Twilight massaged her arm, still slowly healing after the fight to take Phoenix, and watched a human-Lemurian crane, quickly thrown together the other afternoon, lift one of the magic containers in Friendship’s upper hold and gently lower it down onto the beach. Two of the nine heavy containers had already been offloaded from the wreck, having been in the lower hold and therefore easily accessible to the initial entry point.
Nearby, a small Home-shaped funeral pyre burned. The previous night, the beach party was attacked by indigenous versions of the Grik, and a couple ‘Cats died during the fight. Twilight still felt their loss. They may not have been ponies or yaks or griffons (or any species living in Equestria, really), but they were still under her command and part of the crew aboard a warship under the Equestrian flag. As far as she was concerned, they were Equestrians in their own right.
“You shouldn’t be worryin’ so much about the barrels,” Silva said from his perch on, ironically, one of the crates within which a magic container was buried under general ship supplies. He had a BAR slung over his shoulder, and in his hand, he held a precious half-eaten apple that he seemed to be enjoying like it was the most delicious thing in the world. Twilight still wasn’t sure how he’d found it, but nonetheless let him keep it. He deserved it, and she still had two left.
In the distance, the somewhat-familiar drone of the PBY rumbled into being. A minute later, the big plane appeared between two large, fluffy clouds and thundered down to the water, landing near Phoenix with a feathered splash. From the looks of it, the hard-magic wing was holding up pretty well.
“Mr. Silva, you should take the plane to Aryaal. I think I’ll stay here for a while longer,” she said.
“Why’s that? It can fit more’n both of us.”
“I want one of the barrels to be put aboard Walker, and Captain Reddy needs you and your weapons more than he needs me. I’ll stay here and make sure the other eight make it to the beach, while you take the ninth to Aryaal. I’ll teleport over once I’m done. This won’t be a request, Mr. Silva.”
Dennis straightened his posture a little more. “Yes, ma’am. I’ll make sure it gets there.”
-------------------------
Ben Mallory dropped below the cloud layer around Menjangan, shivering as he remembered the last time he flew in this area. Walker hadn’t been here, nor was she sighted all the way to Alor. He, Perry Brister, and Ed Palmer had no food, almost no water, and he’d been considering feathering one of the props to stretch the fuel so they could reach Balikpapan.
He sighted a distinctive gold stripe against the midnight-blue of Phoenix’s hull bouncing lightly in the low swells, anchored off the island with her sails stowed. Near her, a whole ship had been set on the ground. This second ship had no masts other than the bowsprit, and was similarly colored to Phoenix. Ben could think of a thousand reasons for this, but the only reasonable one was that it was Twilight’s ship when she arrived in this screwed-up world, Friendship.
Before he came closer, he confirmed the Equestrian flags fluttering from both ships and that the small pillar of smoke next to them wasn’t actually a problem. He checked his fuel for the millionth time. Just enough to get to Surabaya with a little to spare. He came in for a landing next to the pier jutting out from the beach, extending the wing floats and tapping the surface with a splash.
-------------------------
“Mr. Mallory,” Twilight said as the pilot approached her from the PBY’s position at the end of the pier. She returned his salute and smiled. “I trust the wing works?”
“What? Oh, yeah, it works great. Almost better than the original. It’s like magic.” He frowned. “Wait a minute…”
She laughed. “You people are never gonna get used to magic, are you? But we do have business to attend to. I’m not going to Aryaal, not yet.”
“But the Skipper wants you with those Guards of yours as soon as possible.”
“I know. But he’ll get Silva and a barrel of magic. I think he’ll need Silva more than me, at least for now.”
“If that’s the plan. They’ve probably landed by now. Tom says the battle’s about to start.”
“In which case, we need to go. Mr. Silva!”
“Are you changing your mind?”
She paused. “Yes. No. Kind of. You’re still gonna be taking this--” She patted the magic barrel next to her. “And some things I recovered from Friendship.”
Silva bounded along the beach, lugging his BAR. “You called, ma’am?”
“We have a change of plans. Are you okay with teleportation?”
Ben’s eyes widened in horror. If the gleam in Silva’s eye meant anything, he wasn’t going to let anyone forget this. He’d never hear the end of it no matter what happened now.
“If it ain’t gonna kill me, sure!” the big gunner’s mate grinned.
Twilight opened the magic barrel and scooped some of the viscous black-violet liquid into her palm. It absorbed itself into her hand, and her eyes darkened from the magic within her body. She took a deep breath to calm herself.
“It’s going to feel a little weird,” she warned. Before anyone could react, she reached up to Silva’s shoulder and closed her eyes. Silva disappeared in a flash of white and purple, jerking Twilight’s eyes open. She consulted her mage-sword’s shiny blade base. Right on target.
-------------------------
Matt looked around from his perch on top of a “brontosarry” the Aryaalans provided him as a token of friendship. Their liaison scanned the Grik mass ahead, directing the dinosaur’s driver to follow the Allied Expeditionary Force’s army.
He sighed and spotted around a half-dozen destroyermen who, in good Silva fashion, had decided to join the battle with their modern weapons. Tom Felts was over there, near the Fourth Baalkpan Guard with his Thompson slung over his back and his cutlass drawn. Spread along the line, he saw Andy Simms, Loris Scurrey, Gil Olivera, and Glen Carter in similar situations. There was something to be said about the guys who hung out with the likes of Dennis Silva.
Suddenly, a yelp and a splat signaled the arrival of someone familiar. Matt turned his head and was genuinely surprised at the sight of Silva himself, BAR, cutlass, and all. Speak of the devil, and he actually shows up.
“Mr. Silva, I thought you were on Menjangan with Twilight.”
“She tell-ee-ported out here ‘cause she said you’ll need me, Skipper.”
“That’s some serious range. Did she use some of the magic in one of her barrels?”
“Yessir, she did! She’ll be along shortly once all them is off the wreck. You should’a seen her, Skipper! She plumb lifted the whole thing off the bottom and carried it all the way to the beach!”
“Can’t say I’m not impressed,” Gray grumbled. Keje-Fris-Ar agreed, still panting somewhat from jogging alongside the dinosaur for a couple hundred yards.
“Well, you’re here now. You’ll be under Gray’s orders for now, but the basic idea is that you help support the line with your cutlass. Don’t use the BAR unless you absolutely have to.”
“Aye, Skipper!” Silva then jogged out to the ‘Cat battle line, where Shinya’s voice carried over the open field, calling out each regiment by name. At each call, a roar erupted from the troops.
After several minutes, Shinya finally gave the order: “At the quick time, march!”