it.

Spike shuffled his feet on the deck and his claws clacked together as he twiddled his fingers nervously. "Well… I guess…" His gaze fell on my empty mug. "Do you want a refill?"

I forced a smile. No sense in letting my frustration make my little brother feel uneasy. "I'd love one, thanks!"

He paused for a moment and the corner of his mouth twitched. "Decaf?"

I barked out a long laugh that drained most of the tension out of me. "Mutiny! My own dear, snarky, reptilian brother now plots against me!"

"That's a 'no,' then?" Spike picked up the mug, openly smiling at his captain in violation of every aeronautical notion of ship's discipline. Since Nebula's command structure had completely fallen apart, I pulled him into a brief, tight hug.

He trotted off to the galley, still smiling, and I opened Celestia's thick package. Her own letter was fairly short.

Well done, Twilight. Thank you.

A thorough victory, and one completely disassociated from Equestria, is all that I hoped for. We have agreed that Luna will join you and continue north to face the threat that Cadance feels is so dire.

I have attached some material which might be useful. Also a few clippings from the Times that I think you'll find amusing. I wish I could accompany you both, but as there are still foreign nobles and diplomats in Canterlot that must be presented with an air of languid invincibility, it's high tea, croquet, garden parties, and vapid chatter until I go completely mad.

Pity me,

Celestia

I have to admit, she got a chuckle out of me.

Most of the sheets of paper were from the Royal Archivist containing a summary of what she could glean from old records about what sort of magical artifacts might be associated with Mt. Everhoof and environs. Most of it was vague legend and folklore from pre-unification days. I flipped through them, skimming, and then set them aside. Still almost two days out from the Empire, I'd have time to go over them in detail later.

"Here you go, Twi!" Spike put my refilled mug down on the table, well away from the paperwork.

"Thank you, Spike." I floated the mug over and took a big sip as I pulled the newspaper clipping out of the pile and unfolded it.

The op-ed piece was by somepony named Twitchy Withers, which I hoped was a pseudonym, but fit in pretty well with the tone of the piece. It called for the total abolishment of magic in Equestria. It argued that the best way to protect ourselves from monsters wanting our magic, would be to get rid of the thing that attracted them in the first place. It got a derisive chuckle out of me. Yes, it was the perfect and obvious solution with one tiny little side effect: the collapse of Equestrian civilization.

I made a mental note to forward it to the editor of the Twilight Town Tribune. She had a special column on the Letters to the Editor page with the heading Of Special Interest. It was very popular, and when she hadn't received enough crank letters to fill the space, she usually wrote something herself under a nom de plume.

The other articles were mostly brief stories about cultural misunderstandings involving the foreign visitors. They were amusing, but also hopeful in that they invariably ended with good-humored chagrin, rather than hurt feelings.

Cadance's letter was a surprise.

Dear Twilight,

I want to thank you for everything you've done for us. Knowing that there is one less monster in the world because of you is great comfort. Was my last dream a mere echo of my anxiety? I don't know, but whatever may happen in the coming days, I have the utmost trust in you. Please hurry north.

When this is all over (this time), I hope you and your crew will be our guests in the Empire for a while to rest and recuperate. Flurry has been asking when Auntie Twi-wi will come for a visit, and I know that Shiny would like to spend some quality catching-up time with you.

Sultan Xajir has been informed of the current situation and arrived on his yacht this morning. He is a very sweet stallion and he and your brother are getting along very well.

I still can't get the image out of my mind of that horrible beast smashing the Empire's shield dome to fragments with his enormous curling horns, but I know you are coming, and that makes all the difference.

All My Love,

Cady

I actually got a little teary-eyed by the end of the letter. Must have been the magical exhaustion.

I still couldn't figure out how the dead and desiccated Storm Drain could possibly…

Then it hit me. "Oh blistering wind!"

"Huh?" Spike looked up from the tray where he was setting out my power gems. "Am I doing it wrong?"

"What? No! It's this." I smacked Cadance's letter with a hoof. "The monster she saw in her dreams wasn't the Storm King at all!"

I stood up and stomped the deck in anger and frustration. "'Big shaggy beast,' she said! 'Horns!' But the Storm King had those jagged antler-like things, not curling horns. She never saw the banner! She didn't know what the King looked like! Oh Sacred Stars, Spike! We've been chasing the wrong monster!"

= = =

I had Spike send off several hurried notes and then went up to the quarterdeck.

Ao had the watch and Fluttershy was on the wheel even though it wasn't her watch. Hawser was standing by the larboard rail, content to let Ms. Summer Breeze have more time with her beloved Nebula.

"Hawser! Pass the word for Ms. Ket, Ms. Clove Hitch, Captain Calvados, and Mr. Ralf, sharply!"

"Aye-aye ma'am!" Operations aboard Nebula are usually fairly casual, but the snap in my voice had him bracing and saluting before leaving the quarterdeck.

"Trouble, Majesty?" Ao asked in a low voice.

"There's another Big Bad out there. One capable of breaking my big brother's strongest shield."

"Unfortunate," she said. She has a gift for understatement.

We waited until all the officers were together, and Applejack had formally transferred command back to me, before I explained the situation. "Princess Cadenza has strongly warned against engaging the thing with aircraft, but we will be transporting all our best weapons to the Empire. I've sent messages to Canterlot and Twilight Town requesting all the magical armament that they can spare. We can help set up scattered ground defenses and ambushes on all the approaches to the city, and figure out a more solid plan once we know more. Questions?"

Clove Hitch raised her hoof. "Will we be stopping in Canterlot as planned?"

"No. I've asked Princess Luna to load up her yacht and meet us in the Crystal Empire, though we may be running together if the timing works out." I turned to Ralf. "Which reminds me: how much can we safely push the engines?"

"If the Captain allows a rotating five minute shut-down every four hours, Ralf can probably spot any problems before Nebula loses an engine. Emergency Ahead should be safe enough, if so."

Ket raised a hoof. I nodded to her. "I estimate that should put us in the Empire in a day and a half. Around late tomorrow afternoon. After we've run for a watch, I can give you a more accurate estimate."

Ao spoke up next. "It is this one's thought that the earliest that Black Fang[2] can be loaded and reach our destination would be two days or more."

[2] The Equestrian Air Service would probably have rated Twilight Town's single exclusively military airship, HDMAS Black Fang, as a light frigate. I just thought of her as My Little Insurance Policy. She and her crew had never been tested in an actual battle, but the Twilight Town Air Militia got in a lot of practice and were crack shots—at least as long as their targets were floating barrels and old hot-air balloons.

I nodded in agreement, wishing prophecies came with any sort of convenient timetables.

"Alright then! Mr. Hawser, spread the word to the rest of the crew and have the galley set out extra rations. Mr. Ralf, start a rotating engine inspection now. Ms. Summer Breeze, as Mr. Ralf gives the okay, run up each engine to Emergency Ahead. Ms. Zashira, replot our course for a direct line to the Empire at the most efficient altitude. Duck or jump Cloudsdale if necessary. Any further questions?"

There were none, so we all went to our business.

Halter Hitch and Zepherine were in the captain's cabin charging crystals, so Ao and I went down to the guest cabin, picking up Tempest on the way. Planning for a ground defense against an enemy of unknown power with Ao gave me an oddly pleasant sense of nostalgia, and Tempest's very practical (and very nasty) suggestions gave the session a welcome feeling of freshness.

I was actually feeling confident and hopeful before the speaking tube broke my concentration with three shrill whistles.

There wasn't a tube in the guest cabin, but Ao's cabin was right next door and we had no trouble hearing the urgency behind those forceful shrieks. I dashed through the doorway and pulled the plug on the tube. "Captain here!"

"Cupola here," came the excited voice of Lucky Charm. "I… I think I spotted an enemy ship… Uh… Broad on the starboard bow?"

We were less than a day out of Canterlot. What would an enemy ship be doing in the Equestrian heartland?

"Captain?" Ao asked.

"Lucky thinks she's seen an enemy ship."

Ao raised an eloquent eyebrow and her barbels performed the equivalent of an eye-roll.

"I'll go check," I said. "Be right back." I popped up to the top of Nebula's envelope, just behind the cupola. "Ms. Charm?"

She had been leaning over the starboard lip of the cupola with a spyglass to her eye, and jumped a bit as I spoke. "Oh! Uh…" She pointed a hoof. "It was over there, just envelope up.[3] It was all jaggedy like the Storm King's ships. I don't see it now, but there's a lot of mist…"

[3] Because of the curvature of the planet, the first thing a pony sees of an approaching ship is the very top, and "envelope up" or "topsails up" are the phrases used to describe that sort of sighting. "Hull up" means the ship is entirely visible above the horizon.

She passed me the glass and I scanned the horizon. We were nearing Ghastly Gorge, and the thick mists on the horizon were typical for that time of year over the southern Everfree Forest. In that direction was…

"You may have seen Rambling Rock Ridge," I told Lucky. "It has a jagged profile a lot like the top armor of a Stormship."

Lucky bit her lip and shuffled her hooves uncertainly. "I… I don't think so, Captain. It really looked like a ship to me."

I only had to think about it for a second. "Continue to keep watch here, Ms. Charm. You'll be relieved in a minute or so; I'll want you on deck."

I popped down to the quarterdeck, took the bell rope firmly in the grip of my magic, and rang for battle stations.

= = =

=

Author's Note

25 The Battle at Ghastly Gorge

Chapter Twenty Five - The Battle at Ghastly Gorge

"Armor up and to your stations!" I bellowed out from the quarterdeck. "Mount all catapults and net throwers! Load with wire and cutting heads! Pass the word for Ms. Tempest!"

Tempest came up from below, still shrugging into her borrowed armor as she came up the ladder to the quarterdeck. "Captain?"

"Stormguard battleship approaching from the northeast," I told her. "Any advice on how to fight her?"

"Can't you just—"

I had no time or patience to explain about the exhausted state of my storage crystals and the low ebb of my own personal magic. "We have options, but it might come down to a slugfest. What are their weaknesses?"

She heard the urgency in my voice and responded in kind. "Detonation right under the envelope is best, because that would get the three center cells, but the gap is narrow and they guard against that, mostly with heavily armored troops on deck. Enough strikes in the same spot on the envelope will burn through the anti-magic coating, but there are six cells in there and they only need four to stay aloft if they drop all ballast. The propellers and rudders are vulnerable, but you have to get behind them to hit those, and they often retract the two outboard props during battle to protect them. Even if we shear off everything aft of the envelope, they'll still be able to get emergency maneuverability back."

I nodded. "Okay. What is the most likely way they'll attack us?"

"The whole ship is a weapon. The keel is effectively an ax blade; if they get above us, they can slice through our envelope and gas cells. If they're below us, that top armor will cut through our hull like a giant saw. But what they mostly do against other ships is board them. The beakhead is a ram, and will hook in to hold fast. If we avoid a direct collision, they've got a grappling cannon in the bow. Once they've got us caught and reeled in, they'll hook on the boarding planks, throw a wave of catapult bolts and javelins, and the heavy armor will charge across."

Tempest was facing me and didn't see the growing expression of rage forming on Fluttershy's face, but she turned in surprise when Flutters snarled through her teeth, "They're not going to hurt Nebby or any of her ponies. I won't let them!"

Tempest backed away a step and shot me a questioning look.

"She is quite sincere, Ms. Tempest," I said.

Ao and Rainbow Dash arrived at almost the same time, Ao was carrying a padded chest painted with nearly every warning symbol known to ponykind.

"Ooh, ooh! Is that zebra fire?" Dash asked, her eyes fixed on the box. "Can I do it this time?"

I shook my head. "We need a couple of rainbooms to soften up the yetis first, and the spheres would detonate if you were carrying them."

"Aw, Twi! I never get to play with the good toys!"

The fact that she called the hideously dangerous things "toys" only made me more determined to keep them out of her hooves. "Since when do you need weapons to smack the bad guys around?"

She gave the hilt of her cutlass a flick with one hoof. "Variety, Twilight. Look it up!"

"We don't even know if it is a Stormguard ship yet, and you can—" The speaking tube from the cupola interrupted me with three shrill whistles.

It was a Stormguard ship, and it was headed straight for us.

I turned to the waist and ordered, "Rig the anti-boarding nets to lay low! Out with bare stun'sl bones!"

The "lay low" part of my order meant the crew were to rig the nets to be hauled up very quickly, but to leave them rolled up, out of sight below the bulwarks. The fixing of the spars for the studding sails was a tactic to attempt to keep the enemy hull away from our own and to provide some protection for the engine pods. Which reminded me…

"Mr. Ralf! Fix lanyards to the mounting pins on all engine struts. Mark them with red flags!" If it came to a close boarding action, he could pull the pins out, causing the engine struts to swing down vertically on their hinges, where the engines would be less likely to be crushed between two hulls.

"Dash, wait until they're two furlongs out and then blast them! one going out and one coming back."

She made no further protest about the zebra fire, but gave me a tight nod. "Gotcha, skipper. Give 'em the Old One-Two."

"Ao, keep cover behind our envelope until the second shockwave hits and then out on a high arc and light them up."

Ao grinned. "With pleasure, Captain." She didn't move immediately but stood there with an expectant tilt of her head. Her barbels lay close and unmoving on her cheeks.

"Ah." I said.

"It is the thing to do, Captain," she quietly reminded me.

I sighed. "Ensign Shrrbrgrth, hoist the furled Red Moon to the main top. Break it out at two and a half furlongs."

"Aye-aye, Captain! Fly the Red Moon at two and a half. Surrender or die." She went below to get our joli rouge.

"Fluttershy—"

"Straight at them, aye Captain." She was already turning Nebula onto an intercept course to the enemy.

Did it bother me that the crew seemed so eager to get into a fight to the death with a warship full of enormous hulking brutes? No, it didn't bother me at all. But since my mind is a nightmare of recursive introspection at times, I knew I would spend several sleepless nights in the future, upset that I wasn't bothered about it.

I patted at my pockets and realized I had no charged gems on me at all. "Spike!"

"Right here, Twi!" he said from behind me.

"Go down to the cabin and get whatever's been charged, will you? After that… Can you demount the motivator crystals from Bookmark and Bibliophile? Ask Ralf to help you."

"On it!" He hurried away.

I had a quiet word with Fluttershy about tactics until Spike returned with the gems.

He grimaced. "They're only half full. Mr. Ralf is working on the boats now, but he said something about their crystals not being suitable for big discharges?"

I checked the two half-charged crystals and slipped them into the little hidden pockets in my sleeves. "I know about their cross-columnar growth structure, Spike. I'll take that into account if I have to use them. Go on below and assist Mr. Ralf, and thank him for the warning, will you?"

When he'd gone, I trotted forward to the fo'c'sle deck and pulled out my big spyglass. I could just make out the ugly shape of the Stormguard airship through the mist. My biggest concern was that there might be more of them, but it soon became clear that she was running alone.

I scanned the landscape ahead of us, just to be thorough, and spotted a slow freight train heading south from Ponyville on the trestle at the head of the gorge. A crew pony (or possibly a hobo) clung to a boxcar ladder, staring back at us.

"Enjoy the show," I muttered under my breath.

"I beg your pardon, Captain?"

Clove Hitch stood behind me with my light helmet and gorget.

"Train on the line down there. Let's try not to drop the yetis on them."

She nodded hesitantly, probably unsure if I was kidding or not.

I put on the armor. Clove had rightly assumed I wouldn't want the peytral, saddle, or flanchards. My coat was woven with spells and had strategic bits of armor built into it that made it at least as effective as light aeronaut armor, with the added benefit of lots of pockets.

"Make sure the crew are on safety lines for the first pass. There will be sharp maneuvering when we engage."

"Already spread the word, Captain. Everything else is set and ready."

"Good." I took another look through my glass at the smoke-belching monstrosity. "Close now. Let's get back to the quarterdeck. Oh, and have Mr. Landslide re-secure the main yard with slip knots, will you? I may need it in a hurry."

"Aye, Captain." She took the bizarre order as calmly as if I had asked for a cup of coffee, but she had been on my crew for a long time.

Ralf met me on the quarterdeck with the motivator crystals in a padded carrying bag. "Both spares are in there, too. Please be careful with them, Captain."

"Good work Mr. Ralf. We've rigged a grating as a ramp down to the crew deck where Dr. Woundwort is set up. Station yourself there and be ready to run up and pull the engine lanyards if the command is given."

I thought about the amount of energy in the engine crystals for a moment and roughly estimated the damage they would do if detonated on deck. Then I slung the bag over the transom, attached to the big stern lantern. That would be close enough to draw from, but in a place where an explosion would do the least damage. We might lose the stern gallery and the windows, and maybe a chunk of the rudder and the preventer stays, but the thick planking of the transom should stop any shrapnel from spraying onto the quarterdeck. It would have to do.

Waiting is the hardest part. Everything was ready, and all we could do was watch the steady approach of the enemy. They were close enough for me to see the armored yetis working on the foredeck, setting up what looked like some sort of catapult, when Ensign Sherbet went over to the main flag halyard and pulled down sharply.

A pirate who flew the red flag sent a clear message that was understood the world over: Surrender or die.

I had no clue how or why the yetis were here in the heartland, less than a day's trot from Ponyville, but it didn't matter. The warship was a knife at Equestria's belly, and had to be dealt with. We couldn't let the ship or any of the crew escape because any death and destruction they wrought afterward would be because we failed to prevent it. Mercy could get ponies killed.

The air hissed as Rainbow Dash streaked out from the top, a bow wake of compressed mist forming in front of her almost instantly. The yetis spotted her and fired their strange catapult, but I could see it would be a clear miss. Dash was just too fast for them.

Then it happened, as it nearly always does; my plans fell apart only seconds into the battle.

The glittering catapult shot curved up and followed Dash. It wasn't just a simple hunk of metal, but something magical. It wasn't gaining on her, but she couldn't see it coming from behind, and when she made her turn for the return run…

A blaze of chromatic light blossomed in the sky above the yeti ship and the sound and concussion reached us an instant later. Nebula was bow-on to the blast and Fluttershy knew exactly how to ride out the shock, but the yeti ship had been hit from above and it dropped a dozen lengths, accompanied by ugly cracking noises.

The magical weapon wobbled but recovered and continued the pursuit. The apparent separation between it and Dash widened as she started her turn. It was enough to allow me to take a shot without risking hitting her. The glittering thing expanded into a spinning starburst of blades as it neared its target and my blast caught it just before impact. Dash swerved away from the spray of sharp fragments when my bolt destroyed the thing and lost the speed necessary for a second rainboom.

The yeti ship's engines roared, spewing dark smoke as she climbed back to attack altitude and her catapult crew fired again. This time it was a spread of three shots aimed at the ponies on Nebula's deck.

I got a snap-shield in front of one, but whatever magic was driving the thing practically negated the shield. It skittered off and around and kept coming. I followed up with a hurried blast of direct force, but the little gem in my sleeve popped and shattered as I pulled too much power from it too quickly and my half-formed starfire bolt had barely enough oomph to disable the thing before it hit the capstan and broke apart.

Star Dance hit another with a shot from the net thrower in the bow, and the wadded mess of wire and magical blades clattered and ripped along the bowsprit before falling away.

Tempest tried to shoot the third one out of the air, but she couldn't manage an accurately aimed shot. The weapon passed through her powerful but unfocussed blast and tore through the larboard main shrouds, parting two of them before it disintegrated. That told me that the things were capable of only one strike, which was a bit of good news.

The yetis had used the volley to distract us from their crew firing their big grapnel cannon, and the dull roar of the launch startled everypony. But Fluttershy hadn't been fooled, and used all of her skill to try to jink us out of the way in time.

Ponies on deck stumbled and swayed as Nebula swung hard to starboard. One fluke of the grapnel raked along her hull as it flew past, throwing a spray of oak splinters in its wake, but it missed getting hold of us, and the yetis released the heavy chain so that the hook wouldn't drag their bow down. It clattered out of the hawse pipe and vanished below us, as their beakhead closed over the launching tube.

"FIRE ON THEIR CATAPULT!" I bellowed in the royal voice.

We were turning to give the battleship a full broadside, but only two of our bolt-throwing catapults could immediately be brought to bear. They both got off good shots. Unfortunately, the yetis were more than willing to protect their magical armament with their own bodies, and formed a shieldwall in front of the weapon as soon as they saw our weapons aiming at it.

The heavy bolts slammed into their big metal shields and sent three of the brutes tumbling across the deck, but the launcher remained undamaged, and began rapidly firing back almost immediately. Tempest released another blast, but it spattered harmlessly off of the anti-magic shields.

Nebula was still turning as five more glittering shots streaked for her deck. I reached out with my magic to connect with the engine motivator crystals, and to Tartarus with the consequences, when the main deck fell into sudden shadow as a huge shape dropped from above.

The blade clusters hit bronze, steel, and wire-woven canvas with an awful noise, ripping, breaking and shattering as they expended themselves against Nebula's big starboard steering fin that Fluttershy had swung down to shield the crew.

Shafts of sunlight shone through the holes in the fin as it rose back up into flight position. One of the struts was bent at an unpleasant angle, but if anypony could keep Nebula flying true with a mangled fin, it was Fluttershy.

The damned catapult fired again and again, and we answered back with more shots of our own as we kept turning. There were cries of pain from both sides as the strikes found targets. I shot one more of the blade clusters out of the air, and was out of backup energy.

"Ao! This way! Bring it here!" Rarity shouted from behind me.

I turned to see Ao, still clutching the zebra fire globes, trying to outrun one of the blade clusters. She was remarkably acrobatic in flight, but slower than an average pegasus and the weapon had nearly caught up with her.

Ao came in low over the quarterdeck and Rarity's needles darted out, swirling in a starburst shape, right into the path of the glittering knives. The collision was almost musical, and the enemy weapon fragmented into individual blades which tumbled, uncontrolled, toward the ground below.

Rarity glanced at me. "Simple pattern. Easily countered." She sniffed disdainfully and added, "Inelegant."

"How long can you keep that up?"

She shrugged. "All day, darling, but my range isn't far. I can keep the quarterdeck clear, but from the way they're elevating that thing, it looks like they're going to be firing at our rigging and envelope next."

She was right. They'd evidently given up on the idea of boarding us and had decided to sink us instead. I had to disable that damned-to-Tartarus weapon.

I thought furiously. The yeti anti-magic shields would just bounce back any starfire bolts I threw at them, and I'd exhaust myself trying. After the little gem in my sleeve had popped, I'd given up any hope of using the engine motivator crystals, because as soon as I pulled a big pulse of energy from one, they'd just…

Oh, Ralf is going to hate me for this, I thought.

I levitated the whole bag of crystals off of the big stern lantern and threw it at the battleship's foredeck.

Credit to the yeti crew; they saw the bag coming and set their shields in a tight formation that protected the magic catapult from above as well as from the sides. It just didn't do them any good.

The thaumochromatic detonation made the battleship shudder and pitch wildly, and when the colorful vapors had cleared, the catapult and almost all of the foredeck crew were gone. So was the helm, and the ship began to swerve away from us.

Ao floated down beside me. "Now, Captain?" she asked, nodding to the glowing green spheres carefully cradled in her forelegs.

"Now, Ms. Ao"

A few of the yetis spotted her as she flew up and across, but she wiggled out of the way of the crossbow shots they managed to get off, and ugly green fire blossomed across their dorsal surface.

An ordinary airship would have foundered within a minute or so, but the armor slowed the progress of the zebra fire. It would eventually sink her as it burned through the joints between the plates but, as we'd learned at Canterlot, that would take a while, and the delay left time for the yetis to continue the fight.

More yetis came up on deck from below and tried to get control of their ship. One of them was shouting orders back through a doorway at the rear of the deck, and it seemed they were trying to steer by varying the speed of their props and manually swinging the rudders under his direction. Tempest tried a shot at him, but her blast went low and only hit the hull, so I had Half Hitch shoot him with a rope-cutter bolt. That delayed them, but they formed up a shield wall to protect the deck and soon were able to steer again.

They steered straight for us.

It made sense. If they knew their ship was going to sink, why not get to a ship that wasn't sinking? Or maybe they just wanted to get their iron beak/ram into our hull and drag us down with them. Either way it was something I had to put a stop to.

"Fluttershy, get an angle on them where I can get a clear view of their props and as near as you dare!"

Her teeth were clenched hard, her jaw muscles knotted, and she didn't reply. Her hooves flew, and Nebula's engine pods rotated, turning us quickly while I undid the knots holding the main yard to the secured spars on the main deck.

"Sticks and stones," I muttered to myself as I strained to lift the heavy wooden beam. "Sophisticated fighter, I am."

Sophisticated or not, it worked. I didn't get the thick timber directly onto target because my strength gave out before I could place it exactly. But when my magic field flickered and went out, the yard had pierced the middle rudder and it swung down into the lower rudder and props. The weight of it falling did a satisfying amount of damage before it worked loose and fell away.

Only one of the big propellers on the starboard side survived, and the thrust from it started swinging the airship on an uncontrolled curve. Unfortunately it was turning to put the bow straight into our beam.

I didn't yell to Fluttershy to get us away from the crippled craft because she was already doing that. I could see that the battleship's bow would clear us by a half dozen lengths, and I didn't want to interfere with Nebula's ability to maneuver, so I didn't give the order for the starboard engines to drop. That was a mistake I would sorely regret.

The yetis weren't giving up. A spray of crossbow bolts with some catapult shafts mixed in peppered Nebula's waist. I saw a couple of snap-shields pop up, deflecting some of the bolts, but there were also shouts of alarm and a couple cries of pain from the crew before they dove behind whatever cover they could find.

The volley from the yeti ship was to cover the group that ran out onto the ship's metal beak swinging grappling hooks. Four of the hooks thudded into our rail and bit deep. A fifth hook's line fouled our number four prop, and Fluttershy shut down the engine as the line wound tightly around the shaft. The yetis started pulling themselves in as their comrades kept them covered with shields.

Catapult and net-thrower shots took out some of the yetis, but there were always more to replace them, and they steadily got closer.

Rainbow Dash streaked by, her cutlass flashing. The grappling lines twanged and vibrated like guitar strings but didn't part. I suspected wire cores because Nebula's were made that way. A rope-cutter bolt fired from the fo'c'sle deck hit one and spun off, confirming my guess. I hate it when my enemies are competent.

"Boarding axes!" I yelled, "Chop those hooks free!"

Landslide and Hawser, who had on heavy breastplates and helmets, ran to the rail and began hacking away. I didn't have enough magic left to do much, but I could still cock and reload a crossbow quickly and I gave them as much cover as I could.

A huge yeti with a heavy iron maul leaped from the end of the beak, heading for our rail where Landslide and Hawser frantically chopped away, and I could see that he would make it.

Or he would have made it if he hadn't taken an unexpected shot to the face. His feet landed on the rail, but he dropped his maul and clawed at the steaming-hot, sticky mess that had suddenly covered his helmet. He lost his balance, toppled backward, and disappeared from view.

I looked to the fo'c'sle deck where Pinke was hefting two more freshly baked apple pies. Her demented smile was a comfort to me.

Part of the rail broke beneath one hook with a thunderous crack, and that end of the section pulled away from the bulwark, but stuck against the main shrouds. The yeti ship had been constantly dumping ballast to stay aloft, but she was losing the fight, and the weight of her slowly sinking hull loading onto the grappling lines sharply canted Nebula's deck.

Something would give very soon, and everyone knew it. The yetis gave up trying to haul themselves closer and they all came at us all in a rush, leaping for our deck.

The anti-boarding netting was tangled in the broken rail and couldn't be raised in time, so Ket and Sherbet tried to derail the charge by boiling out from behind our bulwarks, screeching and hissing from their many jagged-fanged mouths, flailing and lashing out with tentacles lined with venom-dripping spikes and stingers.

Tempest had gotten an angle on the yetis and added a good shot that spattered around the edges of their leading shields as their tight formation loosened up in confusion at what seemingly awaited them. Between that and the collisions caused by shock, a lot of the mob of yetis went overboard, but the leading bunch, in the merciless embrace of inertia, made the leap to our deck.

The first met the flashing whirlwind of Rarity's needles. The second got double-teamed by Zepherine and Star Dance. Star Dance distracted him with a showy flourish of her cutlasses, and Zeph executed a perfect capriole that added to his headlong rush and propelled him clear across the main deck and over the larboard rail. The third met me, and I was not kind to him. My magic might have been nearly drained, but I can hold my blades in hoof or wing well enough.

"Surrender! You've got one chance!" I yelled, hoping they all understood Equuish. Tempest repeated my command in their language, and Sherbet and Ket helped convince them by hissing and looming menacingly. The yetis didn't know that the changelings were far more fragile than they appeared and dodged away from them. To them, the little ponies in the middle must have looked like easier targets.

The deck was a confused tangle of fighting for a few more seconds. Tempest shot one of the yetis right in the face, still shouting, and Hawser finished him off with his boarding ax when he fell. I dropped a second, dodging forward under his downward smashing strike to get my short swords up under his ribs around the edge of his breastplate. Two more died under the blades of a veritable swarm of Nebulas, and the rest backed away from the fight and surrendered.

We had gotten the survivors face-down on the deck, huge clawed hands laced behind their heads while the crew roped them up, when Nebula's deck jerked under our hooves. The shattered rail ripped out a section of ratlines as Applejack kicked it loose.

Then came a second jolt accompanied by a painfully loud metallic screech, and I looked over what was left of the rail just in time to see half of our number four engine, still tangled in the boarding line, tear away from the pod and follow the burning yeti ship to the ground.

"Fates damnit," I swore as I watched the flaming mess fall all the way down. In a blessed bit of good luck, it landed in a field and across an irrigation ditch instead of on any of the little homes or barns scattered across the rich farmland below us. The engine crystal detonating was barely a bright spark amid the general conflagration.

The freight train had stopped at a cluster of grain silos southeast of the gorge. The train crew and all the farm ponies that had pulled their wagons up to the depot were still and silent, muzzles turned toward the burning wreckage.

I also noticed three parachutes drifting downward, carried by the wind in the direction of the silos.

Surrender or death. Escape was not an option when it meant innocent ponies would be put in danger.

"Fliers!" I yelled, pointing a dripping blade at the parachutes. "Drop those things!"

When Spike dove over the side, I instantly regretted the order. Dash should have done it. Ao would have enjoyed doing it. But Spike… My baby brother? I tried to summon the Royal Voice to call him back, but my magic sputtered and I choked on it. The parachute canopies blossomed with green fire and dropped like stones. Ao was at my side a moment later, but it was too late.

Spike landed back on the deck next to me and carefully folded his wings along his back. He didn't say anything. I didn't say anything. There was no reason to say anything.

= = =

=

Author's Note

There was a moment for doubt, but that wasn't it.

Size Comparison

I owe a huge debt of gratitude to Jordanis for fixing the tone of this battle. There was a delicate balance to be achieved, and he gave me a much-needed shove when I was about to topple over.

26 Running Low

Chapter Twenty Six - Running Low

I made sure the yetis were trussed up tightly, and headed below to check on the wounded.

Dr. Woundwort's tarpaulin-covered table had a distressing amount of blood on it, but thankfully, none of the wounded ponies lying on mats against the aft bulkhead seemed to be in really bad shape.

"Any serious cases?" I asked the doctor.

"Ms. Zabaa's right foreleg was very badly broken and she won't be fit for duty for a week. She shouldn't put any weight on it for at least two days. Ms. Lucky Charm will need to have her pupillary response checked every hour for the next three watches. She took a nasty knock and was out for over a minute. Ms. Whirlwind took a crossbow bolt through her left avian scapula and the wound had to be cauterized. She should be given light duty for a week with no flying for at least one more. All the others are simple abrasions, contusions, and shallow lacerations."

He looked thoughtful for a moment and added, "Ms. Rain Storm needed me to remove an iron pile point that had lodged in her right acetabulum, displacing the femoral head, which, by all indications, was extremely painful. After the extraction, she required no further treatment, so the wound could only be called serious in the moment."

Ouch. "Thank you, doctor. Some of the ponies still on deck have injuries and they'll be coming down for treatment as soon as they can."

"What about you, Captain?" He gestured toward my forelegs.

"What?" I looked down. "Oh, this isn't mine. I…" But there was a sharp pain in my right leg as I gestured. I pushed up my sleeve and found the wound with glittering crystal shards embedded in it. "Oh, the gem that popped. I guess you should take those fragments out."

Dr. Woundwort raised an eyebrow, sighed, and floated over a pair of forceps from his tray of instruments. "Leg up, Captain."

He worked quickly and efficiently, as he always did, and when he'd finished wrapping a bandage around my leg, he put down the forceps, looked up at the top of the grating, and called out, "Next!"

I went over to talk briefly with the wounded ponies. We had gotten off very lightly, considering.

"What hit you, Lucky?" I asked, a little bit amazed that she had been wounded at all. I suppose it wouldn't be called "wild" magic if it was consistent and predictable.

"Zab says it was a catapult shot that spun off the main mast and hit me sideways with the shaft," she told me. "I didn't see it. Honestly, I don't even remember it happening. One minute I was watching the battleship closing in, and the next I woke up down here. The doctor says I won't even have a cool scar, just this." She brushed her mane aside and turned so I could see the big lump on the back of her skull.

"You should be fine in a day or two," I told her, and turned to the little zebra mare. "And how are you, Zabaa? Much pain?"

"Hapana, ma'am," she replied, shyly ducking her head. "The honored mganga told me it will, perhaps, ache for a time, but nothing so great."

"Pumzika vizuri, Zabaa. Zenobia would never forgive me if I brought her favorite niece back to her with a limp. I will have cots set up in the captain's cabin for you two where you will be pampered for a few days."

I talked with Whirlwind next. Most of her body from shoulders to hips was tightly wrapped in white linen, which looked impressive but was mostly to keep her wing stabilized.

"Doc's blisterin' good, Captain! I came down here bleedin' like a firehose and thinkin' my wing was gonna fall off, and he zapped and stitched me up in no time. That little happy-time spell's pretty sweet, too. I am feelin' no pain!"

"Glad to hear it. I'll put you in with Zabaa and Lucky for a couple of days. Please don't teach them to swear, okay?"

She laughed at that, thinking I was joking. "No need for me lazin' around, Captain. My legs and teeth are workin' just fine."

"Oh?" I raised an eyebrow at her. I'm sure I didn't do it as well as the Doctor did, but I think I got my point across. I pointed a hoof to the forward grating where blood was dripping through, fouling the deck below. "Eager to jump up and join in the clean-up crew?"

"Uh… Well, maybe I could use a little bit of rest."

I checked on the rest of the wounded crew and then went back on deck. Things were well in hoof. Tempest suggested the prisoners be physically separated by barrels and crates in the cargo hold and a pony posted to keep watch on them constantly. I agreed and gave the order.

I had a word with Pinkie, making sure that she encouraged the crew to drink as much water and fruit juice as they could. I also asked her to set out good hoof-food on the galley serving table for anyone to help themselves.

"There's lots of apple pie left over!" she said with a slightly lopsided grin.

I grinned back at her. "I hear it was a big hit."

Sacred Stars, I love it when she has a fit of the giggle-shrieks.

I had Landslide, Hawser, and Half Hitch move the dead yetis out of the way and strip their armor off. We would dump them over the side when we crossed the Everfree. I assumed the carnivorous denizens of the forest would be puzzled but happy with the sudden windfall.

I noticed that Hawser's breastplate had a deep dent in one side.

"Did you get hit, Mr. Hawser?"

"Yes, Captain! Catapult shot just as I came up to the rail." He turned and pointed at the thick shaft that was sticking out of the break of the fo'c'sle deck. "Skipped right off. I think there's gonna be a big bruise under the armor, but it's better than getting skewered."

Landslide looked around the deck. "Where's Whirlwind? I could use her help cutting out the broken section of rail."

"Your assistant will be off duty for a few days." After seeing his expression of concern, I added, "She'll be fine if she gets some proper rest. Ask Ket to assign you somepony else who would like to learn some ship's carpentry."

On to another much less pleasant task, I gathered up Clove Hitch in my wake and headed to the rail by the number four engine mount. Ralf was already there making some notes in his little book and shaking his head sadly.

"How bad is it, Mr. Ralf?"

He snapped his notebook shut and turned to face me, ears and tail drooping. "No repair possible, Captain. Engine spar is twisted out of line, too, so he has to be replaced or straightened. Ralf has plenty spare parts and stock, but can't build whole new engine. Nebula will limp on three legs until she puts into a shipyard."

"Is there anything you can do?"

He nodded. "Ralf can demount the spar so he doesn't cause drag, and strip down poor number four carcass for parts. And—" He leaned sideways and pointed up at our starboard steering fin. "—vane needs to be straightened before fabric is patched. Ralf thinks he can do that with help of two ponies. Two, three hours, maybe?"

"Ms. Clove, see that Mr. Ralf gets whatever he needs, and then get Half Hitch and Applejack on splicing those main shrouds." I turned and went up to the quarterdeck. "Fluttershy, keep her ticking over at dead slow so we have steerage while the repairs are made."

She spread her wings and closed her eyes for a second. "There's a fresh north west wind. At dead slow, Nebula will lose ground."

I silently cursed, borrowing one of Whirlwind's favorite phrases that I wouldn't dare say aloud. "Can't be helped. Just keep her steady until the repair crews have their hooves back on the planks."

"Aye-aye, Captain. I'll put her head-to-wind and bring both fins down so the one will be easier to work on."

"Good. Do that," I told her. "And by the way, that was a brilliant move with that fin. Good thinking."

Fluttershy smiled. "Just Nebula taking care of her ponies."

I looked around and saw Spike carrying big netted bottles of juice to the crew working on deck.

"Spike! Can you bring your scribe kit up here? I need to send some messages."

"Aye-aye, Captain!" He slung the bottles over a belaying pin on the main fife rail where ponies could help themselves and went down below.

While I waited, I checked with Ao in the cupola. She reported no other ships sighted, yeti or otherwise.

Spike trotted up a moment later with his little kit, and got out parchment and quill. "Ready, Captain!"

I hesitated and cleared my throat. "Um… Are you okay, Spike?"

He looked up at me and grinned. "Sure! I took this—" He held up his left wing and I could see two neat little stitches closing a small tear in the primary membrane. "—from a crossbow bolt, but it's nothing. Doesn't even hurt."

I felt a second of irrational anger. Someone shot at my baby brother? I would… I would do nothing. The yeti who had taken the shot was probably half-embedded in the potato field below us. I realized that Spike was staring at me with concern.

"Are you okay, Twi?"

"I'm sorry I brought you into this, Spike."

"Huh? Into what?"

"This!" I waved a hoof at the bloody main deck. "Fighting, risking your life, even—killing."

Spike was quiet for a moment and then he put down his quill. "They would have killed us. We had to do it."

"I know, I know, but I didn't have to drag you into it."

He was silent for a long time, and when I opened my mouth again, he cut me off with a single word. "Don't."

"But—"

"Don't! I know exactly what you're thinking, and you're wrong. I've risked my life plenty of times before this, and I'm not a kid anymore. I'm tougher than you think." He seemed to be grasping for something else to say. Finally, he put his hand gently on my shoulder, and said quietly, "I go where you go."

It wasn't comforting. It was the opposite of comforting. It wasn't just the danger, it was how I responded to it. I seemed to be constantly edging closer to being a truly awful, murderous brigand, hoofstep by logical hoofstep, and if Spike followed me down into darkness…

I jerked my head up as Spike flicked his quill across my muzzle. "First message goes to who?" he asked.

"To whom," I corrected automatically. Then, "You did that on purpose, didn't you?"

He gave me an apologetic half-smile and pointed the feather end of his quill at my head, making a twirling motion. "Had to break you out of the loop somehow. See? You need me, Twi."

"I…" I stared at him, suddenly on the verge of tears.

"First message goes to whom?"

I sniffed, closed my eyes, and took a deep breath. "Celestia first, but all of these will have the same report on the action we just fought, so maybe a pantograph spell for the first part…" I called on my magic and felt a wave of nausea wash over me. "Ugh. Or maybe not."

"Are you okay, Twi?"

"Just tired. Okay, exhausted, but I've got to let the others know what our situation is."

"I don't mind making copies. Go ahead."

I dictated the letters and Spike sent them on their way. Unsurprisingly, I received a reply from Celestia before our repairs were completed.

Some other yeti ships had been sighted across northern Equestria, all of them heading away from the Yaket range. One had crashed near Hollow Shades, and the town militia had fought with the survivors. Most of the yetis had escaped into the woods and were being hunted by a guard unit from Fillydelphia.

There had been other incidents, but most of the battleships bypassed towns and cities, heading south as fast as possible.

Only two of Celestia's scouts had reported in from the far north, and neither had been close enough to Mt. Everhoof to provide any concrete information about what had happened to the yeti fleet up there. All they could tell her was that some sort of powerful magical "event" had taken place. They hadn't seen anything, but they'd felt it.

Celestia outlined a couple of scenarios for me. If I felt I needed to get to the Crystal Empire as soon as possible, she would send an air chariot and have relay teams sent out from Cloudsdale to relieve the pegasus guards along the way.

If I wanted the girls with me, she would have an express train meet us at Ponyville.

In any case, a chariot was on its way with a supply of fully charged gems to use as I saw fit.

Being a monarch sure does smooth over a lot of life's little bumps.

I sent her a reply asking for the train to be made ready and called Ao down to the quarterdeck.

I explained the new plan. She was furious with me, but only the tips of her barbels gave her away. She spoke calmly and softly. "When danger threatens, this one's place is by the Captain's side."

"Ao, there is no one else I trust to do this. Rendezvous with Black Fang, take command of both ships, and follow us up. I need to know I don't have to be looking over my shoulder while I'm busy with the latest brainless eater, and you're the only one I'm sure will get the job done."

I know that I may have portrayed my trusted friend and First Officer as a ruthless and violent sort of creature (which, make no mistake, she was) but she was also incredibly smart and a brilliant tactician. She understood my reasoning, even if she didn't like it.

"It will be as you say, Majesty. However, if you come to any grievous harm in this one's absence, this one will express utmost displeasure in a manner which Your Majesty may find somewhat distasteful." That may sound like an underwhelming threat, but from Ao, it sent a chill down my spine. I did not ask for details.

I called the officers to the quarterdeck and formally handed over command.

When the repairs were complete, Fluttershy ran up the engines to three quarters ahead until she got the feel of the patched fin and the missing engine, then she went to full ahead and called Mr. Hawser and Ensign Sherbet to the quarter deck to talk them through how to treat poor wounded Nebula as they steered her northward.

Luna's message arrived as we were crossing the western arm of the Everfree. I had just unsealed the scroll, when Ao called out to the ponies who were preparing to heave the yeti bodies overboard.

"Belay that! Clean them up but leave them where they are."

The crew ponies stared for a second or two and then got to work.

I didn't ask.

Dearest Twilight,

I am so very happy to hear of your little adventure, and I am frankly jealous of your chance to once again directly and firmly express your displeasure to the invading barbarians.

I regret that poor Nebula was damaged and that some of her crew were hurt, but in a fight against a battleship the cost seems remarkably light. Please convey my admiration and congratulations to your heroic crew. As the battle happened over Equestrian soil, I will see to it that their valiant effort is suitably recognized.

We are nearing the pass through the Crystal Mountains and I will have my navigator put down the longitude and latitude of the little valley where we will anchor Midnight. She will be hidden well enough, should she be needed for an ambush, but I will continue on to the Empire with a few provisions to provide young Cadance with reassurance and support.

I ache to see you, and each second until we meet again will seem an eternity.

All my love,

Luna

At a rough estimate, Cady's reply wouldn't reach us for another two hours or so. I spent the time inspecting the repairs, talking with the crew, and packing a small sea bag of essentials. I was going north as Princess Twilight, not Captain Blackmane, but I took my greatcoat and blades anyway. And yes, I cleaned the blood off first.

The Castle of Friendship was hull-up, and Nebula was starting to descend when Spike spit out the scroll from Cadance.

Her letter was a bit unfocused and fragmentary, which worried me, but she obviously had a lot on her mind and was under incredible stress. Allowances had to be made.

I wrote out a quick note updating her on the plan and giving her a rough estimate of our time of arrival in the Empire. Spike sent it rippling away on the wind.

The promised delivery of gems was waiting for us at Ponyville Station where a very large locomotive pulling two long passenger cars sat on the tracks, steaming. Spike very pointedly hefted the chest of gems using only one hand and preceded me into the car. I thanked the Royal Guards who had delivered it and followed him in.

Sometimes Celestia likes to make a point in a very indirect but startling way, and I had to assume that this was one of those occasions. She had sent us a luxury sleeper/parlor car and the waiting attendant assured us that there was a five-star chef onboard that would prepare whatever meals we required.

Rarity shouldered past me with an avaricious expression blossoming on her face. "Is there a bath?"

"Of course, Your Majesty! In the next car. It is a rather small whirlpool by your standards of course, but it is the best that could be arranged within our limitations. Shall I have the esthetician prepare the tub for you?"

I have never been able to adequately represent in print most of Rarity's idiosyncratic vocalizations, and the shriek/moan/trill of delight she answered the steward with is no exception.

"Well, that's Rares taken care of," said Applejack. "Me, I'd like to get on the outside of some good grub."

The rest of us all agreed, and the consensus was that, as long as the food was hot, high in calories, and kept coming, we didn't care what it was.

Spike had taken the chest of gems and put it in a curtained-off compartment at the forward end of the car. "I thought you might want a little privacy to work with these," he told me.

"Good thinking. I'm going to sort through them to find the best ones to keep as backups, and the best ones to absorb. That process isn't exactly pleasant-looking so I'm sure the girls will appreciate not having to watch."

I got right to work, and the next thing I knew, Spike was setting a covered serving dish down on the table next to me.

"The steward said this was sent down from Canterlot under a stasis spell for you and me," Spike told me.

There was a little folded card on the lip of the platter. I lifted it up and there were only three quill-written words on it; With love, Mom.

I broke the seal and the amazing scent of Mom's special spaghetti recipe flooded the compartment. There was an enormous mound of steaming noodles and sauce under the domed cover, and we ate every single bit of it. Spike even licked the platter like he had done when he was very young.

It always astounds me how strong sense memories can be. I sat back on my cushion in a warm haze of happy remembrance. I hadn't intended to fall asleep, but taken together, my full belly and my exhaustion were too much to resist and I drifted off.

= = =

=

Author's Note

27 The Thief of Magic

Chapter Twenty Seven - The Thief of Magic

I woke to the smell of coffee. Very good coffee.

I had a single moment of happiness, snuggled up warm in my bunk, before I remembered where I was, and spit out an expletive more appropriate for a pirate ship than a private train car.

Spike awoke with a start and a snarl from where he had been curled up on the floor next to my bunk.

The steward with the carafe of Tanzebran coffee took a short step back, but otherwise didn't seem bothered by our abrupt awakening.

"Forgive me, Your Highness," he said quietly. "Sir Spike asked that you both be awakened an hour out from Empire Station. May I place your coffee on the table?"

"Yes. Sorry. What time is it?"

"Four hours past midnight, Highness."

After a big mug of coffee, I felt half-way equine again. I finished absorbing energy from the crystals (a process that dinner had interrupted) and felt even better.

Spike held up the last little tourmaline that had been a pleasant pink before I'd drained it. "Mind if I eat this? I'm curious about something."

I shrugged. "Go ahead."

He tossed the dull gray gem into his mouth and bit down. After only one tentative crunch, he grimaced and spat the fragments out on the floor. "Eugh! That's—nasty!"

I shrugged. "The spell is technically dark magic, so that's not a surprise. Still an interesting effect, though. Remind me to drain and then recharge one, and have you do another taste-test when we get the chance." I opened the little louvered window over my bunk and floated the mess outside.

I dashed off quick notes to Celestia and my parents. I thanked Her Highness for the "salubrious" accommodations. Yes, I really used that word, and I was hoping she'd read the note while sipping tea and maybe snort some through her nose. I thanked Mom for the wonderful meal and assured both her and Dad that I was having a great time playing pirate, meeting all sorts of interesting new people, and would write more when I got the chance.

The enchanted smoke went out the same window as the gob of chewed tourmaline.

Then I dug the saddle bags from my sea bag and flopped them on the bunk, folding up the covering flaps to reveal the rows of little pockets. "Help me sort the rest of the gems, will you? You take that side. Tuck them in as snuggly as you can. I have no idea what sort of acrobatics I might have to go through, and I don't want any falling out."

"The gem pockets in your coat have little flaps over them," Spike observed.

"Yes, but I'm too big to fit into my coat now, and these bags were made for transport, not combat. We'll have to make do."

"Nonsense, Darling!" Rarity's chirpy voice was entirely too cheerful for the Celestia-forsaken hour, but it was welcome, nevertheless. "I can sew a little strip of fabric across the top of each row of pockets which will do nicely."

"Aren't your needles too big for this job?" It was a somewhat feeble attempt at a joke and, unsurprisingly, it didn't land at all.

Rarity sighed and gave me a side-eye. "In your current state, you can hardly criticize anything for being oversized, dear. Full of borrowed magic, are we?"

Spike grinned at her and prodded me in the chest with a foreclaw. "Crude, but effective."

That got a titter out of Rarity. I have no idea why; my joke was objectively more clever. I think they were just ganging up on me for the fun of it.

The others were stirring too, and the steward bustled back in with more coffee and tea. All of us had a simple, hearty breakfast of pancakes, except for Rarity who ordered Eggs Barraquand. I had no idea what the dish was, but the chef evidently did, and the noises Rarity made while eating were strong evidence that the meal was much more than satisfactory.

"This is the most heavenly Bardigiano sauce I have ever tasted!" Rarity said to the steward. "May I personally give my compliments to the chef?"

The steward's expression fell and he apologetically said, "I am afraid not, Your Majesty."

Rarity stared at him for a moment in shock. "Wh… Whyever not?"

"Orders," the steward said, and levitated a small cream-colored, gold-edged note card out of his apron pocket and placed it before Rarity. The note was sealed with a sun-in-splendor, the mark of Celestia's personal correspondence.

Rarity stared at it. We all leaned in.

"Go on, Rarity! Open it!" Rainbow Dash urged her.

Rarity broke the seal and unfolded the note. There were six beautifully calligraphed words on the card: "He's mine. You can't have him."

Applejack whooped in delight. "Boy howdy, has Celestia got your number, Rares!"

When I say that Rarity was speechless, I don't mean she was silent, and the eloquence of her vocalizations perfectly expressed her outrage.

That bit of foolery raised all of our spirits, and when the train pulled into Empire Station, it seemed that there was a bit of lightness in our steps.

The full platoon of Crystal Guards that met us on the platform sobered our mood a bit.

We were ushered into a line of carriages which set off for the palace at a canter. We passed through a permeable shield at the outskirts of the city.

Cadance met us in the entrance hall, and I shared a brief, tight hug with her.

"Has anyone actually seen Grogar yet?" I asked as I let her go.

Cadance looked a bit surprised. "We don't really know what it is that—"

"Reasonable assumption," I hated to cut her off, but I had no idea how much time we had before we'd be in a desperate fight, and I didn't want to waste a second. "Curling ram's horns, magic-eater, and this—" I floated over one of the copied archive documents that Celestia had forwarded to me. "—is a fragment of a letter from Gusty's son, mentioning the Bewitching Bell being 'sealed in a cavern in the far north.' It all adds up."

Cadance nodded slowly as she read. "I remember reading you the story of Gusty the Great and Grogar when you were a filly. In that version, the bell was shattered, wasn't it?"

"Supposedly, but pre-Discordian history is mostly myth and wishful-thinking. It may turn out to be something else, but the bell being used as some sort of essence-storing taewidha is my working hypothesis right now. I'm thinking that the yetis got hold of it and accidentally released him."

"That seems more likely than that they woke up some other existential threat with ram's horns," Cadance admitted. "Do you have a plan for dealing with him?"

"Well…" I gestured at Spike and the girls.

"You're not just hoping that the Magic of Harmony will manifest at the exact moment you need it, are you?"

"I admit that that's Plan A, but I have a few other ideas, too.[1]"

[1] Twenty-seven, to be precise.

Cadance carefully looked me over. "I'm assuming that sheer brute force is one of the options?"

"Just a side-effect of Tirek's spell. I used power gems, not ponies," I added when she grimaced slightly.

She nodded and pointed a hoof at the ceiling. "Shiny is up there, just below the beacon spire, powering the shield. It's just at maintenance level right now, but he's ready to pour more magic into it at a moment's notice. Is there anything I can do?"

"Just keep Flurry near you when things start happening. If we can't stop Grogar, or whoever it is, you need to keep her safe. Get to Canterlot and tell Celestia what happened."

She looked down for a moment and sighed. "I've stationed Sunburst inside her room with a big preset teleport crystal. He can take her straight to a secure room in Canterlot castle if things go badly."

"But—"

"I can't abandon my ponies."

She was right, of course. Big, glitzy tiaras are more costly than pirate masks. I gave her another big hug.

A Crystal Guardpony stepped into the room and announced," Princess Luna and Sultan Xahjir."

Rarity and her husband embraced as well as they were able to, Xahjir being dressed in full armor.

Luna and I had the same difficulty, but we had done it so many times that I knew just how to fit myself to her steel-clad form. I had to adapt a bit to account for my bigger, bulkier form, but the kiss was just perfect.

Luna backed up a step and looked me over. "Why, little Twilight! The last time I saw you you were only this tall!" She held out an armored hoof about belly-height above the floor.

I rolled my eyes and chuckled. "And will be again, I suspect."

She gave me an evil grin and said in a low (but not low enough) voice, "Not before I get a chance to be the little spoon, I hope."

Rainbow Dash and Applejack gave each other a less than innocent side-eye. Thankfully, before our behavior became completely inappropriate for a royal reception hall, another guard burst into the room, supporting a panting and wounded pegasus.

"He's coming!" the pegasus gasped out.

"How far?" I asked.

"Five leagues up the vale—maybe closer by now."

"Any other forces?"

The poor pony slumped a bit after shaking his head, and Cadance sent for her physician. "Airships… A few airships near Everhoof, but they're anchored."

I turned to Dash. "Looks like we should try a Rainboost, but I'm kinda heavy right now. You up for it?"

Dash snorted. "Have you met me?"

"Alright then. Girls, get to your positions on the plaza. If we can't stop him before he gets to the shield, we'll fall back and join up with you on the leylines."

Luna cleared her throat.

I turned to her and smiled. "I know how you love charging straight in, but the Bewitching Bell—"

"Please, love," Luna held up a hoof to cut me short. "I know when subtlety is called for, and I intend to support your attack, not supplant it."

"We will be moving very, very fast, trying to stay out of the way of the bell, ourselves."

"Neither will I encumber your efforts, lover." Her smile was sweet and gentle and absolutely inflexible.

I had to be satisfied with that. Well—that, and another little kiss.

= = =

We spotted him a long way off because he was absolutely gigantic. His coat may not have been black, but the miasma of dark magic fumes that exuded from his coarse, hairy pelt made it look that way. His horns were so big that it seemed miraculous that he could lift his head at all. If inertia and the inverse-square law hadn't been negated by his magic, that would have been a big advantage for us.

The bell was—weird. In my magesight, it roiled with magical energy, of course, but it wasn't in the sort of configuration I had expected. I have dealt with uncounted[2] amulets, taewidha, and the like, and even created several, but nothing like the thick ugly bell that hung around the monster's neck.

[2] That is, of course, hyperbole. I have counted them all, and analyzed and recorded all of their notable characteristics.

But the bell was familiar somehow.

We got closer than I thought we would before Grogar noticed us. His head came up and his eyes narrowed. I felt the inceptive pulse of his magic and yelled "Go!" to Dash an instant before a red-hot beam of energy passed through the space where we had been. I was right behind her, using my forward stretched wings to connect to her incredibly powerful thaumic flight field as she streaked away, nearly vertically. I was pulled along in her wake.

I disconnected myself and went ballistic as Dash changed course again, and folded my wings away to damp down my flight field. Grogar kept tracking Dash's chromatic vapor trail, blasting away twice more, and still not leading his target nearly enough.

Rainbow Dash began jinking all over the sky, changing course every few seconds as the gigantic ram began to realize her speed and attempted to correct his aim. The brute was burning through power at a rapid pace, becoming angry and frustrated as he continued to miss his target, which was just what I wanted.

I neared the top of my parabolic arc and triggered my carefully crafted combination spell. It took a huge percentage of the mana I had ingested, but I wasn't going to give Grogar even the hint of a fair chance. I teleported a nice 20-ton tetrahedron of solid granite out of the nearby towering mountain and spun it up until the tips of the shape were only barely subsonic, all within a sound-deadening bubble.

Normal gravity had been dragging it downward for the few seconds it took to really get spinning, and that was just a bonus, but it wasn't falling anywhere near fast enough, so I pumped as much inertia as I could into it, and then tripled the gravity below the giant beast.

Grogar had some magical bypass of the normal laws of physics or he wouldn't have been able to stand up, but the sudden change did stagger and distract him. His attention was recaptured only a moment later as the shrieking stone missile struck him between the shoulder blades.

It passed straight through him, scattering most of his body in a circular spray of blood and small fragments and then struck the earth with enough energy to create a substantial fountain of molten rock and debris.

I sighed and unfolded my wings, falling into a shallow glide away from the impact site. Dash swooped down to my side a moment later. "Not gonna lie, Twi. That was pretty awesome! Up high!" She held up one wing, expecting me to give her a feather slap while flying.

Not wanting to tumble ungracefully from the sky, I told her, "When we're on the ground, showoff!"

"You're calling me a showoff? That's a laugh!" True to her assertion, she laughed her head off, and I joined in, gleefully.

We stopped laughing when a bright blaze of light suddenly showed through the column of dense smoke where Grogar had stood.

"What the heck is that?" Dash asked

Unfortunately, from the feel of the magic pulse, I instantly knew what it was, and why the bell had seemed so familiar. It wasn't an amulet or taewidha at all. It wasn't even metal. The metal was heavily ensorcelled, yes, but it was only a protective casing; the actual artifact within was made of crystal.

It was an engine.

Grogar reformed out of his constituent pieces, screaming in rage.

"Go, Dash, go!" I yelled. "Evasive. Back to the—"

She knew the first backup plan as well as I did, and she jinked over in front of me and pulled me along, accelerating at a rate that made me think she might pull my wings out of their sockets.

A blast hit the mountainside behind us and the shock wave shook us like a hyperactive foal's rattle. Dash straightened us out just in time for another blaze of energy to pass right in front of us. Grogar was zeroing in.

Dash rolled and spun, diving down to weave in behind some of the smaller peaks of the Yaket range on the way back to the Empire.

One of those peaks exploded in front of us, depriving us of cover as I popped a spindle shaped shield up around us to protect us from the granite shards. Despite the aerodynamic shape of the shield, it still caused some drag, and Dash's vapor trail could easily be seen in the pre-dawn light.

Two more blasts followed, each of which nearly got us. The ends of our manes and tails curled and smoked from the heat even through my shield. I considered trying to shuck my saddlebags so that we could safely teleport away, but even an instant's hesitation or slowdown…

"We're not gonna make it, Twi!" Dash yelled back to me. "You go on, and I'll distract—"

"No! I'm not going to—"

Grogar screamed.

It wasn't rage. It was agony. I felt the pulse of the bell as it came to life again, and the huge monster spun away from us, rearing and then crashing down to viciously trample the earth.

"What the…?"

I smiled. It was a grim, vicious, and loving smile. "Luna," I said. "She's buying us time. Go, go, go!"

Dash went.

An enraged, painful scream echoed down the valley again, followed by another restorative pulse from the engine.

"He's got a crystal doohickey, right?" Dash asked as she flew flat out and straight as an arrow. "Like mine?"

"Yeah," I gasped.

"Can't you, like, do something?"

I didn't have the breath to shout a detailed answer, and I wasn't going to waste any precious mana on the Royal Voice, so I just said, "Working on it."

That seemed to satisfy Dash.

The third tormented bellow and following wave of mana was faint and light behind us as we streaked in over the outlying roads of the Empire.

I let go of Rainbow Dash as she swooped down to an acrobatic landing next to the anode plinth where the Crystal Heart hovered and spun slowly.

I skidded over the slick crystal slabs of the plaza and floundered to an ungraceful stop.

Spike and the rest of the girls were waiting there, as arranged, along with what seemed to be most of the Crystal Empire's military.

"So—" Spike said, lifting an eye ridge, "—Plan B?"

"No. No, there is no plan for this." I shook my head savagely. "He's got an incredible weapon. But it must have been broken somehow. Gusty did it, and the yetis must have—repaired it somehow? It activated and rebuilt Grogar; that has to be what happened!"

Xahjir stepped forward, a worried frown on his face. "Princess—"

Spike stepped in front of him and held up his hand. "Please, Your Majesty. Let her think."

"Dash!" I yelled. I had an idea. It might only be a stop-gap, but it was something.

"Right here, Twi!"

I popped a little sound deadening spell around us. I wanted Dash to be able to speak freely. "That catapult shot. It stuck in your hip, right?"

Dash jerked back. She hadn't expected the question or the ugly memory it brought up. "Uh… Yeah. The point, anyway. I tried to pull it out, but the shaft snapped off."

"Hurt a lot?"

"Geeze, Twi! What do you think? It wasn't just the pain, either. My doohickey kept trying to fix me, and it couldn't because the point was still in me. I mean, I guess it kept me alive, but it still hurt, like, a lot, and it felt—freakin' wrong!"

"So bad, all you could do was fly to the doctor?"

"Twi… Don't ever repeat this to anypony, okay? But, like, I couldn't even fly, it was so wrong! I crawled down that grate to the doc and barfed twice on the way. It was, like, a million times worse than when that chopper thing cut me in half."

"What?" I practically screamed. "You got—"

"Yeah, yeah," She waved a dismissive hoof at me. "I didn't see it coming, and whizz-chop-ouch, and It was over and I was fine. No big deal. But, that point…" She shuddered.

"Sorry," I said, putting a comforting wing over her shoulders. "Believe it or not, I had a good reason to ask, and your answer is actually good news. You up for one more insane mission?"

She took a deep breath and squared her shoulders. "No problem."

"Good! After the big rock and whatever Luna did to him, Grogar will probably put up a strong shield. But if he's going to directly batter down the city shield like what Cady saw in her vision, he can't have a shield of his own up because of the cushioning effect, so he'll have to drop it right before he strikes. When he does—"

I dropped the little privacy spell and walked over to a pair of Crystal Guardponies. "Pardon me guards, but I need the use of your swords."

= = =

We worked our way out to the edge of the city, keeping behind the cover of buildings as much as we could, until we were just inside of my brother's now fully-powered shield.

The earth shook as Grogar came. He looked a lot bigger from ground level.

"Standing start to full speed: how long?" I whispered to Dash as she got a firm grip on the swords with her forelegs.

"Don't blink," she answered.

Good enough.

Grogar glared down at one of the most powerful shields ever created and sneered. He reared up, his own shield flickered and died, and Dash hit him directly in his right eye.

I teleported Dash out of the socket and we both flew at a sprint for the palace. Behind us, Grogar screamed in time to the futile pulses of his cursed bell.

"You did it, Dash!" I yelled gleefully to her.

"Yep!" She paused to spit out some vitreous humor and then continued. "I felt those swords hit bone after the blades went through. They aren't going anywhere! Maybe if he asks us nicely, Doc Woundwort will pull 'em out for him."

I smiled. "Not even if he says 'please,' Dash."

The group under the palace was staring, horrified, at the gigantic monster thrashing and screaming just beyond the shield.

"Is… Is he dying?" Asked one of the guards who had given me her sword.

"Unfortunately, no," I told her. "But that'll delay him for a bit, and give me more time to think. Has anyone seen Luna?"

"Over here!" called a familiar voice from behind the soldiers. Spike and a medic were kneeling down next to Luna, applying healing crystals and salve to her exposed barrel.

I rushed to her side. "Luna, are you alright?"

She gave me a brilliant smile. "A few broken ribs, naught else! The old goat is a bit faster than one would credit and the dawn light touched my shadow veil at an inconvenient moment."

I breathed a sigh of relief. "I'd hug you, but…"

"A kiss then?"

"You are incorrigible," I said as I leaned down.

"Mmmmmmm, a suitable reward! My distraction sufficed, then?"

"It saved our lives, Luna," I told her flatly. "What did you do?"

Her smile turned sly and evil. She reached out and lovingly touched the shaft of a huge black halberd that was lying beside her. "I made a wether of him—thrice."

Several of the Crystal Guard chuckled, and some of the stallions winced. Applejack actually burst out laughing. "Once is usually enough!" she said.

"Perhaps I performed the operation incorrectly?" Luna asked in a completely phony innocent tone. "I am no student of the veterinary arts."

I frowned in puzzlement. I didn't get the joke. And… AJ knew a word I didn't?

I was about to ask when Rarity called out to me. "Darling?[3]We may have a problem here!"

[3] Yes, she didn't use my name, but all of the Nebulas knew exactly who she was talking to.

I rushed to her side. "Yes?"

"Look at the bell."

It was swinging wildly from Grogar's studded collar, pulsing each time it tried to repair his eye around the embedded swords. But there was something else happening. A thread of power was being pulled up from the ground beneath, growing stronger by the second.

"What is that?"

"Undifferentiated mana," I said, which was a completely accurate answer without being in any way helpful. I thought desperately. "Where is it coming from? Maybe the… The bell's portable—can't store as much mana, so has to replenish through absorption. But what source… Oh, no! Oh this is bad, this is really bad."

"Darling?"

I waved my hoof at the Crystal Heart, slowly spinning above its pedestal. "This whole city is a crystal engine! It's planted right on top of the World Wheel's major peripheral flow and two huge intersecting epicycles; a major leyline nexus. If that bell can draw from this power source… I don't think he's even aware it's happening. Maybe… If…"

"Then, there's no way to stop him?"

Portable. Limited storage. "Maybe one," I said. "Get the girls to their places and everypony else under cover."

She did as I asked without hesitation or question.

"Spike! And you! Yes, you lieutenant!"

"Right here, Twi!" Spike said. The Guard lieutenant trotted over a moment later.

"Spike, when I give you the signal, fly up the other side of the palace to the spire and tell Shiny to drop the shield. Tell him I said so, and don't take no for an answer."

He didn't say anything to me, but looked over my withers at Luna, who had put her armor back on and walked over to stand beside me. "You take care of her, okay?"

"You know I will, Spike," she said.

"Lieutenant…?"

"Calcite, Your Highness."

"Lieutenant Calcite, please go find Princess Cadenza and tell her I need her to spin up the Crystal Heart as soon as the shield goes down. Open the flow channel to the leylines as fast and as wide as possible. I don't have time to explain, but this is critical!"

"Yes, Highness!" He saluted and then galloped off.

The guards didn't want to hide behind the legs of the palace because they were guards, but when I told them it was their duty to protect the Bearers of the Elements of Harmony who were posted near each one, they were convinced. Only the squad that surrounded Fluttershy, who was behind me on the opposite side of the Crystal Heart, were somewhat exposed. I heard Flutters softly telling them not to be afraid, and reassuring them that everything would be alright.

Grogar continued to scream and pound his face against the shield. Not his horns, his face. He was deliberately trying to damage his skull so much that the swords would be dislodged, and it looked like he would manage it soon enough.

Everything was in place, and the glittering shards that were thrown free of Grogar's re-mangled eye socket a moment later were the signal.

"Go now, Spike!"

Grogar took a moment to compose himself, and then focused on the city's shield again. This time when he reared up, he didn't drop his own shield until a fraction of a second before his horns crashed down. The shield rippled and the ground shook.

I spread my legs wide to straddle the leyline and prepared myself. I still had twice the usual amount of mana stuffed into me, and all the backup gems as well. Enough for a good showy first strike.

Grogar slammed the shield again and it went out.

He may have realized that it hadn't broken because of his hammering, but it seemed he didn't really care. The dark mana vapors rose from his back in rippling sheets and his face was twisted up into a snarl of insane rage.

Behind me, I heard the Crystal Heart hum as it sped up. I flared my horn to make sure Grogar saw me and called out, "Hey, big guy! How's the eye?"

That got his attention. When I was sure I was the sole focus of his murderous anger, I unleashed a starfire blast right at his face that could have burned through a fair-sized mountain.

He blocked it easily.

"I can keep this up all day, Crowbar! You wouldn't believe the amount of magic I have!"

Grogar was just the way I like my villains: big, greedy, and stupid. He took the bait, raised one enormous hoof, and struck the Bewitching Bell.

It didn't ring, it shrieked. It twisted the beautiful flow of natural mana into something ugly and dark that wrenched at my essence just as I opened a conduit to the Wheel of the World.

The flow tore through me like a river through a straw. All the powerful mana and stored magic I had left went into keeping the conduit open, feeding more and more power into the bell. I felt my friends join with me, and even the touch of Luna's divine magic. All their strength, all that mysterious and unknowable energy kept the way open for the flood of irresistible power that was the magical essence of our entire planet.

Grogar's eyes went wide when he finally realized his fatal mistake. The Bewitching Bell had been designed to drain a magical power source completely; it had a gigantic, but ultimately limited capacity, and no off switch.

Eat it, you vile, unimaginative thug! You wanted magic? Here it is! Choke on it!

I was barely conscious when the bell and its protective casing overloaded. It exploded into a massive spray of superheated plasma that burned Grogar to a cinder before it screamed upward through the atmosphere on its way to the stars. The aurora crystialis danced in its wake, blazing and shimmering in multi-colored glory even in the brightening morning sky.

That's really pretty, I thought before I passed out.

= = =

=

28 Life Goes On

Chapter Twenty Eight - Life Goes On

I woke to the smell of coffee. Very good coffee.

"Ooh, Spike," I said, before my eyes were fully open and focused. "Can I get a mug of that?"

I blinked a few times before I realized who was in the room with me.

Spike, yes, but also Luna, Ao, and Dr. Woundwort.

Before I could say anything else, the doctor leaned forward and used his horn to shine a light into each of my eyes. "Good. Good. Yes, you are in good shape, Your Highness."

As soon as he leaned away, Luna leaned in for a kiss. It distracted me for a moment, but I needed to know what had happened after the lights went out.

"How long was I unconscious?"

"Two days," Spike told me. "Doctor's orders."

I looked back at Dr. Woundwort, who was putting away his instruments. "Magically induced coma? Was I hurt that badly?"

"No," he said, not looking up. "You were fundamentally uninjured, but suffering from severe exhaustion and dehydration. In my professional opinion, an MIC and direct fluids were the only practical treatment to force you to take a badly needed rest. You are now released from care—Captain."He levitated his bag up, gave me a little nod of his head and walked out of the room.[1]

[1] Doctor Woundwort is brilliant and superbly competent, but he doesn't have a bedside manner, he has a bedside attitude. That's why he was tending to the scrapes and bumps of a privateer's crew rather than overseeing an ER in Canterlot or Manehattan. He is also sneaky. By calling me "Captain" he asserted his legitimate authority over me in medical matters, which would technically have been treason if I was a princess and/or queen.

While I was still gaping after the doctor, Spike held out a crystal mug of coffee for me. I gingerly took it in my magic field. It seemed fine. My horn didn't hurt and my levitation was perfectly steady. I compressed my field down to the surface of the mug and its contents and spun it end over end. Didn't spill a drop.

I sat up and took a sip. The coffee was excellent, and my head didn't swim at all.

"Okay," I said after one more big gulp of coffee. "Fill me in?"

Spike gestured to Ao. "We all drew straws and she won."

"That's because you let her hold the straws," I muttered under my breath.

Ao ignored my comment, even though I knew she'd heard it. She crossed to the curtains at the other side of the bedroom.

Some instinct prevented me from taking another drink of coffee, and I set the mug down on my bedside table. Was there a little curl of disappointment in Ao's barbels? I think there was.

Her antlers glowed, and the curtains drew aside revealing a huge window. Just outside the window, floating right next to the Crystal Palace, was a yeti dreadnought.

There was a blaze of light in the room as I reflexively lit my horn, but it died away as I realized that the Stormguard symbol on the forward end of the ship's armor had been blacked over, and along her bow, in crude whitewashed letters, was written: H.D.M.A.S. BERRYTWIST.

Tempest Shadow was standing on her beakhead, waving in our direction.

"How? What? How did you—" I gasped out.

"To answer your questions in order… One: Primarily by deception," Ao answered, making little check marks in the air with her hoof as she spoke. "Two: It is a captured battleship. Three: Nebula's battle damage and the ranks of friendly yetis waving along her rail convinced the enemy ship to approach incautiously, believing her to be a ship taken by their comrades. Black Fang had been hiding herself close behind Nebula's envelope and swung out to cut off the yetis' retreat. When they were softened up, Ms. Tempest led the boarding party, and this one thought it only fitting to give her the honor of renaming the ship."

"Wait. Ranks of yetis? It wasn't just Ket and Sherbet?"

"No indeed, Captain. While shapeshifting is beyond the abilities of most of Nebula's crew, levitation is more common." She demonstrated by floating and twisting a napkin from the table into a roughly bipedal shape. It waved its misshapen arms. "Hello, friends! Come closer! All is well!"

"You… You puppeted the yeti corpses?"

She put the napkin down. "It was surprisingly effective. That Ms. Tempest spoke their language aided our ruse immeasurably."

I snapped my dangling jaw shut and then asked, "When and where?"

"Yesterday morning. The day before that, with the threat of Grogar very thoroughly removed, if this one may say so, Princess Luna took her ship Midnight to deal with the ones that had moored near the base of Mt. Everhoof. This one will leave it to Her Highness to describe that battle, as she does it so very well."

Luna gave her a little nod of acknowledgement for the compliment. Ao continued, " Ultimately, there was one ship that escaped in the confusion, and she was fleeing southward when she had the misfortune to encounter us at the pass through the Crystal Mountains."

"How are the crew?"

"Quite happy, given the estimated value of the prize."

"I meant wounds, you wiggly maniac!"

"Ah! Well, this one counted the living Nebulas after the battle and it seems that Your Majesty will not need to hire replacements, though Nebula's efficiency will be somewhat lessened while several recuperate."

"Ao!"

She relented. "No crippling wounds, Captain. Recovery for a few will be lengthy, but complete, according to the esteemed doctor."

"Xahjir says that scars are like cutie marks but with more interesting stories," said Rarity, smiling from the doorway. "Ready to receive visitors, dear?"

I hopped out of bed and said, "Can we all talk around a table? I'm starving!"

Rarity gave me a smug smile. "The one in the banquet hall is already prepared, darling."

= = =

We all went down to brunch, and it was a good thing that everypony had so much to catch me up on, because my mouth was never empty enough for me to talk.

Tempest joined us and relayed what the yeti prisoners had told her about the discovery of the Bewitching Bell and their subsequent abject surrender to and/or terrified flight from the terrifying monster they had unwittingly resurrected.

Of the girls, only Fluttershy was missing, because Discord had popped in even before the fragments of Grogar had quit smoldering and whisked her away.

Shiny was there, and he explained what had happened with Flurry Heart. Sunburst had tried to teleport her away when Grogar reached the shield, but herding a little filly who could teleport herself was beyond him. She had been startled awake when the palace shook from the first impact on the shield. Flurry wanted her mommy, and had winked directly to her side. Unfortunately, Cadance was on the north balcony watching Grogar approach, and Flurry had seen the entire grizzly end of the battle. The blaze of Cady's horn as she opened the way to the deep well of power below the palace convinced little Flurry that her mommy had made the Bad Thing go away, but she was still shaken by the experience, and Cadance was not going to leave her daughter's side for quite a while.

The heat of the plasma spray had set fire to almost everything flammable on the edge of the city (which fortunately did not include crystal buildings), and the guard units were still cleaning up the mess left behind. They were still debating about what to do with the enormous charred pieces of hoof and bone that were all that was left of Grogar.

When a structured mana absorption device detonates in a typical[2]way, individual thaumic clusters usually return to their origins according to the Law of Contagion. Simply put, magic stolen from a particular pony will tend to return to that pony.

[2] Yes, I have become an expert on the various flavors of magical explosions despite trying to avoid them as much as possible. That's the world I live in.

According to Sunburst, that wasn't what had happened with the Bell. Because of the umph I had put into destroying the physical container, the magic itself had been propelled into space and was out there swirling around in an unpredictable way. I had to hope that it wouldn't cause any problems in the future, and added another line to my to-do list: Find a way to track that stuff and possibly recapture it.

= = =

I visited the wounded Nebulas after the meal. They and the casualties from Black Fang had been transferred to the Central Imperial Hospital and were being treated very well indeed. As Ao had said, they were all very happy at the anticipated profits from our voyage. Oh, and at having helped to save the world. That, too.

Luna came with me and awarded each of them an Equestrian Order of Valor, and gave them her personal, heartfelt thanks.

Next, I visited my poor wounded Nebula. She had taken a lot more damage in the second fight, but was still floating. The un-or-lightly wounded crew were working on repairs. I flew aboard with Luna and everypony paused and looked up at the quarterdeck.

"Nopony told you heroes to stop working!" I growled at them.

They all grinned and went back to their tasks. Luna and I walked around inspecting the damage and asking questions. The binacle was smashed, and two of the speaking tubes were torn away along with pieces of the rail. From the angle, it looked like a single catapult bolt had done the damage. A stern window had been shattered, and I assumed there was a mess in the great cabin to be cleaned up.

Lots of lines had been cut, but that's typical in any serious engagement and Nebula had a big safety margin in her standing rigging. Envelope rips and tears… Only to be expected. The capstan head was torn up… No, that had been from the previous engagement, I reminded myself. The bowsprit was just gone. The hull was battered and splintered in several places.

Cutie marks with more interesting stories.

The worst of the new damage was to our number one engine. Ralf was out on the strut trying to unbolt the twisted prop housing. The propeller itself was nothing but splintered stubs.

"Shall I disconnect the whole engine and bring it on deck for you Mr. Ralf? It'll be easier to work on here."

"Ah! Thank you Captain, that would be—" He turned to look at me over his shoulder and stammered to a stop. "Ralf means Princess, yes?" Sitting on the engine strut and twisted around, he couldn't bow… But he tried.

I realized I had been stomping around on deck without my coat or disguise amulet. Nopony else had said a thing.

"Wait. I'm not… You're not supposed to know!"

Zepherine was going by with a spar floating in tow, and looked at me in puzzlement. "But… Everypony knows, Cap… Or Highness, I guess? Which one are you being right now?"

"Captain," I said, mostly to myself.

But Zeph grinned, said, "Aye-aye, Captain!" and went about her work.

I unbolted the number one engine pod and set it on deck, almost unconsciously.

Luna whispered to me, "Remember my love, we all do this in many ways. You just make the roles clearer and more fun for ponies."

By "we," she meant royalty, certainly. But I had never intended… I wasn't signaling authority, I was… I was trying to run from it? No, that wasn't right. I…

While my head was still spinning, the guard griffin Talon, accompanied by another, larger griffin, flew up level with Nebula's deck and called out, "Permission to come aboard?"

"Welcome aboard," I replied automatically.

They landed on deck and, after a moment's hesitation, saluted both Luna and I.

"You came north with Black Fang?" I asked. It was a dumb question, but I had to say something.

"Yes, Your Highness," Talon replied. And then, hesitantly, "May we speak with Her Majesty?"

I sighed. "Do I have to go through the charade of shape-changing?"

Talon looked distinctly uncomfortable. "Not if it would be an inconvenience, Ma… Uh… Highness. But it is helpful to us as an indicator of your exact mood and expected duties."

I sighed and called up Petunia's Polymorph. I couldn't help but notice that Luna gave me an appreciative look once the spell had completed. Nopony else on deck even blinked.

"Your Majesty!" Talon chirped happily. He and the other enormous griffin bowed. "May I present Terror of Your Majesty's Guard?"

She was osprey and snow leopard, a very pretty combination, but her beauty didn't disguise the fact that she was an absolute hulking brute. "It's a pleasure to meet you Terror, I've heard good things about you."

"Thank you, Majesty," she said in a deep, predatory rumble. Aptly named, that one.

Luna left us to our business and went off to check on her own ship's repairs. We went below to the crew deck to speak in semi-privacy.

They needed orders and letters of credit for stores and supplies for repairs to Black Fang. Since Ao had preemptively assigned the captured yeti battleship to Twilight Town's military (such as it was), I needed to issue orders concerning her and (more importantly), make arrangements to pay for her repairs as well.

I considered for a moment before I said, "Make no repairs to her engines or fuel system until I consult Mr. Ralf about converting them to crystal power. I'm assigning Tempest Shadow to be her acting captain. She knows the Stormguard ships inside and out, and she's wasted as a simple crewpony."

"Damned good in a fight, though," Terror rumbled.

Talon gave her a little poke with his wing for speaking out of turn, and she added, "Sorry, ma'am."

I waved off the trivial breach and said, "That she is, Terror. I may ask her to give some combat training to the griffin squadron. You may be surprised by how—appropriate it would be."

Right about then, an argument broke out on the main deck. I recognised the voices and sighed heavily. "Anything else?" I asked my griffins.

They braced and saluted. "No, ma'am!"

I dismissed them with the wave of a wing and went on deck.

"I will have order aboard my ship!" I roared and stomped the deck with a heavy forehoof. My eyes tingled with the sensation of incipient dark magic.

Discord and Fluttershy stopped squabbling and stared at me.

"Ooh… Spooky," Discord said. "Your ship? Where'd old Blackhead go?"

I bared my fangs. "Oh for… Do I have to change clothes every time I talk to a different pony?"

Discord blinked through several ridiculous outfits before saying, "But it's so much fun!"

I sighed and called up the shapechanging spell again. I even teleported my coat and swords over from the palace. "There! Happy?"

"Well, now that you mention it, no. I made a lovely floating oasis with pudding trees, elephoxes, and miniature snallygasters so that Fluttershy could relax and recuperate there, but she insisted on coming back here to nail this old tub back together! Can you talk some sense into—"

Fluttershy and I froze for an instant and then focused our murderous, piratical glares squarely on the suddenly nervous Lord of Chaos.

I didn't have fangs any longer, but my muzzle wrinkled up anyway. "Old—tub?"

"IthinkIhearmymomcallingIhavetogonowbye!"

Fluttershy flapped a wing to disperse the raspberry scented smoke he'd left behind and her expression softened. "He means well, Twilight. He offered to fix up Nebby with a snap so we could go off and relax together. But I just know he'd do it wrong. He doesn't understand!"

I nodded, my anger at his insult to Nebula fading away. "We don't have to understand everything about the people we love, but respecting boundaries is an absolute necessity, so try to keep him from meddling with my ship, okay?"

She frowned and gave me a look from under her brows.

"Our ship," I corrected myself.

She smiled.

= = =

It was a ridiculously full day, but Spike helped out immensely by organizing my notes and sorting my to-do lists into separate notebooks labeled Princess; Queen; Captain; and Whomever.

"So… everybody knows?" I asked him when we got a break. "Why didn't somepony tell me?"

He shrugged. "We all thought you knew! Besides, it's not everybody, just the crew, a lot of the Equestrian nobility, all the Guild nobs and important people in the Town, the guard, oh and probably the Mayor and her cronies in Ponyville…" He went on like that for a while, running out of claws to count on. "But the average pony in the street? Totally clueless!"

I sighed. "I suppose it's not a complete waste of time. It's weird, but Talon really behaved differently to me after I'd changed. And if an angry mob shows up on my doorstep, I can always say, 'Who? Oh no, that's Princess Twilight you're looking for. Completely different pony!'"

Spike chuckled. "Whatever works, right?"

I couldn't resist hugging him, and he hugged me right back. "Right!"

= = =

Three days later, Luna and I had breakfast with the imperial family. My heart absolutely melted when Flurry Heart ran over to us shouting, "Auntie Twi-wi, Auntie Lulu!" She seemed to have recovered her good spirits and only became more somber when she gave us her account of what she had seen on the day of the fight.

"He was bad! He was very, very bad and mean, but I wasn't scared!"

"Oh? Well, it's a good thing your mummy and daddy made him go away. What was his name? Crowbar?"

She giggled. "No, silly! It was Groger. He was a big, mean old goat!"

"Well, if he was mean then we won't ever let old Goatger come back!"

She giggled again and I felt tears welling up in my eyes. She was what we had fought for. Not just her, but for all the foals, for their future.

I almost believed that for a second or two. You hypocritical old nag, I chided myself, You blasted him because you were furious and indignant and in no mood to play nice with a brutal moron!

While the staff set up for breakfast, I pulled the Anubian golden dish out of my saddlebags and showed it to Flurry as I told her the story of the double crocodile. It was possibly too subtle a tale for a young foal, because when she was retelling the fable to her mother later, it had become, "If you don't share your candy a crocodile will eat you!"

Still a good lesson, though.

= = =

There were official speeches and parades and presentations and flag ceremonies, of course. Enough medals given out to ballast an airship. Pinkie was delighted with her EOV because I'd had Ralf remove the little golden sun-and-moon and replace it with an apple pie. "For baking above and beyond the call of duty," I solemnly intoned as I pinned it to her mane.

After everypony got tired of the official nonsense, I ordered a raft-up party. It was a Twilight Town tradition. In order to blow off steam (and subtly reinforce my hypocritical egalitarian ideals). After a difficult fight or voyage, ships or airships would tie up together and secure planks across from one to the other so that everyone could mingle freely. There would be a party for all of the crews together during which there were no ranks, and everyone spoke freely.

That was the intention. Of course, most ponies realized that if they called their captain a festering dungheap, it would probably not be forgotten or forgiven even though tradition dictated that it be so, and a certain reserve couldn't be avoided. Still, it was a pretty good way to minimize formality and promote honest comradery between crews. Luna thought the idea was a bit foolish, but agreed readily enough.

The three Townie ships and Midnight were securely moored and lashed together by sundown. Bunting, lanterns, and string lights criss crossed through the rigging, and tables laden with food and drink were strategically placed. Solid hatch covers were set over the gratings to make for dance floors, and the air was full of snatches of melody as the musicians debated which tunes to play first. Tempest provided a fireworks-like salvo to announce the start of the party.

A little more than comradery was promoted, as was perfectly understandable for ponies that had recently risked their lives. The antidote to death was life, and a lot of newly-formed couples snuck off from the main celebration to storage rooms, linen cupboards, cable tiers, and other private places as the evening went on.

Luna and I might as well have been harnessed together as we circulated. Each little bump of hip or shoulder as we walked was a comfort to me. She told the story of the battle at Mt. Everhoof several times, and it was as stirring and impressive a performance as Ao had implied. Dash and I told the story of the fight with Grogar, interrupting and correcting each other by turns, Dash staggered around the deck, one hoof clapped to her face and shouted, "My eye! My eye! Curse that blue pony!" in demonstration of a moment that hadn't quite happened that way.

We got the story of the capture of the Stormguard ship from several different sources, and nobody could keep a straight face when they related the ruse with the dead yetis. Even Tempest grinned a bit when she got to that part. "It was Ao's idea, of course. That is a damned fine First Mate, you've got there, Twilight."

I beamed back at her. I took a leaf from Celestia's book and told her, "She's mine. You can't have her, Captain Tempest."

Tempest chuckled and shrugged, then continued with her story. Her version wasn't exactly dry, but it was straight forward and she didn't embellish much as far as I could tell. Even her descriptions of getting the spear wound along her ribs or how she'd flipped the yeti commander into the blades of Number One when he tried to shove her overboard were unexaggerated.

"I didn't aim for the engine," she explained. "But when the rest of the yetis saw the chunks fly, they threw down their weapons and surrendered, so it was a happy accident."

She took a sip of her cider and added, "But I don't think Mr. Ralf and I are on speaking terms right now."

I smiled ruefully. "Poor guy. He doesn't yet realize that ending a voyage with one or two engines gone is pretty typical for Nebula. There's a reason her crew are good sailors." I thought for a second and then asked, "Is there a story behind the name?"

"The… Oh, Berrytwist?" She was pensive for a second or two and then said, "Just somepony I knew a long time ago. She was a nice little filly." She took another swig of her cider. "Totally unlike me, of course."

I held up my mug for an impromptu toast. "Here's to mean old mares!" Everypony within earshot drank with us.

A little later we met Lucky Charm, weaving along through the crowd under the leathery wing of one of Luna's guardponies. When the bat pony caught sight of the two of us he retrieved his wing and braced. "Your High—"

"No, sergeant. We are all equals here tonight," Luna told him.

"Yes, Your Highness! Of course, Your Highness!"

Lucky leaned against his side and said, "Isn't he just the handsomest thing?" She tugged at his free wing with her magic. "Look at these flippy-flappers! He's gorgeous!"

The sergeant's pale gray coat did very little to hide his blush.

Luna chuckled. "Relax and have fun tonight sergeant. Show this lovely young mare a good time."

He didn't salute, but it was a close thing.

As far as I knew, everyone had a good time at the raft-up. Luna and I certainly did.

= = =

A week later we were in Canterlot with all of our ships except Black Fang, which had returned home to Twilight Town. The Town had some respectable repair facilities, but Canterlot Yards was still the best of the best and I had a lot of other business to attend to in the capital.

Master Gudgeon made room for us, shuffling other airships and schedules around. He promised to get Nebula back in pristine shape in two weeks.[3] Berrytwist was unusual enough that he made no promises about her.

[3] Perhaps unsurprisingly, he had several entire spare engines of Nebula's exact make and model in the Yard's stores.

"No rush there," I told him. "Have fun and experiment. I'll want to replace the engines with crystal-powered ones, and I'd like to double up on some of those decks if possible. The yetis were so tall, there ought to be plenty of room, but I'd like to keep a section open for a griffin-sized flight deck. Sketch up some ideas and Ralf and I will check back with you in a couple of days."

"Will do, Captain!" He was grinning his head off. I guess, as an aeronautical engineer, he must have seen the task as a delightful challenge.

Speaking of yetis, we had crammed all the prisoners onto rail cars and sent them off under heavy guard to Vanhoover. A special train from Canterlot was organized, but some of the prisoners from the original attack stayed behind on Celestia's orders. I was too busy to speculate as to what the cunning old mare was up to, but it made for another item in my "Princess" book.

From Vanhoover, the yetis who were willing to be put under a geas never to attack Equestria again would be loaded aboard ships and delivered back to their homeland. The stubborn or deeply stupid ones would be left in the sub-basements of the old fort to reconsider. I didn't expect many to take that option. Grubber was released under his own recognizance (we had to explain the term to him), and he resumed his accustomed role as Tempest's assistant rather than being transported back home.

I arranged for rooms in the embassy for them, sent a letter to Mom and Dad letting them know I was in town, saw most of the girls off at the train station, took care of a dozen other little tasks that needed doing, and then fell into bed after a hurried supper.

= = =

The morning of my first full day in Canterlot was mostly spent in meetings with Celestia and various ministers, which began, of course, at dawn. Desperate adventuring and battles seemed to be so simple and straightforward and honest compared to political machinations. I did my best, but at one point I found myself ignoring the somewhat contentious discussion of the moment and staring out of the council room's big palladian window at a passing airship. Some noble's pleasure yacht, but she had fair, clean lines, and her helmspony certainly steered her well in the dirty air near the Canterhorn.

= = =

For lunch, I treated Moondancer to a fancy spread at the Hayloft. I reserved a private little booth at the back and put up a privacy spell after our food had been served. My somewhat hopeful imaginings of engineering a way to protect Ponykind's magic from future villains had died after the fight with Grogar. The world didn't need any more little crystal engines of terrifying capabilities.

Building a set of structured mana storage devices (Moonie's design called for a separate one for each tribe of ponies) now seemed like just a way to make it easier to steal or sabotage the magic. Making them responsive only when ponies were in harmony with each other seemed too authoritarian to me, even considering my occasional autocratic actions as Queen of Twilight Town. Given how ponies naturally tended to disagree as to the best course of action during a crisis, that feature also seemed like a guarantee of self-sabotage at some critical point in the future.

I let poor Moondancer down as gently as possible, and suggested steering her research into other manatransmissive areas. Perhaps investigating ways to create raptor sets with ordinary gold or platinum, and cheap, non-pressurized crystals? If she could get the cost down to something an average pony could afford, that would be a benefit to everyone.

She pointed out that the telegraphy companies wouldn't like it much.

I sighed and said, "Omelets and eggs, Moonie. Omelets and eggs."

= = =

In the afternoon I met with my bankers and had drafts made up to pay off the Nebulas and Black Fangs. The junior bankers frankly goggled at the sums involved, but none of the old guard even raised an eyebrow, not even when I deposited a dozen ingots of orichalcum to cover the drafts.

= = =

In the evening I saw Rarity and Xahjir off at the airship port. We made plans to see each other in Manehattan in the spring when they would be there for Fashion Week. I was willing to bet her new line would involve a lot of Royal Anubian influences.

= = =

That night, I invited my parents to have dinner with Luna, Spike, and I at the palace. The three of us lied to them outrageously about the amount of danger we'd faced. Mom fretted over the tiny scar on Spike's wing membrane, so I was fairly certain that I had been wise not to mention that Rainbow Dash had actually been chopped in half at one point.

= = =

The next day, I took Tempest to the hospital to introduce her to the prosthetics specialists and get a preliminary consultation. It was weird to see that big, muscular mare so nervous and uncertain. "You'll be fine," I told her. "These are the best equine doctors in the world."

They approved the crystal core I gave them, but warned us that enough orichalcum might not be available for some time. Channeling Captain Blackmane just a little bit, I levitated an ingot out of my saddlebag and thumped it down on the head surgeon's desk. "Will that be enough?" They were not as calm about it as the bankers had been, but eventually dates were set for the preliminary procedures and restoration surgery.

"I can't ever repay you for this, Twilight," Tempest said as we walked down the High Street toward the embassy. "I wish I could—"

"Tempest, you're one of the most capable mares I've ever met. You know what life is like outside of Equestria's cozy little confines, so you are an invaluable asset to the Town. But more than that, I hope by now you consider yourself my friend."

She grinned at me."Are you kidding? I have had more fun in the last month with you than I have in—ever. Just try to get rid of me!"

"So why would you think that you owe me anything? I made a promise to a friend, and I'm keeping it. Simple as that."

We walked along in companionable silence for a while until we came abreast of The Iceberg. It was a fixture of Old Canterlot, a shop that sold fancy frozen treats of various sorts.

I cocked my head in the direction of the front door. "Ice cream?"

Tempest nodded and smiled. "I'm buying."

= = =

=

Epilogue - 13 Moons Later

Epilogue - 13 Moons Later

I don't know what woke me.

All the outer wall panels of the bedroom had been slid aside to take advantage of the warm summer night, and the waxing gibbous moon was peeking in under the eaves of the veranda roof.

Luna was still asleep beside me, the cool, sensuous touch of her ethereal mane rippling across me like a ghostly surf. She wasn't sprawled across the bed in relaxed slumber, but had her legs neatly tucked beneath her body, with a predatory smile on her lips. She was working, guarding the only realm that was truly hers. I could get up without fear of waking her.

I slipped out of bed and walked out onto the veranda on the side overlooking the Town. It was still and quiet. Dawn was not far off, but the eastern sky had not yet begun to lighten.

I walked along until I could glance into Spike's room. He was flopped bonelessly across his bed, legs, wings, and tail overhanging the edges and twitching a bit as he dreamed. After a solid day's acrobatics practice with Slasher and her company, I assumed he would sleep until noon. Nothing amiss there.

Aside from their watch lanterns, the airships swinging gently at their towers were overlapping black silhouettes, but I could pick out Nebula with ease. High on the shoulder of Black Ridge, Berrytwist and Black Fang floated at their accustomed moorings. All quiet.

The little bejeweled wind chimes that hung along the eaves were also silent. No flashes of warning, no discordant jangle of alarm. Nothing worrying stirred within the aether.

I turned back and went around the corner of the House until I could look out to sea over the shoulder of the rocky headland to the south. Far over the horizon there was a storm, only betrayed by the tiny flashes of distant lightning reflected in the scattered clouds above the ocean. I spread my wings, but the wind was too light and confused to be of much help. The storm would come, or it would move elsewhere, or it would fade away, and there was nothing I could do but wait and see.

= = =

=

Author's Note

My heartfelt thanks to Cynewulf and Jordanis for the superb editing they did, and to all of you wonderful readers! Special thanks to Reese for post facto line edits!

Dramatis Personae

Rain Storm (Rainbow Dash)

Whirlwind - Carpenter's Assistant, Deckhoof

Hawser - Rigger, Helmspony

Clove Hitch - Second Officer

Captain Blackmane

Summer Breeze (Fluttershy)

Spike (Lance - midshippony)

Landslide - Carpenter, Deckhoof

Tempest Shadow

Calvados (Applejack)

Khaatarrekket, "Ket" - Third Officer (Zashira)

Ao - First Officer

Commander Wepaten of the High Song

Zephirine Drouhin, "Zeph" - Deckpony

Halter Hitch - Rigger

Silver Mask (Rarity)

Star Dance - Navigator, Deckhoof

Shrrbrgrth "Sherbet" - Ensign

Half Hitch - Rigger, Deckhoof

Zabaa - Deckhoof

Lucky Charm - Deckhoof

Ralf - Engineer

Woundwort - Doctor

Mango Tango (Pinkie Pie)

Glossary and Illustrations

--------- Informative Illustrations ---------

General Terms

Interior

Quarterdeck

Adorable but Dangerous

(See if you can spot the slight clue that there is an earth pony officer on the crew.)

Nebula has several other sternboards in her stores, with other (somewhat innacurate) names on them. Access to the sterngallery (for non-flying creatures) is through the sternlights.

--------- GLOSSARY ---------

Abaft

Behind.

Abeam

Directly to the side of the ship.

Afore

In front of.

Aft

Toward the rear of a ship.

Aloft

Up on a mast, or on top of or within the envelope.

Amidships

At or lined up with the center line of the ship. Often said of the wheel or tiller.

Athwart

Across.

Avast

A command to stop.

Aye-Aye

Response to a command meaning understood, and will comply immediately.

Baggywrinkle

A soft fuzzy wrap around a line at the point where it might rub against a sail with the intent to prevent wear.

Baldric

A strap over one shoulder and across the chest. Often used to hang a cutlass scabbard, paint bucket, or anything that needs to be to hoof, but that should be quick and easy to take off.

Ballast

Weight low in the ship designed to stabilize the vessel, or to help control the altitude of an airship.

Barbels

Tendrils sprouting from the heads of Eastern kirin and some species of fish.

Beam

The widest part of a ship.

Beam Reach

Sailing perpendicular to the wind.

Bear a Hoof

An order to help with a task.

Beating

Sailing into the wind.

Belay

A command to stop, but also meaning to make fast a line.

Belaying Pin

A wooden pin made to fit into a pin rail to form a cleat for tying off lines.

Bells

Bell strikes that keep time within a watch. (See: Watch) One bell is struck a half hour into a watch, with an additional bell every half hour, struck in groups of two, until eight bells are struck at the end of the watch (and the beginning of the next.) The two short "Dog" watches are an exception to this rule, the First Dog Watch ending with the striking of four bells, and the Second Dog Watch striking one, two and three bells at each half hour, but ending with eight.

Binnacle

An enclosure on the quarterdeck to hold the ship's compass and other instruments.

Biscuits, Ship's

Hard-baked biscuits designed to stay edible for long periods of time. Universally unloved by sailors and aeronauts.

Bitts

Large horizontal wooden cleats primarily for mooring and anchor lines.

Block

A shipboard pulley, usually large and wooden.

Boom

A spar that is attached to the lower edge of a sail.

Bow

The forward most point of a ship's hull.

Bowsprit

The spar projecting forward from a ship's bow, used to carry a spritsail and as a fixing point for the foremast stay.

Brace

A line attached to the end of a yard. Used to turn the yard.

Bulkhead

A shipboard wall. Usually solidly fixed in place, unlike a panel. See: Panel.

Bulwark

Solid sidewalls on the main deck.

Bunker

A fuel tank.

Burthen, or Burden

The volume of a ship's hull expressed as the weight of water required to completely fill it.

Cabin

A room, usually for officers. See: Captain's cabin, Wardroom, and Great cabin.

Cable

1) A thick line made of three lines twisted together.

2) A unit of measurement, approximately 600 feet.

Capstan

A large vertical winch set into the deck of a ship. It can be turned by several ponies at once using removable wooden bars called hoofspikes. Usually employed only for heavy lines such as mooring cables.

Captain's Cabin

A large common room with big square windows at the stern of a ship. Can be called a wardroom or great cabin. The captain's personal room is called the captain's sleeping cabin or the captain's quarters.

Cargo Hold

Lowest area of a ship excepting the bilge or ballast tanks. Used, unsurprisingly, for stowing cargo.

Carpenter

The crewpony responsible for making repairs to the wooden parts of a ship and fashioning new spars and yards when needed.

Catwalk

A narrow walkway, usually suspended at a height.

Ceiling

The altitude limit to which an airship can climb. Also the planks on the inner side of a ship's ribs, not often found on airships.

Cell

See: Gas Cell

Cell Heater

A crystal inside a gas cell that emits heat in order to expand the gas and provide more lift.

Chandler

A merchant specializing in providing hardware fittings and common supplies for ships.

Chart

A map specifically designed to be used for navigation.

Chart Room

A space aboard ship for storing charts, usually provided with a large table to roll out charts and use course-plotting instruments.

Chromatic Aberration

Rainbow-colored fringes around a magical field, indicative of instability or imminent collapse.

'Chunder

Contraction of "Watch under!" It is an unfortunate truth that even the most seasoned sailor or aeronaut may become nauseous in rough weather. When an afflicted pony is aloft in the rigging and about to loose their latest meal, it is a courteous warning to those on deck below. Has become a term meaning vomiting in general.

Close Hauled

Sailing as close to upwind as a ship can manage.

Clouds in Her Teeth

Sailing at a brisk pace. From the naval expression "bone in her teeth" that alludes to the bow wake of a ship.

Colors

Flag. "Let fly the colors!" is to hoist up a flag. "Strike the colors!" is to take down the flag. "False colors" is a flag of a nation other than the one the ship is allied with. "True colors" is the flag of the nation that the ship is allied with. A courtesy flag flown at the jackstaff is not considered false colors.

Companionway

A hallway.

Cowling

Any solid, removable covering.

Cradle

A large wooden structure meant to support a ship in drydock or an airship on the ground.

Crew Deck

The deck immediately below the main deck where the crew sleep and eat together. The galley is most often located on this deck.

Crosstrees

The crossed timbers that support a mast's top platform, and provide strong attachment points for shrouds and various lines.

Cupola

A semi-enclosure on the upper forward end of an airship's envelope. Designed as a duty post for lookouts.

Cutlass

A short curved sword designed for fighting in close quarters.

Cutter

A small boat for transferring crew and light cargo, usually powered or rowed, or a larger vessel designed for speed, usually with two or fewer masts.

Davits

Small L-shaped cranes most often used for securing and launching small craft.

Deadlight

A shipboard window that does not open.

Deck

A floor aboard ship. See: Floors.

Dirty Air

Uneven, turbulent wind. Terrible for sailing.

Dorsal

Upper surface

Driver

See: Spanker

Drogue

A tubular flag, similar to a windsock, but usually attached to a moving vessel.

Dropstone

A stone with a hole through which a line can be attached. Usually the size of a pony's hoof, but can vary in size. Can be used as a light boat anchor in a calm, a weight for a heaving line, disposable ballast, etc.

Duffer

A pony who has no knowledge of nautical/aeronautical operations or traditions.

Elevator

A horizontal steering surface on the aft end of an airship's envelope.

Engine Pod

The cowling that provides an aerodynamic shape covering an engine's workings. Often is designed to be rotated to aid in maneuvering.

Engine Strut

The beam (usually aerodynamically shaped) that supports and holds an engine pod away from a ship's side.

Engineer

An officer specializing in the maintenance and repair of a ship's engines and other gear of a mechanical nature.

Envelope

The fabric covering of an airship's gas cells, catwalks and maneuvering gear to produce an aerodynamic shape.

Feathering

To turn a prop's blades in line with the wind to produce no drag and to stop the prop from acting as a windmill. Cross-feathering is to turn the blades so as to produce no thrust when spinning.

Fife Rail

A belaying pin rail that runs around a mast.

Flag of Courtesy

When a vessel is within the territories controlled by a nation other than its own, a small flag of that nation is flown from a jackstaff as a show of courtesy and peaceful intention.

Flaking

To lay out a line on deck so that it runs out smoothly when a load is put on it.

Floors

Removable boards that can be laid across the ribs of a small boat to provide level footing.

Flotsam

Wreckage floating in the sea.

Fo’c’sl, Forecastle

The raised deck of the forward part of a ship and the area beneath it. Also the area forward of the foremast on a flat-decked vessel.

Fother

To stretch sailcloth over a hole to help keep out water. Usually, fothering is done as an emergency repair to a damaged hull.

Frass

Insect feces.

Full-and-By

Close-hauled, with all sails set.

Furlong

The length of furrow an earth pony can plow without a rest break. About 660 feet.

Galley

Shipboard kitchen.

Gangway

A walkway connecting shore to ship.

Gantry

A walkway connecting a mooring tower to a ship.

Gas Cell

A fabric bag for containing lift gas. Large airships have several contained within their envelopes.

Gasbag

A combined gas cell and envelope, usually found on small craft.

Gig

A small craft, optimized for speed. Often used for ferrying officers from ship to ship.

Ground Anchor

A large iron stake designed to be driven into the ground to provide a secure mooring for an airship.

Gunnel

The upper edge of an open boat's hull.

Half-Model

A design model of half of a ship's hull. Traditionally, the starboard half. Used for fixing the dimensions of a ship's framing.

Halyard

The line that hauls a yard up a mast.

Helm

A ship's wheel or tiller.

If You Please!

A polite suffix appended to an order.

Interstitial Vortex

A portal to interstitial space employing an N-dimensional hypermanifold. Teleport spells use pairs of these to transport items through interstitial space. Such vortices are not locationally stable and are affected by density and pressure gradients. In the case of a teleportation spell this can be beneficial, making it unlikely that a careless caster will appear (briefly) inside a solid object.

Jack

A leather drinking mug, lined with brewer's pitch to make it watertight.

Jackstaff

A short spar, having no other purpose than to fly signal flags or a flag of courtesy.

Jetsam

Wreckage washed up on shore.

Jetty

A stone platform leading out from the shore into a body of water, used as a landing stage for ships.

Jibe

To change direction by crossing a ship's stern through the wind. This is easy for a square rigged ship, but more difficult for a fore-and-aft rig as the boom of the mainsail may swing across suddenly and cause injury or damage. In a very strong wind, a skipper may elect to do a round-about tack instead of jibing, sometimes turning as much as 270 degrees. This is known as a "chicken-jibe."

Jolly Boat

A ship's boat, smaller than a cutter.

Jury-Rigged

A temporary and improvisational setup of spars and lines, for a specific purpose. Most often said of temporary repairs to rigging.

Keel

The heavy beam that runs the length of the bottom of a ship.

Keel Spell

A spell to reduce the leeway of a flying vessel, in much the same way as a physical keel or centerboard does for a sea-going vessel, allowing her to make way to windward.

Keelmast

A mast projecting downward from an airship's keel.

Ladder

Shipboard stairs.

Lamp, Lantern

A lighting instrument using candles, oil, or crystals. The term "light" is not used for this purpose aboard a sailing or flying vessel.

Lanyard

A line fixing an item to a pony. Typically used for a rigger’s knife when working aloft, or a bosun’s whistle.

Larboard

To the left when looking forward on a ship. "Port" is occasionally used in its place, though most sailors claim this causes confusion. It is more commonly used as an order to turn to larboard, i.e., “Port your helm!”

Lead Lights

(Pronounced to rhyme with “reed”) Two white lights, one higher than the other, Used to guide ships on an exact course. The upper light is further away from a vessel than the lower, so that any deviation from the desired course will cause the lights to appear to separate. Steering in the direction of the lower light brings the vessel back on course.

League

The distance a pony covers in an hour at an easy walk on flat ground. Approximately three miles.

Leeway

The amount of distance a ship slips sideways when sailing into the wind.

Length

Short for "pony-length." The average distance between a pony's chest and rump. Approximately a meter.

Letter of Marque

Sometimes called a letter of marque and reprisal. A letter from a government to a private captain granting (or even encouraging) the attack and capture of vessels hostile to that government. It is a legal contract that can also spell out particular details pertaining to the agreement, and a document which grant's the receiver the status of privateer. A typical clause is to grant protection within the region controlled by the issuing government.

Lift

1) The command to raise an airship to her cruising height.

2) The volume of an airship’s envelope stated as the weight of water necessary to fill it.

Lift Tanks

Steel tanks for storing compressed lift gas.

Light

A shipboard window. The term "window" is only used aboard vessels to refer to the large "square lights" (sometimes called "port lights") at the stern.

Line

A piece of cordage that is employed in some use aboard a vessel. If three lines are twisted together, they become a cable.

Locker

A wooden chest that contains a sailor or aeronaut's personal belongings. Can also mean a common storage chest for goods.

Lubber

Short form of "land-lubber," which is a corruption of "land-lover," which is rarely used nowadays since it is now considered a slur against earth ponies, when it is actually meant to be a slur against non-sailors and non-aeronauts. See: Duffer.

Make Fast

To tie off a line.

Mast

A large, vertical wooden pole that supports yards and sails.

Mead

An alcoholic drink made from fermented honey.

Metheglin

A mildly alcoholic drink made from fermented honey. Sweeter and less alcoholic than mead, and is produced more quickly. Sometimes called "quick mead."

Midshippony

A ship's officer (usually fairly young) ranking below all the named officers, but above the general crew. Often considered an officer-in-training, though this is not necessarily true.

Mooring

The act of securing a ship to a fixed location such as a pier, mooring stake or buoy.

Mooring Gear

For an airship, the small winches and belaying points in the nose, designed to facilitate connecting to a mooring tower.

Mooring Tower

A tower specifically designed to moor an airship by connecting to the forward point of her mooring sprit. It allows an airship to swing freely in a circle, with a boarding gantry that matched the ship's swing.

Née

Pronounced "neigh," meaning "born as." Used to indicate a pony's birth name, in cases where there may be some confusion as to who is being talked about. (Male form is "né.")

Neutral Buoyancy

The balance between weight and lift that will keep an airship from rising or sinking without being propelled by engines or sails.

Nose

The forward most point of an airship's envelope, not including the mooring sprit.

Officer

A pony in a position of command or special responsibility aboard a ship. In the military, the ranks are rigidly defined. On merchant ships, the composition of a crew can vary, but typically there are: Captain, First Officer (or First Mate), Second Officer, Third Officer. On small vessels these positions can be combined under one officer.

On the Rocks

Aeronautical slang for being ashore or on the ground. Sometimes used to mean moored or anchored for an unreasonably long period of time.

Onboard

On the vessel, sometimes used to mean on the deck, as opposed to aloft.

Orlop Deck

The lowest deck on a vessel above the cargo hold. Can sometimes be a partial platform instead of a full deck.

Ornithopter

A mechanical flying craft, usually quite small, that propels itself with powered, flapping wings.

Outhaul

A line that pulls a sail out to a set position on a yard or stay, in opposition to a tack or downhaul.

Overboard

On the unfortunate side of a ship's rail. Not a recommended position for a sailor who cannot swim, or an aeronaut who cannot fly.

Overhead

The ceiling.

Painter

The line fastened at a small craft's bow for use in tying up or being towed.

Panel

A shipboard wall, usually slotted in place or hinged, and easy to move. See: Bulkhead.

Pier

A wooden platform, supported by pillars, leading out from the shore into a body of water, used as a landing stage for ships.

Pin Rail

A rail, usually fixed to the inside of a vessel's bulwarks or shrouds, made to receive belaying pins. See: Fife Rail.

Pirate

A pony or other creature who commits mayhem and/or robbery at sea or in the air.

Point

As in "How high can she point?" meaning, "How close to upwind can she sail?"

Points, Compass

A navigational compass is divided into 32 named points, though navigators will often add or subtract a half point when setting course. Used instead of degrees because they are immediately understandable and require no mental mathematics. A point is equal to 11.25 degrees.

Port

1) A town or city that provides mooring, supplies, and services to vessels.

2) Sometimes used to indicate the left side of a vessel in place of "larboard" but considered confusing by most sailors and aeronauts.

3) Used as a verb to indicate a turn to the left, as in, "Port your helm."

4) A shortened form of "teleport."

Port Light

A large square window at the stern of a ship.

Porthole

A circular window.

Prefix, Ship's

The letters before a ship's name on her official papers or nameboard that indicate origin and/or ownership. The most common are AS and SV which mean a private Air Ship or Sailing Vessel, respectively. Others are:

TH(A)S - Their Highnesses' (Air) Ship, an Equestrian military vessel or royal yacht.

HH(A)S - Her Highness' (Air) Ship, a Crystal Empire military vessel or royal yacht.

HDM(A)S, Her Dark Majesty's (Air) Ship, a Twilight Town military vessel, royal yacht, or trading vessel directly owned by Queen Twilight.

HEM(A)S, Her Exquisite Majesty's (Air) Ship, a Marezambiquan military vessel, or royal yacht.

TMB, a joke prefix meaning, That's My Boat.

Privateer

A pony or other creature who commits mayhem and/or robbery at sea or in the air while in possession of a valid letter of marque.

Prize

A ship captured in battle.

Quarter

The rearmost sides of a ship, the Starboard and Larboard Quarters. A sleeping cabin in one of those positions can be referred to as a Quarter Berth, but never an Afterberth. When referring to a direction a quarter is 45 degrees off the midline of the ship toward its stern.

Quarterdeck

The raised deck at the stern of a ship, or the area of the main deck aft of the mizzenmast on a flat decked ship.

Quay

A stone platform running along the shore, used as a landing stage for ships.

Rail

The top edge of a ship's railing or bulwark.

Raptor

A RAPid amplitude-deviation interpretive oscillaTOR transceiver. A device that, used in pairs, allows ponies to speak to each other at considerable distances,

Ratline

A line running between shrouds to provide footing to enable ponies to go aloft, like rungs on a ladder.

Reef

1) To make a sail's area smaller by tying up one edge.

2) A dangerous shallow line of coral or rocks beneath the water.

3) A dangerous windbreak line.

Rhumb Line

An arc crossing all meridians of longitude at the same angle. On a Marecator projection, a rhumb line will appear to be straight, while on a globe, it will spiral from pole to pole. Also known as a loxodrome.

Ribs

The curved wooden beams which define the shape of a ship's hull and to which the hull planks are fixed.

Rigger

A crewpony who specializes in shipboard ropework.

Rigging

Lines directly involved in sailing a ship. Standing rigging holds up the masts, and doesn't move during use. Running rigging controls the sails and yards. Mooring lines, static lines, painters, and other such lines are not considered rigging.

Rope

A piece of cordage that is currently serving no purpose. For rope that is put to any use, see: Line.

Rudder

A flat, vertical steering surface attached to the aft end of a ship's hull or envelope.

Running

Sailing directly away from the wind.

Sailcloth

Tightly woven canvas, designed to work best for sails, but used for many other things such as hammocks and sea bags.

Salvage

Any wreckage legally recovered.

Scuttlebutt

Shipboard rumors.

Sea Bag

A cylindrical canvas bag used to transport a crewpony's belongings.

Sea Chest

A large wooden box used to store an officer's belongings. Typically has a greater size allowance than that of a crew pony's locker. (See: Locker) The term is used aboard airships as well as sailing vessels. (Probably because "air chest" sounds silly.)

Shares

The system that decides the division of spoils or profits for a ship's crew. The grades range from quarter-share for new crewponies in an understandable progression to captain's-share and owner's-share

Sheet

The main line for controlling a sail. Fore-and-aft sails have one, square sails have two.

Ship’s Articles

The rules of shipboard behavior, duties, shares and pay.

Shipwright

A designer (not necessarily a builder) of ships.

Shorten Sail

To take in or reef sails to provide less speed or protect against damage in foul weather.

Shroud

A side-to-side heavy cable that stabilizes a mast. Part of the standing rigging.

Signal Flags

Flags of different colors and designs used to send messages between ships or ships and shore/ground stations. There are internationally accepted meanings to the standardized set, but navies or private companies will often use their own coding/decoding schemes to prevent others from being able to read their signals.

Signal Flares

Rockets that burn in bright colors which are used to send coded messages over long distances. Because only colors are used, they are more limited in scope than signal flags.

Signatures (book)

A part of a book's pages that consist of a single set of folded and sewn-together sheets of paper. A typical book will consist of many signatures joined together.

Sinecure

A position typically providing a title and income but requiring no duties. Often used as a reward for political support or simple nepotism.

Sky Orcas

Mythical beings often credited for devouring airships that go inexplicably missing

Slipway

A sloping surface designed for hauling ships out of the water or air, usually for repairs, and then allowing them to "slip" back in. For larger ships, it is often paired with a cradle.

Snotter

The line used to support and tighten a spritsail to a mast.

Spanker

The large fore-and-aft sail on the mizzenmast.

Spar

General term for any long wooden shaft used aboard a ship.

Speaking Tube

A metal tube leading from one location to another that will carry the sound of a pony's voice a great distance with clarity. Whistle plugs are used to signal an incoming communication.

Springline

1) A diagonal fore-and-aft mooring line that keeps a ship steady against a pier.

2) Any line tightened across something to keep it securely in place.

Sprit

A slanting spar. See: Bowsprit

Spritsail

1) A sail hung from the bowsprit.

2) A sail supported by a sprit rather than a yard.

Spyglass

A small collapsible telescope.

Starboard

The right side of a vessel facing forward.

Static Line

A line woven with metallic wire to ground the static charge on an airship.

Stay

A fore-and-aft line supporting a mast or bowsprit. Part of the standing rigging.

Staysail, Staysl

A fore-and-aft triangular sail supported on a stay instead of a yard. The foremost staysl on the bowsprit is called a jib, unless there are two, and then they are (going forward) the jib and the flying jib.

Steering Fin

A large, maneuverable surface usually placed two-thirds of the way forward on an airship's envelope.

Steering Surface

Any flat, movable surface that aids in steering a ship. See: Rudder, Elevator, and Steering Fin

Stem

The projecting beam that extend upwards from the keel at the bow of a ship.

Stern

The back end of a ship.

Stern Gallery

A balcony projecting from the stern of a ship.

Stern Lamp(s)

One or more large, white navigation lights affixed to the taffrail of a ship.

Sternsheets

The seatboards in the rear of a small craft.

Strike

To take down. "Strike the topmast," means to dismount and take down the mast. "Strike the colors," means to take down one's flag.

Stun’sl

Short form of “studdingsail” Sails hung from an asymmetrical yard, fastened to either an airship's hull or to the yardarms of other sails.

Supercargo

Ponies aboard a ship that have specific authority and duties, but who are not within the normal chain of command. A portmanteau of "supervisor of cargo."

Suppressor Ring

A helical coil of thaumically reactive wire contained within a ring-shaped casing, used to deaden a unicorn's magic. Most often designed with self-tightening cams to prevent removal.

Tack

To change direction by crossing a ship's bow through the wind.

Taewidha

A talisman or gem that stores magical energy and (rarely) spell matrices. Any moderately adept mage can draw power from such a gem at will, although the recharging of one takes concentration and meticulous care. Storing a complete spell matrix in one is a very difficult and specialized skill.

Taffrail

The rail athwart the stern of a ship.

Telegraph

A control mechanism set on the quarterdeck that sends speed and rotation orders to a ship's engines.

Thaumochromatic detonation

The collapse or explosive fragmentation of a magical field, usually accompanied by a burst of multicolored light. A rainboom is the most commonly recognized (and least destructive) example of this effect.

Thaumoreactive

Something that, when touched with magic, reacts in any way not intended by the spell matrix. Technically includes a thaumoresistant object or substance, but that term or "anti-magic" is more commonly used for clarity.

Through-Hull

Any valve or drainage port that pierces the hull of a ship.

Thwart

A board running across a small boat, often used as a bench, but also a structural part of the craft.

Tiller

The horizontal spar that turns a rudder.

Topgallant Mast

A mast set atop a topmast. Often shortened to T'gallant mast.

Topmast

A mast set atop the mainmast.

Transom

The flat surface comprising the structural stern of a ship.

Truck

The wooden cap on a mast.

Vent

A valve at the top of a gas cell to vent pressure.

Ventral

Lower surface.

Waist

The central and lower part of a ship's deck. On a flat-decked ship, the area of the main deck between the foremost and aftmost masts.

Wardroom

A large common room for the officers, usually at the rear of a ship.

Ware!

Short form of Beware!

Watch

1) A period of time when a ship's crew is on duty and at their stations. Watches can either alternate (watch-and-watch) or be divided into three sections.

2) A team of ponies who stand watch together. For watch-and-watch schedules, a crew is usually divided into Larboard and Starboard watches. These are only labels and have nothing to do with a pony's duty station. For a three watch schedule, watches are usually named after a ship's masts (Foremast, Mainmast, and Mizzenmast), the tribes (Horn, Hoof, and Wing), or the colors of Celestia's mane, (Blue, Pink, and Green), at the whim of the commander.

The standard watch divisions, by time, are:

Middle Watch - Midnight to 4 AM (0000 – 0400) sometimes called the Graveyard Watch

Morning Watch - 4 AM to 8 AM (0400 – 0800) sometimes called the Deadeye Watch

Forenoon Watch - 8 AM to Noon (0800 – 1200)

Afternoon Watch - Noon to 4PM (1200 – 1600)

First Dog Watch - 4 PM to 6PM (1600 – 1800)

Second Dog Watch - 6 PM to 8 PM (1800 – 2000)

First Watch - 8 PM to Midnight (2000 – 0000)

Wear

To change direction by crossing a ship's stern through the wind. An easier maneuver than tacking for a square-rigged ship. See: Jibe.

Weevils’ Wedding Cake, The

Derogatory term for ship's biscuits.

Wharf

A wooden platform, supported by pillars, running along the shore, used as a landing stage for ships.

Windsock

A tubular piece of cloth affixed to a pole to show the direction of the wind.

Yard

The wooden beam from which a sail hangs.

Yardarm

The part of a yard that projects beyond where the corner of a sail is attached.

Author's Note

Some terms have been omitted because they are somewhat spoilery, but will be explained by footnotes in the text when they occur.

If you encounter any terms in the text that you feel should be in the glossary, please let me know and I will add them.

If you think these terms are a bit much, (not to say, going overboard), for comparison I kindly direct you to A Sea of Words by Dean King, which is a guide to terms used in the seafaring novels of Patrick O'Brian, and is mostly a glossary of well over 400 pages!

This guide is being posted as the last chapter of The Cadenza Prophecies which will go live before the rest of the chapters, which confuses FiMFic sometimes. Comments posted here may cause a bit of weirdness, like not showing replies to other comments correctly, so be aware of that.