//------------------------------// // Chapter 11: The Final Straws // Story: Faithful and Strong // by Golden Scribe //------------------------------// Hornblower listened in consternation as Princess Luna (as she’d introduced herself) explained herself. “I had heard that your ship had officially completed repairs last night, and were preparing to test things out. Forgive my intrusion, but I’ve just finished drilling the Royal Militia, and battle tactics are still uppermost in my mind. I was hoping you would allow me to accompany you during your own drills so that I can see how the humans do things and perhaps get some new ideas for my own training regimen. I’ll make sure to stay out of your way, of course, but I would very much like to have my curiosity satisfied.” Of course you would, Hornblower thought bitterly, Twilight sent Princess Celestia a letter telling her about the drills, and she sent you to make sure we didn’t turn the guns on Equestria. For all I know, they have a special device in them that renders them inoperable unless a unicorn is present. Refusing would just make it that much harder to finally get out of here. He looked Princess Luna straight in the face, looking for something that would confirm his suspicions. She blinked at him placidly, though he could certainly see royal imperiousness lurking in there. Willing himself not to sigh, he nodded his head. “You are certainly welcome to oversee the proceedings. I’m afraid it can get somewhat cramped below decks, though, especially when men are racing around to get the cannons loaded. There are a few out-of-the-way corners where you can watch, but it might not be very comfortable.” “Thank you very much, Captain,” Princess Luna said, bowing her head gracefully, “I will manage. Now, shall we get these drills underway?” Hornblower bristled, but she was right; the watch had just rung eight bells, and it was high time they began. Nodding, he turned to Lieutenant Bush. “Order the gangplank to be raised, Mr. Bush. It’s time to steer the Lydia out of the bay.” *** “Time?” “Three minutes, fifty-five seconds, sir!” Midshipman Savage called out, loudly enough for the men in the ratlines to hear. “Passable, but it could be better.” Bush declared. Then he glanced at Hornblower. Hornblower shook his head slightly, and Bush called up to the men “We’ll be running drills later this afternoon to see if we can cut it down further! For now, however, make your way down below. It’s time to test out the cannons. North, Benskin, Sullivan, prepare the targets.” “Aye, sir!” came the call, and the men scrambled down the ratlines, while the men on deck hurried down below. Hornblower and Bush remained on deck, waiting for the worst of the crush to disperse. Then there came the soft clopping of hooves, and Hornblower steeled himself. “Your men perform admirably, Captain,” Princess Luna said, “Despite your claims of a lack of practice. You must command them well when you are out on the open ocean.” Surprised by the compliment, Hornblower merely gave a curt nod. “I appreciate your praise, Your Majesty. Nevertheless, they will require more practice to make sure they are at their best. You never know when you may encounter a French vessel.” “Of course,” the princess agreed, “That is why I spent the past week drilling our royal guards. They need to be prepared for anything.” Hornblower nodded again. “The men are no doubt waiting on us. We should head below. After you, Your Majesty.” Princess Luna inclined her head and vanished down the stairs. By the time Hornblower and Bush joined her, she had found a spot near the stairs where she could observe without getting in the way. Her dark coat allowed her to blend in with the shadows, and Hornblower found it was easy to pretend she wasn’t there at all. “Is the target in range?” “Aye, sir!” Rayner answered, “Visible on the starboard side!” “Very good. Let’s see how the timing is on the undamaged side before we get a feel for the new cannons.” Hornblower pulled out his watch. “We’ll start by firing each gun individually. You have the deck, Mr. Bush.” Bush immediately stepped forward, crouching down to see out of the holes. “The drill begins now.” Hornblower said, beginning the timer. “Load the guns!” Bush barked, and the men set to work, adding powder and wadding, shoving each item in with practiced ease. Even with two weeks of idleness, they were doing quite well. Hornblower glanced down at his watch. Two minutes to load; passable. “Roll ‘em out!” Bush said, and with a groaning of wheels, the guns lurched forward. “We’re right alongside the target. Fire your gun the moment after the man beside you has. Ready…fire!” Any other orders Bush may have given were subsequently drowned out by the roar of the guns. Despite himself, Hornblower’s heart gave a little leap at the sound. While he certainly had no desire to engage in battle, the crack of gunfire was a return to normalcy, something familiar and almost comforting, implications aside. As the last gun’s retort echoed over the water, Hornblower glanced down at his watch. “Time!” he called out, “Five minutes even. It could be worse, I suppose. And our accuracy?” “Three direct hits, two grazings, one near-miss, three total misses.” “A decent showing. Now let’s see how your accuracy is when firing a broadside.” “If I may, Captain…” Princess Luna’s voice came from the corner, causing him to jump. He turned to face her, “Yes, Your Majesty?” “I find myself rather…caught up in all of this. Would you mind terribly if I gave the order to fire? Mr. Bush may give all the other orders, but I’d like to try my hoof at it.” Hornblower hesitated, then nodded, gesturing her to move forward. As requests went, it was fairly minor, and if she had experience in training her guards, then she would have some form of experience with this. Besides, it wouldn’t do to fall from her good graces at this stage in the drills. The princess beamed at him and stood besides Bush, who nodded respectfully at her. Hornblower held his watch at the ready. “Begin…now!” Things were carried out much as they were before, though Hornblower was gratified that they cut their loading time down by twenty seconds. Bush and the princess peered through the holes as the cannons were rolled out once more. Then Bush stepped aside and gestured for the princess to give the order. She looked at the target once more, then drew herself up and took a deep breath. “FIRE!!!!!!!!” Hornblower dropped his watch and clapped his hands over his ears. The princess’ voice reverberated around the small space, seeming to echo even as she said the word. It was so loud that it completely drowned out the sound of the cannons going off, the men having managed to light the cannons before being overwhelmed by the sound. The men were now on the ground or leaning against the cannons, rubbing at their ears and looking around in bewilderment. Bush was looking at Princess Luna in awe. For her part, the princess had gotten into the spirit of things, pointing a hoof dramatically as she had given the order, eyes closed and ears back against the onset of sound. Perhaps that’s why she looked so surprised when she opened her eyes and took in her surroundings. “Has something gone wrong?” “N-no…” Hornblower said, scrambling for his watch. “Time!” “Your voice is quite…impressive, Princess.” Bush said by way of explanation. “Why, thank you,” she said, looking proud, “It seemed only appropriate to deploy the Royal Canterlot Voice for this occasion. I thought perhaps it would spur the men to do their best.” Hornblower cleared his throat. “Four minutes, twenty seconds. A decent improvement. And the shots?” “Quite a few hits, sir,” Bush reported, “Perhaps two or three misses, with the rest having hit in some form.” Hornblower nodded, the ringing finally fading from his ears. “It will serve. Let’s see if Mr. Gear’s cannons can do the job. To the port side, gentlemen.” The princess returned to her observation space, and Hornblower prepared the watch. “Begin!” The men were falling back into the proper rhythms now, loading and rolling out the cannons in smooth motions, immeasurably improving their former times. Hornblower felt his shoulders relax by a fraction; perhaps it wouldn’t be as difficult as he thought to return the men to fighting form once they’d finally left Equestria behind them. “Fire!” Bush roared, his voice at a much more appropriate volume. The guns went off one by one, each one booming satisfactorily, none looking out of place. It seemed that pony craftsmanship was just as good as humans. Hornblower would have to send his complime… Then a cannon in the middle of the pack let out a strange buzzing noise, and along with the cannonball, disgorged a large amount of bright scraps of paper, some of which remained inside the room and floated cheerfully to the ground. Hornblower’s mouth fell open, but by the time the paper had touched the floor, he had a hand over his eyes. He didn’t even need to ask who was responsible for this. “Sir?” Bush asked tentatively. “Would anyone happen to know if Miss Pinkie Pie made any mention of cannons any of the times that she was on board?” Hornblower asked, trying to keep his voice even. “Yes, sir,” Marsh’s voice floated out from the other side of the room, “She commented to me that she quite liked the look of our cannons, and was going to ask Mr. Gear to make her something just like it. Apparently she has something called a ‘party cannon’ that she uses for decorating. No doubt her order accidentally got mixed in with ours.” “Of course it did,” Hornblower muttered to himself, “It can never be that simple, can it? No matter what happens, she always pops up to make my life still more difficult.” Bush’s voice cut through his frustration. “Your orders, sir?” Still in the grip of irritation, Hornblower spoke without really thinking. “Go eat a boat!” “Sir?” Bush sounded puzzled. Hornblower opened his eyes, realizing his mistake, and scrambled to compose himself. “Go…fetch…the boats, and…lower them…to…bring in the targets. There’s no point in continuing the drills if we have a defective cannon. We will return to the bay and see if we can’t get our actual cannon back from Miss Pie.” “Aye, sir,” Bush saluted, before turning to the men, “You heard the captain! Dismissed! Prepare to bring in the targets and return to port!” “A fair showing, Captain, despite the setback,” Princess Luna piped up from behind him, “I’m sure my sister will be delighted to hear it as well.” “I’m sure,” Hornblower repeated, “But if you’ll excuse me, Your Majesty, I need to see to things above decks.” And he pushed his way into the throng of men, needing a few minutes to pace and clear his head. *** When the Lydia returned to port, the princess vanished in a puff of magic after giving them her compliments once more, and there was a small group of ponies on shore, eager to look over the ship; apparently the sound of gunfire had reached them. Mercifully, Pinkie Pie was not among them, though the three children were, hopping around the ankles of the men and asking all sorts of questions. Hornblower sent men out to locate Mr. Gear and Pinkie Pie, hoping they would be able to make the exchange without too much hassle. That done, he leaned against the starboard side of the ship, looking out to sea. Once they got the cannon mess sorted out, he could send his thanks to Princess Celestia, and then perhaps they would finally be allowed to leave. “Sir?” Bush said from behind him, “May I join you?” “Go ahead, Mr. Bush.” Bush rested his arms on the railing. “Despite the setbacks, were you pleased with the drills, Captain?” Hornblower considered for a moment. “Yes, on the whole. They did an excellent job, considering their unexpected leave and a few unplanned hurdles. They even had the self-composure to put out the fuses before being overwhelmed by the Royal Voice.” “Ah, yes,” Bush chuckled, “Quite impressive, actually. If we weren’t leaving in a few days, I might have asked her to give me lessons. It certainly seems like a useful skill to have.” Hornblower smiled faintly. “It might be, at that. But I’m afraid the strain on my voice would be…” BOOOOOM!!! The deck trembled under their feet, and a plume of grey smoke billowed out from the lower deck. Aghast, Hornblower headed downstairs at a sprint, Bush on his heels. What had happened? Had the paper from the “party cannon” ignited somehow? Or had there been an accident in the kitchens? He got his answer as soon as he reached the bottom of the stairs. One of the starboard cannons had been violently shoved backwards, an ugly tear in the muzzle. The entire area was covered in gunpowder, including Mr. Marsh and the three fillies, who at least had the decency to look chagrined. “I guess we put in too much powder.” the unicorn said, trying to smile at him. “What. Happened.” Hornblower said flatly, his hands curling into fists. “The girls wanted to know how the cannons worked for their school report,” Marsh explained faintly, still in shock, “And I told them. I let them look around while I swept up, and apparently, they got it into their heads to try it for themselves. The next thing I knew, I heard them shout ‘Cutie Mark Crusader gunners!’ and before I could stop them, they had touched a light to the cannon.” “Sweetie Belle!” came a voice, and suddenly Rarity was standing by Hornblower’s side, looking around, utterly aghast. “What have you done? Just look at your mane!” Hornblower made a strangled noise in the back of his throat. Rarity must have heard him, because she glanced up curiously. Whatever she saw made her eyes narrow, and she stalked over to the fillies, levitating one of them up onto her back. “You three are coming right along with me back to the inn, where you are going to get a nice long bath to scrub every bit of powder off you. And while we do that, you’re going to get a few lectures from me, Applejack, and Rainbow Dash.” “Aw, but Rarity!” the filly on her back protested. “No ‘buts,’ young lady!” Rarity scolded her, lifting up the other two, “You’re in such trouble! We told you not to touch anything without permission, and you’d been good enough about it that we thought you could be trusted to be supervised by one of the captain’s men instead of by one of us. Apparently we were sorely mistaken!” She trotted to the stairs, pausing to look up at Hornblower again. “I’m so sorry, Captain. I really thought they knew better. We’ll find a way to make it up to you, won’t we, girls?” “Yes, m’aam.” the girls said meekly. Rarity clucked and carried them up the stairs, still chiding them. “You won’t be coming back to this ship again, except maybe to clean up your mess. Clearly you aren’t ready for this sort of responsibility. Honestly, I expected better of you…” As her voice faded away, Hornblower felt the last threads of his composure snap. He had been doing everything he could to please the ponies and make them feel welcome. And all he was repaid with was stress. On top of which, with new damage to the cannons, they would have to spend yet another day here. “You have the ship, Mr. Bush.” he said faintly. “Horatio?” Bush said softly, “Are you all right?” “You have the ship.” Hornblower repeated, before turning and heading upstairs. He crossed the deck, entered his cabin, locked the door behind him, and proceeded to have a nervous breakdown.