//------------------------------// // Riders on the Storm // Story: A Passing Through Kamen Rider // by thunderclap //------------------------------// Wyatt laid on his bunk, checking his camera to see if the salt water had damaged it. He was desperate to take his mind off home, meticulously examining every piece of it. He knew Spike didn’t mean to offend him, but that didn’t stop the comment from dredging up a veritable mountain of guilt. Clawing at the corners of his mind, a little voice kept trying to nag at him that it was his fault he had wound up in Equestria. “I’m doing something good,” Wyatt muttered to himself, tightening his grip around the camera. “I’m keeping people safe from monsters only I can fight.” He hoped he could convince that little voice, repeating those thoughts to himself again and again. By the time he thoroughly  checked the entire camera twice, the little voice died down enough for him to relax a bit. He sighed in relief, setting the camera down next to him and rubbing at his eyes with his forefinger and thumb. “He didn’t mean anything by it,” he said to himself, rising to his feet. “I really wish I could talk to Agito. He’s gotta have some advice on dealing with this.” Deciding he had sulked enough, he bid the still sleeping girls a goodbye, and stepped back out onto the deck. He put his hands on the railing, frowning when he spotted a blanket of dark clouds approaching the ship. “Great, and now there’s going to be a storm.” He pushed away from the railing, finding cover but remaining on the deck as he stared out at the ocean. “Oi! You there, furless colt!” the captain, an older mare with a bright red mane shouted over at him. “Get your flank over here! We need all hands on deck for the storm!” “Can do!” Wyatt called back, jogging over to the mare. He didn’t bother to correct her; he wasn’t in the mood to explain what he really was again. He stood in front of the mare. “What can I do to help?” “Go help Orange with the sails!” she ordered, pointing towards the mast. “Iffin’ ya see that scaley friend of yers, tell ‘im to come see me, ya got it?” She poked his chest, looking into his eyes. Wyatt nodded, turning towards the mast. “Alright, I’ll be sure to tell him.” He jogged over to a green stallion who had a bright orange mane poking out from under a bandana. “Captain sent me to help with the sails, what can I do?” “We gotta replace these sails with the storm jibs and trysail,” Orange answered, pulling at the riggings. “Help me undo these knots boy.” “I’ll do my best.” Wyatt knelt down to the bottom of the riggings, finding a knot that looked easy to untie. He tugged at the ropes, finding the end and feeding it through the loops. “Heh, I can put sailor on my resume now,” he muttered to himself, trying to ignore his now wet clothes. “Worry ‘bout helpin’ us through the storm first, boy,” Orange replied with a chuckle, his hands moving in a blur as he worked the ropes. “Get yerself some sailor’s hands, the mares love to feel a sailor’s hands.” Wyatt chuckled back, finally finishing his first knot and moving onto the next one. “Not exactly looking for a mare at the moment. Just trying to get settled in, ya know?” A lightning strike above made him cringe. “Can’t we have the pegasi go clear the storm?” “With winds like those they’d get sent crashing down to the sea,” Orange answered, his eyes never leaving the sails. “And that’d be the best case. Worst case is they make it to the clouds and catch all that lightning between the eyes. Even the feather heads aren’t immune to lightnin’.” “You make a good point,” Wyatt relented, falling onto his elbow as a large wave broke onto the deck and sent the ship rocking. He hissed under his breath as he managed to undo another knot. “I gotta say,” he started, spitting out the salt water that had gotten into his mouth. “I vastly prefer calm waters to stormy seas.” Orange laughed, giving Wyatt a hearty slap across the back. “Aye, boy, you n’ me both. Now, enough chit chat, we gotta finish gettin’ this sail switched.” “What, not sailor enough to chat and get this done quickly?” Wyatt teased, adjusting the ropes in his hands. He frowned when Orange merely grunted at him. “Fine, I'll pick up the pace.” Pausing for a moment, he added. “You scurvy dog.” Orange jabbed a finger at Wyatt and grunted. “Don’t go tossin’ that term around all willy nilly, it carries weight with sailors. Now, work if ya want t’make it out o’ this storm.” “Right...” Wyatt muttered, allowing Orange to order him around as the stallion saw fit. Glancing out of the corner of his eye, Wyatt spotted Spike running to and fro, most likely under orders. He turned back from Spike, helping Orange pull the sail down. He watched as a group of sailors took it, folded it and took it below deck. They quickly returned with folded set of sails that looked thicker than the one from before. “Ha!” Wyatt shouted into the storm, pumping a fist into the air. Orange slapped him upside the head, shoving part of the sail into his hands. “Don’t taunt the ocean, boy. That never ends well. Now, help me rig these up.” “Right...” Casting a glance at the sea, Wyatt joined the others in rigging up the new sail. The work took a while, Wyatt stumbling over the knots. He took a moment to watch the other sailors, doing his best to mimic their motions. “This kinda life is definitely not for me...” he grumbled, brushing some hair out of his face. “Ya still got yer land legs,” Orange said with a chuckle, hoisting one of the sails. “If ya stayed aboard, we’d make a real sailor of ya.” “Fortunately, my line of work doesn’t take me onto the water often,” Wyatt responded, praying to whatever deity that ponies prayed to that the storm would let up. “I’m not made for sailing. Give me a plane any day of the week.” Orange chuckled again, a smirk on his face as he continued to work on the sails. His smile faded, as he looked out past Wyatt. “Looks like the storm ain’t the only thing tryin’ ta sink us.” Wyatt followed Orange’s line of sight, his heart falling as he spotted a large ship making a beeline for them. Even with the dark cloud cover, he could make out a skull and crossbone flying from its mast.”You run into a lot of those?” he asked, glancing back at Orange. “This’d be our first run-in,” Orange admitted. He turned to the rest of the crew. “Some of you grab the weapons from down below! The rest of us need ta double time it with the jib!” “I’m sorry but, I have to keep my friends safe.” Wyatt let go of the rope he was holding and quickly dashed across the deck. “Spike!” he shouted over the storm, looking over at the drake. “Below deck, now!” Spike nodded, handing off his errand to a passing pony and following Wyatt below deck. “What’s up, Wyatt?” Spike asked, water dripping off his scales. Glancing around, Spike shook himself off. He cupped his hands and blew a discreet gout of flame on them. “That rain is cold as heck.” Wyatt deadpanned at the drake, his face drenched from Spike’s stunt. He quickly recovered, pointing above them. “Pirates are about to board this ship.” “Pirates?” Spike asked, following Wyatt’s finger. “In this weather? Geez, some ponies are crazy.” He met Wyatt’s gaze, a little unsure. “Is is okay for riders to fight stuff that aren’t monsters? Seems like we could really hurt them.” “It’s either that, or we let the sailors try to fight them on their own,” Wyatt replied, a frown on his face. “And that would mean that the girls would be in harm’s way.” Spike’s look hardened and smoke poured from his nostrils. “No one is going to hurt my friends.” Moving past Wyatt, he entered their room. A moment later, he came back out, Medajalibur resting on his shoulder. “Got my medals.” He pat a small container on the side of his belt. “And my sword.” Wyatt smirked, summoning his driver and card case and placing them on his waist. “That’s the difference between you and me, Spike, I’m never without my rider gear.” Setting the sword down, Spike rolled his eyes. “Ya, ya yuck it up.” Opening the medal container, he pulled three out. “Just something I’ll have to talk to Twilight about.” Slipping them into the belt slots, he grabbed the scanner. “What’s that thing you say when you transform?” “Follow my lead,” Wyatt said with a smile, pulling his card from the case. He put it in the belt, grabbing the handles. “Henshin!” With that, he pushed the handles together. “Kamen Ride: Decade!” The familiar swirling silhouettes surrounded, Wyatt, converging together and forming his armor. Spike nodded. “Henshin!” He scanned the medals, feeling the rush of power as the belt activated. “Taka! Tora! Batta! Ta~To~Ba~ Tatoba! Ta~To~ba!” “And now, we wait until we feel the boat shake from the pirate’s boarding us,” Wyatt said. “Gotta make a proper entrance after all.” “Yeah but, if we do that, isn’t there a chance ponies could get hurt?” Spike asked, frowning under his helmet. “Seems irresponsible.” Lifting up Medajalibur, Spike moved up to the stairs. “I don’t want ponies getting hurt because I wanted to be cool.” “We have to wait for them to reach the ship anyway,” Wyatt pointed out. “Unless you want to try jumping onto the pirate ship. And that would put you at risk of missing and sinking like a rock. You don’t have the blue combo yet so, no water breathing for you.” Spike nodded, relaxing as much as he could. Wyatt did have a point, even if he didn’t like it. He steadied himself, telling himself not to go all out against the pirates. “Right. Don’t have the cool stuff yet, got it.” “You’ve got a combo that doesn’t even exist in other versions of OOO,” Wyatt reminded him, chuckling. “I think you’ve got plenty of cool stuff for just starting out. Your grandpa did say not to get greedy, remember?” Spike chuckled weakly, rubbing the back of his head. “Right, gotta work on that. Think it might be a side effect from those medals I used for my growth spurt.” He gulped, hoping that wasn’t really the case “I really don’t want a repeat of my birthday. Just gotta keep a handle on the greed. You can do that, Spike.” Wyatt put a hand on Spike’s shoulder, patting it. “I’m sure you’ll do fine out there. You were able to beat that drake without killing him,” he reminded, smiling beneath his helmet. “Just don’t punch anyone too hard, ya?” “Same to you,” Spike shot back, feeling some of the tension bleed away from him. “You’ve never fought anything but monsters as a rider.” A shout from above caught Spike’s attention, making him grip Medajalibur’s hilt tighter. “That our cue?” Wyatt nodded, turning and heading up the steps. “Yup, it’s showtime, try to look heroic.” Wyatt stepped above deck, calmly making his way forward as he saw the crew standing guard as the pirate ship prepared to board them. He took his card case off his hip, turning it into a sword while putting himself in front of the crew. “Everyone, get below deck. We’ll keep you safe,” he said, projecting his voice over the storm. “And just who are you?” the captain demanded, frowning at the two of them. “How did you get on my ship?” “I’m just a passing through Kamen Rider,” Wyatt replied, turning his attention to the pirate ship. “The how we got here isn’t important, all of you getting below deck to avoid getting hurt is. Leave this to us.” “We got this,” Spike added, brandishing his sword to emphasize his point. “Not a single one of those guys is getting by us.” The captain sighed, shaking her head. “I know I’m gonna regret this,” she muttered. “Everypony below deck!” she ordered, waving her arm toward the doorway. Hardening her gaze at the riders, she growled. “I’m trusting you two, it better not come back to bite me in the flank, got it?” Wyatt gave her a thumbs  up, watching as a gangplank was lowered onto the ship’s railing. He then rested his sword on his shoulder and put his foot on the end of the plank as the first of the pirates started to cross. “Alright, here’s the deal you guys: either you leave now and we pretend we didn’t see your ship, or my friend and I are going to kick your scurvy asses and you’ll get nice and acquainted with the next group of guards we come across.” He tapped his sword on his shoulder, tilting his head slightly. “What’ll it be?” The first few pirates stepped onto the deck, drawing their cutlasses. One gave Spike a strange look, turning to the stallion next to him. “Don’t that one look like the king? Got the same chest he does.” “There’s a resemblance, but we can worry about that later,” the stallion that the pair of riders assumed was the captain replied. “Right now we’ve got a ship to plunder. Wyatt sighed, pulling a card out of his case. “I really don’t like being ignored.” He slotted the card into his driver. “Seems I wasn’t clear enough in my warning.” “Attack Ride: Illusion!” After a moment, a shimmer spread out from Wyatt and five clones of him appeared in a “V” formation. The only difference between them was that some of them held swords while others held blasters. “Now leave or else we’ll be forced to get violent!” the clones warned in unison. “Enough of this!” The captain charged forward, swinging his blade at one of the clone’s neck. “I don’t care what kinda fancy magic you can do! The king wants this ship, he gets this ship!” The clone easily blocked the attack, pushing the captain’s cutlass aside with a flick of its wrist. It then followed up by kicking the captain in the chest, knocking him into one of his crew. Sneering at them, the captain charged again, locking blades with the clone. Not to be outdone, Spike leveled Medajalibur at the other pirates. “He gave you guys fair warning. Don’t blame us if you end up in a cell.” Rushing forward, he swung the blade at theirs. “Let’s see how good Grandpa’s sword is.” Medajalibur clashed with the swords, sparks falling from where they grinded against one another. With a growl, Spike pushed them back, swinging his right leg into the closests pirates side. “What are you waiting for!?” the captain hissed, glancing back at his men. “Get on the damn ship and take care of these costumed freaks! Or do wish to join all the others failures in Poseidon's locker?” “Poseidon?” Wyatt muttered, locking swords with one of the pirates. He shoulder checked the mare, sending her tumbling onto her flank. “Figures he’d be around.” “Poseidon the pirate king?” Spike asked as he caught the blade of a pirate, only to sock him in the face. “I thought that guy was just a myth!” A grit his teeth as a sword slashed across his back. Cringing on instinct, it took him a moment to realize it hadn’t hurt as much as he thought it had. Spike grinned beneath his helmet, bouncing on the balls of his feet as he slashed at the air a couple times. “That the best you got?” The pirate captain fumed, staggering from a punch one of Wyatt’s clones had delivered to his face. “Unfortunately for you two, the king gave me a gift as it were.” Tossing his sword aside, he reached into his coat, retrieving something. “I’ll cast the lot of ya into the locker myself!” A bright flash came from the captain’s hand, blinding everyone for a moment. The captain screamed, falling to his knees as his body seemed to pulse. Brown, blue and orange electricity arced from his hand, surging through his body. His pants started to tear, revealing orange scales that began to form and pushed outwards into heavily armored sections. His shirt went next, his torso becoming encased in blue and black armor. From the elbows down, his arms elongated, transforming into two transparent eels, coursing with electricity. Gray fins sprouted from his shoulders, the tips pointing past his back until they were vaguely triangular. The last thing to change was the captain’s head. Fur fell away, revealing glossy, dark purple chitin. His eyes rolled into the back of his head before becoming a sickly yellow and bulging out from his skull. His skull reshaped itself, a long growth extending from his forehead with several spindly growths pushing out from it. Spike paused a sword swing, staring in horrified awe. “Wyatt, the heck is that!? That thing looks like something Discord would have a nightmare about!” “I’ve never seen anything like that!” Wyatt and his clones shouted back. “The medals never did anything like that in the show! Stay sharp, there’s no telling what he can do like that! And watch the head part, I have no idea what medal that is.” ‘Reminds me of something from Resident Evil 4...’ Wyatt thought to himself, a few clones blasting the mutated captain. “Right, gotta get those medals back.” Disengaging from the pirate mob he had been fighting, Spike rushed at the captain, swinging Medajalibur at one of the eel arms. The eel arm wriggled around, wrapping around Medajalibur and then Spike’s wrist, clamping its jaws around his gauntlet. Before Spike could even try to free himself, electricity arced around the eel arm, going directly into the drake. A scream of agony tore out of his throat, his body locking up. “Hey, bug head! Let him go!” Wyatt growled, shifting the ride booker into gun mode and firing at the captains head. The captain barely flinched, making a strangled gurgling noise as he lashed out at Wyatt with his free arm. Wyatt hissed in pain as the eel brushed against his helmet, giving him a jolt. ‘Right, gotta be fast before Spike gets cooked. God, I wish I had a Stronger card right now...Aha! Cassie’s form might just do the trick.’ He jumped back from the captain, reaching into his booker and pulling out a card. “Here goes nothing,” he muttered, tossing the card into his driver. “Displaced Ride: Cassie!” the driver called out, silhouettes swirling around him as his armor changed. The main colors were yellow and blue, his armor lighter than his Mira form. The majority of his helmet was blue with bright yellow eyes. A trio of lightning bolt-like horns spread off the sides, of the helmet, starting from the eyes. The gauntlets on his forearms were dark blue, the metal coiled tightly together. His greaves matched his gauntlets, the coils starting below his knee and ending just above his ankle. Extending out from his shoulder pads were a pair of conducting towers, each having two disks extending from the stem, capped off with a metal orb. Two similar towers stuck out from between his shoulder blades, creating the metal skeletons of wings. Wyatt grinned, an idea striking him. He extended a hand upward as a bolt of lightning crashed down from the sky. Part of the bolt diverted from its course, getting absorbed into the rods on his back. The energy stayed there for a moment before spreading out along the rod and forming into wings. “Oh yeah, I think this’ll work.” The wings flapped, lifting him up into the air. He pulled out his sword, swooped down and slashed at the eel arm holding Spike. The captain shrieked in pain as the sword severed the appendage. The severed sectioned quickly dissolved into cell medals, falling to the deck. Spike swayed for a moment before collapsing to the deck. Spike panted, his body twitching every few seconds. His heart beat frantically and he felt faint. His inborn fire resistance had protected him from any burns, but that didn’t stop the electricity’s other effects. “Am I alive...?” he asked quietly, lifting his head up. Wyatt landed next to the collapsed drake, helping him to his feet. “Yeah, you’re still alive.” “Captain’s got em on the ropes!” one of the pirates shouted, waving his sword at the two of them. “What say we teach these fools what happens when you stand up to Captain High Wind?” Throwing caution to the wide, he loosed a battle cry, charging at Spike. “I just cut one of those eel arms and they think their captain’s winning,” Wyatt said with a chuckle, hitting a pirate with the back of his fist as they charged at him. “Can’t fault their enthusiasm, eh OOO?” “No, I guess not.” Spike shook his head, still trying to get his bearings. “How are we gonna handle this guy?” A growl emanated from his throat as the Captain’s severed arm started to regenerate. Cell medals extended from the wound, swiftly converting into eel flesh. “I should be able to take on the arms.” Wyatt sidestepped another pirate, grabbed him by his neck and casually tossed him into a trio of charging pirates. “You get some of those cell medals and attack cappy there with a charging scan from Medajalibur.” “That won’t kill him... will it?” Spike gulped, glancing at his sword wearily. “No, if it’s anything like a parasitic yummy, it should just separate him from the medals,” Wyatt assured him. “Quick, get those medals before the waves wash them away!” Knocking way another pirate, he stepped forward. “Come on ugly, let’s see if you the rest of you is as breakable as those arms.” The captain let out another gurgling hiss, whipping his arms at Wyatt’s head. Wyatt didn’t make an attempt to dodge, bending his knees and grabbing onto the arms. Pulling Wyatt closer, the captain drew his head back and slammed it against Wyatt’s. Wyatt stumbled back, his grip dropping from the captain’s arms. He made a move to q, only to falter when the world around him started to blur like wet watercolors. “The hell?” he muttered, blinking his eyes a few times. A noise to his left got his attention, and he noted the pirates were twisting and malforming in ways that shouldn’t be possible. “Oh god!” Wyatt cried, clutching the sides of his head, trying to find stable footing as the deck appeared to fall away around him. “Wyatt?” Spike asked, watching his fellow rider in concern. Grabbing a handful of cell medals from the deck, he slotted them into the sword. “What did you do to my friend?!” Spike growled, rushing over and slashing the captain across his chest. The captain hissed, coiling his arms around one of Spike’s arms and a leg. Extending the claws on his left arm, he dug them into the eel grabbing his arm, causing it to release him. “I’ve had enough of you,” he hissed, grabbing the scanner from his belt.  Without a second thought, he slid the scanner over the sword. The scanner chimed, flashing a few lights. “Scanning charge!” Energy erupted from the sword, extending out past the blade. After a moment, the energy seemed to stabilize and Spike swung the sword across the captain’s chest. The blade cut through the air, slicing through the mast and cleaving into the captains body. The corrupted armor cracked and splintered, giving way under the strain. Spike let out a roar as the captain’s armor exploded into a rain of cell medals, most of which dropped into the turbulent sea. The mast glitched for a second before reverting to it’s undamaged state. The captain, now stark naked, wobbled on his hooves before falling flat on his face. Chest heaving and heart pounding, Spike glared at the remaining pirates. “Surrender. Now.” The pirates that were still conscious all seemed to lose heart, shivering as their weapons clattered to the deck. They all held their hands in the air, turning their gaze away from the angry rider. “One of you go down below deck and tell the captain you’ve surrendered,” Spike ordered, grabbing one of them and shoving him towards the stairs. “Go.” The pirate couldn’t move fast enough as he scrambled down below deck. A few moments later and the captain of the ship stepped onto the deck with a smile on her face. “Well, looks like you’re not just talk.” Turning back to the stairs, she barked a few orders. “Get back to your posts! The rest of ya get your swords and get these bilge rats back to their boat and see to it they get a nice ride home.” Her gaze settled on the limp form of the pirate captain. “Uh, why is this one naked?” she questioned, turning to Spike. “It’s a long story.” Spike passed Medajalibur to the captain, he turned to Wyatt. “That guy did something to my friend. Hang onto that for me, will ya?” Without waiting for her to reply, he jogged over to the still ailing rider. “Wyatt, can you hear me?” Wyatt didn’t seem to hear Spike, rocking back and forth. Just when Spike was about to give up, Wyatt whispered, “Spike, is that you?” “Yeah it’s me.” Spike sat down, putting his hand on Wyatt’s shoulder. “It’s alright, the pirates gave up. We won.” “The captain drugged me,” Wyatt whispered, breathing rapidly. “I am having a really bad trip. Everything’s melting.” “Okay, I’m gonna take you back to the girls, okay?” Spike put Wyatt’s arm around his neck, and led him down to their room. Going through the steps he had seen Wyatt use, he cancelled out Wyatt’s transformation. “Why don’t you get in bed and relax? I still gotta do some stuff on the deck.” “Okay,” Wyatt said, curling up into a ball on the bed. “You go fix that eagle head, okay?” “Right,” Spike agreed, tucking Wyatt into bed. Ignoring his own tiredness, he made his way up to the deck, carrying his medal box with him. “So...” he walked over to the captain. “I know you aren’t dumb and there's really only two people we could be...” “Don’t worry, yer secret’s safe with me, dragon boyo,” the captain said, turning her attention away from her crew as they rushed around to finish their previous duties. “Can’t exactly betray yer trust after savin’ my crew’s sorry hides.” Spike sighed in relief, undoing his transformation. “You have no idea how happy that makes me.” He watched as a few of the sailors over on the pirate ship pulled in the gangplank. “I should get those medals up before they cause any more trouble.” “You do that,” the captain said with a chuckle. She jabbed a finger at his chest. “And then it’s back to running errands. Ya gotta work twice as hard since yer friend’s under the weather.” “Right...” Spike sighed, before getting to his task. Most of the cell medals were in plain sight, though a few had landed behind barrels or boxes. ‘I really hope those colored medals didn’t land in the sea.’ Glancing at the still form of the pirate captain he groaned. ‘Bet they’re under that guy.’ He debated for a moment on his next course of action before knowing he had no real choice. He knelt down and grabbed the pirate captain’s side. With a small grunt of effort, he rolled the captain over, doing his best not to look at him. Sure enough, the medals were there. Spike grabbed them and scurried off. Once out of eyesight he examined the trio of medals. The first was a purple medal displaying a centipede, the second was blue portraying an eel, and the third was orange, boasting an alligator. Or was it a crocodile? A gharial? One of those. He’d ask Wyatt later. What stuck out to them though was the purple centipede medal. He examined it, turning it over in his claw. He recalled what he had been told about the purple set by his grandfather and Sapphira, frowning. He didn’t get any feelings of emptiness from it, and centipedes were by no means a long gone creature. In the end, he put the three medals away, deciding to talk about it with them the next time he saw them.