Chapter Twenty
Running for the Gate
I rushed the job on the anti-magic gun, fighting back a compulsion to work on each part until it was perfect. Instead, I put the majority of my effort into completing the mandala and maximizing its range. That meant scavenging a waveguide barrel from another gun and connecting the mandala to the power gem with a cable rather than a purpose-built receiver. It was unwieldy, but it would work, and I finished it with several hours to spare.
I made good use of some of those hours getting some much-needed sleep. Oh, there were dozens of other things I could have done to improve our chances, but I'd learned through hard experience that being sharp and well-rested would improve our chances the most.
According to Loose Leaf, the Black Gate was built high in the mountains to the north of us, and guarded by a hereditary group of pegasi. Or rather it had been guarded by them. Being the primary location associated with the Replenisher of Graves, as soon as word spread that she had returned, Twilight Sparkle's secret followers[1] had infiltrated the place and taken over.
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[1] There were a surprising number of them. Less than Loose Leaf had boasted of, but they numbered in the hundreds. I am pretty sure that their prime motivation was resentment at serving an "inferior" race rather than devotion to a centuries-old story of a dreadful boogey-mare.
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I stood in the bow, scanning the mountain range ahead of us in the distance with my spyglass. It was hardly more than a jagged purple line on the horizon. Not much in the way of detail was visible beyond bits of white on the tallest peaks.
Loose Leaf was with me, describing what we should expect as we approached. She told me that the gate complex was located at the head of a hanging valley, and if one discounted ponies who were exceptionally skilled in mountain climbing, there was no way to get there except by air. The buildings to either side of the gate were built of the same black basalt that formed the gigantic trilithon of the portal itself, and were the living quarters and central library of the scribe caste she was born into.
"So… what sort of books are in the library?" I asked her, as casually as possible.
"There is a section for each of the great families' records, military history, and genealogy. Otherwise, it's general history and philosophy, mostly," she replied.
Focus, I told myself. You can come back to the books later. Aloud, I said, "And the approach is up the narrow valley? How are the winds?"
"Rough when the valley below is hot and the air is rising. And during storms of course. Otherwise they're mild. It should be easy to sail Nebula right through the gate in the evening."
"What about the imperial ships?"
"Cutters and cruisers would fit easily," she replied. "Are you going to capture some more of them, my liege?" Where a normal pony might be grinning at the thought, Leaf's expression would best be described as unholy glee.
"I'm keeping my options open," I told her. "What about the bigger ships?"
She thought for a moment and then said, "It would be pretty risky with the battleships. It would be an awfully tight squeeze, and I think the imperial flagship might actually scrape the sides of the valley when it got near the gate, even if the air was dead calm."
"But they can fly over the valley?"
Loose Leaf frowned. "I've never heard of an airship doing it, but it should be possible. Not much room for error, though, and no ship could make it over the crest of the range behind it. The stompers always use pegasus chariots or ornithopters to go north."
I nodded distractedly. Her information was useful, but it hadn't triggered a sudden, brilliant plan. "We'll just have to play it by ear," I muttered.
Loose Leaf laughed delightedly. "Very witty, Your Highness!"
"Huh?"
She stopped laughing and began to look a bit uncertain. "Your… hum… pun is it? 'By ear.' It's funny because…" She trailed off with one wingtip pointed toward my freshly regrown right ear.
Fortunately for Leaf, who would have gnawn her own legs off rather than offend me, the speaking tube for the quarterdeck whistled just then.
It was Sirocco, reporting that we were under attack.
I quickly stowed my spyglass and leaped over the starboard anchor, getting clear of the hull so that I could see what was happening. Loose Leaf followed close behind me.
We had gotten used to the cloud of ornithopters that followed just within sight of us and had mostly ignored them as we rushed toward the mountains. I assumed their purpose was to simply observe us and guide the battleships as they caught up. But it seemed that the little machines were to take a much more active role.
They were clustering into three groups in an inverted arrowhead formation. The sides were rushing forward and the central group was climbing fast. It was a classic griffin envelopment; the two "wings" would harass us from the flanks, while the "beak" attacked from above. It was a good tactic for a swarm of flyers that were both quicker, and able to climb higher, than us.
I banked hard and came down on the quarterdeck behind the mizzenmast. I took the big telescope from Star and focused it on the climbing ornithopters. As I had feared, they weren't carrying guns. Instead, there were canisters about the size of a foal slung under their bellies.
"Captain!" I called out, rushing forward. "They're going to bomb us!"
"Will the anti-magic paint hold out?" Skyla asked. We had used that last of the goop on the quick repairs we'd made after the battle, and the coating on the damaged areas of Nebula's upper envelope was nowhere near as thick as I would have liked.
I shook my head. "They've had direct experience of how good our magic defense is. It's likely that those bombs are pure chemical nastiness."
She stared at me for a second and her jaw went tight. "Recommendation?"
"We haven't sighted their airships yet, so I'm betting this is a desperation move to slow us down," I said, thinking out loud. "We can climb faster and further than they know, but I don't think this is the time to reveal that ace in our mane." I lapsed into silence for a few, very long seconds. Everypony on deck was watching me silently.
"Captain," I said. "My recommendation is to out-fly and out-fight them. We've got magic guns up top. That'll make the bombers climb out of gun range, where they'll be less accurate. We can put a dozen unicorns on the dorsal catwalk as fire suppression teams to handle any hits, and everypony else on the deck guns to deal with the wings."
She nodded. "Very good, Ms. Nightshade. Anything else?"
"I'll take the wheel. Make sure everypony has their safety lines clipped on. The ride could get pretty rough."
She began issuing orders, sending ponies to their stations with speed and efficiency. She whistled up Ao and asked her to provide moment-to-moment reports on the position of the bombers. The last command she gave before making sure her cutlass was hanging properly from its baldrick and flipping down the shaded lenses of her goggles was to Star.
"Let fly the colors!"
"Aye, aye, Captain!" the big mule cried out with enthusiasm. The big Jolly Roger unfurled from the sternpost and snapped in our wake.
I took the wheel from Sirocco and unlocked the synchronizing levers that kept the steering fins, rudders and elevators working in tandem. He moved to the telegraph and clipped his line to the brass bullseye on the rail. Sky remained with her ear to the cupola speaking tube.
The little ornithopters were quick; we didn't have to wait long. The wings swept in first from astern, strafing the deck and no doubt hoping to distract us from the bombers moving into position above.
The Nebulas gave back with a will, many of the rebel unicorns screaming defiance as they fired their weapons. Several ornithopters were downed at the first pass, tangled in netting or broken by magical fire. Somepony was even using my improvised anti-magic gun, which had the effect of shutting down the engines of the craft it hit. There were also a few cries of pain from Nebula's waist; we hadn't escaped totally unscathed.
The wing squadrons banked sharply, turning to come at us again, and I shifted my magical grip on Nebula's controls. When they were a quarter furlong out, I pushed the levers hard, switching between the controls as quickly as I could to produce a configuration of her flight surfaces that would have had old Gudgeon tearing his mane out in despair.
Nebula shuddered as her elevators, rudders, and steering fins all went into hard opposition. If she had been a single-pony vessel, she would have spun on her long axis like a drill bit. As it was, she swung the tons of timber and iron of her hull nearly thirty degrees to larboard, right into the path of the strafing ornithopters on that side. The fast little flyers had no chance to swerve away, and shattered against our hull like glass thrown at a brick wall. The noise was appalling.
The squadron on our starboard side missed their shots, which were aimed at targets that were suddenly a dozen lengths from where they were expected to be. Our own crews mostly missed as well, many of them sliding about on deck until brought up short by their safety lines. Some of the Nebulas were wounded by debris that crashed along the deck, and our larboard fore engine started making an ugly grinding noise.
As Nebula's hull swung back into line, Skyla shouted. "The bombers are above us! They're dropping the bombs!"
"Sirocco! Larboard engines full astern!" I commanded. The hull was starting to swing back, rising then on the starboard side, and I slammed the elevators to the full down position at the same time as I hauled the steering fins to full up.
Nebula's nose dipped and her stern rose like an enraged pony about to buck with all her strength. The rigging and masts groaned in protest at the sudden massive torque between hull and envelope that they had never been designed to take, and I heard the sharp cracks of lines parting under the strain. Then I spun the wheel hard left and there were more ugly sounds from above me as Nebula yawed and pitched violently.
The insane maneuver twisted us out from under most of the bombs. They fell past our starboard side like ugly metallic hail. Two hit the envelope at a steep angle and bounced off before they burst, flinging a lacework of fire across the sky. Only one struck fairly, spattering its flaming chemicals just forward of the aft dorsal hatch.
"Sirocco! Larboard aft engine full ahead!" I ordered. The damaged engine had begun smoking, and I tried to ease the strain on it. "Forward engines to half ahead."
Skyla kept relaying a running report of the firefighting effort until Ao broke off, going aft to help put out the flames. Nebula was still oscillating and yawing badly, and I concentrated on getting her back under control. Skyla drove the gun crews back to their stations with insanely cheerful encouragements.
The surviving wing of ornithopters swung wide around us, following their lead pilot, who was no doubt wondering if there was any point in pressing the attack after losing an entire squadron. A concentrated barrage of fire from the gun crews—who had responded remarkably well to Skyla's shouted exhortations to bloody murder—resulting in several more losses, made up the officer's mind, and he led his flyers away from us at top speed.
The cupola tube whistled, and Ao reported that the fire had been put out before any major damage had been done. A repair crew was already patching the holes in the envelope and the number four gas cell. Within a minute, we could see the bombers from the deck as they dropped down to join the other fliers retreating toward the southern horizon.
"Good to see the imperial scum run, isn't it?" Skyla called out to the crew.
They cheered. Even the wounded ones.
The single note of dissent came from our damaged engine which gave a metallic shriek of protest before freezing up entirely.
Sirocco immediately rang both forward engines to stop and cursed under his breath.
"Ring up the fore starboard engine to full ahead, Sirocco," I told him. "A little left rudder will compensate for the imbalance."
He did so and then turned to me. "I've never seen anything like that, Ms Nightshade! I've never even heard of the like!"
I flipped the synchronizing levers back to their locked positions and said, "The old designs can do some things no sleek and modern craft would dream of. Would you kindly[2] take the wheel? Keep her a spoke or two left, and she should fly straight."
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[2] "Would you kindly" meant the same to an airship crewpony as "if you please." It was a genteel way of indicating a direct order.
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"Ms. Nightshade, please assess the damage to the engine," Skyla said.
"Aye-aye, Captain," I answered, and made for the main deck. Behind me, I heard her calling Star to the telegraph and giving command of the deck to Swift Wing. She was going to tend to our wounded, despite the fact that we had taught and drilled all the rebel unicorns in healing and palliative spells. But as old Commodore Cloud would say, that was "only right and proper."
I opened the access hatch to the larboard fore engine and disconnected the big cable that fed power from the gem to the engine. Then I opened the cowling on the engine pod itself. The damage was bad, but not as bad as it might have been. The props showed impact damage, and the forward bearing had fused itself to the drive shaft. It must have seized up when struck by ornithopter debris. Fortunately, the engine itself seemed to be undamaged, but the shaft, bearing, and propellers would all have to be replaced.
We had spares aboard, of course, but it would take at least a day to make the repairs, or even longer considering that they would have to be done in flight. Long before that, we would arrive at the Black Gate or the imperial fleet would catch up to us; we would just have to make do with three engines. The engine had control rods that would feather[3] the props automatically, but those had been destroyed by the damage to the drive shaft, so I did it directly by twisting the blades with my magic. Then I closed the pod's cowling and the access hatch, leaving the power cable disconnected.
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[3] "Feathering" a propellor is a technique used when an engine is stopped to reduce drag. The blades are turned edge-on into the wind, so that air resistance is minimized. Skilled ponies will use this same technique with their oars when rowing a boat.
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We had to keep ponies at all the battle stations in case of more unpleasant surprises, but after Skyla had made her rounds—praising and healing the crew to the best of her ability—she ordered Cream Puff to light the galley fires and prepare a generous hot meal to be carried to all the crew at their posts.
Sugarpine and Loose Leaf joined me, Ao, and Skyla in the captain's cabin for a meeting over our food.
"We defeated the attack, but they managed to reduce our speed by almost thirty percent, so it wasn't a complete victory," I said to the group. "We haven't sighted the fleet yet, so we still have a chance of making it to the Black Gate before they catch us."
"The pegasi at the gate will flock to your aid, Princess Twilight," Loose Leaf put in. "You need only send a courier to ask!"
I shook my head. "Enough to fight off the fleet?"
"They would gladly die in your service," she replied, dodging the all-too-obvious answer.
There was a moment of awkward silence in the cabin and then I said, "I'd kinda prefer they didn't, actually."
"Her Majesty is quite tender-hearted," Ao said to Loose Leaf with a wry smile. "Often, entire months go by without any ponies killing or dying for her."
Skyla stifled a laugh with a snort, but Loose Leaf looked stricken. "Is she to be addressed as Majesty?" The deranged little pegasus turned her eyes to me. "Forgive me, Majesty! Oh, please forgive me! I did not know! I will—"
"Just ma'am, please!" I said emphatically, with a glare at Ao.
The kirin put on her best contrite expression, but her little mustache thingies rippled in amusement.
"Can we get the discussion back on track, please?" Skyla said, grinning faintly herself.
"The valley containing the gate is defensible, correct, Leaf?" I said.
"Yes, M—ma'am," she said, still sweating slightly. "At least it would be very difficult for the bigger ships to approach if opposed by even a small force."
"And if we arrived early enough to put gun crews on the rim of the valley above the gate?"
Loose Leaf considered it for a moment. "I think… I think that might make it too dangerous for any but fliers and chariots."
"And how many of those accompany the fleet?" I asked.
She looked very distressed, but managed to choke out the answer anyway. "Still too many to fight. There is no cover for Nebula, and in the narrow valley, no room to dodge their bombs! You must return to your world, where you will be safe! The loyal blacklips will hold the gate until you can return with reinforcements!"
I turned to Skyla. "That still might give me enough extra time to deal with the gate mechanism." I carefully avoided saying anything that would make Loose Leaf suspicious about what, exactly, I was going to do to the gate. "And if I can't make the adjustments I want in time, we will all just go home."
Skyla stared at the tabletop for a moment. Then she looked up at Sugarpine, who hadn't said much of anything during the meeting. "All your ponies have been thoroughly briefed about the gems and medallions. I will give a general order if they are to be used, but tell them that if they are in danger..."
Sugarpine snorted and held up a big hoof. "Like they were in danger just now? Captain, you'll have to give that order before they'll run from a fight with the imperials, and some of them might stick around anyway. For the first time in their lives, they've got the power to get some revenge on those damned stompers and, believe me, none of them want to let go of that."
"Living well is the best revenge," I told him, somewhat sharply.
He nodded. "Yes, ma'am, but blowing holes through the ponies that have oppressed and tortured my tribe for centuries is a really close second."
I bit back an answer to that. There would be enough time when we were back in Equestria to teach them all the inestimable value of forgiveness and friendship.
"One last thing, then," I said. "A serpent without a head isn't much of a threat. If we were to capture or kill the emperor, would that discourage the pursuit? Or throw it into enough confusion that we would gain a significant amount of time?" With help from various friends, I had pulled off a number of operations that were nearly equivalent to sneaking into an enemy fleet and kidnapping a monarch. Perhaps we could—
Sugarpine and Loose Leaf exchanged looks and both emphatically shook their heads. Loose Leaf said, "His barons and the council run the Empire. A lot of them might squabble over the succession, but they would all see his death as an opportunity rather than a setback."
I raised an eyebrow. "Not well-regarded, then?"
"Not regarded much at all," Sugarpine said. "He's… what... seven?"
Loose Leaf nodded again. "Technically, the colt's word is law, but his words are mostly echoes of whatever the regents tell him, and the barons are notorious scofflaws. He wouldn't be missed."
"Oh," I said, abandoning that train of thought. "We will have to continue on as planned, then."
Skyla stopped me when the others left her cabin. "Could I talk with you for a minute, Twilight?"
"Certainly, Captain," I replied, automatically, not really noting that she'd used my name.
"No, not Captain, Aunt Twilight. Just me."
I smiled at her, "Sure, Flurry. What did you want to tell me?"
She swallowed and grimaced. "It's not enough. It's not nearly enough, but I want to say I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry for getting you and everypony else into this mess! I don't know how much it cost you to build Nebula, but I will pay you back every bit—"
I took her head between my wingtips, leaned close to her, and said, "No."
"What...?"
"No, you won't. That doesn't matter. What matters is that you've learned a lot from all this, and even better, you've taught me something very important."
"I don't understand. What could I possibly teach you?"
I let go and paced the deck as I answered her. "I've seen hundreds of worlds, and many that were worse off than this one. So many, that I let it change my thinking. It's impossible to help them all, or even a small fraction of them, so I… I stopped caring. I let things happen that I shouldn't have."
"But, you're right! You can't fix everything!"
"Yes, that's true, and I can prove it mathematically," I replied, nodding my head. "But what you've taught me is that I can fix what's in front of me. At least I can try. It should have been obvious, but some things are better learned in action. And for that, thank you."
I'd gotten her completely wrong-footed, and she had no idea what to say to me, so I saluted her and said, "And now, if you'll excuse me, Captain, I will go inspect the repairs to the envelope and make sure cell number four is sound and fully filled."
"Uh… Yes. Good," she said, her eyes still wide. "Carry on."
For some strange reason, as I prodded at the charred fabric and rough patches on Nebula's upper surface, I found myself humming a happy tune.
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