When Twilight was invited to the wardroom, the meeting had already been going for an hour. She’d sat in the galley, solemnly watching the cucumber plant sprout new leaves. Any officers and NCOs aboard Salissa were recalled, but underway repairs continued nonetheless, and her help was not welcomed. Magic seemed to be considered a threat by everyone.
“Maybe I should just never use magic again,” she said. “I’m always endangering the ship in some way.”
Mertz set a sandwich on the counter in front of her. “Don’t say that. You beat that flying girl What’s-her-name, remember? She could’ve easily killed us all.”
“I sent the entire ship ten feet into the air!”
“Think on the bright side. We could use that somehow else, say, for engines on Big Sal over there.” He gestured to the massive Lemurian Home and its two freestanding tripod masts, gracefully catching a good wind with their enormous sails.
“How do you know that it won’t cause some catastrophe?”
“I don’t.” Mertz ate a biscuit as he contemplated his next words. “I’ll bet the Captain doesn’t either, and that’s what he’s worried about.”
Juan popped out from the passage. “Miss Twilight, Cap-tan Reddy requested you join the meeting now.”
“Coming.” She stood and straightened her clothes, nervously twirling her hair as she approached the wardroom. “Captain, you sent for me?” she asked, pulling the pea-green curtain aside. All of the officers regarded her wearily, as if she was a threat that needed to be addressed. That did not suit her hopes.
“I did,” Matt confirmed. “Please, sit down.” He gestured to an open chair at the end of the table, presumably so everyone could watch her. When she sat, he began: “Twilight, what is the one thing that I ask when you practice magic aboard my ship?”
“To not endanger the ship or crew in a life-threatening manner.”
“Would you count submerging the bow under several feet of water as threatening?”
“Yes, Captain.”
It was Larry Dowden’s turn. “Twilight, do you realize that the entire ship became airborne for a solid five seconds?”
“No, I did not, Mr. Dowden. I was below, nearly flattened against the bulkhead.”
“We’re lucky that Walker was taken off Condition III during your experiment, or someone would’ve gone over the side.”
Spanky raised his fingers from the table. “How much power do you think we can get out of burning magic like that?”
“Mr. McFarlane, this is not the time to ask that question.” Matt, normally cool and collected, was barely succeeding at hiding his frustration behind a facade of calm.
“Skipper, it’s something we need to know.”
“Mr. McFarlane,” Twilight said, “the combustion of magic has never really been tested before, so there is no conclusive evidence to support a certain amount of power or heat from it.”
“How much danger would you put the ship in to test that?” Matt sternly asked.
“None, sir. I just wanted to know if there was any data on it.”
“Twilight, you do understand that this is still my ship, correct?”
“Yes, Captain.”
“And that by joining my ship and crew, you must abide by the regulations that I put in place?”
“Yes, Captain.”
“It’s too early for expulsion, and we may need you anyway. If I restrict you to necessary duties, there may still be enough danger in how you accomplish your tasks. So, until we reach Balikpapan, you are restricted to your quarters.”
“Yes, Captain.” She looked down, her face blushing with shame. “If that’s all, I’ll head there now.”
“It is.”
-------------------------
Early the next morning, Walker steamed on full alert as the sun slowly began to peak over the horizon. Even so, it was Chack’s keen eyes that saw the fishing craft and stopped them from hitting it. Matt called him down to speak with the fisher’s occupants, and the Lemurian slid down the forestay. It didn’t take long to explain the destroyer’s existence.
For a day, they continued to dawdle around Big Sal. The time was actually peaceful, and everyone took a much-needed nap at least once. By the time they reached Balikpapan Bay, the destroyermen were ready to take on the world--provided that they found fuel, food, girls, and allies. Matt finally allowed Twilight to leave her quarters once Walker slid to a tired halt. The old ship dropped anchor near the middle of the bay, sagging the chain like it was an ancient, weakened limb.
“This is such a beautiful city,” the princess observed, nodding at the general festivities bound to begin aboard the newly arrived Lemurian Home. “It’d be a shame if it was destroyed by some sudden political upheaval.”
“Looks like Chefoo.” Gray crossed his arms. “Maybe a miniature Shanghai at most.”
The princess turned and glared. The Chief laughed it away.
“Mr. Gray, Princess Twilight, we’ll head over to Big Sal shortly,” Matt interrupted as he smoothed his sweat-glossed hair. “Please make yourselves presentable for the occasion and ready the detail. Dress whites and crackerjacks, Mr. Gray.”
“Yes, sir.” As the burly man strode down the ladder, the captain turned to Twilight. He was wary, she quickly realized. Wary of her and her magic. The last few days must have been a more tremendous strain on him than she’d originally thought, even with her temporary restriction.
“I’m sorry, Captain. It was extremely careless of me to forget about your duty to your men, and mine to all of you. I suppose that I’m much like Mr. Bradford in a way. Always wanting to discover new things, to continually learn.”
He nodded. “How are we going to continue with this if you don’t know the extent of your abilities? Twilight, this is something we need to know, but we have bigger priorities: fuel, food, a friendly port to rest our tired ship. Perhaps you can learn during our stay, but please don’t try new things while we’re underway.”
“Yes, Captain. Now, I believe that I should change out into something more appropriate for meeting foreign dignitaries.” With that, she walked to her shared quarters with Sandra and Karen. Sandra was already wearing a fresh uniform. Not half an hour later, the detail was on Salissa, and Matt sent Courtney back to change.
“Brad-furrd teach I speak your language,” Keje greeted. A grin spread across his face, clearly proud of his speech. “Good, eh?”
“That is great indeed,” Matt replied through Chack’s.
“Ah! Chack speak good for us!”
“He is a fast learner. I’m afraid I haven’t been able to learn your language, though.”
Keje smiled still. He and Adar both wore their best livery this night: freshly polished bronze armor and Grik claws over Keje’s brownish fur and carefully tended purple robes for Adar’s silver.
Matt politely excused himself and leaned on the rail overlooking the harbor. In the middle of the bay, Walker finally took a rest. It reminded him somewhat of when he was first given command. Back then, she tugged against her anchor like an aging thoroughbred, not quite out but still too old to race. Now she just looked tired, as if the chain weighed her down. A jet of water streamed from her overworked bilge pumps, and her lights had begun to fade from yellow-white to orange. Rust streaks marred her patchwork sides like sores, and the number paint flaked and crumbled.
“Some new paint and she’ll be new,” Sandra offered, sliding next to him.
“It’ll take more than paint,” he admitted. She looked into his eyes, seeing all of his pain and sorrow, and placed her hand on his arm, burying it deep. Deeper than it had been.
“Captain, are you going to join us?” Twilight called. She waved from where she’d been in deep philosophical discussion with Adar. “We’re going to shore to meet the mayor.” Before he could respond, she said something in Lemurian to the shipwrights inspecting the forward tripod’s damage. They greeted her back and explained their insights.
It took an hour, but Walker’s shore detail was soon swept up in a massive throng that echoed through the entire city. When Keje had told Matt that Baalkpan was a “land colony”, he’d thought of it in diminutive terms: small, easily defensible. Now he could see that it was an understatement. It would have been like evacuating Surabaya or Manila back in his world. He noticed that much of the lower market’s smells brought on a sort of deja vu in their similarity to home, and the shops and stalls farthest from the bay sold more expensive items like jewelry. And everything was on stilts. Houses, storage, and kitchens stood on pillars that held them above the free-roaming bazaar that was Baalkpan’s pulsing lifeblood.
Twilight spent more time wandering the market than everyone else, but then again, she could teleport. Her notes on the local economy and customs would no doubt be of great value to them later on. Like Courtney loved natural phenomena, she loved everything that could be studied. Plus, her exchange with the local Lemurians showed Matt that they’d been expected. It shouldn’t have been a surprise. The destroyer steamed rings around Salissa for a day after encountering fishing boats.
Eventually, the celebration quieted. They had reached a great building, not only on thick pillars, but also one that wrapped around a massive tree in the center which looked much like the smaller one on Salissa. Only this tree stood taller than anything in the city, even the massive tripod masts bobbing on their docked Homes. Its leafy bough branched just above the building’s roof, providing shade for the large park around it.
“Greetings, Nakja-Mur, High Chief of Baalkpan!” Keje called to the building. Now that everyone was silent, he seemed unnaturally loud. “I am Keje-Fris-Ar, High Chief of Salissa Home, come from the Southern Lands with mighty friends, trade, and tales to tell. May we come aboard for counsel?”
A moment later, a powerful voice boomed in reply. “Come aboard, and welcome, Brother. It has been a long while since Salissa Home entered these waters, and some of your tale has arrived before you. Come, eat and drink and tell me your tale. Bring these mighty friends of yours. I would meet them!”
Adar suddenly pulled Keje back and whispered something in his ear, likely a caution or urgent question. The bear of a Lemurian hesitated slightly, then clapped his friend on the back and scampered up the singular ladder, which seemed to be the only way up. Adar glanced back with uncertainty, then followed. Matt motioned for Sandra to go first. He didn’t consider watching her climb when he gestured, but he caught himself watching her. Shaking his head, he saw that the other men had done the same. He coughed and waved Chack closer.
“Why is everything so high off the ground?”
“Ah, it is tradition? Yes. Reminds of old. Also, keep dry when high water, and bad land lizards not climb good.”
“Makes sense!” he said, making the twenty-foot climb after Twilight reached the top.
The hall was big from the outside. Once inside, it was enormous. Not only did it hold all that came along, it did so with ease--plenty of room remained to move around or add the many locals who came as well. It looked like a basketball court to him, but was lit by fishy-smelling oil lamps. Huge beams supported the ceiling, surrounded by gaudy tapestries that left no wall uncovered. It was much like the Great Hall on Salissa, but larger in every dimension, even the dominating tree in the center. Maybe five hundred occupants conversed animatedly, and a bar laid out with colorful dishes and drinks lined one wall.
Matt grabbed a pitcher of amber liquid for himself and Sandra. Bradford took one, too, as did Twilight, but Gray scowled at the security detail before they even moved. The captain smiled and peered down his pitcher, sipping experimentally. “Hmm. Tastes sort of like beer.”
Bradford took a swing and smacked his lips. “Ah! Beer! We have more in common than we could have imagined! The alcohol content feels rather high, I may add.” He winked at Twilight, who guzzled half of her pitcher and pounded her chest after trying some of the local fare. Her antics drew laughter from the crowd.
“One each, Mr. Gray,” Matt allowed. The security detail would’ve looked at him like starving puppies if he hadn’t. He and Sandra followed the flow, trying some spices here, some there. Some were mild, others strange, but a few, like the one Twilight had tried, were downright brutal. At least Big Sal’s Lemurians were there to guide him. Most of the locals simply stared.
“Cap-i-taan Riddy!” Keje’s cousin, and the captain of his personal guard, stood patiently. “Com plees.”
Bradford must have been busy teaching English if half of Salissa’s people already knew some words.
“Of course. Mr. Gray? Please supervise our protectors. Lieutenant Tucker, Mr. Bradford, and Princess Twilight, would you accompany me?”
They followed Kas-Ra-Ar through the crowd, threading the needle between boisterous conversations to the far side of the hall. Finally, they reached a less-packed area, where Keje and Adar stood near a seated figure in red and gold robes. He was easily the biggest Lemurian they’d seen, but no he gave no impression of sedentary weakness. His dark fur had only the slightest hint of silver, and it was freshly combed, sleek and shining. An aura of power radiated from him, coming from his intelligent eyes and imposing build. As they approached, he thundered a greeting and held his palm outward.
Matt returned the gesture, and the Lemurian’s eyes flicked to his Academy sword. Keje quickly spoke, and Courtney translated Adar’s words to Matt.
“He’s never seen someone make the Sign of the Empty Hand when his hands aren’t empty. I believe he’s referring to your sword.”
Matt glanced down at the sheathed ceremonial weapon. They’d worn the swords to seem less exotic, but it never occurred to them that their arms would cause trouble. Keje would’ve warned them against some breach in convention. “Um, tell him that my hand is empty. Among our people, only the unsheathed weapon is a threat because it signals intent. The sign is a token of friendship and reflects the intent more than the actual fact.”
“So it is a lie?” Keje and Adar became uncomfortable. Sandra squeezed Matt’s arm before he could react to a surge in anger.
“No, it is not. We come as friends, as we came to the aid to Salissa Home. We wish to be friends with all the People. Because our intentions are friendly, not making the sign would have been a lie. Among our people, we can go among friends and remain armed. Is that not the case here?”
Nakja-Mur sat for a moment after the translation, collecting his thoughts. Then, slowly, his lips split into a grin. A shift to Keje and Matt could tell that he was already smiling. “I tell Nakja-Mur you are always armed because you are warriors. You ship made for fighting only. Not so?”
The discussion had finally reached this point. Matt hadn’t denied it, but always downplayed the idea. Now there was but one answer.
“USS Walker is a ship of war,” he admitted.
“Who you fight?” Adar asked. “Why you need a ship only for war? You fight all the time?”
Matt realized that it was the first time he’d heard the Sky Priest speak English. “We fight our enemies… and the enemies of our friends.”
“You fight Grik?”
“We already have.”
“You fight again?”
He glanced at his companions. All three knew that his next words would have drastic consequences for them all. He sighed.
“If the Grik come and you cannot fight them alone, we’ll help. That’s what friends do. But we cannot do all the fighting for you.”
“Keje tell fight. Grik fight bad, but hard. New way, bigger ship. More Grik than before. Maybe Grik come… bigger, like long ago.”
Matt was concerned about the Grik, but he knew Walker could handle many of them at once without problem. They were the “Ancient Enemy” and were regarded with superstitious dread, but they were “out there”. The Lemurians had good reason to fear them, of course. However, his limited conversations gave him a sort of “pirate” model, one that didn’t fit here. He’d been trying to shift the talks to gain a good relationship with them and create a limited alliance for food and repairs, chasing off a few Grik every now and then.
But they were afraid that the Grik would attack here. Baalkpan’s people were vulnerable, blatantly obvious now, even compared to their seagoing cousins. There were no measures against any serious threat, aside from every house being built on top of stilts. This would not be an easy evacuation, and besides, there were enough people to fight off more than six Grik ships at a time. They may be complacent, but they were strong and numerous. Had something been lost in translation?
“If Grik come bigger, there be plenty fight for all,” Adar said.
Matt nodded gravely at the Sky priest and tow leaders. Then Twilight spoke up, unknowingly cutting off his next question.
“I am Princess Twilight Sparkle of Equestria, High Chief Nakja-Mur,” she said in Lemurian, bowing low for a second. “I may not have other people of mine with me, but I know what we would say to your generosity, and I thank you for it.”
“You are the one who even the Tail-less Ones say have magic?”
“Yes, Chief.” She was carefully picking her words, Matt noticed, as if she only conducted diplomacy when she absolutely needed. “I can control that which is called magic among my own people.” As proof, she rolled her hand, palm facing up, and sprouted a flower from it. “A simple spell, but one that can easily display my gratitude,” she said, picking the flower from her hand and handing it to him. He smiled at her gift, then asked what she wanted in return.
“If you don’t mind, could you teach us more about the Grik?”