] by 
The dead may tell no tales...
“Sails on the horizon!” a leaf-green pegasus with a maroon mane called down from the crow’s nest, “She’s to our aft! She’s flying—” the pegasus, steadying his bronze spyglass, froze as he spotted the black flag flapping violently from the other ship’s mainmast. The vicious movement making the dark flag look eager to close the distance, as if it were a timberwolf digging at a rabbit’s warren for a tasty meal.
A grinning, red pony’s skull over a crimson dagger lay over the wavering black cloth, a red beard sprouting from the skull’s chin. The pegasus almost dropped his spyglass, limbs quaking with fear as he failed to control his bladder.
“What’s she flyin, Pan!?” the captain, a gold-yellow unicorn by the name of Gilded Prow, called back, his voice muffled by the distance and the crashing of waves against the Majestic Pride’s heavy hulls. He strode about the deck below as he oversaw its scrubbing.
“She’s flyin a pirate’s flag!” Pan called back down, throwing a fearful glance after the reply.
“She’s flyin a what, now?” Prow called back up, looking to Pan. He spied the other’s frightened expression as he gazed down.
“Pirate flag!” Pan called back down, “She’s a pirate vessel!”
Prow froze for a moment before wheeling around and running aft. Galloping up the stairs leading to the ship’s aftcastle, he pulled a spyglass from his belt with his magic. As he came to the railing at the back of the aftcastle, he pressed the spyglass to his face, the color draining from it at the sight.
“Ready battlestations!” Prow called out, “pirate ship on the horizon!”
“Ready battlestations!” another voice called out, frantic cries of the crew emanating from behind the captain.
Prow kept the glass to his eye, sizing up the other vessel. She was a moderately sized galleon, three black masts sticking up like spines of some primordial beast, all brimming with fat sails. This and the flag identified the ship and her captain, both names chilling Prow’s gut with fear.
“Captain Prow,” a strong voice asked from behind Prow, “Who is she?”
“She-she’s the Sacrilegious Saint,” Prow stuttered, turning to see a golden-armored unicorn member of the Royal Guard, “Lieutenant Overcharge, your troops—”
“Are prepared for whatever Captain Powder Burn decides to throw at us,” Overcharge answered, eyes turning from Prow to the distant pirate ship, “How long until she reaches us?”
Prow turned back to the open ocean, looking through his spyglass just to confirm what he already knew.
“She’s a modified galleon, sharper prow, thinner body, she’s a much faster ship,” Prow replied, “At the distance she’s at...” Prow made a quick calculation in his head, “one, maybe two, hours.”
“I suggest putting up full sail, we need to keep up the guise that we aren’t out here looking for trouble,” Overcharge said before turning and trotting down to the deck to his troops.
“Let’s give her all the sail we can!” Prow called down to his crew, “Patcher! See if we can get a few more knots out of this wind!”
“Aye, captain!” a pony below called back before directing his attention to other sailors.
“Princesses help us and this crazy, fucking plan,” Prow said to himself, throwing a fearful glance back towards the pirate ship.
< ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ >
Some time later…
Even with full sails that were loaded with wind, the Majestic Pride was no match for the Sacrilegious Saint when it came to speed. Celestia’s sun had dropped near the horizon by now, casting the pirate ship’s silhouette against a fiery orange sky.
“I-I think I’m having second thoughts about this…” Prow trailed off, “M-maybe we should run a flag of surrender,” Prow said, fearfully staring off at the approaching ship, “We could negotiate, give them all of our cargo and—”
“That’s not Captain Bonnet or Book, Captain Prow,” Overcharge cut in from Prow’s side, “Nor any of the other merciful ones. You knew what you were getting into when you accepted this quest, and you know the payoff when we bring back that pirate bastard’s head on a—” there was a puff of smoke at the other ship’s bow. Overcharge grabbed Prow, dragging him down as he hit the deck, “Incoming!” he yelled.
There was a crack of cannonfire and a splash as a cannonball hit the water off to one side of the Majestic Pride.
“Combat casters! Assemble at aftcastle!” Overcharge yelled, “Prep pooled fireball, aim for enemy sails! Fire at will!”
“Yes sir!” Overcharge’s four combat casters replied, galloping up the stairs to the aftcastle as they charged their horns.
The four assembled in a diamond formation pointed at the Sacrilegious Saint. Each began to fuel a growing ball of flaming energy, pooling their collective magic into one massive strike. The ball of heat grew in size and temperature until it was a few yards in diameter, blazing like a miniature sun above them. Sweat poured from the four combat casters’ brows as they strained to get every bit of magic they could into the attack.
The Sacrilegious Saint fired off another shot with one of its two bow chaser guns, this time the shot sailed overhead, clipping one of the sails.
“Th-they’re not going to damage my ship with that...r-right?” Prow asked Overcharge, wincing at the cannonfire.
“If there was any chance they’d lose control like that, they wouldn’t be here,” Overcharge replied proudly, “Those four are some the best of the best fire mages the Royal Guard has to offer. We may be stocked with fewer combat-worthy ponies...” he turned his stoic gaze to Prow, “but what we’ve got is the best of the best.”
Once they were ready, the four launched the fireball towards the pirate vessel. It arced overhead, just slower than an arrow as it followed a mortar-like trajectory.
Three-quarters of the way there, the projectile began to slow, veering off course.
“Damnit, they’ve got their own combatative magic casters,” Overcharge swore as the fireball was thrown into the water, sizzling out with a massive burst of steam.
“So you can’t do anything!?” Prow exclaimed.
“Casters! Rapid fireball strikes, spread them out and be ready to counter!” Overcharge ordered, ignoring Prow, “Fire at will!”
The four casters, holding their diamond formation, began to rapidly dish out fireballs. Another puff from one of the Sacrilegious Saint’s bow chasers flew overhead, a piece of chain-shot ripping through two sails on the rear two masts and clipping another on the third before clearing the ship. The sails fluttered, growing weaker with their newfound holes, the Majestic Pride began to slow a little.
The smaller, flaming projectiles flew much faster and with straighter trajectories towards the pirate vessel. Much to Overcharge’s delight, it appeared the pirate’s casters couldn’t get them all, only some of the fireballs veering off.
A few struck the hull, low. They puffed out against the wet wood or were put out as the ship bobbed low enough that the waves washed over them. Overcharge’s smile faded as the fireballs that struck the enemy ship’s sails also failed to cause any damage.
“He’s got enchanted sails!” Overcharge called, “Correct fire to deck and personnel! Fire at will!”
“Correcting fire!” one of the casters reported as they began to concentrate their fire towards the deck of the enemy vessel.
Another blast tore more holes through the Majestic Pride’s sails, speed dropping even more as she lost more wind. Suddenly, small balls of light began to appear on the enemy vessel. At first it appeared as if the deck was igniting, but then they began to launch forwards.
“Shit, full counter-missile spells!” Overcharge ordered as the enemy shots came in, stepping forwards as well, “Spear-wielders, counter-missile spells!”
“Yes sir!” a voice called from the deck.
All nine Royal Guards, four casters, four spear-wielders, and Overcharge, began firing off telekinetic blasts at the incoming enemy fireballs, knocking them away.
“Everypony grab water buckets!” Prow yelled down to his crew, “Be ready to deal with any fires as quickly as possible!”
Even with all nine Guards shooting down the incoming fireballs, a few were able to sneak through. Most hit the hull, only a few fires lingering before salty sea-spray doused them. Others hit the deck and sails. Sailors rushed forwards at these, tossing buckets of water over them as fast as they could.
Another piece of chain-shot was thrown at the ship. The projectile struck one of the pegasi who had flown up to douse some flames on the sail. One of the metallic cannonballs smashed through his midsection, spraying blood and shredded guts over the sail before the chain-shot itself continued through, ripping through the sail. The pegasus fell silently to the deck with a wet thud, blood gushing out from the massive hole in his side.
Prow drew his eyes away from the sight before the contents of his stomach could escape.
Two more cannon blasts from the Sacrilegious Saint’s bow chasers roared forth, a mass of grapeshot peppering the sails and a few pegasi trying to dampen a blaze on them. The ones that weren’t killed instantly fell to the deck with cries of pain, adding to the chaos.
“Keep away from the sails!” Prow called out to his crew, “Stay low to the deck and make sure the blaze doesn’t spread to it!”
“Everypony grab weapons! Marlinspikes, belaying pins, cooking knives and pans, saws and hammers! Anything you can find that could be used as a weapon!” Overcharge yelled down from the aftcastle, “Troops, hold down there, take a defensive posture,” he said, troops cantering down the steps without hesitation, “May the princess watch over us today of all days.”
“Here she comes!” a sailor yelled from below as the pirate vessel came abeam to starboard.
A mass of grappling hooks flew over from the enemy vessel, latching onto the railing and rigging before growing tight. The few sailors brave enough to try to pull or cut them loose were knocked away with fireballs and telekinetic punches from the Sacrilegious Saint’s unicorns.
“Two prep pooled firewall! Hold position!” Overcharged yelled down to his combat casters.
The two ships bumped up against each other as the pirates pulled their grappling lines tight. A cheer went up as two boarding ramps were dropped across the railing, pirates leaping up and charging forwards with war cries.
“Firewall! Now!” Overcharge ordered, two of his four combat casters igniting their horns and throwing up a wall of fire between the two ships, halting any boarding attempts. A few pained cries went up from the other side of the crackling flames, pirates that had been crossing the boarding ramp.
“Keep those spears at the ready!” Overcharge called again to the four spear-wielding Guards, their tense stances ready to thrust forwards, “Reserve casters, prep firewall! Primary casters, just say when!”
“Good for now, sir!” one of them replied with a foolhardy smile, “We can hold this thing up for as long—”
A small, black sphere flew over the wall of fire, clunking heavily onto the deck just in front of the combat caster who had spoken. The grenade rolled up to his hoof, hissing fuse hopping down into the flash-hole.
Before the caster could cry out, the grenade detonated. The defensive shield generated by his armor shattered as he was thrown away, one of his white legs nothing but a mess of shredded, black meat and bone.
Bits of shrapnel peppered the other Guards, their shields protecting them. A few of the ship’s sailors weren’t so lucky, bits of razor-sharp metal piercing soft cloth and flesh. The sailors cried out in pain, falling to the deck as those nearest them began frantically trying to heal their wounds.
The firewall faltered, only one Guard still actively casting the spell as the other lay dead or dying on the deck.
“Reserve! Counter-missile protection!” Overcharge cried out, not fast enough.
Before either of the reserve casters could react, two large ceramic pots were tossed from the pirate’s vessel. The heavy pots hit the deck in the middle of the Guards, shattering and spewing forth foul-smelling mixtures.
The Guards faltered again, the stench of the stinkpots causing them to gag and retch, falling back. The firewall fell, cheering pirates rushing forwards as they waved various weapons.
“Repel boarders!” Overcharge called out, charging his horn and firing off three crackling bolts of electricity town to the deck. Each struck a pirate in the chest, knocking them back with smoking black holes where the bolts had struck. None of them got back up.
The Guards, still choking on the horrid fumes, fell back, firing off spells that felled or knocked away the incoming swarm of pirates. The spear-wielders thrusted forwards, skewering enemies that gave cries of pain before knocking them away with telekinetic blasts.
It wasn’t enough.
The pirates swarmed over from the Sacrilegious Saint, the blades of their weapons glinting in the sunlight as they cut through flesh and bone. The Guards, nearest the boarding ramps, were quickly cut down, shields and armor failing against so many attackers.
They did their best, firing off blasts of magic and striking with their spears. Both attacks felled pirates, but for every one that was slain, another two took his place with just as much gusto. Blood spurted from deep wounds, armor caving in under the more massive blows, cries of victory and pain played a violent duet of death, an orchestra of weapons hacking away.
Most of the crew scattered, dropping their weapons and fleeing belowdecks or over the side of the vessel. Others fell to the deck, begging and crying for mercy.
The pirates chased after the first two groups, leaping into water that grew red with blood and galloping belowdecks after fleeing quarry. They left those who had chosen to surrender where they lay...for now, a few jeering or poking at them with weapons.
“W-we must surrender!” Prow stuttered to Overcharge as he stood glaring down at the carnage below, horn at the ready, “I c-can’t watch as my—” Prow trailed off as he gagged, turning away from the bloody battle below before he lost his lunch.
“Get to the aft longboat, Captain. The sun will be gone by the time they spot you, they aren’t going to waste time chasing down one boat,” Overcharge retorted, not looking back to the other unicorn.
“But m-my crew! I can’t leave—”
“Your crew is dead, Captain Prow,” Overcharge growled, turning to the other, “and so are you if you stay aboard this ship.”
“You don’t know that!” Prow retorted, throwing a fearful glance down towards the deck. It seemed that none of the pirates below had spotted them...yet, “There’s still a chance we can negotia—”
“We both know that’s a load of shit, Captain. Get aboard your boat!”
“A-and what about you, hmm? You’re j-just going to stay here and die, then!?” Prow yelled back. The carnage below was beginning to die down, soon the pirates would spot the two arguing ponies on the aftcastle.
Overcharge didn’t reply immediately, holding Prow’s gaze for a few seconds before opening his mouth.
“I’m prepared to die today, should our plan call for it, so shall it be. Are you?”
“I—”
“Prepared to die, are you?” a new voice spoke up behind the pair, “Well then let’s put that to the test!”
Overcharge gave a warlike cry, spinning where he stood and firing off an electrical blast. His enemy, a dirty brown unicorn with spark-orange eyes and a greasy black beard and mane, hopped towards Overcharge’s flank, dodging the blast. He wore a beat-up looking hat with a wide brim and a disheveled black shirt. A belt hung around his midsection with an empty dagger’s sheath attached to it.
A gleaming dagger was clutched in the pirate’s magical grip, dirty smile creasing his lips as he rammed the blade into a portion of Overcharge’s unarmored hide. The blade bounced off Overcharge’s armor’s shield, a golden glimmer flaring up at the attack.
Overcharge countered with a telekinetic punch, ignoring the dagger. The pirate countered with a misdirection spell, catching the punch and throwing it at Captain Prow. The attack threw Prow off his hooves, sending him skidding into the wooden railing with an ‘oof!’
Again the dagger rushed forwards, clutched in the pirate’s red aoura. Overcharge directed a telekinetic blast at the weapon this time, the force knocking it out of the other’s grip and sending it clattering away.
His weapon gone, the pirate resorted to more mundane means as he leapt forwards, throwing a punch to Overcharge’s head. Overcharge absorbed the blow, a clang ringing as the pirate’s thick hoof met Overcharge’s metal helm, his shield flaring again.
With the pirate at point blank range, Overcharge threw himself forwards, tackling his enemy and raining down an army of hoof strikes with his metallic tramplers. The pirate did his best to block, the attacks with his forehooves, absorbing a few of the blows before countering with a throw.
Grabbing the Guard with his magic, the pirate threw him off before Overcharge could break the grab. The throw sent Overcharge over the first few steps leading from the aftcastle to the deck below. He tumbled downwards, trying his best to absorb the blows as best he could, shield glowing violently with each strike against the stairs and finally shattering as he hit the deck, pirates leaping away from the sudden intruder.
Stunned and dizzy from his tumble, Overcharge tried to get to his hooves as the pirates closed in with weapons raised. He knew he wouldn’t be fast enough as the blades cut deep into...
“This one’s mine!” Overcharge’s adversary called from above. The pirates instantly rushed back at the unicorn’s cry, genuine fear showing in their features, “The first of you ugly fucks to touch him gets fried from the inside out!”
Overcharge, now on his hooves, glared up at the unicorn as he retrieved his dagger and sheathed it with magic. Smiling his ugly smile, he began to descend.
“That’d make you Captain Powder Burn, then,” Overcharge stated with a glare, taking a defensive stance as he faced the captain.
“What? You didn’t know that already?” Powder Burn sneered, “Last I checked, they had plenty of ‘Warning’ pictures of me at every harbor out of Equestria. Don’t tell me you don’t recognise me?”
“I’ve seen the pictures,” Overcharge replied with a quick sneer, “I think they messed up and took a picture of your hindquarters instead of your face. Small mistake, but from the look of things, it’s your better side.”
Despite the circumstances, the pirates around Overcharge burst into muffled snickers and chuckles at the insult.
Powder Burn halted three-quarters of the way down the stairs to the deck, glaring angrily over his crew, “What the hell are you lot laughing—”
Powder Burn was cut off as Overcharge fired another electrical blast at him. The pirate captain hopped to one side, the blast skimming the edge of one hoof and impacting the stairs where he’d been standing, leaving a sooty black mark.
“You rotten, gelding bastard!” Powder Burn yelled, charging down.
The pirate charged and cast a fireball spell at Overcharge. The Guard caught the ball of flaming energy and flung it back at Powder Burn. The pirate didn’t falter, being a master of fire magic, he galloped through the fireball, absorbing it and throwing a punch to Overcharge’s head.
Caught off guard by the pirate’s unfazed attack, a blast of stars exploded across his vision as the hoof connected with his head, his shield still down, sending him reeling to one side.
Powder Burn, planting his forehooves firmly on the ground, wheeled about and delivered a buck right to Overcharge’s chest, sending him skidding away with a clank of horseshoes-on-armor.
Overcharge crashed into a few of the pirates, who spat out curses as they were bowled over. Getting back up, they shoved the recovering Overcharge back into the fray with supportive cries to their captain.
“You’ve got him, cap’n!”
“Gut the bast’d like a pig!”
“Gouge the fuckers’s eyes out!”
“Cut off his pecker an’ throw it to the fish!”
“Break off ‘is ‘orn an’ stab ‘im wit’ it!”
Powder Burn smiled, waiting patiently as Overcharge got to his hooves again. A small trickle of blood flowed from a wound on the side of his head under his helmet. The pirate’s horn glowed dully as he prepared a new spell.
Getting to his hooves again, Overcharge glared at his opponent, charging his own horn with a spell.
Silence filled the deck as the two unicorns faced each other, silently daring the other to make the first move.
Overcharge shouted out another war cry, firing off an electric blast and charging towards Powder Burn’s left flank. There was a massive flare of heat as Powder Burn created a small shield in the electric blast’s path, the high resistance of the super-intense heat grounding out the attack. Magical attack taken care of, Powder Burn again wheeled about and bucked out at Overcharge as he came within range.
The Guard, however, ducked under the attack, sliding under his opponent and striking upwards into Powder Burn’s underbelly with a hoof. The strike sent Powder Burn in an arc that ended with him on his back, gasping for air that had been knocked from his lungs.
Overcharge jumped on his opponent, charging up another magical attack as he started raining down more strikes on his enemy. As with before, Powder Burn tried to throw his attacker away. But Overcharge was ready, breaking the telekinetic grip as Powder Burn began to throw him away and resuming his attack.
Another electrical blast ready, Overcharge aimed right at Powder Burn’s face. At point blank range, there was nothing the pirate could do...except kick the Guard right in the balls with a hind hoof.
Overcharge gagged with pain, collapsing off to one side as he gripped his injured anatomy, folding up as he lay helpless in pain. Powder Burn rolled over, hopping up and striking Overcharge in the ribs.
The Guard rolled onto his belly, providing less of his stark-white fur and more of his golden armor as he tried to recover. Powder Burn pinned Overcharge to the ground with his slightly larger body, snaking one hoof around the Guard’s neck.
Overcharge’s eyes bulged from his skull as Powder Burn tightened his vice-like grip around his quarry’s windpipe. The Guard grabbed at the pirate’s muscled limb, trying to pull it away and striking at it as that failed. Powder Burn held through, the strikes not loosening his grip.
Overcharge fired off a few more magical blasts, none of them connecting as he was unable to get line of sight on the pirate.
“So tell me, Guard. Are you ready to die yet?” Powder Burn jeered as Overcharge continued to struggle for breath, tail thrashing in tune with his body as he began to froth at the mouth.
Overcharge continued to buck out with his hind hooves, each kick weaker than the next as black spots danced across his vision. The strikes against Powder Burn’s grip grew lighter and lighter, the intervals between each one growing greater and greater.
The pirates seemed to hold their collective breath as they watched Overcharge struggle, his mouth opening and closing as he tried to get air past his constricted airway.
After only a few more seconds, the light finally faded from Overcharge’s eyes as his weak struggling grew still. A puddle of urine began to form around his crotch as he released his bladder in the throes of death. Powder Burn held his vice-like grip around the other pony’s throat a few moments longer, ensuring that he was dead before standing.
The pirates around him cheered, thrusting their weapons skywards. The few prisoners that had been dragged into a small circle grew even more downtrodden, setting their fearful eyes on the deck.
Prow was similarly affected, leaning weakly against the railing of the aftcastle, all hope lost with the pirates in control of his ship. He jumped at a shout from below.
“Captain Gilded Prow! Seems it’s time for you to offer your official surrender!” Powder Burn called up towards the aftcastle.
Prow gave a frightful whinny at the mention of his name. He ducked down in an effort to make himself harder to spot against the railing.
“Don’t think I don’t see you up there! Either you come down or I send my crew up to drag you down those stairs.”
“Shit!” Prow spat, lifting his head above the railing he’d been hiding behind, putting on what he hoped was a smile that didn’t make him look scared shitless, “N-no need to send up anypony!” Prow said with a nervous laugh, “I-I’m coming!” he continued, trotting on quivering legs down the stairs to the deck.
The pirates gave growls as Prow got down to their level, making Prow flinch and flatten his ears submissively.
Powder Burn waited, smiling coldly at the other Captain.
“So glad you could join us here, Captain Prow,” the pirate gloated.
“Um-uh-yes,” Prow stuttered, “I s-surrender...to you, Captain Powder Burn.”
The pirate crew let up cheers at the good news, their cries further making their quarry tremble with fright.
“That isn’t gonna cut it,” Powder Burn stated as the cheering died down, not breaking eye contact with Prow.
“Wh-what?” Prow stuttered, eyes constantly flicking away from his enemy’s blazing pair.
“Well the way I see it, you haven’t yet properly surrendered until you’ve got a white flag up top the mizzenmast,” Powder Burn said, gesturing up to the Equestrian flag flapping up atop the main mast, “So how about you go climb up there and put up a white flag. Otherwise, how am I supposed to know that you’ve properly surrendered, ey?” the pirate captain finished with an ugly smile.
“B-but you have my words. As captain of this vessel I...I surrender to you,” Prow stuttered, “Please, just take what you want and—”
“That isn’t gonna cut it, captain,” Powder Burn cut in, voice still in its dead-calm tone, just loud enough to be heard over the crashing of the sea below, “You see, I need you to take this and tie it up there, okay?” the pirate said, his tone demanding, as he held out a scrap of white cloth, “Or else I’m gonna start carving up your crew like that privateering bastard of a bird Bone Marrow does. And trust me,” his face twisted into a gruesome smile as he touched a hoof to the knife at his belt, “they’ll be alive a long time before the screaming finally stops.”
Prow, eyes fearful at the threat, looked towards what remained of his cowering crew, the lot of them shaking with fear and giving quiet prayers for their lives.
“F-fine,” Prow agreed, taking the white cloth in his magic and turning to the rigging.
“Ap!” Powder Burn tisked, bringing the other captain’s eyes back to him, “You go up the mast! No challenge in climbing up the ropes, now is there?” the pirate continued, gesturing with his ugly smile towards the thick mast sprouting from the middle of the Majestic Pride.
“B-but—”
“Do you want me to pick one of you crew to start torturing?” Captain Powder Burn inquired, “We’ve sure got plenty to choose from, don’t we, colts!?”
His crew replied with more jabs and jeers at their captives, making grabs for a few as if selecting them for the torturing session. The grabbed ponies gave fearful cries, pulling or scrambling back to the continued laughter of the pirates.
“Fine, then,” Prow replied, tucking the scrap of cloth into his shirt and approaching the mast. Knowing he wouldn’t be able to climb it normally, he undid his belt and wrapped it around the opposite side of the mast. Gripping it with his forehooves, he used it to start his climb.
He planted his hind hooves firmly against the mast, using the belt to shimmy up it at a slow pace.
Powder Burn watched with a sneer as Prow made his sluggish way upwards, wind tugging gently at him.
Powder Burn and most of the others on board, pirates and legitimate sailors alike, watched as the Majestic Pride’s captain continued upwards. Powder Burn’s sneering smile creased, ever so slowly, into a bored frown.
“You’re going rather slow now, don’t you think, Captain Prow?” Powder Burn called up, something dangerous in his voice.
Prow detected the underlying tone, fear creeping its way up his spine as he threw a glance downwards. He was already a third of the way up, a fall would easily kill him already if he wasn’t careful.
“G-going as f-fast as I can, Captain Burn!” Prow called back.
“That’s Captain Powder Burn, to you, you fucking gelding!” Powder Burn called upwards, “Whether that’s as fast as you can go or not, I’m gonna have to speed things up a bit!” the pirate captain gestured towards an earth pony with a large axe strapped across his back, “Split Grain here’s my ship’s carpenter, and I think he’s taken a fancy to your mizzenmast!” Powder Burn called up as Prow continued up the mast, “Isn’t that right, mister Split Grain?”
“Aye, Cap’n,” the darkly colored earth pony with a braided beard replied, eyes looking up and down a small section of the mast, “fine wood this’d make if’n it was aboard our ship!”
Prow froze, wide eyes staring down at the ground as the earth pony drew his axe, balancing on his hind legs as he gripped the weapon with his forehooves.
“Some incentive to hurry it up, Captain Prow!” Powder Burn called up as Split Grain made his first swing, the blade sending small wood chippings in all directions.
“B-but you...you said...” Prow trailed off, a queasy feeling rising from the depths of his fear-filled gut.
“Bet ya ten bits says he’ll fall before the mast does!” one of Powder Burn’s pirates said, gaze upwards, “Who’s in?”
“Nah, mate! Twelve to Split Grain getting the mast down before he goes!” another wagered.
“Anyone set to put any on the bastard makin it up and down?” a third pirate called.
“Nah, fool’s screwed more’n a whore at a port outta Prance!” another said with a laugh, a few others chuckling along.
“Hey! There’s no sort of gambling aboard my ship!” Powder Burn yelled before anyone else could place bets, “You bunch of inbred whoresons know that!”
“But...this ain’t our ship, cap’n,” one pirate reasoned, looking to Powder Burn.
His crew as a whole turned their eyes to him, throwing occasional glances up the mast. Split Grain continued to hack into the wooden surface, his axe going deeper and deeper into it with each powerful strike. By now Prow was half-way up the mast, hurrying in his life-threatening race against Split Grain’s axe.
“Okay, fine. But if I catch any of you morons betting aboard the Sacrilegious Saint...” Powder Burn decided, trailing off. His crew burst into frenzied calls and wagers on the fate of the enemy captain. The sneering smile returned to the pirate captain’s face, his eyes rising to Captain Prow.
‘C’mon, Prow! You’ve got this! This mast is as thick as that earth pony is wide! You’ve got plenty of time!’ he cheered himself on, though his eyes were constantly drawn downwards and his stomach heavy with fearful doubt.
“C’mon, Split Grain! Hack into it!” one of the pirates of the second wager called.
“Nah, maybe let up a little, colt!” another of the opposite wager countered, a few others chiming in with yays and neighs as to the carpenter’s speed at which he hacked away at the mast.
Two thirds of the way up, the feeling in Prow’s gut began to lessen, the prospect of victory growing in his mind. Below, Split Grain had chopped a third of the way through the mast, the cheers of pirates egging him on.
‘C’mon, Prow!’ Captain Prow gave himself a silent cheer, the muscles of his limbs only somewhat heavy with fatigue, his breathing and heartbeat quickened, ‘Not much further!’
“C’mon, you dumb bastard!” one of the pirates called upwards, “Just damned fall already!”
“Yeah! It’s not that long a drop!” another called out.
“Ay! Don’t encourage him!” a third cried back.
“Yeah! Not yet at least!” a fourth laughed, “Wait till Split Grain’s got the mast down, then let the dumb gelding fall!”
“Oh, you be quiet!” the second replied annoyedly.
A few more shimmies and Prow was at the top of the mast, the Equestrian flag waving atop its pole as if to congratulate him on getting this far.
Quickly, using his magic, he pulled the scrap of white cloth from his shirt and set it against a spot above the other flag. So concentrated and filled with growing relief as he focused on tying the white cloth into a knot around the pole, Prow didn’t notice one of his hind hooves slipping until it was too late.
Just as he finished the knot, his left rear hoof slipped on the wood. Prow gave a startled cry, his attempt to regain his footing only swinging him around wildly to the right. The belt he was using to climb grew slack as he fell, ripping from his grip as it jerked tight again, too fast and hard for him to hold on.
With nothing keeping him secured to the mast, he fell. Waving his limbs, he hit the ground faster than he could release a scream. He impacted with a sickening smack, a blast of blood splattering around him, shattered bones turning his body into a warped figure.
Some of the sailors, hopes of their captain’s success dashed across the deck like Prow’s brains, threw up at the gory sight. Some of the pirates nearest them lashed out with hooves of the blunts of their weapons as their hooves were splattered with the stuff.
Cheers and groans were had amongst the pirates, those losers of the wager coughing up bits for their gloating comrades.
“Nice belt, he’s got here!” one of the pirate’s nearest Prow’s body said, stooping forwards to grab the belt.
“Thing ain’t gonna fit round you, ye fat old cow!” another pirate teased, punching his counterpart in the shoulder playfully
“Yer the one to speak, ye daft ass!” the other jeered back.
“Listen up, you lot!” Powder Burn called out, “Fun’s over, let’s get to bringing whatever they’ve got aboard! See if we can get it all over before moonrise!”
The chore of transporting ill-gotten goods between the ships was a rather dull and somewhat painful task when it came to heavier items. The pirates worked in shifts, alternating between watching the few remaining prisoners and hauling up cargo.
While they didn’t outright kill any of the cowering sailors, the more agitated crew members, those that had been injured in battle, gave their quivering quarry the occasional kick or slap.
The pirates took nearly everything. Precious cargo, money, spare sails and rope, a few tools. Unused cloth and spare wood from the sailmaster’s and carpenter’s quarters; all the food and drink from the hull. Anything of any value or use that could be moved from one ship to the other without too much effort.
...All the while occasionally bringing large barrels down into the belly of their captured ship.
< ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ >
Hours later…
Captain Powder Burn stood at the Sacrilegious Saint’s stern, forehooves leaning casually over the railing. He glared viciously at the shrinking figure of the Majestic Pride, naked of any sails, what was left of her crew trying to fashion whatever they could into makeshift sails.
Powder Burn’s Quartermaster, a pony named Slow Match, approached with a pilfered bottle of booze floating before him. He was also a unicorn, but with a much lighter color scheme than his superior.
“Drink, Captain?” Slow Match inquired with a smile, offering forth the bottle to his Captain.
“You know I don’t drink, Slow Match,” Powder Burn replied.
Slow Match gave a shrug, pulling the bottle back to him and gulping a large portion down.
“Would be rude not to offer it, Captain,” Slow Match said, wiping his mug.
“About how much longer?” Powder Burn inquired, eyes still glued to the shrinking shape of the crippled Majestic Pride.
“Any second now, captain,” Slow Match replied.
< ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ >
Aboard the Magestic Pride…
“It’s blocked by something!” a sailor exclaimed, giving the door an extra hard shove as if to prove it wouldn’t budge, his wings giving an agitated twitch.
“Well then grab something to pry it open. We need to find some spare sails!” a second sailor replied, his horn lighting the darkness as he looked about for something to use.
“How do you even know there’s any in here?” the first sailor asked, glaring at the door.
“I don’t,” the second sailor replied, “but we’ve got to search the ship top to bottom, look for anything that we can use,” he continued, retrieving a long, metal bar, “Now stand aside.”
The first sailor did as he was told and the second shoved his impromptu pry bar into place. Putting all his strength into it, he heaved on the metal, the door groaning in complaint.
“Help me...will you?” the second sailor spat between gritted teeth, his partner stepping in and lending his strength.
There was a crashing sound as whatever was blocking the door fell out of the way, the door flying open. The two ponies collapsed in a tangle of hooves on the floor, the pry bar clanging away.
“Agh! Get off me, you oaf!” the first sailor exclaimed, squirming away and brushing himself off.
“You’re on me, dumbass,” the second countereed, turning his glare from his partner to the open room, “Now let’s…” he froze, looking confused at the contents of the room, “Are those...barrels of powder?”
< ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ >
Back aboard the Sacrilegious Saint…
With a great cloud of fire and black smoke, the Majestic Pride erupted into a mass of shattered timbers and flaming planks. The sound of the explosion hesitated before throwing itself against the fleeing pirate ship, the sound of it making most of her crew jump and flatten their ears.
A smile crept its way across Captain Powder Burn’s face, the shockwave nearly blowing away his hat as it ruffled his beard and mane. A rowdy wave slammed up against the Sacrilegious Saint, propelled by the explosion.
Debris began to rain down on two massive chunks of split and burning hull, the deathly rain making the sea boil up.
“You ever think we should let some of them live, Captain?” Slow Match inquired, looking to his captain, “After all, the dead tell no tales.”
Powder Burn was silent for a short moment, content to watch the sinking, burning remains of the merchant vessel.
“The dead may tell no tales,” Powder Burn fianlly spoke, the flames refleted in his spark-orange eyes, “but the nightmares their silence brings is more than enough to drive fear into weak hearts.”
THE END