Author's Note

Fashionably Late here, and although Luna’s intro to Ari is gonna be short ya’ll can have a longer chapter of more testing before we finally get back to that convoy... hopefully. In the meantime, I’ll be updating the Q and A blog with what the original plan was before Arizona made her appearance and who else we can expect. Plan is still to modernize the Equestrian Navy, but three months before the armor plates can be delivered along with however long before the battleships can be delivered is a tad bit long to be relying on half a dozen ship mares. Remember to comment if ya wanna ask questions, cause I don’t mind answering.

Chapter 24: Shakedown cruise

Arizona froze at the sight of the mare, her eyes widening in surprise. She immediately focused on the mare’s horn and wings. Wealthy Guardian’s explanation of Equestria included a lesson on the three main pony tribes plus the five princesses. Five mares that possessed the strength of an Earth pony, the wings and flight ability of a Pegasus, and the horn and magic ability of a Unicorn. All that and three of the five held as much political power as the former Kaiser had before the Great War.

By Wealthy Guardian’s description, the alicorn in front of her had to be Princess Luna. The one who could apparently control the moon, assuming the mare standing on her deck and gazing at her forward turrets was real. A pony that, even with the description she had been given, was far too detailed to be a simple image conjured by Arizona’s subconscious. Which was why Arizona paused to actually consider the situation before her.

Before Arizona could decide on a course of action the sound of a trumpet began to play from somewhere in the distance. It was then, almost as if due to the call of said horn, that the landscape around the two mares began to fade.

Reveille.

“What! Nay! Thou cannot awaken now! Not when I have yet to discharge my duties!” Princess Luna shouted as she began to gallop forward, though Arizona noticed that she didn’t seem to be getting any closer as their surroundings began to fade and dissolve like running paint.

“…!” She shouted something else, but the sound of the trumpet was so loud at this point that Arizona couldn’t make out a single word. And just like that, Arizona’s surroundings faded into nothing, Arizona shutting her eyes in unease at the blackness surrounding her.

Only to open her eyes a second later to find herself laying on her side in her quarters, a pony fairy standing only a few inches from her muzzle with a trumpet in its hoof and a grin on its face.

I sat up in bed, rubbing the sleep from my eyes.

Rising to my feet, I see that my chronometer reads 0630.

I stumble into the en-suite bathroom. Looking at myself in the mirror, I realize I'd fallen asleep on the bed with a thin layer of dust clinging to my fur, presumably leftover from my rescue work yesterday. If I'd known about that, I would have showered last night!

So, it's settled, then. I'll shower.

I enter the shower and, once the water starts flowing, I immediately see what my crew liked about hot showers. It's… not quite like being in a drizzle in the tropics, but it's still soothing nonetheless. I think I'll stay here for a bit.

A rapping at my door snaps me back to reality.

"One moment!" I yell, slamming the water valve closed, and leaping from the shower. Snatching a towel from the wall-mounted rail, I run it over my body and hair, though the latter continues dripping onto the tiled floor. I sweep through the room, picking up everything that's mine, and depositing it in my holds.

Hoofs shaking as I affix my cap, I stumble to the front door, opening it once I'm decent.

The door creaks open to reveal the visage of Wealthy Guardian, whose eyes widen. "M-ma'am, I'm not interrupting anything, am I?"

"No, I just lost track of time, that's all." I state whilst fixing my hair.

"I… see." Wealthy says, taking a moment to scratch his head, before indicating with a nod to follow. "So anyway, ma'am, as I'm sure you can imagine, yesterday was… busy, for a lot of people."

I snort. "It was a long day for me, and I spent it fighting for the first time, rescuing ponies and eating." I followed Wealthy out of the building and onto the street.

A smile creases Wealthy’s lips for but one moment before he quashes it. "And there's a lot of fires to put out at the moment. The battles and invasion attempts, even if we don't know what we're fighting, we're at least preparing for. Figuring out what's going on with you, and… the other spirits… it's a little outside the Navy's wheelhouse, or at least so I've been told."

I sigh thoughtfully.

"So, they want to stick me in a lab somewhere and study me?"

Now, it's Wealthy’s turn to laugh. "Frankly, I don't think they could, even if they wanted to. What the problem is, is that Canterlot hasn’t told the navy what you're capable of and they kind of need to know that, if you're going to be utilized correctly."

Wealthy blanches, seemingly not realizing how that sounded until he said it out loud. I choose to ignore it.

“What do you mean Canterlot hasn’t told the navy what I’m capable of?”

“Supposedly, a month ago Princess Celestia’s School for Gifted Unicorns ran some tests on the ship mare Chesapeake along with taking samples from a gun turret she manifested, somehow, but they haven’t released their findings to the navy.”

“Strange, you’d think they would have released that information by now.”

“And that’s why we’re heading to the boat ramp so you can have a shakedown cruise. The first order of business is a timed run to Naval Weapons Station Bronclyn. Do you know the way?” Wealthy gestured forward to the marina.

“That’s down the coast, south-west right.”

"That's the one." Wealthy nodded. "Ballpark, one hour of steaming at ten knots. How long would it take you at flank?”

"Half an hour, assuming that I can hit my designed speed of twenty-one knots. I took some below-water damage last engagement, and I need to make sure it's fixed before I really give it the beans." I state, not quite as confidently as I'd have liked.

"Well, do what you can. I'll be making note of your time of departure, and the guys at the other end will do the same for your arrival. Consider it the beginning of your shakedown."

I grin, despite myself. "About time I get to stretch my legs."

We walk in silence for a while, until we reach the concrete incline, descending into the tranquil waters below.

Trepidatiously, I descend towards the water. One pace before I reach the surface, I pause for a moment, before something pushes me to take the last step onto the surface.

I was half-expecting for my hoof to pierce the surface, but to my mild shock that did not happen. Rather, when I put my weight on it, it held fast, feeling not unlike stepping on a sandy beach, or maybe a springy trampoline. When my other hooves joined my first, I found myself drifting slowly away from shore.

That's… interesting.

"Ahead one-third, rudder hard to starboard." I automatically order, and I feel as my body begins complying. It takes me… embarrassingly long to get turned around within the confines of the marina, but before long, I shoot Wealthy Guardian a smile.

Wealthy, for his part, gives me a three-count, before sending me off by miming the dropping of a race flag.

I order my engines to Flank, and begin to pull away, saluting Wealthy in farewell as I go.

As I motor out into the channel, I watch as my pit log climbs.

10kt

15kt

20kt

21.5kt

As I come up to speed, I feel as my stern begins to sink in the water, waves lapping over my stern decking as I continue.

On my starboard-side, the beaches begin passing me by. On land, there's a few, camera-armed individuals ashore seemingly making note of my progress. I don't know if they can see me, but I offer a wave in response.

Can't hurt, I suppose.

I proceed further, a quick call down to my Chief Engineer confirms that all my machinery is running normally, and my fuel use is within projections.

I pass under a bridge as I approach the pier.

As I near, a group of about a half-dozen figures standing atop the wharf come into relief.

I spy a rusted ladder hung into the lapping waves, approach it, and clamber up to the surface.

"...and time!" One of the figures, wearing a labcoat, observes whilst studying his watch. "The time is now 0700, which makes it…"

"Thirty minutes, or an average speed of 21 knots." I provide. "The turns slowed me down a touch. Max straight line speed was 21.5 knots, according to my pit log."

"Thank you."

The pier descends into silence as he writes away on a notepad hovering in front of his face.

As he’s writing, I glance around and catch a glimpse of two silver stars on a nearby stallion’'s epaulettes.

"Sir!" I snap-to. "My apologies, I didn't realize-"

He waves me down, as the lab coat continues to scribble.

"There's really no need for that; we're short on time as it is. As for introductions, I'm Rear Admiral East Sea, CO of Bronclyn Naval Base. To my left is a group of researchers led by Professor Prancer, who teaches Physics, and Professor Dasher, a material science researcher.”

He pauses for a moment, before turning back to the academics. "I, uhh, did get that right, right?"

The two lab coated ponies, the one still writing and another wearing thick-rimmed glances, shrug.

“And to my right, here, is Sergeant Major Avery Jobs, his marines are pulling security, as well as lending their expertise for a couple of tests."

The Marine grunts in recognition, and I nod in greeting.

"We'd best be starting. If you'd follow, everyone?"

I'm led down the pier, ashore, and past an S-curve in the road leading inland. As I round the bend, I'm greeted by what I first believed to be a roadblock, but quickly recognize as a hastily-thrown together firing line when I see the targets spread out further down the road.

The scientists directed me to stand exactly in the spot where all the equipment was pointed, and I got to work. They started having me dismiss, summon, and re-summon my rigging a few times, as well as fairies pop in and out. A couple minutes later I was aiming one of my Browning .50 caliber machine guns at a metal chariot, blackened with soot and pockmarked with holes; clearly a range target.

Rata-tat-tat!

The gun emits a rapid three-round burst, the recoil knocking me several steps back. I regain my footing, return to the firing line, lean further in, and let rip again.

Rata-tat-tat! Rata-tat-tat! This time, I'm able to watch as the tracers zip across the couple-hundred intervening yards, sparking in and on the burnt-out chariot.

My attention is also grasped by sparks below me. I look down to see my feet sliding across the road, leaving a pair of shallow gouges in their wake.

“I don't think I can go much bigger than that. I'm having trouble keeping on top of the recoil without water to absorb it.” I blanch, kicking a few spent .50 cal casings away.

“We saw, ma'am.” One of the scientists reports. “Would you be comfortable firing a secondary gun?”

I sigh heavily.

“I'll do my best. Is everything rolling? I get the feeling this is happening only once.”

“We're… ready, ma'am.”

“Alright, here goes nothing.” I say, aiming one of my 5-inch/51 caliber guns at the swiss-cheesed chariot.

I inhale, grimace and fire.

Everything goes white.

"Gahg." I murmur, stirring as I shield my still-closed eyes from the light.

"Well that beats the Tartarus out of a pupillary response." An unfamiliar voice drolly notes.

My eyes flutter open as I slowly take stock of my surroundings. I'm lying on my back in… some sort of shallow crater. Was I attacked?

A Corpsman, who had previously been examining me, scooches back to give me space.

"D- damage report." I groan out, stations beginning to sound off on the sound-powered circuits.

Before long, responses come pouring in.

Pretty nasty shock damage, it sounds like. I had a few boilers get snuffed out, with the engineers currently performing inspections to determine if re-lighting them is safe. There's reports of equipment breaking free, most worryingly a couple of main gun shells which broke their lashings, and which the powder monkeys are currently in the process of par-buckling back into place.

Additionally, there's reports of leaking pipes throughout my hull. Multiple high-pressure steam leaks are being addressed in Engineering, a potable water line is leaking into the radio shack, and the forward head on first deck is currently leaking black water into the steward's quarters.

I grunt, rising to a sitting position. "Anyone get the plate of that truck that hit me?" I quip.

There's a few scattered, half-hearted laughs from a now-much larger group, surrounding me at a respectful distance, though my eyes are still too bleary to recognize anything beyond the shapes of ponies.

"How are you feeling?" A sincere voice I now recognize as belonging to the corpsman speaks softly from my side. "I tried getting your vitals, and you were breathing, but I couldn't find a pulse anywhere."

"That's probably because I have boilers, not a heart, doc." I chuckle, only slightly forced. "I took a knock, and it will be a bit before DC has me back up to 100%." I shoot a strained smile, though it fades after a few moments. "What, uhh, happened, anyway? The last thing I remember is firing, and then…"

Sergeant Major Jobs clears his throat, stepping forward. "Ma'am, after you fired, you were thrown backward approximately ten feet. When you landed, you did… that, to the road." He indicates the spidering cracks in the road surrounding the shallow depression I find myself in with a hoof. "And we found we couldn't move you. The plan was to try to bring in a crane, but, well, your MarDet seems to have taken issue with that, ma'am."

Blinking a few more times, the shapes of about two-dozen olive drab-clad figures arrayed in unprepared defensive positions surround me.

"Ah." I observe.

Though, there's still this weird noise. It's so faint, I can barely hear, but I still look around to try to locate the source. Is it… over there?

Yeah, sounds like it. But what is it?

Oh.

And is that-

Yes. Yes it is.

I see one of my Marines apoplectically laying into Rear Admiral East Sea, knife hand fully engaged.

A Gunners Mate is trying to shoo away the "Buckin' fairy", as she puts it.

My Marine is too far away to make out her rank insignia, but knowing their merry band of misfits, I have a good idea of who the wayward individual might be.

"Gunney!" I snap, causing the diminutive NCO to jump about a foot into the air, before landing at attention. "He didn't know what would happen, leave him be! Now back aboard, all of you! We'll handle this later." I add, darkly.

The Marines begin ducking back aboard, though much to my displeasure, their route leads them up my flank.

I grumble as I shakily rise to my feet, the stragglers climbing up my leg like a rope before disappearing. I approached the Rear Admiral.

"Sorry, sir." I open, coming to a stop a respectful distance away. "The impact knocked out the bridge crew-" I say, pointing to my head. "And it seems my MarDet, without anyone to give orders to the contrary, assumed I was under attack. I didn't realize that they would, or even could, do that, but now that I know, I can prevent it in the future. It won't happen again."

He looks me up and down, seemingly scrutinizing my reaction.

"Good." He says simply. I let out a breath that I didn't realize I was holding.

"But-" He raises a hoof, cutting off a response of my own before it left my throat. "Your… gunnery sergeant, was it?" He cocks his head, to which I nod. "Well, she did have a point, no matter how much I disagree with the expression of it."

My expression softens. "Sir?"

"Even putting aside the… moral considerations, you're a unique asset." He states, as if that explains everything. "I shouldn't have allowed such dangerous experiments to be carried out."

"That may be, sir, I believe there was more planned? Let's get to it." I prompt.

"...yes, let's." He affirms.

With a quickness, I'm led down the road, as a few of the gathered academic types begin swarming in to document the aftermath of the incident. As we walk, though, the deep baritone of Sergeant Major Jobs speaks softly behind me.

"In case you were curious, ma'am, you did hit your shot." He says, pointing out to the range target, the chariot rendered into a thousand metal shards scattered around the range.

"Just remind me to never piss you off." He monotones, before shooting me a toothy grin.

I snort. "And you haven't even seen the big guns yet."