Rekindled Embers

by applezombi

Chapter 12

Emberglow’s Journal Entry, dated 1112 AF

I think I’m going to turn this dream journal into a regular journal.  My intent was to record the strange dreams I had about the mare in the moon (I know who Lofty thinks she is, and I think he’s right, but I still don’t want to write Her name down) but I haven’t dreamed of her since I left the capital.  Can she not contact me when I’m this far away?  Either way, I wanted to start recording my non-dream thoughts and feelings, and this seems like the perfect spot.  Don’t worry, journal.  I’ll still record every dream.

The port is not at all what I expected.  I have no really clear memories of what life was like outside of New Canterlot City, but I’m sure Rainbow Falls was nothing like this.  The ponies don’t seem to care about the Saints at all.  They offer lip service, but I’m starting to suspect that even that is just because I’m within earshot.  I’m trying to get used to seeing prostitutes and drug dealers plying their wares in broad daylight, but I don’t think I ever will.

The radio reports from NCC say they’re having an oddly unseasonal cold snap.  The news says the early frost has destroyed tons of crops in the northern Diarchy.  I’m worried about my parents; the food shortages threaten to drive up prices, and they’re not wealthy.

This is probably the first time I’ve felt jealous of my comrades in the Adamant.  I find myself full of sinful covetousness, wishing I had their salary so I could send it home to my parents.  Knowing them though, they’d probably try to find a way to refuse.

I’m finding myself oddly afraid of this unnatural weather.  it’s not hitting us this far south, but something in the news reports made me think of the creatures from my vision, when I touched the orb back before I was Knighted.  The frigid, cold creatures.  Even writing about them here makes me shiver.

Ugh.  That’s enough journal writing for today, I think.  I’d rather not give myself nightmares.

1112 AF, Port Luminescence

Turquoise affectionately called the Knights’ home in Port Luminescence the Turtle.  It was wide and squat, only two stories tall compared to the other three- or four-story ‘manors’ that it shared a neighborhood with, though that name hardly seemed apt to Emberglow when compared to the grand stone structures of New Canterlot City.  Port Luminescence’s wealthiest neighborhood had finer houses than the rest of the town, but that merely meant the wooden and stucco houses were slightly larger and less covered in mud.  The Turtle didn’t have much by way of a yard or grounds, though the squat roof did hold an impressive garden, and it was wider than most of its neighboring buildings.

The interior held enough space for personal rooms for six Knights, including two bathrooms (one of which contained the all-important giant tub!), one on the upstairs with the bedrooms, the other downstairs near the entrance.  There was a kitchen and a dining room, complete with an elegant long table and electric lights hanging from the ceiling.  The caretaker and gardener, an aged earth pony couple, stayed in a small suite next to the kitchen.  Lime Peel and Painted Plow were quiet, respectful, and competent, and Emberglow liked them the moment she met them.  They kept the place spotless, and as soon as Emberglow and Turquoise walked into the Turtle, Emberglow could smell the evidence of Lime Peel’s expert culinary skills.  Turquoise had inhaled deeply as soon as the front doors were open, proclaiming ‘tacos!’ cheerfully as she ushered the younger Knight into the manor.

The two mares took turns with the giant bubble bath before dinner.  Lime Peel assured them they could eat when they were done, and Emberglow felt like she really needed the soothing soapy water after her long airship ride.  She stayed in until the water began to grow cold.

Dinner was delightful, though the large dining room, designed for nearly a dozen ponies, felt quite empty with only Emberglow and Turquoise.  Delver was working late, and Bubblegum was spending time with her husband at the modest home they shared.  The soldiers who would be joining them for the mission, including Gearsmith and Gadget, were housed at the barracks near where Emberglow had met Sir Delver.  So the older Knight and her former squire indulged on hoof-made tortillas and perfectly seasoned beans and vegetables while Emberglow and Turquoise caught up.  Afterwards, Turquoise showed Emberglow to her room.

It was larger than she was used to at nearly three times the size of her room at home.  It was empty, and perhaps a bit soulless in its lack of decoration.  There was a simple box frame bed, a small shelf for books, and a simple desk, all sitting on a polished wood floor.

To the right of the door sat a wooden crate; it was her armor.  Porters from the airship dock had already brought it.  She slipped her saddlebags off her back, setting them at the foot of her new bed.  The crate had already been pried open, the lid lying loose on the top.

“Is this your new armor?” Turquoise asked from the hallway outside Emberglow’s room.  Emberglow nodded silently, her eyes fixed on the box like a foal lusting after her Hearth's Warming presents.  “Well?  Might as well open it.  I want to see, too.”

Carefully Emberglow lifted the lid of the crate.  Inside was a brand new, shiningly pristine set of white armor.

“Aw, it’s not pink,” Turquoise whined.  Emberglow snorted her amusement.

“I would have been disappointed if it was,” she replied, running her hoof lovingly over the three blue diamond motif painted on the flank of the armor.

“I’m proud of you, Knight,” Turquoise said, and Emberglow looked up with surprise at the strained voice of her former mentor.  Turquoise’s eyes were shining and wet, and the pink-robed mare rubbed at her eyes with her sleeve.  “I’m so proud.”

“Getting emotional, Lady Turquoise?” Emberglow teased.  Turquoise’s ears twitched.

“Hush, you.  I’m not crying, it’s liquid pride.  Besides, you don’t have to call me Lady any more.  You know that.”

“A year of habit doesn’t go away in an hour, Turquoise,” Emberglow said.  “No matter what happens, you’ll always be Lady Turquoise to me, even if I don’t say it.”  The older Knight laughed, and drew Emberglow into an affectionate embrace.

“Well, get some rest.  If I know Delver, tomorrow will be busy.  We’ve got some diplomatic responsibilities to take care of first before we can set sail, and dealing with the locals can be exhausting.  I’ll come get you for breakfast at 0700, if you’re not up yet.”

“I’ll be up,” Emberglow said.  She was a natural early riser.  “Good night, Turquoise.”

“Night,” the other mare said, and slipped into the hallway, pulling the wooden door closed behind her and leaving Emberglow alone to unpack her sparse possessions: a pair of spare robes and underthings, her personal copy of the Book of the Saints, the official Knight Code of Conduct manual, and her journal.  Last of all were her good luck charms; a pair of carved wooden ponies, and a metal medallion carved to look like her cutie mark.  These she placed on her shelf.  

“Well, we’re here, Lucky,” she whispered gently to the carved unicorn.  “I’m so excited.  And nervous.  I hope I’ll be good enough.”

The bed was just as comfortable as it had looked, but with her body full of nervous energy and her head full of excited thoughts, it still was a few hours before Emberglow was able to drift off to sleep.

The next morning Emberglow was the second into the dining room, ten minutes before seven in the morning.  Delver sat by himself at the long table, idly chewing on some toast while he looked over paperwork. He was already dressed in his armor.

“Good morning, sir,” Emberglow said as she approached.  The black coated stallion looked up and waved a hoof, fork and all, at Emberglow.

“Morning, Knight.  Sleep well?” he asked politely.  Emberglow nodded and pulled out a chair across from him, taking a seat.  “Wonderful.  Busy day today.”

“That’s what Turquoise said.  Something about meeting the locals?”

“Sometimes keeping Blingshine happy means playing his ridiculous games.  He’s known for a week that a new Knight was coming to town, and he wants to meet you.  He always asks to meet with any new Knights that come to town.  He’s going to try to feel you out.”

“Why?  What’s he after?” Emberglow asked.  There was a light hoofstep entering the dining room as Lime Peel approached the table.  Both of the Knights’ ears perked up as they looked up at the elderly caretaker.

“Sorry to interrupt, sir, lady.  Lady Emberglow, what would you like for breakfast?” the lime green earth pony mare asked gently.

“Um…” Emberglow hesitated, not really knowing what she could ask for.  Delver came to her rescue.

“Breakfast is casual here, and the caretaker will make pretty much whatever you want.  Lime Peel makes great pancakes, and the eggs are always fresh.  None of that powdered crap you get on the war fronts, mind you.  Real maple syrup, too.  Can’t get good coffee with all the piracy between here and the zebra republic, though,” he said.

“Can I get Prench toast, then?” Emberglow asked.  “And any coffee is fine.” It hurt a little to say that sentence out loud, but she’d manage.

“Of course, Lady Emberglow.  I got some blueberries and fresh cream in the icebox, if you want those on top of your Prench toast,” the caretaker replied.  Emberglow nodded, her mouth watering in anticipation.

“How do you take your coffee?” the elderly caretaker asked.

“Black, please,” Emberglow said.  Lime Peel bustled off, leaving the two Knights alone.  “So what should I expect from Blingshine?”

“He’s going to prod you.  Test you.  He wants to know what kind of Knight you are, if you have any buttons he can push, all while under the veneer of a polite meeting.  I’ve got us scheduled to go meet with him for lunch.”

“Any advice?” Emberglow asked, feeling apprehensive.  Delver paused, considering.

“Honestly, Blingshine is the reason I requested a Knight Jubilant be assigned here.  I’m not a diplomat.  Turquoise has been here a month and already she’s brought my stress levels down measurably.  So you’ll have to talk to her more about that.  If I were to suggest anything, it would be this: be polite but vague in your answers.  Be aware of your emotions and your reactions, and don’t let him push you.  He’s going to want to figure out how you fit into whatever petty plots or schemes he’s got going on, so if you give him nothing, he can’t use you.”

“Thank you, sir,” Emberglow said.  “I’ll keep all that in mind.”

Turquoise wandered into the dining room shortly afterwards, smiling but slightly bleary eyed from sleep.  She slumped into her chair and waited patiently for Lime Peel’s return.  The caretaker entered the dining room to drop off a fresh stack of Prench toast in front of Emberglow. 

“Morning, Lime,” Turquoise mumbled.  “Eggs and toast.  Black coffee, please.  Sunny side up on the eggs.”  Lime Peel left the dining room with a smile and a nod for Turquoise.

“Morning!  Coffee and pancakes, please!” A cheerful shout came from the door to the dining room as Bubblegum, followed by a pegasus stallion Emberglow had never met, blew into the room. Turquoise flinched at the volume, her ears instinctively flinching away from the verbal explosion.  

The Knight Adamant was dressed in her blue armor.  Similar to Delver’s, it was clearly well-maintained and well used, with the obvious scratches and nicks that indicated combat usage.  Emberglow was slightly surprised by the obvious care Bubblegum took in her armor; she’d expected the mare who was so sloppy with her discipline and professionalism to be sloppy with her possessions as well.  

The stallion was tall and lanky, with a coat the color of storm clouds and a windswept pale green mane.  He was wearing simple brown trousers and a white linen shirt, the kind of style that, if he added a tricorn hat and an eyepatch, would look like he was a pirate from the illustrated foal’s books Emberglow used to read.  He had an earnest, friendly sort of look on his face.

The overly cheerful Adamant pointed at Emberglow.  “That’s the new girl I told you about, Windy.”

The pegasus, Wind Storm, eyed his wife critically, as if silently waiting for more.  Bubblegum stayed pointing at Emberglow, a silly grin plastered on her face.  Finally she noticed her husband’s disapproving gaze, and looked at him with confusion.

“What?” she asked.  He sighed, and moved gently past his wife to approach Emberglow with a bow.

“Hello, Lady Emberglow, I am Wind Storm.  I apologize for my wife’s rudeness.”

“Nice to meet you, Wind Storm,” Emberglow said, trying not to laugh at Bubblegum’s pouting face.  She decided she quite liked Bubblegum’s husband; he seemed to be a grounded sort of stallion.  She stood up and held out a hoof to the other pegasus, and they shook.

“You don’t know how glad I am to know there will be a Knight Radiant out there on the seas with my Bubblegum,” he said as he squeezed her hoof with both of his.  His eyes were worried, full of love and earnestness.  Emberglow felt a lump in her throat, suddenly feeling the weight of her new responsibilities as she looked into this stallion’s eyes.  “You’ll keep them safe?”

“Of course,” Emberglow said, her throat suddenly dry.  Bubblegum grunted, moving up to bump her husband with her flank.

“Why are you getting so serious all of a sudden?  I’ve been just fine this far,” Bubblegum groused.  She brushed past Emberglow and her husband to find an empty seat at the long table.  Her husband sat down next to her.

“You’ve been lucky,” Wind Storm teased, though Emberglow thought she heard a note of worry behind the light tone.

“Enough,” Delver cut in, just as Bubblegum had opened her mouth to protest.  She scowled at him, but Wind Storm nodded respectfully.  “We have business to discuss.”

The itinerary for the next few days was a busy one.  In addition to Emberglow’s meeting with Blingshine for lunch this afternoon (which would be attended by Turquoise and Deep Delver, but not Bubblegum, for ‘diplomatic reasons’), there would be a chance for Emberglow to meet all the marines who would be serving with the Knights.  The afternoon after the meeting would be filled with a tour of the ship they would be sailing on, and swimming lessons in the ocean.  Even though she knew it would be business, Emberglow was excited for the beach.  Over the next week, Emberglow would get a crash course in both swimming and ship-to-ship combat before the Knights and their marines embarked on the Lady Elegant, a three mast merchant ship deliberately built to disguise the presence of both the Knights, and the three pairs of heavy cannons.  Emberglow thought it a good omen to be embarking on a ship named after her patron Saint.

“Thank you for letting me join you for breakfast,” Wind Storm announced after the ponies finished an amazing breakfast with somewhat mediocre coffee.  “I’ve got to get started.  The Port’s clouds won’t bust themselves, and the Weather Bueareu hasn’t scheduled any rain for a week.”

“We should all be about our tasks,” Delver said.  “Emberglow, you’re with Turquoise and Bubblegum this morning.  They have business at the barracks as well.”  After saying their goodbyes to the caretakers, they set off for the barracks, a building inside the walled compound that housed the headquarters for the Diarchy Army.  The two spear-armed guards, wearing polished gunmetal colored armor, saluted the three Knights as they entered.

In the mowed grass lawn in front of the barracks, ten marines stood at attention waiting for the Knights.  Each one was wearing long jacket-style blue uniforms with yellow trim.  She recognized Gearsmith and Gadget; the mare broke her stance long enough to grin and wink at Emberglow before resuming her position.  Three of the ponies, including Gadget, wore the bar of a Private First Class on their right shoulder.  Gearsmith had the double bar plus crossed sabers of a corporal.  

“Knights!  Welcome back to Port Luminescence!  All three fire teams of Strike Squad Epsilon are ready for your inspection!” the pony closest to them called out.  She wore the same uniform, only with three bars and crossed sabers on her shoulder.  She was an earth pony, with white fur and a three-toned green mane, cut short in a military style.

“Thank you, Sergeant Arrow,” Turquoise said.  The inspection was mostly a courtesy; the Diarchy armed forces and the Knight orders shared an odd relationship.  While technically not part of the military command structure, marines were often assigned as support to teams of Knights.  “This is Lady Emberglow, of the Radiant.”

The Sergeant was a perfect picture of military discipline, but Emberglow could see the pleased look in the mare’s eyes as she stepped forward to offer her hoof for Emberglow to shake.  Her grip was strong.

“I heard we would be finally getting a Radiant.  Ever since Morning Dew went on maternity leave we haven’t had a medic.  Your presence will save lives, Lady Emberglow.  Thanks for being here.  My command has informed me that you will be our acting squad medic for the duration of your stay here,” the Sergeant said.  “Are you familiar with marine medic protocol?”

“A little,” Emberglow said.  There was some precedent for Knights being temporarily placed in the command structure of regular army units, so it was covered briefly in the Knight Code of Conduct book she had brought with her.  “I won’t be able to give orders or anything, except as it pertains to medical care and the health and wellbeing of your soldiers.  Is that correct?”

“More or less.  I’ll go over the procedures with you in detail, if you wish,” Sergeant Arrow said.  “For this morning, I wanted to introduce you to the squad and go over any questions with you.”  

“We have a few hours until our lunch appointment,” Turquoise said.  “Emberglow, if you’re fine here, you can meet the marines while Bubblegum and I go to speak with the local quartermaster about our provisions for the ship.”

“Boring stuff,” Bubblegum chimed in cheerfully.

Both of her more senior compatriots were looking at her for her assent.  It felt odd to be treated as an equal; for the last several years she had been a med student, then a page, then a squire. Something about being seen as an equal to these two Knights was weirdly frightening and elating at the same time.  She grinned at her own silly thoughts.

“Um, of course.”  She turned to Sergeant Arrow, trying to sound confident.  Military ponies responded to confidence, she thought.  “Sergeant, I’d like to meet with each of your squad, and go over anything I should know in their medical records.  Do we have time for a quick check up each?”

“I don’t see why not,” Sergeant Arrow said.  “You can use Morning Dew’s old office while we’re in Port Luminescence.  I’ll show you where she kept the medical records.”

The old Squad Epsilon medic’s office was in the same building that housed Delver’s office.  It contained a desk, an examination table, a filing cabinet, and an empty cabinet.

“No supplies?” Emberglow asked the sergeant as she inspected her new domain.  Sergeant Arrow shrugged.

“I think Morning Dew took everything with her before she shipped back to Harper’s Ford.  We didn’t think you’d need anything, because of your, um, magic.”

“In addition to my Knight training, I have also been classically trained as a doctor,” Emberglow informed the sergeant while she opened up the filing cabinet.  At least the squad’s records had been left inside.  She ignored the incredulous look the sergeant was giving her.  “I believe in an inclusive approach to pony health.  Medical technology and science exist for a reason, and magic isn’t always the best solution to every problem.  Would it be possible to requisition some basic medical supplies from the navy?  I can give you a list of what I will need.”

“Of course, Lady Emberglow,” Sergeant Arrow said professionally, hiding her surprise.  In truth, Emberglow didn’t care if ponies thought she was odd, as long as she could keep them healthy.  She flipped through the folders, each one with a pony’s name written in narrow, tight hoofwriting.  She found the one she was looking for, labeled with the name ‘Ice Arrow, Sergeant’.

“Shall we get started?” she asked with a smile.  Sergeant Arrow stared at her, confused.  “How long since your last physical, Sergeant Arrow?”  The pony said nothing, but looked suddenly uncomfortable.  “Sergeant?  Last time I looked, Navy and Marine regulations both require a physical for each soldier at least once every six months.  Is that correct?”

“Yes, Lady Emberglow,” the sergeant said, sounding miserable.

“So how long has it been?” Emberglow asked.  “Remember, I can…”

“Two years, Lady Emberglow,” Sergeant Arrow said in a rush.

“I see,” Emberglow said simply.  “Well, uniform off, up on the exam table please.  You may leave your smallclothes on.”  She ignored the pained sigh the sergeant gave, instead taking a moment while the mare disrobed to glance through her medical file.  There was nothing alarming, except a note in the same tight hoofwriting as the outside of the file, regarding a near paralyzing fear of needles and immunizations.

“This is Morning Dew’s hoofwriting, correct?” Emberglow asked.  She looked up to see Sergeant Ice Arrow, wearing nothing but underpants, sitting and trying not to shiver on the examination table.  Her body was muscled, tight with years of experience and exercise.  A collection of blade scars decorated her front legs and shoulders, and Emberglow could see a long healed, rather nasty bullet wound in the mare’s barrel.

“Yes, Lady Emberglow,” Sergeant Arrow said.

“Very well,” Emberglow said confidently.  “Morning Dew was quite impressed with your health.  You eat right, exercise regularly, and generally lead your troops by example.  You’re also months overdue for at least four immunizations.”

“Yes, ma’am,” the older mare said miserably.

“Fortunately for you today, I have no supplies yet, so I won’t be doing any poking today,” Emberglow said.  “Just a basic physical.  But you can’t hold it off forever, sergeant.  Just remember, it won’t be nearly as bad as when you got this,” she stepped over to the table and patted the sergeant's bullet wound.  Sergeant Arrow flinched.

Despite the promise of future shots, Sergeant Ice Arrow stoically endured the remainder of Emberglow’s physical examination.  In truth, without common instruments such as a sphygmomanometer or a stethoscope, there was not much she could do.  The whole exam only took ten minutes, and afterwards a relieved Sergeant was dismissed and asked to send in the next pony on file, a Cerulean Mallard, PFC.  While Emberglow waited, she read over Mallard’s file.  Nothing much stood out, except for a slight limp caused by a five year old spear injury to one of his rear legs.

One by one, each of the marines of Strike Squad Epsilon came in for Emberglow’s quick examination.  To a pony, every single one was respectful, and excited to have her joining them.  Each one was eager to meet her, and despite years of being a bit of a studious loner with few friends besides her parents and Lofty Tale, Emberglow found herself enjoying the chance to meet the soldiers she would be fighting alongside and keeping alive and healthy.  After several sessions of examinations and chats, though, she soon found herself holding Gadget's file.

Medical records were confidential.  An entire class in medical school had been dedicated to medical ethics, and the responsibility of a healer to keep her patients’ confidence.  Only a Confessor or a Knight could violate that confidence, and in the latter case, only if the pony was accused of a dire crime.  Doctors and other healers often had to have a complete picture of a pony’s lifestyle, so sometimes embarrassing or secret details could be found in their medical records.  Emberglow knew that her own included a statement about her homosexuality, as many doctors considered it a mental illness.  Not enough to keep her from serving as a Knight, however.  Emberglow’s stomach practically did flips as she read the words in Gadget’s records.

Confessed Homosexual.  Non-Practicing.

It was the same words listed in Emberglow’s medical records.  She had already dismissed the last soldier; Gadget was on her way.  What would she say?  Would she confess to her fellow sufferer?  Emberglow had never really spoken to another pony who was struggling with the same attractions she was; except for a few brief conversations serving soup to ponies being punished in the stockades.  Or maybe she should simply ignore it?  Pretend she hadn’t read?  No, that wouldn’t work; just as she knew her own records were marked, Gadget would know what was written in hers.

And how was she supposed to do an examination objectively?  She’d performed physicals on mares before, but none of them had been so…

The office’s wooden door opened, and the blue earth pony stepped inside, looking nervous.

“Lady Emberglow, it’s good to see you again,” Gadget said, her voice unsteady.  Emberglow managed a smile.

“Come in, Gadget.  Please disrobe and move up to the examination table.  You may leave your smallclothes on.”  It was a miracle her smile didn’t waver, and her voice remained calm.  “Your records are all in order.  Up to date on immunizations, no significant health concerns, no major injuries.  You’ve taken care of yourself.”

“I try, my lady,” Gadget said.  She had managed to get out of her uniform, and was sitting up on the table in nothing but her underpants, and Emberglow’s eyes dragged over the mare, just as cute in her fur as she had been in her uniform.  With great effort, Emberglow kept her jaw from dropping as she took in every line and curve of the mare’s body, every perfect muscle and every immaculate strand of her blond mane.  She stepped over to her patient, unable to look her in the eyes.

“I’m sorry I don’t have a stethoscope just yet, I’ll have to check your heart and lungs the old fashioned way,” Emberglow said, while wondering how she could possibly hear the beating of another pony’s heart over the pounding of her own.  “Please lay back.”  The soldier complied, laying on her back on the table.  With shaking hooves, Emberglow checked Gadget’s pulse first, feeling for the strong, steady beat of the earth pony’s heart.  Then she placed her ear on the patient’s chest, trying not to marvel in the softness of the blue fur as she listened for any breathing problems.  It was just like all the other physicals she had done, except for the nearly debilitating infatuation that was growing in her chest like a warm glow.  When she raised her head from the other mare’s chest, their eyes met, and Emberglow realized she hadn’t been as successful as she had hoped in hiding her reactions.

“You’ve read my file,” Gadget said softly.  “All of it.”  Emberglow nodded.

“I’m your doctor, marine.  Not your Confessor,” she replied.  “As far as I’m concerned, there’s nothing in your file I need to be worried about, so there’s no cause for concern.  You seem perfectly healthy, too.”  Something passed between them, from Gadget’s green eyes to Emberglow’s teal ones.  Emberglow realized her hooves were shaking, one of them still resting on the mare’s chest from the examination.  She hastily removed it and stepped back, the distance between the two mares feeling like a sudden necessity.  Emberglow opened her mouth to say something, but suddenly couldn’t think of anything.  What could she say?  Nothing either of them could say or do would do anything to change the situation they were in.  Emberglow didn’t know about Gadget, but the Knight had promised herself ages ago she would never act on her forbidden impulses.  She imagined, due to Gadget’s membership in the army, that the earth pony had made a similar promise.  She closed her mouth again, letting the pregnant silence continue its gravid hold as she turned away.

“You can get dressed, Gadget.  Thanks for coming in.  Can you send in your father next?”  She tried to make her voice cheerful, and not shaky.

“Of course, my lady.  And if the others haven’t said it yet, we’re all so glad you’re here.  Having a Knight Radiant is a blessing, and I’m glad it's somepony like you,” Gadget said.  Emberglow turned, smiling over her shoulder at the other mare.

“Only every other pony including the Sergeant has said so, Gadget.  But thanks for saying it again anyways.  I only hope I can live up to your expectations.”

The moment had passed, and Emberglow had survived without doing anything too sinful or even too embarrassing.  She distracted herself by looking over the next file, Gadget’s father Gearsmith.  For a middle-aged soldier pony with plenty of combat experience and dozens of old war wounds, he seemed to be in fairly good health himself.  Idly, she wondered if Gearsmith knew about the little notation in Gadget’s medical file.  Soon enough the older, blue-furred stallion entered her new office with a polite greeting.

“Hello, Lady Emberglow,” he said.  “How are you acclimating to the town?”

“I haven’t had much of a chance to see it yet,” she responded.  “I sure like The Turtle, though.”

“The Turtle?  Oh, the house you Knights live in.  I’ve seen it once or twice.  Quite nice,” he said.  “What do you need me to do?”

“Strip down to your underpants and get up on the exam table,” she said.  The motions of a physical were automatic, and she performed her tasks with casual precision.  Just as his file claimed, Gearsmith was in good health, with a strong heartbeat.

“How long have you been a soldier?” Emberglow asked.

“It wasn’t in my file?” Gearsmith snarked, laughing, before answering anyways.  “I lied about my age when I was fifteen to join up with the navy.  I’ve always loved ships, so I started out as an engineer on a supply ship running guns and ammo between Port Daywatch and Camp Swift Victory, in northern Zebrica.  When we were ambushed by a squadron of zebra raiders, I took up the rifle of a fallen comrade and realized I was a damned good shot.  Since then I’ve always carried a heavy gun.”

“And your wife?” Emberglow asked.

“We met in Daywatch.  Merry Gray was in the army briefly, but… well, not everypony is built for war and fighting.  She took a medical retirement as soon as she became pregnant with Gadget.  I took a post training heavy gunners in New Canterlot City, and she got a job as a groundskeeper for the Sorbet family.”  Gearsmith laughed at a memory.  “The kid took after me too much, I think.  Merry had talked about how excited she was to have a daughter, and I think she was looking forward to, well, doing girly things with her.  You know, frilly dresses, tea parties, that sort of thing.”

“Not the way things turned out?” Emberglow asked, grinning.  She was enjoying the conversation with the older soldier.

“Oh no.  The kid was much more at home with me tinkering with airship engines and firearms than she was in a fancy parlor.  Not that Merry ever loved her any less, but Gadget did turn out quite the surprise for both of us.  Didn’t surprise us at all when she turned sixteen and wanted to enlist.  The army takes ‘em as young as that, but only with parents’ permission,” Gearsmith sighed.  “I was sure Merry was gonna kill me when Gadget asked us.  Instead she just smiled sadly, and said she’d let the kid go as long as I went to watch after her and keep her safe.  So we both ended up in the same unit, with the kid as my assistant.”  He blinked, and his ears pinned back suddenly.  “I’m sorry, ma’am.  I didn’t mean to ramble on about my daughter.  That’s not exactly why we’re here, is it?”

“Don’t apologize, I’m having fun,” Emberglow said with a smile.  She had finished her simple exam, and motioned for Gearsmith to get dressed again.  “The whole point of these physicals is to get to know my squad, after all.  I don’t even really have the instruments to do a proper physical.  It’s nice to get to know the ponies I’ll be working with.”

“’Your squad’, eh new girl?” Gearsmith teased.  Emberglow blushed.

“Well, yeah.  Sergeant Arrow did say I'm officially the squad medic,” she said.

“I’m just teasing, Lady Emberglow.  You’ll fit in here just fine,” he said as he finished putting on his uniform.  “Is there anything else you needed?”

“Yeah, uhm, I was wondering about something,” Emberglow asked, thinking that the older, more mature stallion might be the best pony to ask about this particular curiosity.  “I’ve read that some military units engage in, um, mostly harmless bouts of practical jokes, teasing, and harassment, often slightly ritualistic in nature, towards new members.”

“What?” Gearsmith said, confused.  Emberglow could see his mind working, the gears turning as he pieced together what she had said.  “Oh, you mean hazing?”

“Yes, that,” Emberglow said nervously.  “Does your strike squad do hazing?”

“Well, yeah, each military unit does a little.  It’s usually harmless.”

“Even your strike squad?” she pressed.  She’d read a few accounts, both in fiction and nonfiction, of hazing rituals in military units.  While most writers described the activities as mostly harmless, the accounts had sounded disturbingly similar to what she had experienced in the Ivy Seminary.  She tried to keep her voice casual, but something must have slipped, because Gearsmith’s ears perked up as he eyed her sharply.

“Something the matter, Lady Emberglow?” Gearsmith asked.  She said nothing, and the older soldier reached out as if to pat her on the shoulder with one hoof, before hesitating at the last second and lowering it.  “By the Saints, ma'am.  You’re nervous about it happening to you?”  He sighed.  “Don’t be.  We may act casual around Lady Bubblegum, but that’s just how she is.  Our soldiers would never dream of treating you that way.”  He smiled, a little warily.  “Please don’t think me overreaching, Lady Emberglow, but, well…” he hesitated, scratching at the back of his mane with one hoof.  “You’re young.  Really young.  Younger than my daughter.  But ponies are gonna forget that, because you’re a Knight.  I forgot that for a bit myself.  Because of who you are, you’re not going to be treated like other soldiers.”  His smile widened.  “You haven’t heard what the other soldiers were saying in the barracks last night.  We’re an elite combat unit, ma’am, but we lose ponies too.  Still will, probably.  But having you around is one of the best things for morale that’s ever happened.  There’s no way anypony in the squad would mess with you like that.”

“So what, I’m like a mascot?” Emberglow asked, giggling at the horrified look Gearsmith gave her.  “It’s okay, Gearsmith.  I was just nervous about it, that’s all.  It’s hard to be the new girl, you know?  Thanks for making me feel better.”

“Any time, ma’am.  Want me to send in the next pony?” he asked.

“Sure.  And Gearsmith?  I don’t mind being a mascot.  Just don’t expect perfection.”

Maybe Delver and Turquoise had biased her with their descriptions, but Emberglow was not impressed by her first glimpse of Blingshine’s manor.

“This is it?” she deadpanned as the three Knights approached the two-story stucco structure.  Delver nodded patiently, but Turquoise laughed.

“Tell us how you really feel, Emberglow,” she said while giggling.

“I mean, when you said ‘manor’, I assumed something perhaps a bit grander and less garish,” Emberglow explained.  Like the Turtle, the "manor" was only two stories tall, but it was wide and expansive, with huge open windows and a gigantic porch.  The entire mansion was contained within an enclosed grounds, surrounded by a stone wall two ponies tall.  Emberglow could see the leaves of palm trees reaching over the estate walls.  The outer wall was interrupted by a pair of gilded brass gates, needlessly ornate with curving, flowery designs.  Two burly looking guards stood at the gates, eyeing the Knights as they approached.

“If you think the outside is bad…” Turquoise muttered under her breath.  Emberglow glanced at her. Her tone had been full of snark, but her face was a diplomatically blank mask.  She glanced back at the earth pony guards, who were dressed in cheap-looking, polished brass armor and carried sheathed, curved cutlasses.

“Welcome to Blingshine manor, yer honors,” one of the guards slurred.  His partner pulled the gate open for the Knights.  “His governorship is waiting for ya in the garden.  I’ll show ya the way.”

“Thank you, good stallion,” Turquoise said serenely.  They had agreed beforehand that she would do most of the speaking.

Just as Turquoise had said, the inside was even more cheaply flamboyant than the outside.  Emberglow could see garishly colored curtains hanging in each of the manor’s exterior windows, an explosion of clashing hues.  The grounds were immaculately kept, complete with large carved topiaries in the shape of sultry, curvaceous mares in scanty attire.  Emberglow might have been bothered if it weren’t so comically ridiculous.

The guard led the way to an outdoor garden, where a banquet table sat underneath a canvas canopy.  The table was spread with an array of exotic fruits and vegetables, many of which were clearly imported, being not even remotely suitable for the current climate or time of year.  There were baked pastries as well, and even what looked like a pair of fish dishes.  Emberglow knew that some ponies living near large bodies of water sometimes consumed fish, but she caught the scent of the meat and decided that she probably wasn’t going to be one of them.

At the head of the table sat their host, Blingshine.  He was a pegasus, with white fur and a golden mane.  His clothing was much like his property: a garish, overly decorative silk eyesore comprised of clashing colors.  Each limb was bedecked with gold and silver bands; even his wings were decorated with wing bands, chains, and jeweled adornments.  When he stood and smiled at his guests, Emberglow counted at least four false golden teeth.  To Emberglow, it all felt so needless, as if Blingshine felt the need to loudly announce to everypony around him just how wealthy he was, in the most vulgar way possible.

Blingshine wasn’t the only pony at the table; flanking him on either side of his chair were a pair of mares dressed in a sad imitation of Blingshine’s topiaries.  Their flushed faces were caked with makeup, and their eyes were a bit glazed over. Emberglow saw a mostly empty bottle of wine sitting next to Blingshine’s spot, which explained the flushed faces and drunken giggles that bubbled out of the two floozies.

Emberglow did her best to steel her expression at the disgust she felt.  She looked at Blingshine, noting his sharp gaze and knowing smile.

“Welcome to my manor, honored Knights,” he almost bellowed, his bombastic voice filling the space under the canopy.  “Lady Emberglow, what a pleasure to meet you.  Your compatriots have told me so much about you, but their words do not do justice to your beauty.”  He held out a hoof to her.

Emberglow tried not to scowl at the ‘compliment’. It took one glance at Blingshine’s companions to realize just what the pirate governor’s standards of beauty were.  She fixed a plastic smile on her face and reached out to shake his hoof, but had to bite back her surprise when instead of shaking, he leaned down to kiss her hoof, maintaining eye contact the entire time.  The action was surprisingly gentle, though she still shuddered at the touch of his lips on her hoof.  There was a glint in his eyes that let her know he hadn’t missed her reaction.

“Thank you, governor,” she managed politely, extracting her hoof from his as soon as she could without offering insult.

“Please, sit and eat.  Help yourselves to whatever you like.  If there’s something you’d like but you don’t see, let me know and I’ll see if I’ve got any in the larder.”  He laughed as if he’d made some great joke, and his floozies giggled sycophantically.

“We are grateful for the meal you’ve provided, Governor Blingshine,” Turquoise said smoothly.  “Please allow us to say a blessing over the food before we begin.”  He motioned for her to continue, with only a brief flash of annoyance crossing his expression.

Emberglow half expected the sometimes volatile Turquoise to use the opportunity to needle Blingshine, but she merely said a simple, heartfelt prayer over the food before the three Knights took their seats.  The three locals looked uncomfortable, but stayed silent until everypony was seated.

“So!” Blingshine called loudly as Emberglow eyed the garish feast before her, wondering how much she needed to eat to be polite.  “Tell me about our newest Knight.”

“I’m not all that interesting.” Emberglow kept her voice even and polite, just like Turquoise had suggested.  “I only took my vows a month ago. I’ve spent the last few weeks in seclusion and prayer, contemplating my future and pondering on the Book of the Saints.”  Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Turquoise smirk in approval.  Emberglow carefully selected some fruits and greens and made herself a simple salad; even if the richer fare was being offered for free, Emberglow still felt uncomfortable taking full advantage of the pirate’s feast.

“That sounds… enlightening.” Blingshine picked up a silver goblet and took a sip of his wine.  “Here, let me pour you some of this vintage.  It’s an absolutely delightful red, and perfectly sweet.”

“Oh, thank you, but could I have water instead?” Emberglow asked blandly.  “Drunkenness is a sin, after all.”  The two simpering mares shuffled uncomfortably, glancing at their own goblets.  Emberglow heard a sound coming from Turquoise that sounded suspiciously like a snort of amusement.

Inwardly, Emberglow was pleased.  Turquoise had suggested that one way of dealing with Blingshine was to be as vague and boring as possible.  A stallion that had so clearly dedicated his life to sin would be utterly uninterested in hearing about her four weeks of prayer, meditation, and solitary study.  So of course she’d find a way to work it into every bit of conversation she could.

“Of course,” Blingshine answered smoothly.  He reached over to a separate carafe and filled her goblet with water.  “The same for the two of you?”

“Yes, please,” Turquoise chimed in cheerfully.  Delver also nodded.  Blingshine plastered on an insincere smile as he filled their goblets, though his attention was mostly on Emberglow.

“You’ll enjoy this, I’m sure,” he said.  “Now, enjoy the feast!”

As the ponies ate, the conversation turned superficial.  Blingshine and the two older Knights exchanged meaningless pleasantries, while Emberglow and Blingshine’s companions listened silently.  Blingshine frequently made conversation with a mouthful of food, and a not insignificant percentage of his wine often spilled onto his shirt or chest.  Emberglow found herself wondering, with no small amount of disgust, how a stallion with such hideous table manners as Blingshine had managed to catch the eye of two mares, clearly many years younger than himself.  She’d read once that some ponies found power attractive, though  it made no sense to her.

Still, while the company was less than ideal, at least the food was appetizing.  Emberglow found herself enjoying her salad despite herself; the greens were fresh, and paired nicely with the crumbly cheese, ripe strawberries, and candied walnuts she mixed on her plate.

“You’ve been quite silent, Lady Emberglow.  Please, I’d love to know more about our newest Knight.”

The possessive phrasing irked her, though Emberglow imagined that was deliberate.  “What would you like to know?” she asked, then cringed inwardly.  She shouldn’t have given him such a broad opening.

“I’d love to know about your background.  What family did you come from?”  There was a small, slightly victorious grin on his muzzle.  Emberglow noted the odd wording of the question; he was clearly assuming she came from some noble family.

“My parents are tailors,” she told him, hoping it would be bland enough to bore him.  Instead his grin became almost vulpine.

“So you’re a sponsorship, then?  A mare of rare talent and luck.  You must be quite exceptional.”

“Not really,” Emberglow said humbly, for once not acting.  “I got where I am because of hard work and hours of study.  If you’re interested in self-improvement, I’d be happy to share my study techniques with you.”

Turquoise suddenly choked loudly, forcing Delver to pound her on the back a few times.  With an embarrassed look, she took a drink of water.  “Sorry,” she rasped.  “Choked on a piece of fruit.”  Emberglow knew her mentor well enough to know she was holding back laughter.  “What do you say, governor?  Interested in learning all about Emberglow’s study techniques?  She’s an apt teacher.”

“Well, I…” Blingshine sat back, an expression of discomfort clear on his face.  “Perhaps if…”

“Oh, I’d really enjoy that,” Emberglow decided to poke just a bit.  “We could use the Book of the Saints as a text, or perhaps Stoic Abstinence’s Meditations on Self-Denial.”

“We’ll have to see,” Blingshine muttered, clearly dismayed at the idea of reading any sort of book written by a pony named Stoic Abstinence.  “It sounds delightful, but really my schedule as governor is quite busy.  And you all will be leaving soon to keep us safe from pirates, after all.”

Emberglow, surprisingly, felt a guilty sort of pleasure from needling the stallion, but she didn’t want to push too hard.  So she simply nodded graciously and returned to her meal in silence.

It seemed, after that exchange, that Blingshine was discouraged enough by her behaviour that he gave up on prodding Emberglow for more information about herself.  He kept the conversation to business after that, focusing his attention more on Delver and Turquoise.  Emberglow, on the other hand, was perfectly fine to fade into the background and wait for the uncomfortable luncheon to end.  

When it was finally time to go, the Knights politely excused themselves for other business.  She felt no small sense of relief when the three of them walked out of the manor and back into the street.  They were barely out of earshot when Turquoise began giggling.

“Stoic Abstinence?” she managed through her laughter.  “You made that up.”

“I didn’t!” Emberglow protested with a smirk.  “He was a real author.  A Knight Adamant philosopher and strategist from about a century after the Siege of Manehatten.”

“Of course you would have read a book like that,” Turquoise teased, and Emberglow mock-scowled at her.

“I’m not that boring.  I’m just familiar with the title, is all.  I figured it would make him uncomfortable.”

“You’re going to want to be careful with that tactic,” Delver warned, seriously.  “Blingshine is a proud stallion.  If he realizes you’re toying with him, we’ll have problems.”

“Did I go too far?” Emberglow was suddenly nervous.

“No, you were perfect.”  Turquoise reassured her with a pat on the back.  “With any luck, our fine governor has now been scared off of any further luncheons or meddling in our business.”

“That’s a relief,” Emberglow nodded.  “So what comes next?”

“Next, we introduce you to our ship’s captain,” Delver said.  “I promise you’ll enjoy this meeting quite a bit more.”

The actual port part of Port Luminescence was much more than Emberglow had expected as she and the other Knights approached.  The airship port had been small, a mere molehill next to the mountain that was New Canterlot City’s.  The sea port, however, was a veritable forest of masts, draped with rigging rather than vines, and canvas rather than leaves.  Most of the ships were small, single-mast fishing and short range merchant vessels.  There were a few two- and three-mast ships, though, some of which had cannons on deck.  A dozen piers jutted out into the calm ocean waters of the bay, a natural geographic feature created by a long arm of a rocky peninsula jutting out into the ocean.  A single, short lighthouse perched on the tip of the peninsula.  Emberglow could see a dozen ships in motion, coming into or out of the port.

“Do you see that triple masted vessel flying the Diarchy flag?” Turquoise pointed.  “She’s the Lady Elegant.”

The Lady Elegant lived up to her name.  She was clearly a noble lady, with smooth, graceful lines, three tall masts, and portholes in the sides that concealed the presence of six heavy guns.  Two pegasi dressed in naval uniforms flitted about the rigging, adjusting lines and checking knots.  The three Knights stepped onto the deck to find the captain.

When he noticed the Knights aboard his ship, one of the pegasi working in the rigging flew down, landing in front of the Knights.    He was a light stormy grey, with a muted blue mane.  He wore the Diarchy naval uniform, blue and gold, with captain’s epaulets on each shoulder.  “Good afternoon, Sir Delver.”  He reached out and shook Delver’s hoof in greeting.  “How was lunch?”  There was a twist in his voice that suggested he knew exactly where the Knights had had their meal.

“A travesty, Captain Stratus.  Meet our new Knight.  This is Lady Emberglow.”

Emberglow was rather surprised that the captain had been personally checking the ship’s rigging.  The fact that the ship’s captain took such an interest in the minute details of his ship somehow felt gratifying to her, like a master craftsman taking loving care of his tools.  It reminded her of her parents, and the care they took in their shop.

“Welcome, Lady Emberglow.  Let me show you aboard the ship.”  He swept his wing wide to beckon them to follow him.

Though it was being used to hunt pirates for this mission, the Lady Elegant was clearly a cargo vessel.  Oversized earth pony stallions were lifting dozens of crates on board.  Six guns would have been a bit excessive for a cargo vessel, but they were as hidden as they could be. It was a finely drawn balance; the ship had to look attractive enough to be a target for pirates, but dangerous enough so that any approaching buccaneers would not be suspicious of a trap.  The number of cannons didn’t really matter; the true military force on board the ship would be the Knights themselves.

The wooden door underneath the poop deck led to the quarters of the Captain and the Knights.  Space was limited, so even though their quarters were nicer than the sailors’, they would still have to share.  Emberglow was less than thrilled when she realized she would be sharing with Bubblegum.  The sympathetic look that Turquoise gave her said that maybe she hadn’t quite hidden her distaste well enough.  The quarters contained a porthole window, a bunk bed bolted to the wall, and a wardrobe, albeit a small one.  There was also a tiny writing desk and a three-legged stool.

After a quick tour of the decks, the captain showed the Knights to his private dining room, where they met and discussed the plans for their voyage.  There was a table large enough to seat six ponies.  On the starboard side of the Captain’s dining room was a small shrine, consisting of an altar with three pillar candles and an unpainted bass relief of Saint Rarity’s cutie mark.  

“Is this because of the ship’s name?” Emberglow asked the captain, pleased.

“It’s the other way around, actually.  I had a say in her name when they gave me the ship.  I’m one of the Seamstress’ Orphans, Lady Emberglow.  Saint Rarity holds a special place in my heart.”  That was interesting.  Emberglow grinned widely.  

On the table in the Captain’s dining room was an array of sea charts, maps, and other various paperwork.  The three Knights and Captain Stratus sat around the table to discuss the planned voyage.

The round trip could take as long as two months, depending on the weather.  They would set sail from the port, ostensibly carrying a cargo of weapons and armor for the Diarchy forces fighting against zebra guerillas in Zebrica.  Their actual mission, though, was more clandestine. Knight Command had known for months that the dread ‘Black-and-White Beard’ pirate had a source of information inside the military.  Thus, they would treat the voyage like a regular supply run, in an attempt to lure the pirate into attacking them.  If he didn’t make an appearance, they would try again.  Since Black-and-White Beard had hit five ships in the last six months, though, there was a decent likelihood he would attack, especially given the value of their cargo.

Emberglow was glad she hadn’t unpacked her brand new armor, as all four of the Knights would have their armor and weapons hidden aboard Lady Elegant.  Captain Stratus even supplied some civilian clothing and navy uniforms for the Knights to wear until they cast off from Port Luminescence, to further the illusion that this was a standard supply run.  

“Are you nervous about learning to swim?” Turquoise asked as the four Knights trotted to the next item on the schedule: swimming lessons.

“Um, maybe a little?” Emberglow confessed.  They made their way to a spot on the south end of the bay, set aside for public swimming.  It was already teeming with ponies in swimsuits.  Emberglow tried not to gape at the sheer volume of exposed fur around her.  Ponies pranced about wearing just barely enough to not violate public indecency laws.

“Don’t worry, it’s easy,” Bubblegum chipped in eagerly.  “I picked you out a swimsuit, too.”  For some reason, that statement made her quite a bit more nervous than the actual swimming.  “C’mon, there’s changing rooms over here.”  She led Emberglow over to a squat wooden building, shoving a bag into her hooves before leaving her to change in private.

With a great deal of trepidation, Emberglow opened the bag to reveal a modest, one piece navy blue bathing suit.  She couldn’t help but breathe a sigh of relief.  When she stepped outside the changing room, however, she felt that she might have been right to be nervous; while her suit was conservative, the frilly black two-piece that Bubblegum was prancing about in was just as scandalous as what the locals were wearing.

“Ready to get wet?” Bubblegum asked with a waggle of her eyebrows.  Emberglow merely stared at her, silently, while the other mare grinned irrepressibly.  “C’mon, we’ll jump off the pier,” she said, galloping to the end of the wooden structure.  Emberglow looked out at the waves.  They were small, only two or so feet high, due to the peninsula that protected the port.  To the left of the pier were a few ponies frolicking and goofing around in the shallow water.  There were even some of the bestial races; Port Luminescence had a small population of griffons, zebras, and even a few odd minotaurs.  The deeper waters near the end of the pier, where the Knights were headed, were mostly empty of other creatures.  As Emberglow and the two other Knights walked to the end at a slightly more sedate pace, Delver described as best he could with words the physical motions of swimming.

“The movement comes fairly naturally,” he explained.  “There’s not much to learn.  Being familiar with the motions and with the feel of water will be helpful for you if you ever find yourself accidentally overboard.  Also, do you know any water breathing spells?”

“Of course,” Emberglow answered.  Spellwork and runes were something she excelled at, thanks to hard work, study, and a slightly obsessive personality when it came to her own education and self-improvement.  

“I’d advise you to cast it on yourself as soon as we engage in naval combat,” Delver said.  “If you are wearing full armor, you’ll sink.”

They joined Bubblegum at the end of the pier.  All four Knights lined up, looking out into the ocean.

“So, how do we begin?” Emberglow asked, looking at the two senior Knights.

“Step to the edge of the pier, and look out towards the horizon,” Turquoise said.  She had an odd sort of smirk on her face, but Emberglow thought nothing of it as she did as she was told.  As soon as she felt hooves on her flank, however, she realized two things:

First, she should have suspected the mischievous smirk.

Second, even though the marines might be too in awe of her position as a Knight and a magical healer to engage in hazing, that didn’t mean her fellow Knights would feel the same way.  In fact, it was highly likely they didn’t.

“Surprise!” Bubblegum cheered as she shoved Emberglow over the edge of the pier into the water.  She managed to twist herself in an attempt to dodge the attack, but only managed to flip her body sideways so she entered the water on her side, rather than muzzle first.  

The water was warmer than she expected, though Emberglow wasn’t able to appreciate her first physical contact with the ocean.  She gave out a squeak of shock before clenching her muzzle shut.  Salt from the ocean stung in her nostrils and eyes, and her limbs flailed around in the water for a second or two before she was able to right herself and breach her face above the water.  The first thing she heard was giggling.

Delver was correct; the motion of her hooves paddling through the water was clumsy and a bit panicked, but came naturally.  She was able to stay afloat long enough to clear the saltwater from her eyes and glare up at her tormenters.  She shook her head, her ears pinned back in annoyance as she gave what she hoped was a death glare at Bubblegum.

The youngest of her compatriots had fallen back on her plot, giggling behind a hoof.  Delver was grinning at her as well, and even Turquoise managed to look both amused and guilty at the same time.

“You look like a drowned pink mouse,” Bubblegum said.  “But you’re treading water just fine.  It’s easy, right?”

“I would have liked some warning,” Emberglow groused back.

“Sorry,” Delver said, sounding nothing of the sort.  “It’s kind of become a tradition.  I shoved Bubblegum in when she first got here, years ago.  A month back when Turquoise arrived we did the same thing before she started her lessons.  If we ever get a new pony, you can be the one to shove them in.”

“Thanks, but I’ll pass,” Emberglow said grumpily.  Delver shrugged, and Bubblegum cheered.

“That means I get to go again!” she said cheerfully, before stepping back a few paces.  “Watch out!”

The youthful Knight Adamant took off at a gallop, launching herself into the air over Emberglow’s head, who gasped and ducked down as the earth pony passed overhead.  She gracefully rolled into a ball in midair, spinning head over tail until she was face-first towards the water.  Her dive barely made a splash.

“We’re coming in too,” Turquoise warned, before the other two jumped in as well.  Emberglow watched their motions carefully; Delver looked at home in the water, just like his sister Knight, but Turquoise was clearly more cautious and less experienced.  They treaded water until Bubblegum swam over after her acrobatic dive.

Despite the somewhat unexpected start, the swimming lesson turned out to be a lot of fun.  There turned out to be some complications with her wings, though; the sensation of floating in water was oddly similar to being in midair, and Emberglow instinctively wanted to spread her wings and use them to power her through the water.  Wet, waterlogged wings were useless in both air and water, however, so she had to force herself to keep her feathery appendages tight against her barrel.  The other three were earth ponies, so they had been little help on the subject of wings when she'd asked.  Instead, they drilled her in swimming techniques, and taught her how to dive and how to do the ‘dead pony’ float.  Bubblegum even apologized for the shove (miraculously sounding halfway sincere about it) and gave her some practical pointers about fighting in and under the water.  Granted, if there was combat underwater things would have probably already gone catastrophically wrong, but it didn’t hurt to be prepared for the possibility.

They swam laps.  They dove.  There were some underwater sparring lessons, and a few impromptu splash fights instigated by Bubblegum.  The lesson lasted an hour and a half, and Emberglow felt both exhausted and accomplished at the end of it.  

When swimming practice was over, Bubblegum cheerfully volunteered to go collect everypony’s towels.  She vaulted herself up gracefully onto the pier before shaking her wet fur like a dog to shed as much water as possible.  She even stuck her tongue out for effect and then dashed off for the changing rooms, where Emberglow assumed she had left some towels.

There was a shower next to the changing room, which allowed all the ponies to rinse the salt water off their fur.  After they were rinsed and dressed, Delver addressed the Knights.

“We’ll meet for swimming practice every morning before lunch until departure.  After lunch, we’ll work on some sparring and group tactics.  Some of us have never fought as a group before, and I’d like a better idea of our strengths and weaknesses.  For now, though, there is no business or orders until tomorrow.  You all have free time until then.”  Bubblegum squeed, clapping two hooves together before darting off with her usual energy.  Delver sighed, shaking his head.  “I think she has a date with her husband.  Do you two have plans?”

“A half-dozen letters to write home,” Turquoise answered.

“Um…” Emberglow said lamely.  “I suppose I could read.”

“If you like, you can have one of the marines show you around the Port.  I’m sure Sergeant Arrow has given them liberty for the evening as well.  There’s plenty to do in town.  I only ask that you dress as a civilian.  I’d like to keep a bit of a low profile in town when possible.”

Emberglow thought about it for a moment.  It was dangerous, but she was certain of her own self-control.  She nodded.

“That sounds good.  I’ll go see if somepony is available,” Emberglow said.  She already knew which somepony she wanted to take.  The three of them headed back to The Turtle to get changed.

True to his word, Captain Stratus had sent several civilian outfits to The Turtle for the Knights to choose from.  Emberglow found several blouses and skirts in the closet of her room, loose and light like the clothing she’d seen on several other mares throughout town.  

It was odd to consider wearing something other than her robes, but she picked out a crimson blouse, complete with puffy sleeves, and a long black skirt to go with it.  Emberglow was no fashion expert, but she liked to think that she looked good in the ensemble.  She didn’t know much about makeup, but most of the mares she’d seen in the Port had been wearing something, so she went into the washroom near her bedroom.  Fortunately the Captain had also supplied a simple makeup kit.  It took longer than she was pleased to admit, but Emberglow was finally able to apply a light eyeshadow and eyeliner, just enough to show she had made an effort.  On the way out, she ran into Turquoise, who was appropriately shocked.

“Emberglow, is that you?” the Knight Jubilant exclaimed dramatically, teasing the younger mare with a grin.  “I can’t believe I’ve never seen you in normal clothes.  You look good.  Any idea what you’re going to do tonight?”

“Nope,” Emberglow said honestly.  “I was going to take Delver’s advice and see if any of the marines are available to show me what to do for fun in this town.”

“Mostly all the marines do is bar hop,” Turquoise said, sounding bored.  Emberglow grinned.  Though she never had seen the appeal of drunkenness, at least the Radiant didn’t swear an oath of sobriety like the Jubilant did.

“That would be fine.  Though I did want to see if they had a library,” she said.  Turquoise snorted with amusement.

“A library?  Are you sure you’re not secretly a Mystic?  I remember how much time you spent in their library,” Turquoise teased.  “Besides, I’d be nervous to see what a library in a pirate town looked like.”

“You’re probably right,” Emberglow said.  “Still, I’d like to see.”

“You be careful, okay?  This place isn’t like New Canterlot City.  Law and order are more… well, ideals than actual law and order.”

“I’ll make sure to wrangle a marine or two to come with me, don’t worry,” she said, before reaching out with her hooves to hug her mentor.  “You have fun with your letters.”

By herself, Emberglow made her way to the walled compound that contained the barracks.  While she hadn’t felt apprehensive at all on her other trips through Port Luminescence, there was something subtly different when she was by herself.  The town was full of sailors and pirates of all races.  Most ponies ignored her, but it was hard to not notice the interested looks she was drawing from some of the stallions.

Objectively, Emberglow knew she was attractive.  The debacle with Lofty Tale, before they had mended their friendship, was proof of that.  But seeing the looks on the stallions that passed her by made her fur crawl.  Nopony said anything to her, but that didn’t stop the sensation of their gazes drooling across her figure.  She yearned for the comfort of her robes.

Finally she reached the military compound.  The guards outside moved to challenge her as soon as she approached.

“Halt… er… oh, it’s you, Lady Emberglow,” one of the guards said, sliding his spear from a challenge to a resting position.  “Sorry, we didn’t expect to see you dressed in civilian clothing.  Go on in.”

“Do you know if the marines are on liberty tonight?” Emberglow asked.

“Yes, ma’am.  Most of them are out… uh…”

“Drinking?”

“Yes, ma’am,” the guard replied nervously.

“Do you know where I can find Corporal Gearsmith?  Or Private Gadget?” she asked.

“Gearsmith has a dive bar he likes to frequent when he’s in town.  I can tell you the address if you like,” the guard said.  He sounded reluctant to send Emberglow to a pirate town dive bar.  “Gadget is in her workshop.  Let me give you directions.”

Gadget’s workshop was in the basement of the building that housed Emberglow’s office.  Some clever pony had painted a sign on the door that read ‘Welcome to Engineering.  If you touch the tools without permission, you will be shot with extreme prejudice’.  The sign also contained a cartoonish painting of two cheerfully smiling light blue earth ponies, a stallion with black hair and a mare with blonde.  The door was slightly ajar, and the sounds of a hammer on metal echoed from the crack.  Emberglow reached up and knocked on the door, which shook slightly under the force of her hoof.

“Come in, but it better be good!  I’ve just about figured out how to…” the speech stopped as Emberglow pushed the door open and stepped into the workshop.

She had expected organized chaos, the cliché for brilliant engineers.  That was far from the truth, however.  Tools were not in jumbled piles about the room, but instead hung from carefully labeled hooks, dozens of them, bolted into the walls.  There were four worktables, one on each long wall and a short one to the right of the door.  Each one had a table covering made of paper, with a roll of paper bolted next to the table.  Gadget had rolled the paper over the table and used the surface to label each device, each piece of hardware, and each component that was laid out on the various tables.  Everything had an outline on the paper drawn in black marker.  The tables were covered but not cluttered.  Emberglow was utterly fascinated by the hundreds of tiny screws, gears, and mechanisms labeled on the table, though she couldn’t even begin to say what each one was.

Gadget herself sat in a stool, a well-loved padded one with a lever on the side that adjusted the height, and four rolling wheels on the bottom that provided mobility.  She wore a pair of dark goggles that rested uselessly on her forehead, just above her eyes, and a thick apron over her uniform.  She turned to see who was entering, levering off of the desk she sat in front of with one rear hoof, turning by twisting the stool rather than her torso.  She was obviously not expecting to see Emberglow, because she let out a yelp of surprise, nearly falling off her stool as she spun.

“Oh, uh, hi.  Sorry.  Um,” she stood up, brushing metal shavings off of the apron she wore and fidgeting with her goggles for a second before she could gather herself.  “Can I help you, Lady Emberglow?”

“I hope so,” Emberglow said, smiling.  “Sir Delver gave us Knights the night off.  I was hoping there was somepony that could show me what ponies do for fun in this town.”

“Me?” Gadget asked, surprised.  Emberglow nearly laughed.

“If you’re interested,” she replied.  Gadget finally smiled back.

“No offense, but I don’t think you’re ready for this town’s kind of fun, Lady Emberglow,” the marine said.  “I’m sure we could find something that could cater to your fancy, capital city high society tastes, though.”  Emberglow snorted.

“Aren’t you from the capital as well?” Emberglow asked.  Gadget waved a hoof dismissively.

“Doesn’t count.  My hometown is the military, now,” she said.  “So.  Fun, but a safe for Knights fun.  That’s a conundrum.”

“Really?” Emberglow asked, aware she was being teased, but far too amused by the charming mare to be upset about it.  “The only things interesting to do in this town are borderline sinful?”

“Of course not,” Gadget said, seriously.  “Do you drink?”  She stood from her stool, and removed her goggles and apron.  She hung both items from empty hooks on the wall, each one labeled.

“Not much,” Emberglow said honestly.  “I’ve never really seen the appeal in getting drunk.”

“Me neither, but a nice buzz is okay,” Gadget said.  “C’mon.  I know a place you might like.  Do you enjoy music?”

“I think so?” Emberglow answered, and Gadget grinned.  She didn’t take much time to get ready, though she did remove her apron and goggles.  Emberglow didn’t mind; she did have to frantically distract herself when she caught herself thinking about how good the other mare looked in the military’s blue and gold.  With her mind firmly planted on mentally reciting some of her favorite scriptures from the Book of the Saints, (Chapter 6, Verses 12-13: Obey your betters with exactness, for the Saints will not allow them to lead you astray.  If you follow faithfully, you are blameless of their imperfections) she followed after the earth pony to a wood and stucco structure with the brassy sounds of lively music spilling out of the open door and windows.  The music was unfamiliar, up tempo and jazzy, with a soft, pulsing percussion line.  A lit sign over the door named it ‘Live Note’.

The building was a happy medium between shabby and well-kept, which was part of its charm.  The two mares stepped inside.  The first thing Emberglow saw was a stage, the most well-lit part of the bar.  Two earth ponies and a griffon, of all things, stood on stage.  One pony was playing an upright bass, not with a bow but with his hooves, slapping at the strings in a way that created a percussive foundation for the music.  The other earth pony sat on a stool as he played a saxophone.  The griffon sat behind a set of drums, playing his instruments with brushes rather than drumsticks.

The rest of the bar was only under muted light except for the bar, drawing the focus of the patrons onto the stage.  There was mostly ponies in the half full bar, but three griffon hens sat at a table by themselves, sending gazes that could either be predatory or lustful at the drummer on stage.

“C’mon.  Let’s sit at the bar,” Gadget said.  The bartender was a large earth pony, grey and a little shaggy, with a huge beard and moustache.  The two mares sat down on the barstools, and the bartender moved over.

“Evening, Private,” he said.  “How many drinks tonight?”

“Two for me, two for my friend,” Gadget replied.  “A Perfect Pear for me to start, and what would you like to drink?”

“Uh…” Emberglow stared at her friend.  “I have no idea.  I told you I don’t drink much.  You pick.”

“Two Perfect Pears, then,” Gadget said.  She paid the bartender enough bits for four drinks, and the shaggy grey earth pony hustled off to start dusting a pair of coupe glasses with sugar.  Emberglow watched, fascinated.

“You pay for your drinks beforehand?” she asked, curious.  Gadget nodded.

“Yeah.  I told you I don’t like getting drunk, so I have an arrangement with the bartender.  I plan out exactly how many drinks I’m going to have, pay for them all in advance, and instruct the bartender not to sell me any drinks after that.  He also makes sure I drink some water in between each drink, to reduce the risk of hangover.”

“That’s… really sensible and medically sound.” Emberglow was impressed.  “I like it.  So what did I order?”

“Perfect Pear.  One of my favorite drinks.  Pretty sweet and sugary, so I hope you like that.” Gadget said, and Emberglow nodded.  Sweet was fine.  

She watched the bartender squeeze a lemon and an orange into a shaker, added some syrup and some liquid from a bottle labeled 'pear brandy', and then shook it all with some ice.  He poured the liquid into the glasses, sugar sparkling on the rim, before sliding the two stemmed glasses over to the mares.  Emberglow reached out to pick up the glass by the stem, surprised to find that the glass itself was chilled.  She lifted the cocktail to her lips and sipped.  Immediately her tongue came alive with the sugar on the rim, followed by the sweet acidity of the juice and the alcoholic burn of the brandy.  She liked it.

“What do you think?” Gadget asked, sipping on her own cocktail.  Emberglow grinned and nodded, trying not to cough as the burn hit her throat.  Gadget noticed, and giggled.  “Glad you like it.”

The two ponies went silent and listened to the music.  This was a very different experience than listening to the tinny sounds of jazz coming from the speakers of a radio.  Emberglow didn’t have much experience with this kind of music, or any music, for that matter.  There was something raw and unpolished about the playing going on up on stage, and Emberglow didn’t see any sheet music.  She’d heard that most jazz was improvised.  The whole idea was fascinating to her; how could you possibly play music that you’re making up on the spot?  And have it harmonize so well with other musicians?  It was like magic.  No, not like magic.  It was magic, just a different kind than she was used to.  She sipped at her drink while the music filled her ears and her soul.  Gadget looked relaxed and peaceful as well, and though she was faced away from the stage towards the bar, her ears were twisted back towards the music.

“It’s a little surprising to me that you’re a jazz mare,” Emberglow said softly after a few minutes.  Gadget smirked.  “Somepony as detail-oriented and technically minded as you?  I thought you’d be a classical music person.”  It was what Emberglow herself enjoyed.  Classical music was logical.  It was analytical.  It was math and science, translated into pitch, rhythm, and melody.

“I do enjoy big orchestra music sometimes,” Gadget asked.  “There’s just something so wonderful about live music for me.  We’re experiencing not a recording, but a moment in time that will never happen again.  That’s incredible to me.”

“This is what you do for fun, then?” Emberglow asked.

“Sometimes,” Gadget said.  “Sometimes I just fix things, do gun maintenance and upgrades, that sort of thing.  That’s my special talent, after all.”  Emberglow was going to ask about the mare’s cutie mark, but that felt a little too intimate… 

Suddenly, the entire situation felt too intimate.  The bar, the lighting, the warm glow of the alcohol as it slid through her veins, the closeness of the other mare, the endearing messiness of her mane, the cute little flush she had as the alcohol took effect, all made Emberglow uncomfortable.  Was this a date?  Her stomach clenched with fear.

No.

Not a date.

“You okay?” Gadget asked, her hoof on Emberglow’s shoulder.  The sudden contact made Emberglow jerk away, breathing hard.  Her ears twitched nervously, though the sudden hurt she saw on Gadget’s face brought her up short.

“Um, yeah.  Yeah, I am.  Sorry,” Emberglow said.  Gadget’s expression was skeptical, her look pleading for more explanation.  Emberglow shook her head, breathing deeply as her mind sloshed through the swamp of guilt and shame.  What had she been thinking?  What should she do?  Should she leave, and risk insulting her new friend?  What was it about this mare that made her feel like she had no control?

“Do you need to go?” Gadget asked, reaching out with a hoof again but stopping just before contact.  Did she?  She probably should.  She should just tell Gadget why, too.  The other mare would surely understand.

“No.  No, I’ll be fine,” she lied.  Gadget looked worried, but she nodded.

“Do you wanna talk about it?” she asked.  No, she did not want to talk about it.  Not a chance.  She took another deep, calming breath, burying it all as deep as she could.  She hid it behind her drink, sipping at the fruity, citrusy concoction.  Her ears slid back as she shook her head.  

“No.  I’m sorry.  Just forget it, okay?” she said softly.  Gadget shrugged, looking away, and Emberglow felt like she’d been hit in the gut.  But this was better, right?  Create some distance?  It hurt, though, when she looked at the profile of the mare next to her, turned slightly away, Gadget’s eyes distant and focused away from her, on stage.  The earth pony’s body language was a little chilly.  Emberglow sighed, and reached out with her own hoof to gently rest on the other mare’s shoulder.  Gadget turned to look at her, her expression unreadable.

“Look, I’ve got some drama going on in my head, but it’s nothing to do with you, okay?  It’s not your fault, and I don’t want you feeling bad because of anything I’ve got going on in my own head.  You’ve been a good friend, taking me out tonight like this, and I really appreciate it,” she said.  Gadget nodded, looking mollified, and both mares turned back to listen to the music in silence, the former coolness somewhat evaporated.

Soon enough their drinks were finished, and as Gadget had promised, the bartender brought them both a glass of cool water.  The band on stage rotated out from a trio to a quartet, this time with two saxophones, a trumpet, and a drummer.

“There’s a few different bands that play here,” Gadget commented idly, breaking the silence that had built up between them.  Her voice had just the slightest hint of coolness. “The owner always makes sure the music is live, which sometimes means the quality slips.  But that’s okay.”  Emberglow thought about it, and decided she was right.  The new band began playing, and they perhaps weren’t as good, or as polished, as the trio that had come before them, but it didn’t matter.  The music became a part of the character of the place, as much a part of the atmosphere as the oxygen she was breathing, and the smells of alcohol and ponies. 

Soon after the second band started, a group of six rowdy earth ponies, dressed in civilian sailor attire, tumbled off the street into the bar, radiating the scent of cheap booze and seawater.  The bartender gave them a sour look, but said nothing as he sent a waiter to their table to take their drink orders.  Emberglow tried to tune them out as she listened to the music.   A moment later, however, the same waiter approached Emberglow and Gadget.

“Excuse me, ladies.  The ‘gentlestallions’ over at that table have offered to buy the both of you drinks, and would like to invite you to join them,” the waiter said, rolling his eyes. Emberglow could practically see the air quotes as he spoke.  

“Wow.  Really?” Gadget giggled.  She looked past the waiter to the drunken sailors, who leered at the two mares and motioned with their hooves for them to come over.  One was even brave enough to call out.

“C’mon, soldier girl!  Don’t you like to party?” he called out.  Gadget shook her head, and Emberglow snorted.

“Do you think it bothers them that they’ve become a walking literary cliché?” Emberglow asked her friend, and Gadget laughed.  “I mean, the whole drunk sailor hitting on cute mares thing.  It’s so silly.”

“Yeah, but let them down easy, okay?” Gadget said to the waiter.  “No sense insulting the idiots, even if a hoof to the face could do them some good.”

“Will do, ma’am,” the waiter said with a small professional smile.  “If they get much rowdier, or won’t take no for an answer, we’ll see them out.”

“I know.  That’s why I like this bar,” Gadget said as the waiter moved off to politely refuse the offer of drinks.  The sailors protested loudly, but didn’t say anything else to the mares, though Emberglow heard some suspicious invectives that rhymed with ‘stitch’ and ‘punt’. 

 It was easy enough to ignore, however, especially when the bartender came to ask for their second drink order.  Gadget asked for the same drink with a shrug and a smile, and Emberglow asked for the bartender’s recommendation.  The shaggy earth pony grinned and trotted away; apparently that had been the right thing to ask.  She watched, interested, as he pulled out a hammered brass mug, added some ice, and poured a shot glass full of clear alcohol over the ice.  He then popped open a bottle of something carbonated, mixed it with the ice and alcohol, and garnished the whole thing with a lime wedge.

“This is called a Stalliongrad Mule,” he told her.  “What do you think?”

Emberglow sipped the cold drink carefully.  it was sweet, and she could just taste the alcohol over the flavors of lime and ginger.  Her eyes went wide when she felt the spice hit the back of her throat.

“It’s spicy!” she exclaimed out loud.  Gadget smiled in amusement.

“Too much?” the bartender asked.

“No, I like it.”  Emberglow went back for another sip, enjoying the play of the sweet, tart, and spicy flavors, all carried on the bubbly carbonation of the drink.  She shared a smile with Gadget.  “I think you might have another regular customer.”  The bartender smirked as he went to take care of his other customers.

The two mares relaxed into a comfortably superficial conversation as they felt the glow of the alcohol fill them.  Emberglow asked Gadget about her work, and about the other adventures she’d had hunting pirates around the Port.  The earlier awkwardness was casting the slightest chill over their evening, and Emberglow found herself mourning the distance that now grew between them, even while feeling relieved at the safety.

The hour disappeared before either one of them knew it, and both their second drink and their second glass of cool water had disappeared in no time.  Even the drunk pirates had left finally, with a few scornful looks at the two mares.  Emberglow and Gadget were preparing to leave, saying their goodbyes and leaving an extra tip for the bartender when a soft voice interrupted them from behind.  

“I am sorry to bother you ponies,” the lightly accented voice said, and the two of them turned to see the same griffon who had been playing the drums in the first band.  Emberglow eyed him suspiciously.  “I wished to pass on a warning.  After my set on stage, I joined the audience.  I’m afraid I may have overheard a conversation between some ponies that may intend you harm.”

“What?” Emberglow asked dangerously, leaning towards the griffon threateningly.  Griffons were violent, bestial creatures, after all.  She had to be careful.  “What are you talking about?”

“The drunken ship ponies seemed rather upset at rejection, but they knew they’d get kicked out.  Unless their drunken boasts were just that, I believe they might intend the two of you harm.”

“What’s your angle, then?” Emberglow asked warily, and the griffon shrugged.

“No angle.  I just thought you should know.  Do with that what you will,” he said with a shrug of his wings.  He turned to leave, and Emberglow called out.

“Wait!” she said, and the griffon looked over his shoulder.  “Thanks, I guess,” she said.  The griffon shrugged again, walking out the open door and taking wing into the night.

“Would you like me to summon the constables?” the bartender asked.  Emberglow shook her head.

“We can defend ourselves,” she said simply.  Gadget nodded.

“Your friend is a marine too?” he asked.  Emberglow nearly laughed.

“Something like that,” she said.  “I can fight if I need to.”  If she weren’t a match for a few drunken sailors, what kind of Knight was she?

“Okay, if you insist,” the stallion said, clearly not reassured.

The two mares stepped out into the street.  The sun was set, and the soft dirt of the street was illuminated by a half moon and a sprinkling of gas powered lamps on posts spaced throughout the neighborhood.  Very few ponies or other creatures were out and about.

“Perfect night for an ambush, don’t you think?” Gadget asked conversationally.  Emberglow laughed.

“Perfect,” she replied.  “So you believe the griffon?”

“Can’t hurt to be prepared,” Gadget shrugged.  “Besides, beating the crap out of some idiot drunk stallions would be the perfect icing on the cake at the end of a great day.”  Emberglow tried to ignore the thrill she felt in her heart when the other mare said the day had been great, instead focusing on the nervous waver in Gadget’s voice.  She had to remind herself that Gadget wasn’t a Knight like she was, and though she might have more experience, Emberglow had better training and magical enhancements.  “Where to?”

“I’ll walk you back to the barracks, then fly home to The Turtle.  None of the idiots were pegasi, so I’ll be fine.  I just want to make sure you’re safe first.”

“Aw, thanks,” Gadget gushed in a silly voice, causing both mares to giggle as they trotted towards the barracks.  It was only a few blocks before the telltale sounds of somepony following behind echoed in their ears.

“Really?” Emberglow whispered.  “Are they really that stupid?”

“Some ponies just don’t like to hear ‘no’,” Gadget replied.  “What’s the plan?”

“If you can keep everypony off my back, I should be fine.  I’ll focus on taking down individuals as quickly as possible to even the odds, so the most help you can be is to keep them from swarming me.  If you see an exit, take it and run.  If you’re clear, I can get airborne.”

“Okay,” Gadget said, psyching herself up.  “Okay,” she repeated.  “We got this.  Sorry, Lady Emberglow.  I don’t think I’ve ever been in a fight without my dad.”  The uneven hoofsteps behind them were closing in, and as the two mares approached the next block they saw three of the sailor ponies up ahead, waiting at a street corner.

“Let’s give them an out, shall we?” Emberglow asked.  “Last chance to make a good choice, stallions.”  She crossed the street casually, with Gadget following.  The three sailors crossed as well to intercept them.

“Hey!  Hey you mares!  Still don’t want to party with us?” one of them called out, laughing, his voice slurred with intoxication.  Emberglow flinched with annoyance; at least one of the ponies ahead had a weapon, a long, thick club held casually against his shoulder in one hoof.

“Pretty sure we already answered that question,” Emberglow called out with more confidence than she felt.  Her hooves felt full of nervous energy, her wings twitching to spread out and launch her into the air.  Fight or flight indeed, she thought.  But there was no way she was going to take to the air while her companion was earthbound.

“We was hoping you’d reconsider,” the shouter slurred.  He was a purple earth pony, with the bulging muscles of somepony who lifted heavy things for a living.

“Not a chance,” Emberglow replied, still a ways off.  “You’re making a mistake, sir.  Last chance to pull out and save yourself some broken bones.”  Even before the threat left her lips, she knew he wouldn’t back down.  The other stallions laughed, a sound that was joined by the hoofsteps and laughter from behind as the other three closed the trap around the mares.  Emberglow flared out her wings, and Gadget gasped.

“Gonna run, and leave us alone with that sweet treat?” the leader asked with a leer, and Emberglow lunged, using her wings to push herself forwards with a burst of force.  She lamented the lack of her rune gauntlet or her armor, but regret was worthless.  Her dash took her not to the leader, but to his side, right next to the pony with the club.  He spun his weapon around with a surprised curse, but Emberglow planted her front hooves, letting her momentum spin her body around so that her back hooves were lined up for a powerful buck.  She coiled her forehooves and thrust out with all the force her magically enhanced body could muster, impacting the pony in the chest just as his club began to descend against her unprotected flanks.  The stallion let out an ‘oof’, dropping the club as he sprawled sideways onto the dirt street.  The whole maneuver was not nearly as graceful as Emberglow had intended, slowed by her own slight alcoholic impairment, but from the crunch of the impact and the whimper of pain, she knew she’d probably reduced her foes from six to five.

She stumbled a bit, taking a precious second to regain balance and to regret her second drink as the other ponies came to their senses and began to close in on her.  She spun to face the leader, the huge purple earth pony who had spoken, just as Gadget sidled up to her flank, facing the three coming from behind.

“What do you…” the purple sailor began, stepping towards her menacingly.  Emberglow might not look it, but she knew her enhancements made her stronger than nearly all unenhanced earth ponies.  Still, the wall of muscle in front of her would take a bit to go down, so she couldn’t simply use a brute force buck like she did on his club-wielding flunky.  With another flap of her wings, she lunged at him, trying to keep her momentum and the element of surprise as long as she could.  But instead of a tackle or another buck, Emberglow had another target in mind.

The story of a fight is written by the pony that wins the fight, echoed Lady Amaranth’s voice in her head.  You may have read foals tales about honor duels, one on one challenges, and stuff like that.  That’s not what a real battle is.  Your goal is to win and live, and protect anypony innocent.  Anything you need to do to accomplish that is fair game.  Emberglow went low, sliding her hooves in the loose dirt and throwing a cloud up at the surprised purple stallion.  He coughed and spat, flailing out wildly with his front hooves, landing one lucky glancing blow just below Emberglow’s left ear.  She ignored the pain; it was mild.  Her hoof lashed out and caught the flailing stallion right on the jaw.

It felt like she was punching a wall.  She’d been hoping for a crunch of bone, but got nothing more than a stumble and a curse of pain from the earth pony as he backed away from her.  His other flunky recovered his wits and dashed in to help the big purple stallion.  This sailor was green, and had an eyepatch.  He reared up, intending to stomp down on Emberglow just as she was striking at his leader.  She barely managed to roll out of the way, his hooves slamming into the dirt as she rolled onto her side out of reach.  The slight buzz she had managed from her two drinks was managing to slow her down enough to make her regret not taking the bartender up on his offer to fetch the police.

“Emberglow?  They’ve got knives!” Gadget called out, sounding worried.  Emberglow spared a glance.  Sure enough, two of the ponies rushing them from behind carried short knives in their teeth.  Emberglow was grateful there was no magic or unicorns or even pegasi to worry about in this fight, but the presence of blades was troubling.  She’d have to be careful.

“Think I can fly you out of here?” she asked jokingly, and Gadget snorted.

“That a crack about my weight?” Gadget asked as she dodged the first clumsy slash of a sailor’s blade.  The sailor Emberglow had just dodged lunged at her in a full tackle, his forehooves spread wide to try and grapple her.  She couldn’t roll out of the way in time, and the muscled sailor’s hooves wrapped around her in a crushing, violent hug.

This was by far much closer to a drunk, sweaty stallion than she had ever wanted to get.  His breath was hot against her neck as he tried to bite at her face, an action she rewarded with a swift head butt to the jaw. It hurt like Tartarus, a sharp sting against her forehead where she had impacted with one of his teeth, but his hooves loosened enough for her to get her own hooves free, and slam them both into his dazed face.

A sharp cry of pain from Gadget drew Emberglow’s attention.  A narrow gash of red sliced through the foreleg of Gadget’s uniform.  The cut looked shallow, but as Gadget tried to back away she was favoring her wounded leg.  Emberglow gave one last quick punch to the stallion she’d just knocked off her, right to his head, before spreading her wings and launching herself into the air.

It wasn’t true flight, just a wing-assisted leap nearly two pony lengths into the air.  She descended on the pony that had just cut Gadget.  He yelped in surprise as she dropped, angling his blade upwards just as she landed hooves first on his back and head.  She felt the burn of the cut as he sliced along the underside of her barrel, the blade going deeper than she had hoped.  At least the color of her blouse will hide the bleeding.  

Both of them fell in a tumble of tangled limbs.  Emberglow tried to free herself, but the earth pony had ended up partially on top of one of her hind hooves.  She tried to jerk it free as two more sailors, one with a knife, approached from behind.  She only had a second’s warning and Gadget’s scream of dismay as she tried to spin away from the attacking ponies.

Their salvation came with near complete silence, and absolutely no warning.  In one moment, a pony with a knife was about to introduce her innards to the night air.  In the next moment, he was sprawled on the ground, moaning, his knife dropped and his hooves wrapped around his broken ribs.  Out of nowhere, a cream colored blur had galloped, head first, into the knife wielding sailor.  The surprise new combatant was also in the dirt on the ground, also moaning in pain as she clutched her head.

“Bubblegum!” Emberglow cried out, too pleased at the rescue to be annoyed at Bubblegum’s presence.  “What are you wearing?”

It was a pretty lame thing to ask in the middle of a fight, but it was probably a valid question.  The mare’s outfit was, in a word, impractical.  Black velvet covered the mare from head to the tips of her forehooves, capped with the frilliest of curly white lace.  A voluminous skirt, ruffled and also lined with just as much white lace, was now getting caked in the dirt that filled the road.  The skirt itself was held up with a bustle, a fact that Emberglow realized only because Bubblegum’s silly maneuver had cracked the wood, which now hung awkwardly around her flanks.  The whole ensemble was topped by a miniature hat, pinned into Bubblegum’s mane because it was far too small to be worn normally.

Emberglow finally managed to roll the slumped pony off her leg.  The remaining thugs were now circling to assess this new threat, moving slowly and clumsily.  Bubblegum managed to stumble to her hooves, reaching up to her mane and removing her hat pin.  The beautiful black hat, decorated with white flowers, drifted into the dirt as Bubblegum brandished the long, sharp hat pin at the large purple earth pony sailor.  The cream colored mare’s face split in a snarl, her teeth clenched in rage.

“This way, officers.  They’re assaulting some mares over here!” a stallion’s voice called out overhead.  Emberglow looked up to see the dark form of Wind Storm, Bubblegum’s husband, flying above them.  The two sailors that still stood looked up, panicked, and galloped off down the street.  Neither one bothered to assist their fellows, though each one eventually stumbled to his hooves and followed after their cowardly friends.  Wind Storm called out a few more times, following after the stallions.

“Officers?” Emberglow asked, when nopony showed up to Wind Storm’s calls.  Bubblegum grinned.

“Bluff,” she said, stumbling over to where Emberglow stood.  Her gait was unsteady, and as the other Knight leaned in to inspect Emberglow’s wound, Emberglow realized it was more than the head injury she’d probably given herself with her ridiculous maneuver.  Bubblegum reeked of alcohol.  She tried to push the drunk mare away as Bubblegum nosed at her side, trying to better inspect Emberglow’s wound.

“I’m fine, check on Gadget,” Emberglow insisted, but the drunk Knight Adamant growled and shoved Emberglow onto her plot.

“Windy?” she called out.  “Windy, can you find a doctor?”  Bubblegum looked at Emberglow and giggled drunkenly.  “I mean a different doctor than this doctor.  A not this doctor doctor.”  

“I told you, I’m not…” Emberglow began, but with a sly grin, Bubblegum poked at the wet spot on Emberglow’s crimson blouse.  Emberglow hissed in pain, leading Bubblegum to nod sagely.  Fumbling a bit, the Adamant ripped open the blouse, ignoring Emberglow’s protests to reveal a deep, bleeding wound.  Bubblegum looked around, her gaze shifting from her own dress, to Emberglow’s simpler skirt.  With a shrug, she took up one of the sailor’s discarded knives and began cutting strips off of Emberglow’s skirt.

“What are you… oh,” Emberglow began.  She was feeling a bit lightheaded, and not just from her residual buzz.  She watched Bubblegum’s fumbling motions as she tore enough of Emberglow’s skirt in order to create a compress.

“Hold that there,” she said gently, her voice slurring.  Emberglow complied, nodding silently, a bit surprised that the drunken mare seemed to know anything at all about first aid.  Gadget moved over, her face worried.  She was limping, but her wound was not even bleeding, though the sleeve of her uniform was wet.  “Windy!” she shouted again.  The pegasus stallion landed nearby.

“Sorry.  I was just making sure they didn’t loop back around,” he said.  “Everything okay?”  He didn’t sound nearly as drunk as Bubblegum.

“We need a doctor,” Bubblegum said.  “I don’t know heal spells, and I don’t have my rune gauntlet anyways.”

“Turquoise knows some,” Emberglow gasped.  Now that the adrenaline was receding, she was really feeling the slice in her barrel.  “She’ll be quicker.  She’s back at The Turtle, writing letters.”

“On it,” Wind Storm said, and with a spring of his legs, he launched himself into the air.

“You do this,” Bubblegum said to Gadget, motioning at her hooves holding the compress on Emberglow’s wound.  “I’m all wobbly.”

“I can see that, Lady Bubblegum,” Gadget said wryly, and she moved up to the other mare to take her place holding the compress on the knife wound.  

“Heh.  I saved you both,” Bubblegum said, grinning widely.  “Saved you in the middle of your date.”  Emberglow and Gadget found each other’s gaze.  Emberglow was sure that her expression was just as terrified as Gadget’s.

“It wasn’t a date,” she asserted with a wince, and Gadget nodded.

“Told you I don’t care,” Bubblegum said as she tried to sit down in the road.  She realized her now broken bustle was in the way, and with a grunt of annoyance, managed to rip the entire ensemble, cloth and structure and all, off of her dress completely.  She didn’t seem to care that it exposed an indecent amount of pale fur, fishnet stockings, and even the hints of whatever lacy black underthings she had on underneath.  Once that was settled, she curled her legs underneath her and rested her head on the ground.  “Wake me up if you need me.”

A few minutes later Turquoise arrived at a gallop, with Wind Storm close behind.  She wasn’t wearing her armor, but had put on just the rune gauntlet and power supply.

“What in Tartarus happened here?” she cried out.  Bubblegum let out a loud snore as response.

“We were attacked by some drunken thugs, Lady Turquoise.  We thought we could fight them off, but there were a few too many.  Emberglow could have just taken off flying if I hadn’t…”

“Oh, hush,” Turquoise said, holding a hoof up to Gadget’s lips.  “I’ll take care of this.”  Gadget and Emberglow both watched with interest as Turquoise cast the complex runes of one of the most basic healing spells.  It wouldn’t replace any of the lost blood, but it would seal the wound.  “Move out of the way, please.”  She worded it politely, but it was an order nonetheless.  Gadget took her hooves away, and blood oozed from the cloth compress.

It was rare for Emberglow to be on the other end of a healing spell.  She watched as Turquoise skillfully drew the runes in the air, her hoof trailing glowing greenish light.  It hurt her pride a bit, maybe, to be healed by another pony, especially one who might not be as naturally talented as she was, but Emberglow was in no condition to doctor herself.  Besides, healing spells never worked on the pony who was casting them.  

She relaxed as she felt the healing magic fill her wound.  It was an uncomfortable tingle, an itch that burned around the wound as her flesh re-knit itself in seconds rather than weeks.  She let out a gasp of discomfort and pain, but she knew enough about her own business to not try and touch or clutch at her wound.  Turquoise might not be as skilled as she at healing spells, but the Knight Jubilant knew what she was doing.  The older mare touched her hoof gently along the wound, and Emberglow felt the acid sting of healing magic as it slid deep, mending tissue much farther in than the surface.  Emberglow tried to breathe deeply, remembering her training: a simple healing only took as long as three deep breaths.  It felt longer as the pain knifed in her side.

“Done,” Turquoise said, smiling gently.  “Now would somepony tell me what the buck happened in a little bit more detail this time?”

Gadget looked terrified, nervously glancing at Turquoise, and Bubblegum was still drooling into the dirt.  Wind Storm shrugged, looking at Emberglow.  She sighed and told the story from the beginning, leaving out the bits about her paralyzing guilt and near anxiety attack.  It didn’t feel good to share the entire story; Emberglow burned with new guilt.  It was her fault that Gadget had been in danger.  She had overestimated her own strength, her own capabilities.

“We should have taken the barkeep’s offer,” Emberglow confessed.  “I was the one who decided we could take six drunk idiots.  All this is my fault.”  Turquoise eyed her critically, and Emberglow found herself shrinking under her former mentor’s gaze.  “Gadget, I’m so sorry.”

“But…” Gadget began, and Turquoise held up a hoof again.  Gadget stepped back, respectfully nodding her head to the Knight.

“You’re not completely wrong to blame yourself for your overconfidence,” Turquoise said slowly.  “But you remember what Lady Dash said after her failure to stop the breaking dam?”

“Share your victories with your friends, and lean on them in your weakness.  Your friends will show you how to turn failure into strength,” Emberglow quoted automatically.  Turquoise nodded.

“You made a mistake, but can you learn from it?” Turquoise asked.  “Did you ever read Garnet Passion’s treatise on combat tactics?”

“No,” Emberglow said, mentally filing away the author’s name for future perusal.

“The best battle is one that never happens.  If you can afford to avoid a confrontation, you should,” Turquoise quoted.  Emberglow hung her head, her ears drooping in shame.  “C’mon, none of that.  Learn from your mistakes, and lean on your friends for strength.”  She pulled Emberglow to her hooves, patting her gently on the back.  “Literally, in this case.  Lean on me until we get home.  Wind Storm, can you see to your wife?  I’m not sure I really want to leave you both alone out here.”

“She’s just dozing,” Wind Storm said.  “One sec.”  He shook his wife, whose eyes jerked wide as she tried to stand in a single motion, tumbling back to the dirt when the sudden movement unbalanced her.

“Ow.  Everybody okay?” Bubblegum muttered.

“She’ll be fine,” Wind Storm said.  “I’ll get her home.  You all be safe,” he said.

“Thanks, Wind Storm,” Emberglow said.  “Hey, how did you two know we were in trouble?”

“Just happened by,” Bubblegum said unsteadily.  “Heard a fight.  Wanted in.  You just got lucky.”  She grinned at her husband.  “Or not.  I’m gonna get lucky.”  Wind Storm blushed, but he didn’t deny the drunken assertion.  Turquoise rolled her eyes at the Knight Adamant’s antics.

“We’ll walk Gadget back to the barracks,” Emberglow said.  “You’re good to walk?”

“Slowly, yes,” Gadget said.

“Here, let me,” Turquoise said, moving over to the marine and casting a second healing spell.  Gadget tensed, but made no sound as the sensations of healing flowed through her wound.  She had clearly experienced magical healing before.

The walk back to the barracks was quiet.  Emberglow still burned with embarrassment under the shame of her mistake, but leaned against her Knight with resigned weariness.  Gadget was quiet, uncomfortable and unwilling to speak up with the other Knight there.  This left Turquoise to fill the silence, something she did with all the talent and skill of a trained diplomat.  The conversation was light and gentle, though nearly completely one sided, as Gadget remained silent and Emberglow gave exhausted, one word or phrase answers.  Finally, they reached the barracks, and Turquoise dismissed Gadget with specific orders to inform Sergeant Arrow what had happened, and that Gadget would be on light duty until the ship departed in a few days.

“None of this is on you, private,” Turquoise said.  “If Sergeant Arrow has any questions, she can come see me.  You did nothing wrong, understand?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Gadget said uncomfortably, before disappearing into the barracks.  The two Knights watched her go.

“She did nothing wrong,” Emberglow repeated, her words heavy with implication.

“Stop it.  Now.  I won’t have you drowning in some stupid guilt spiral.  You bucked up, but there was no permanent harm done, and you can learn from it.  Now, let’s go home.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Emberglow said, echoing Gadget, and the two ponies walked off towards The Turtle.