My Little Destroyermen: Walker on Water

by The Atlantean


Chapter 22

A Grand Gathering had been called at Baalkpan to discuss the oncoming Grik threat. Homes of the Sea from throughout the area came, enough to be a large gathering, but too few to really do too much. Normally, Great Gatherings were festive times when Homes would branch out, with parties and drinking ashore for days while the massive Homes were constructed. This time, however, there was a sense of urgency and concern. One of the Homes had passed by another on the way, broken and burning on a rocky shoal to the north. There was no doubt that the Grik had destroyed it.

Keje flew into a frenzy at the news and finally agreed to mount cannons on Salissa as Lieutenant Alan Letts, Walker’s supply officer who’d worked his way to permanent shore duty as Matt’s Chief of Staff, suggested. He remained reluctant to accept anything dealing with Equestrian magic, though, despite Twilight’s assurance that it was mostly safe.

Everything kicked into an even higher gear, if that was even possible. Production ramped up, with every piece of copper in the city being sent to the bottomless stomachs of the foundry fires, tons of sulfur being carried down from the Sularan volcanic fields, and the shipyards receiving massive upgrades. The three-inch gun seemed to get less and less useless as time went on as Twilight and Garret perfected her magic shells. Repairs to the PBY proceeded on time as well, and Mallory expected it to be flightworthy again in two weeks. Magic was, well, working its magic, and nothing out of the ordinary anymore.

So it was a complete shock when, upon returning from a reluctant visit to the wrecked Home, Twilight announced that she felt traces of scrying magic in the sky. It made little sense: Twilight was the only magician in the world that could do that, right? Besides her and the lightning-loving Nightmare Moon, there was nobody who had previously known magic existed.

“Well, right about when we met Salissa, I do remember feeling the presence of Sunset Shimmer,” the princess answered when Matt asked her about it. “She was Princess Celestia’s student before disappearing through a mirror portal that led to a world with the human equivalents of everyone in Equestria. This happened only a few years before Celestia chose me to be her personal student.”

He sat in his customary seat around the wardroom table. “Yes, that rings a bell. What do you think happened to her?”

“I don’t know. Obviously, if she’s still alive, she’s recognized that magic still works here. I doubt it was her, though--she’s not a villain. I mean, saving the world on at least two separate occasions kind of makes you a hero.”

“Would you go so far as to rule her out completely?”

She paused for a moment, collecting her thoughts. “Yes, I would.”

“Alright. I’ll have to trust you on her--not like I really have a choice--but the possibility that there could be a third magician in this crazy world doesn’t sound good.”

“Captain, if it were up to me, I wouldn’t tell everyone that the Grik have magic. That might send any allies we can gain running.”

“Twilight, we have to. If we can’t trust them something this big, we might lose theirs. And right now, they’re trusting us to help them fight the Grik. Without that trust, we might as well pack up and leave, drop anchor on a distant--deadly--shore, and probably die.”

“You’re the Skipper.”

Matt blinked. “You’ve never called me that.”

“Mr. Silva says it, and he never speaks ill of you, so I thought it was just another word for ‘Captain’.”

“It kind of is. It’s… hard to explain why the men call me ‘Skipper’, but I guess it means they’re okay with me. You surprised me, though.”

“I’m not gonna call you that if you don’t want me to.”

“It isn’t a problem.”

Twilight nodded and exited the wardroom.

Matt lingered just a bit longer, thinking about Sunset. She worried him. Hell, everything dealing with magic worried him. It was an unknown no matter how much Twilight told him, and it was apparent that she dumbed it down so the destroyermen and Lemurians could understand her. A few times, she’d spoken in terms that made no sense to anyone else and was forced to reword entire miniature speeches to get her point across. Somebody who could actually understand her ramblings about magic to some degree could be a threat.

Eventually, he walked up to the bridge, where a beautiful view of Baalkpan Bay greeted him. Feluccas soared over the waves with their triangular sails and smooth hulls, while at least half a dozen Homes of the Sea, including Salissa, either snuggled against the dock or moored farther out. Even as he scanned the bay entrance, another Home let out a hundred sweeps to propel it through the congested waterway to a more open spot off to the side. Its great wings were stowed, and as it coasted to a halt, one of its four “feet” (its anchors) dropped with a familiar splash. This Great Gathering was turning out to be much bigger than he thought it would be.

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After leaving the wardroom, Twilight flew to the PBY, where Lieutenant Ben Mallory and his small flight crew consisting of himself, Signalman Ed Palmer, a Lemurian nicknamed “Tikker”, and two farsighted Lemurians worked the latest chunk of hardened magic into its place on the damaged wing.

“I gotta say, Ed, this stuff is a lot harder to work than metal,” she heard Ben say as she approached. He wiped the sweat from his forehead with an oily sleeve and dropped his wrench when he tried to fix his mistake. “Tikker, Ratchet, somebody, get me a somewhat-clean towel before I get oil in my eyes!”

One of the farsighted ‘Cats, probably Ratchet, tossed one up. Tikker caught it and handed it to Ben while trying not to fall off his precarious perch next to the engine.

“Thanks,” he said as he cleaned his face. He looked down. “Oh, hey, Twilight.”

“Hello, Mr. Mallory. How goes repairs? I understand that magic is difficult to work when you can’t actually use it.”

“It’s going swell, thanks for asking.” He patted the plate of hardened magic that he and the crew had been trying to put in place. “The stuff can be a bitch to mold, though--’xcuse my language.”

“I’ve heard worse.” She narrowed her eyes. “Mr. Mallory, that is not the lower plate on the wing. You’re trying to hammer the upper plate into a place it won’t fit.” She gestured to another, flatter piece of hardened magic on Ed’s workbench. “This piece is the bottom half.”

He scratched his head, studying the two pieces. Once he made the connection, his head rolled back in exasperation. “Oh my God, I didn’t even see that one! It’s so obvious now. Guys, let’s get this thing out and put the other one in.”

“We waste past hour-and-half time?” Tikker asked, annoyed.

“Yeah… Sorry about that. I didn’t even realize that this piece we jammed in the wing is the top of an airfoil.”

“Damm-it.”

“Yeah. Thanks for the tip, Twilight.”

“No problem.” She took off again, this time heading towards the parade grounds. It was time to train her Guards.