//------------------------------// // Chapter 33 // Story: My Little Destroyermen: Walker on Water // by The Atlantean //------------------------------// Matthew Reddy felt something ripple from the far northwest, likely hundreds if not thousands of miles beyond the horizon. It was definitely magical, but whatever it was, it wasn’t Twilight. Her magic had more of a mystical, starry feel to it, whereas this felt more like the sundown before a warm summer night. The magic lingered for a few seconds before dissipating, leaving him with the feeling that somebody controlled it. He’d have to ask Twilight when she returned. In the meantime, he had to content himself with Walker’s corkscrew roll as she bounced through the light swells of the southern Java Sea. The destroyer held a screening position a few miles ahead of the forty large feluccas and five Homes of the Allied Expeditionary Force’s “battle line”: Salissa, Humfra-Dar, Aracca, Neracca, and Fristar. The massive Homes ploughed through the sea with ease under their great tripod sails, completely filled with a wind coming out of the northeast. Another few miles ahead of Walker sailed the former Grik Indiaman Revenge, acting as a scout to stop Grik ships before they encountered Walker and raised some kind of alarm. Revenge’s hull was painted red rather than Matt’s preferred black with a white stripe over the gunports, but the Grik used red, so if he wanted Revenge to surprise them when they attacked the armada Ben Mallory reported anchored in the bay outside Aryaal, red it had to be. Still, she had a few marked differences: twenty 12-pounder bronze cannons and the United States flag. The guns were tucked behind her hidden gunports, and her flag streamed in the wind. Beyond her hazy form, the island of Java loomed on the horizon. They’d reach Aryaal just before midnight at this pace. Once again, he contemplated his decision to send Twilight off on her own when the soldiers she’d trained were about to fight without her. Her Royal Guards, or “Royals” for distinguishability, would be on the front lines with six thousand other Lemurians from both Alden’s Marines and the Baalkpan Guard when they landed. Depending on how the Grik leaders interpreted their standard (but slightly different) training, they might be considered either a weak link or a hard nut to crack. He seriously hoped it wouldn’t be the former. “They’ll be alright,” Lieutenant Sandra Tucker said from beside him as if she was reading his thoughts. “Pete and Shinya both said they’re on par with the Marines.” “They should have Twilight, though. She trained them.” “You said yourself that we need the magic from her ship before somebody else finds it. Besides, Nightmare Moon is out there, and so is Twilight’s friend.” “Yeah, but it’s not like either of them can even get to it.” “We both know that’s not true. Both of them are extremely powerful. I bet Nightmare Moon could lift that wreck if she wanted.” “I guess. Did you feel that… I guess it was magic? When the air just… shimmered?” “I did. It was warm, like a summer sunset.” She gazed to the west. “It’s going to be a pretty night.” “If we don’t get attacked by a mage.” ------------------------- Walker crept into Aryaal with her running lights and searchlights off. She now steamed only a couple hundred yards ahead of Salissa, and Revenge a couple hundred yards further. A hush fell over the crew as they watched the lanterns of over four dozen Grik ships, lazily anchored right where Mallory had last seen them. They’d caught their enemy with his britches down, and the ironic feeling of being a predator instead of prey was exhilarating but quiet. Revenge, with her distinguishing blue lanterns, disappeared into the fleet. Matt tracked her progress. She would fire once discovered, opening the battle and signaling everyone else to begin firing themselves. Several minutes passed with increasing tension. Even with her red paint, she should’ve been spotted by now. Suddenly, the night lit up with the flash of cannon as Revenge blasted a nearby Grik ship and vanished behind a screen of white smoke. Just as suddenly, the roar reached them. A steady pounding followed the initial boom, joined by the rolling thunder of the battle line and crash of Walker’s own guns. The four-inch-fifties aimed near the waterline, trying to sink the Grik ships in as few shots as possible. Meanwhile the three-inch on the fantail thumped star shells into the sky, illuminating the night’s carnage. Some of the Grik ships scurried to react. Crossbow bolts thrummed from the nearest ones, and a couple others started throwing fireballs. One of number one’s crew, shrieking in pain as one of the fireballs hit him, tumbled off the side and into the black water below. Matt shuddered. The bay started to become more and more cluttered with sunken hulks. Many masts poked above the surface like a stumpy forest, but most likely remained underwater. Walker bounced from some kind of impact with a sunken ship and began vibrating wildly. Just as suddenly as it started, the motion stopped and her boilers quieted. The number one gun crashed again, spitting fire at a nearby Grik ship. Matt reached for the engine room telegraph. “Engineering, Bridge. What happened?” “McFarlane here. I think we threw a blade on the port screw. Starboard should be back up momentarily. Any idea what caused it?” “Probably hit a sunken mast. Just get the engine running.” “Aye, Skipper.” Matt sighed. For the foreseeable future, Walker’s speed was cut in half. Even with three boilers, they could only use one engine. He refocused his attention back to the battle and checked his watch. Just under half an hour had passed. It felt like an eternity, and mopping up the remnants of the wrecked Grik armada felt longer. Finally, the bay fell silent aside from the burning hulks of over forty Grik ships. “Lookout says there’s a boat to port!” the talker, Fred Reynolds, reported. He paused for a second, listening. “It’s ‘Cats, sir.” “Hold your fire!” Matt called as he ran to the port bridgewing. Above him, Greg Garrett repeated the order at the clack of a machine gun being racked. He squinted in the dark, eventually making out the vague shapes of five heavily armored ‘Cats, two more decorated ones, and two humans. Two very relieved humans. ------------------------- “They have defeated our allies in the bay around Surabaya,” Sunset Shimmer said with a trancelike voice. Her eyes, normally blackened by the effects of some sort of mind-control magic, glowed white like a bright light, and her hair floated aimlessly, magically, around her head. “Any troops they have will be free to land and attack the forces assembled around the Tree Prey’s walls.” Captain Hisashi Kurokawa smiled deviously and turned to Commander Sato Okada. “We will inform our allies of this development. Perhaps it will encourage them to leave this reeking insult of a harbor sooner.” “And if the American destroyer is sunk before we depart?” The captain's expression quickly morphed into a scowl. “They will not be sunk by the Grik as long as I live! I swear, if one of those damned wretched lizards of a person kills the American captain in battle, I will personally shoot them with the main battery! And if they sink that ship, I will wipe their pathetic Celestial Mother off the face of the earth! Am I understood?” “Yes, Captain.” Quieter, so any nearby crew wouldn’t hear, Okada cautioned, “I fear that this may not be honorable. We may have strayed from The Way!” “My honor requires me to exact my vengeance on the damned Americans who trapped me in this twisted variant of our world. Yours may be different, but as your captain, mine supersedes yours. Now we will make it clear to our allies--” he spat out the word-- “that the American destroyer is ours to sink, and its crew is ours to defeat. Their primitive selves will understand that much.” “Yes, Captain,” Okada submitted, his tone low. “Ms. Shimmer, what else do you see?” “I cannot find Twilight Sparkle. She is here in this world. I can feel her, but she is out of sight. She is… longing. She misses her friends and her home. But she is lost, injured. I can feel pain and failure in her magic, but I can’t tell what for.” Sunset’s eyes darkened again as her spell ended. “You’ve come a long way from being unable to lift a pebble with your magic,” Okada commented. “I’ve always been a quick study. Probably why Celestia held me back.” She growled. “I’ll show her power.” “Yes, that’s well and all,” Kurokawa interrupted, “but what did you see, Shimmer?” “The Americans and their allies have built a sailing warship similar to Grik vessels, but it’s smoother, sleeker, stronger. I don’t know how. They also have many of their larger ships acting as some sort of convoy for their troops. By tomorrow, we may well see the Grik be defeated at Surabaya. That’s all I can tell, Captain,” she answered, bowing her head in submission. “You said their mage feels pain and failure, and you can see that in their magic, yes?” “Yes, Captain.” Kurokawa’s smile returned. “What kind of pain?”