Keje-Fris-Ar anxiously watched as his sopping-wet People tried to set up some kind of shelter in the sheet rain and howling wind that ravaged them under a thick blanket of dark gray clouds. Two feluccas were beached but not before tranferring their “Royal Guards” to others, and gri-kakka boats plied back and forth between the beach and a half-sunk Salissa just beyond the breakers, navigating carefully around the fallen forward tripod and wing debris around the massive Home. The trip out was, admittedly, much more difficult than the ride in, but each one was necessary. His People gave the appearance of a shipwrecked Home: scattered, weary, and disorganized. It was the perfect target for marauding Grik patrol!
As if his thoughts were a prophecy, a signal flag rolled up Salissa’s center tripod. It was an acknowledgement flag: the Grik had already been spotted, and were likely bearing down on their prey. Other flags unfurled and whipped in the wind. From what he remembered of Matt’s explanations, they said that there were three Grik ships.
“Brother!” he called as Sky Priest Adar climbed out of a gri-kakka boat. “It is good to see you still alive in this torrent!”
“Indeed,” Adar replied when he was closer. “I saw the signals. The Grik come.”
“So I must go to Salissa. Take care of our People, brother.”
“That will be difficult, but not impossible. I will act in your stead. Kill Grik and emerge victorious, brother.”
Keje patted Adar’s shoulder and climbed into the gri-kakka boat. He felt the misery of the boat crew folk as they strained against the waves, but they quickly reached Salissa’s lee. He clambered to the deck, inspecting the “fake” storm damage. Barrels, yardarms, and other unrecognizable debris were strewn across the deck. He glanced back at the beach, where his People began to panic.
On the battlement, he raised a pair of binoculars borrowed from Courtney Bradford and confirmed three bloodred Grik hulls under separate towers of dingy canvas in the stormy sea beyond the rocks. They were advancing quickly, and all doubt of going unnoticed dissipated. His ears registered the distant, nearly overwhelmed drone of the PBY’s engines as it turned away and headed back to Baalkpan. Walker was still nowhere to be found.
A felucca, caught between the Grik vessels and the rocks, piled on as much sail as it dared and darted behind a wave, disappearing for a few seconds. When it came into view again, two of the Grik ships were heaving to while the third hung back. All three dropped barges chock full of warriors into the water to attack Salissa, then her helpless People on the beach. His stomach churned at the thought.
The caught felucca flew a light blue flag with a sun, moon, and two elongated creatures in a circle, indicating that Twilight Sparkle was aboard. The flag was apparently one of the few things recovered before her ship had sunk, before the People had met Walker, and represented her own People. After months of necessary neglect, it once again fulfilled its purpose.
“I believe that it is our move,” he said to one of Adar’s acolytes. The acolyte raised a small handheld device in the air and pulled the trigger. A bright reddish object plumed upward from a thin trail of smoke, eventually vanishing from sight. It then blossomed for a few seconds, shining a light that would be visible for miles.
The Grik paused, obviously scared by the device, but when it didn’t do anything else, they quickly resumed their relentless advance. They were halfway to Salissa now.
“There! Waa-kur has come!” Jarrik-Fas cried, pointing to a small gray shape three miles to the north. Keje snarled with the satisfaction of watching the amazing ship pounce upon her unsuspecting enemy with ease.
“They have taken the bait. Shall we?” he asked.
Keje nodded to Jarrik-Fas, who strode to a long bronze cylinder suspended above the deck and struck it energetically with an iron rod. The loud, clear (if a bit flat) notes reverberated nicely through all areas of the ship just as it did during tests. Almost immediately, ten large gunports swung open, and the decks swarmed with militia. The Grik, three-quarters of the way now, paused again in the face of this new threat. For a second, Keje thought they might actually turn around, but they once again resumed with a crescendo of noise.
The Grik finally seemed to notice Walker. Keje watched with a predatory smile as one of the ships piled on as much sail as possible and quickly gathered way. The other two weren’t so lucky: one accidentally clattered one of its feet to the water with a splash, while the other found a course that might collide it with Salissa. The felucca with Twilight’s flag swung back around the rocks, joined by several others. From Keje’s vantage point, he could guess that she would try to capture the ship that had dropped anchor.
“At my command, Jarrik-Fas…”
-------------------------
Twilight silently urged her felucca ahead, hoping to catch the ship that orbited around its anchor rope before its crew cut it loose. She bounced on the waves, drenching her rain-soaked uniform with salty ocean spray. Her mind scanned the Grik ship’s topsides, and her heart sank as she realized that she would have to take it without Walker’s machine guns to clear the deck. Thankfully, Chief Gray had given her some weapons, but she was limited to a Thompson, a BAR (both operated by volunteering destroyermen), and the half-dozen grenades hanging on her belt.
She leaned around the boarding ramp thing--called a corvus by the Americans--on the felucca’s bow and prayed that it would hold. If it failed, she would be forced to either abandon the operation or cast a mentally-draining spell to get everyone across.
The ship kept circling its anchor rope. When the felucca came close enough, a nauseous wave of stench blew over via the wind.
“Mr. Felts! Mr. Donaghey! Help me clear the topsides!” she called.
Within seconds, the brap-bap-bap-bap of Felt’s Thompson and duller bam-bam-bam of Donaghey’s BAR rang loudly in her ears. Being without Walker’s machine guns, they were allotted more ammo, but they would still need to be careful. Twilight blasted magic across the gap, taking out the mainmast and mizzen with precise hits that would impress Princess Celestia given the circumstances. The two masts crashed to the deck, crushing who-knew-how-many Grik beneath them.
A dull whump sounded from Salissa. Stealing a glance, she saw that the entire ship was obscured by a blanket of smoke. All of the small Grik boats were gone, too.
“That’s as clear as it’ll get from here, ma’am!” Felts yelled.
“Got it. Stand back!” Twilight signaled for the first of her Guards to swing the corvus down onto the Grik ship. The felucca captain navigated a little closer, and Twilight had to take a moment to appreciate the concentration and skill required to hold position like he did without Walker’s engines. Speaking of which--the old destroyer was currently grappling with her enemy and probably boarding.
The corvus crashed down, bending horrifyingly far before springing back. With a scream imitating Griffon war cries, Twilight brandished her mage-blades and followed the first of her Guards across the corvus and onto the Grik deck.