Captain Matthew Reddy stood on a raised platform to address the crowd of Lemurian chiefs that had gathered in Nakja-Mur’s Great Hall. Keje-Fris-Ar, High Chief of Salissa Home, his lifetime friend Sky Priest Adar flanked Matt on his right, while Sergeant Pete Alden, Chief Gray, and Twilight stood to his left. Nakja-Mur himself sat in his seat of power nearby with Nurse Lieutenant Sandra Tucker and Lieutenant Alan Letts.
Nakja-Mur called the crowd to attention and introduced Matt and his crew. A special emphasis was placed on their accomplishments in driving away the Grik vessels from a while ago and Twilight’s magical abilities.
“Thank you, Chief,” Matt said when the burly Lemurian had finished. Keje translated to the other chief for him.
“After the Grik showed up in the bay, we’ve kicked everything into high gear. But frankly, I’m still not sure what we have will be enough to defeat the Grik. I--we--have two different versions of Grik attacks. Based on the utter unpreparedness of pretty much every settlement I’ve seen, they’re like Malay pirates, and aren’t that much of a menace. However, there’s also the ‘slow creep’ model described by Naga. I don’t know how much there really is. We don’t know. All of us are extremely ignorant when it comes to the Grik.”
Several ‘Cats bristled. In Lemurian, “ignorant” and “stupid” were frighteningly similar.
Matt hurried past the intricacies of language. “We do know something, however, and that’s that there will always be more Grik. Which means they have mass on their side. So we need to mass as well. I know our tech is better, but for how long? We could bleed them white, but we simply don’t have the people to keep that up forever.”
“So, ‘mass’ is numbers?” Keje asked for the rest of the crowd.
“Yes. We need to take the fight to the Grik, and we need numbers to do it. But first, we need to know what we’re going up against. So, massing defensively.”
“You said that we must attack? Why must we ‘mass’ defensively when our goal is to attack?”
“I’ve been thinking of ways to get the intel we need, and those Grik scouts are a good place to start. Think of it as a ‘defensive’ attack.”
“That doesn’t even make any sense,” Twilight protested. “How can an attack be defensive in nature?”
“If we’re the defending side, then an attack is most definitely defensive in nature. It may be an offensive tactic, but a defensive move,” Pete explained.
“Yeah, sure, whatever. It still doesn’t make sense, but if that’s how it is, then I’ll take it.”
Pete blinked. Twilight usually tried to make sense of everything. Her eyes seemed distant, and her intense curiosity was lost. “Are you alright?” he asked.
It was her turn to blink. She shook her head. “Yes, of course. I’m just worried about Sunset. Ever since I felt her enter this crazy world, the only thing I know is that she isn’t dead.”
“Well, that’s good, isn’t it? If she’s anything like you said, she can take care of herself.”
“You’re right. I keep forgetting that she’s saved the multiverse at least a few times. She’s just my student, you know? I can’t shake this feeling that… she’ll be fine.”
Matt had ignored their side conversation in favor of rallying the Lemurians. He seemed to be succeeding, too, once they understood the basic theory that based his entire plan. He wanted to use a heavy squall to “sink” a Home (probably Salissa if Keje had anything to say about it) and sucker in enough Grik to actually take one of their ships with Walker. That way, they would only deal with a few Grik instead of the whole damn army.
“How many troops can we pull together, Sergeant?”
Pete rubbed his chin. “I can pull the First and Second Marines for this jaunt, giving us a few hundred. If we add Twilight’s Guards, that’s three regiments ready to deploy. A thousand, perhaps? That’s being optimistic, of course.”
“Perfect. Say, what if we bring everyone?”
“That’s a lot of people on our little ship, sir, but we’ll make it work. We can go into the specifics later.”
Nakja-Mur stood from his cushioned seat and clambered up to the platform. As “hosting” Chief, any big multi-clan plans had to go through him. This role was only made even more important when one considered that Baalkpan provided most of the labor and was the only faction that couldn’t just leave.
“I say,” he began, “that Cap-i-taan Reddy be made Supreme Commander of this Allied Expedition for its duration!”
Thunderous applause and the stomping of feet filled the hall. Matt warily accepted the offer, and planning began in greater detail.
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Pete and Twilight watched the training Marines, Guards, and a bunch of newcomers from Baalkpan and various Homes in the bay practice sparring. Twilight had tried it with her Guards to get them used to fighting organic, moving enemies rather than stuffed training dummies on poles, and claimed some improvement in reaction times and heat-of-combat improvisation. Weapons were necessarily blunted, but a steady trickle of wounded made their way to Nurse Karen Theimer’s medical station before rejoining the fast-paced training regimen.
“I know that dummies are safer,” she’d reasoned, “but one-on-one combat is the logical next step.”
Pete had agreed with her, knowing full well that he had planned on implementing it before she’d even considered the subject. But right now, even as some of his Marines and Twilight’s Guard sparred themselves, others acted as NCOs to keep the rookies on track. They rotated out, but it was still hectic. Somehow, the individualistic land folk were going to have to learn to work as a single unit.
“God help us if the shield wall fails,” he muttered.
“With the newcomers or the Marines and Guards?” she asked.
“It won’t matter. We get to that”--he gestured at the fiasco--“we’re finished.”
Chack and Lieutenant Shinya, who had been down in the thick, joined them. They were well within earshot when Twilight said, “Indeed. As my brother would say during his own training, ‘We’re going to die if anything worse than a picnic spat knocks down the door.’ Luckily, he changed the regimen when he became Captain, and the Guard stopped being so complacently incompetent.
“I would also note that your Guard was defeated on its home turf, as you’ve said many times in the past,” Shinya pointed out. “I agree with the sentiment, however. They drill well, but this is simply a mess.”
“Okay, first of all, Changelings are shapeshifters, and their Queen was siphoning off my his magic through his love to Cadence, who the Queen was impersonating. And besides, the Middle and Lower Cities held the line. Only the Upper City and the Palace fell.”
“Those are the most important locations, are they not?” Chack asked. “Your Palace is like our Great Halls, correct?”
Twilight bit her lip. “Yesh,” she admitted. “But some of the Guards there were impersonated, too! Fighting the pony who’s been by your side for years isn’t something I’d be willing to do, either.”
Shinya bowed his head slightly. “I will concede to that.”
Alden waved at the ‘Cats. “If we didn’t have to change up the rhythm, it’d be fine. They’ve got the discipline, but not the skills. And some of the guys from those Homes are a bit set, if you know what I mean.” He turned to face the others. “Wait--where’s Twilight?”
Chack scanned the crowd and pointed to a small group off to the side, where Twilight’s distinctive violet skin twirled and the staff in her hand whisked mere inches from a ‘Cat’s face. “She appears to be trying to get those Fristars in line. Should we help her?”
“Nah. She used her copy-paste spell to get everything on combat I know. Damn, my head feels weird just thinking about it! But yeah, she’ll be fine. Let’s just watch.” He walked over to the confrontation anyway.
A ‘Cat went down, his stomach working to fill his empty lungs. Another squirmed on the ground and wheezed. When Twilight saw Pete approach, she gestured for him to make a point--probably the same one she made herself. Two ‘Cats down, and the only effect on her was a slightly altered breath pattern. The slightest shake of his head, really only seen by her, gave her his answer.
One of the Fristars, easily the biggest of the five--now three--’Cats that had been making trouble, beat his chest in defiance and rammed a spear into the ground. Gasps went through the crowd: a formal challenge had been made. He and Twilight began to circle, and when she reached the spear, she picked it up and threw it down, accepting the challenge.
“You dare to shame Fristar in this way, alien?” the ‘Cat demanded.
“Yes, because you are the problem, not me,” she cooly replied. Her eyes glistened, but no magic formed around her hands. “Sergeant Alden, Lieutenant Shinya, Chack, and I have been working to create a camaraderie of trust and friendship in this army, and I will not allow you to disrupt it when we need to band together. In case you haven’t noticed, it’s easier to pick you off one by one than it is to take all of you on at the same time. You remember the news about Amazonia Home, do you not? Broken and burning amongst the rocks, its people forever lost? Murdered by the Grik? If we don’t band together, their fate will be the same as ours! Even you must see the logic in that. If you do, then we will teach you not how to fight, but how to kill. And if you don’t…” She gestured to the spear. “Be my guest.”
Pete’s eyes widened as the two continued to circle. Twilight had never killed anyone in her entire life--aside from a few hundred Grik in a ship or two, but they were just creatures at best. She’d stressed that killing wasn’t a thing in Equestria. And yet, here she was, coldly daring an opponent to attack her. There was no question about the results of such a endeavor. If he did, he would die.
The ‘Cat seemed to recognize that, too, and when he reached the spear, he kicked it away, rescinding his challenge.
“Then show me, Prin-sess Maa-reen,” he said, directing his gaze to Alden as well. “Teach me how to kill.”
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Twilight laughed with glee as the wind bit her face, leaning as far over the bridgewing rail as she dared. Walker’s stern crouched low, and the old knife-point bow rose over the waves as she leapt from the fueling pier with the grace and speed of a pouncing cat. Beside her, just as excited but more conservative toward her position, Kansas smiled. Matt’s expedition was underway, with two regiments of Marines, one of Guards, and the rest militia made from the other Homes and Baalkpan. The militia, on Salissa, were already underway. Twilight’s Royal Guards were spread through a bunch of feluccas, and the Walker carried the Marines. Once the fight began, Twilight would teleport herself and Kansas to the lead felucca--assuming it didn’t sink.
As the destroyer passed the mouth of Baalkpan Bay, cheers erupted from the largest felucca in the expedition, just ahead. Twilight returned her Guards’ emphatic waves with her own while Matt blew the whistle in greeting. The felucca was near the rear of the formation, with Salissa about a quarter-mile ahead and the remaining dozen feluccas forming a circle around the massive cannon-armed Home.
The sun hid behind a curtain of gunmetal-gray clouds, obscuring its rays and replacing them with a gloomy atmosphere. Walker’s exhaust added a dark tone to the mix, and the silhouettes of the other ships deepened the feeling. Despite this, Twilight was having a blast. She was back on the open ocean.
Her ears perked with the distant drone of the PBY’s twin engines. She turned around just in time to see the seaplane and its newly-repaired wing bounce off a whitecap wave and lumber into the sky. It wobbled worryingly, but it held together. Its pilot--probably Ben Mallory--made a gradual banking turn over Walker’s fo’c’sle. Even from a hundred feet or so up, his engines drowned out all other sounds for a solid minute. Then it flew away, banking to the right and into the overcast cloud cover beyond the horizon.
Twilight redirected her attention to the fo’c’sle. The number-one gun crew were cleaning out the barrel and breech, and were having a bit of trouble navigating around the crazy contraption next to them. Matt wanted to use it in the operation, but rigged for sea, all it did was crowd the already-cramped space with a bamboo structure. Similar contraptions adorned the feluccas that carried the Guards.
Verun-Kanas’s tail twitched as Twilight climbed back down to the deck. “Sky Priest Adar was correct,” she said. “This is going to be a bad storm.”