//------------------------------//
// Chapter 8: Airship Life 
// Story: Misty Morals 
// by Dragonfire2lm 
//------------------------------//

Mist sat next to Right in the boardroom, a world map spread out on the table, and several other Toppats already seated.

"Is there anything we need to address before we start?" Mist asked, looking around at the clan members gathered at the table.

A clan member with a blue top hat with an upside-down security badge on it spoke up. "Uh, well, we got a problem with ammunition..."

Mist struggled to recall his name. "Winston right? Assigned to inventory management?"

"Yes ma'am," he nodded. "We haven't found a way to resupply and, to be honest, I don't think our guns are any good against ponies..."

"Yeah," another Toppat, Slice, added. "I've gone through the mission reports and our guns aren't as effective as they should be."

Mist frowned. "The Boss has already had a look at a few weapons manufacturers in Penumbra, unfortunately our weapons can't be replicated and Taurusian firearms are inferior to crossbows or bows," she glanced over at Right. "Do we have anyone skilled in archery that could train the crew?"

"Don' think so." Right replied.

"Enchanted bolts and arrows are mass produced, with enough money we could build a stockpile from multiple suppliers, and either hire someone to train the crew or recruit someone," Mist said, an old friend came to mind, he might be willing to help, and she could pull rank on him if she had to. "I have a contact up in Griffonstone who can help."

Everyone was staring at her. She blinked. "What?"

Winston looked sheepish. "Nothing ma'am, we just weren't expecting you to be so willing to solve this little problem we're having with the guns."

Oh, oh by the stars, did they really think-? Mist laughed. "What? You think just because I'm pacifist pansy I'll beat you over the head with my ideals? Ha! Nah, you're welcome to agree with how I do things, but I don't have a say in how you do your job. So long as it gets done and the clan rules aren't broken."

"We'll be stickin' to low risk stealth operations until we have a ground base up." Right stated.

The rest of the crew voiced their acceptance on the matter. Mist directed their attention to the map. "Since setting up a base on land is the clan's main focus, we have a few options for a location depending on what we need the base for."

Slice pulled out a sketch detailing a floor plan and handed it to her. "The Chief wants to start with a basic housing facility, a place for clan members to go when off duty and somewhere safe for new members to get their bearings."

Mist looked at the plans. "A single building isn't going to cut it unless it's an unground bunker," she explained and grabbing the piece of paper, flipping it over and pulling out a pencil to draw on the back. "Big complexes, buildings and forts are far too noticeable. Factories are fairly rare in Equestria outside of Manehatten. If an intrepid explorer, or random weather pony finds it, we're toast, especially since we'll need to regulate the weather in the area for everyone's safety. No matter what we do, it will be noticed."

A crude, rough map of a village was slowly taking shape as she drew. "However, unregistered settlements are fairly common in Equestria, small towns that function like micro-nations with little input from the government, and are self-sufficient are considered the Equestrian Dream by many. A place where a pony can find their place to belong," she showed the finished sketch to the group. "What better way to avoid detection than to present the idea that The Toppats are a minority group from a relatively peaceful village out in the middle of nowhere?"

"Any idea where to set up shop?" Right asked.

Mist looked at the map. "Depends, do we want complete isolation from wider society or be on the fringe? There's plenty of space up north if we want to ditch any notion of having weather management and most people don't travel that far north. If we bargain with the Guardian Creatures in the Forbidden Jungle we'd have somewhere out of the way, as long as we avoid the temples, those places are cursed to Tartarus and back."

"What about outside of Equestria?" Winston asked.

Mist pointed a hoof at the mountains past Griffonstone. "Pony made maps don't go this far out but there's stretches of forests and Griffon Aeries beyond Griffonstone, as long as we avoid griffon hunting grounds and don't pick a fight we could find an area to settle," she drew their attention to Kludgetown. "This town is full of thieves, cutthroats, and con artists, we have enough firepower to take it over, but it'd take a lot of time and effort to get the area and community stable enough to be of any use. We'd have an easier time taking over an Equestrian village."

"The Boss has already decided against takin' over a settlement, too risky." Right said and Mist nodded.

"Ideally we'd want to start in Equestria and branch out, I'll run these ideas by the boss and see what he thinks." Mist stated.

The meeting progressed to other topics that were more focused on the well-being of the crew and any problems on the ship. Mist let Right take the lead and gave her opinion when asked, all in all the meeting lasted for an hour, and Mist felt relieved when it was finally over. When it was just her and Right left in the room, the two cleaned up the various papers and documents that had been used during the meeting.

"Not bad for your first meetin'." Right commented.

Mist groaned. "I was so worried I'd make a mistake. I don't get how you can sit there and force crewmates to just accept your decision."

Right shrugged. "Been here long enough to earn the crew's respect, or scare the pants off 'em," he straightened out a stack of papers. "You got your own approach."

"Eh, you got a point there," Mist agreed as she rolled up the map. "Want to see if the boss has fallen asleep at his desk again after this?"

"Sure, wouldn't be the first time I've walked in on Reg nappin' on top of a classified piece of intel."





Mist approached the only occupied cell in the brig, unlocking the door and slipping the key into her coat pocket. The somewhat timid prisoner in a battered black security uniform and matching hat with security in plain white font on it, looked up in surprise as she entered his cell. A spare bed from the living quarters had been shoved into a corner, and a few harmless pieces of reading material at the foot of the bed were signs that whoever was originally responsible for him had been trying to make him comfortable. She let her wings hang limp and made her movements obvious as she walked towards the prisoner.

She did her best to muster up a smile. "Hi," she watched as the man had no idea what to make of her. "I'm here to make sure you'll be treated properly from now on."

"What do you mean?" he asked, Mist noted he was more wary, nervous than scared. That was heartbreaking to see but understandable, given the circumstances.

"First, you'll get a room all to yourself in the living quarters, three meals a day and access to the public areas of the ship with myself as a chaperone of sorts," Mist replied matter-of-factly. Her tone became more sympathetic. "I'm afraid any life you had before is impossible to return to and the people that brought you here went against the core values of the clan. Since we can't return you home, we're giving you a place in the clan as my assistant, far away from the people that hurt you."

He blinked, disbelief plain as day on his face. "R-really?"

Mist found it a bit easier to smile this time. "Yeah, you won't be doing much, just helping me transctibe stuff in my written language to English for the new sections we're adding to the archives, some data entry in surveillance, stuff like that."

"And that's it?"

"Officially, you'll be taking orders directly from myself, The Right Hand Man, or The Clan Leader as part of a new Civilian Division separate from the airship crew. No one else has the clearance to give you orders or tell you what to do." Mist explained.

"That's... Really considerate, thanks," the prisoner said and held out his hand. "I'm Dave."

Mist shook his hand with a wing. "I'm Mist Veil, First Pony of the Toppat Clan."





Mist found working with Dave was a fairly easy thing to do, he followed instructions once he knew what they were, had far neater penmanship than her, and was friendly.

He was also quite chatty during lunch breaks. "Yeah, so apparently, there was something in that cake, and he used it to escape, and then I got fired. Pretty lame huh?"

Mist blinked at Dave, having difficulty dividing her attention between him, and the egg on rye sandwich she held in her wings. She put the sandwich down on her plate and pointed a feather at him. "So, you didn't check to see if anything was in a package meant for a criminal? Did anyone tell you beforehand that was what you were supposed to do?"

"No...? It was my first day. Rupert was assigned to show me the ropes." Dave replied.

Mist, for life of her, couldn't make sense of the logic behind the situation. She held up a wing in a stop gesture. "They let a rookie, without proper instructions, do a really important job? Even if it was assumed to be common sense to check packages, there are people out there that need clear instructions when doing something- hay, I'm one of them!"

"Yeah, I know right?"

"Hey Dave."

Mist looked over to see Winston walking over to her table carrying his own plate of food.

"O-oh, hi Winston," Dave replied. "So... This where you ended up after getting fired from your job?"

The ex truck driver nodded as he sat across from them. "Yup, glad to see you finally out of that cell."

Dave rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. "Yeah, it's been... Nice. Not as bad as I thought it would be."         

"Well you got the First Pony looking out for ya, if she doesn't keep the rougher clanmates off yer back, the Right Hand Man will," Winston said, tipping his hat at Mist. "Dave and I worked together and I can't thank you enough for helping him."

"Not a problem..." Mist said. "Why didn't you say something to the boss if you know him?"

Winston shrugged. "I was still new, still am in some regards. Didn't want to stir up trouble."

Mist nodded. "I get it, I'm still adjusting to people actually listening to what I have to say. Being this up in the clan hierarchy is weird."

"Well for what it's worth, I think you're doing a good enough job," Winston said casually. "You need help with anything, just ask."

Well that was good to know. Mist smiled gratefully. "Thanks, you wanna be the one showing Dave around the ship?"

"Huh? I thought you were going to do that?" Dave asked, looking up from his plate of food.

"Are you kidding? I only know how to get to here, the bridge, my room, and the archives, and I've been a Toppat for a little over a month and a half." Mist replied.

"It's true," Winston agreed sagely. "The boss had a tracker installed in her hat incase she gets lost somewhere on the ship."

"Woah..."

Mist rolled her eyes. "Not like I'm gonna go wandering off..."

"Can't be too careful though." Winston advised.





Reginald was practically herded to the bridge by his Right Hand Man, walking in, the clear spring night showed a tapestry of stars above them as the ocean beyond Manehatten stretched out below. Two chairs had been set up on either side of the pilots seat, an icebox on the wooden floor next to the seat on his right, and Mist occupying the left seat. He was silently steered towards the pilot seat and sat down, watching as Right pulled out a can of beer and pressed it into his hands.

"...Thank you?" Reginald said, confused as his friend pulled out a packet of some sort of snack, tossed it in Mist's direction and grabbed a second packet and a small, dark coloured bottle of some kind for himself before sitting in the only other available seat.

"What'd you get for yourself?" Mist asked as she tore open her packet. It took a moment for Reginald to read the Ponish label, Beast Jerky.

"Ginger beer an' jerky." Right drawled.

"I'm so jealous, can't have soft drink anymore," Mist stated, then shrugged. "At least I get jerky, thanks for getting some for me."

"So... Ponies can eat meat?" Reginald asked as he set his beer down to remove his gloves, he didn't want to deal with the condensation on his very expensive leather gloves. He was grateful for the respite from his work, if a bit miffed he was forced into it.

"Pegasi can, the other tribes can't digest meat, something about pegasi needing more protein and iron," Mist tried to explain. "I dunno, I know I have an iron deficiency, and this is about the only meat I can eat without setting off my reflux."

She offered him a piece of the blackish red, dried meat, and he took it, chewing thoughtfully.

"S'not beef, tastes close enough though," Right commented. "Hydra meat or something..."

Reginald finished eating and cracked open his beer, taking a swig. "Well it's... certainly different," he glanced over at Mist happily munching on a piece of jerky. "You've been looking better these last few days."

The two humans waited for her to finish eating. "I started removing wheat from my diet not long before we met, it just took a while for the change to have a noticeable affect," Mist looked far more alive and alert than when Reginald first talked to her all those weeks ago. Had it only been one and a half months since they crashed? It felt longer than that somehow. "Having a reason to give a shit, about anything, helped too."

"Well, I'm glad we have you onboard," Reginald replied and looked around. "... What else are we doing tonight?"

"Stargazin', relaxin'," Right supplied bluntly. "Talk, if we feel like it."

"Oh." Reginald supposed it couldn't hurt to see what all the fuss was about, they did this every night after all. He took another sip of his beer and looked out at the night sky. It really was beautiful and alien with its purple hues and sparkling white dots of light, like something from a fairy-tale.

Minutes went by at a snails pace for the Toppat Chief, the silence broken periodically by the rustling of the jerky packaging as his friends ate. He thought back, trying to recall when he first counted Mist among the very small number of people he dared to consider a friend. It was probably when she damn near killed herself driving off the dragon, seeing her so weak and dependent on him and Right as a distraction from her suffering didn't sit well with him. The sheer dread in her voice as she told him to keep the ship moving when the dragon attacked, it stayed with him, made him acutely aware of the fact that she might not have made it out alive.

The same was true with her confrontation with Red Dawn, that mare was a threat, the clan noticed her stalking them whenever they descended to Manehatten, looking for any sign of Mist. Reginald had kept her on the ship for that reason, to keep his First Pony out of that madmare's clutches.

"Mist?" he said and she looked over at him. "Do you, have a plan for dealing with your former friend?"

"Hm? Sunset?" she said through a mouthful of food. Reginald waited patiently for her to continue. "I've tried reaching out to her mum in the past but all I get in response is Sunset should come see me herself. I kept Sunset on a tight leash- morally speaking- to keep the guard off our backs but now? I'm going to have to step in and do something about her, and soon."

That was not the answer he was expecting, he even saw Right lean forward in his seat to look at her in mild surprise. Reginald was stunned. "You intend to fight her?"

Mist's expression was a mix between torn and resigned. "I already warned her and she didn't listen. I'm going to track her down and cut off her horn, removing her as a threat... I can't talk her out it, everyone else is either to intimated by her or her ties to royalty to take her out, and there isn't a safe way to contain her with how powerful her magic is."

"An' I'm guessing you don' want her dead?" Right drawled.

"No, I'd give anything for there to be another way of dealing with her." Mist admitted.

Reginald thought for a moment, a runaway royal whose mother put in the bare minimum of effort to retrieve her? "Could we trick her into encountering her mother? Or make her out to be a large enough threat that the government would have to act?"

"I'd be in very real danger, she's predictable to degree but I have no idea what she's gotten up to since I left, she's not above hurting me either," Mist mused. "If I give her the impression I've been worn down to the point of working with her, I could split off and tip off her mum, and hopefully slip out when everything goes south."

They spent next few hours discussing plans and every angle things could go wrong. Eventually, with all possible ideas exhausted, the discussion shifted to other topics.

"Do you think you're up to making an inquiry about becoming a vampire?" Reginald asked Mist and drained the last dregs of beer from the bottom of his can in one gulp, his two hats falling off from how far back he tilted his head.

Mist giggled as Right leaned over to pick up the fallen hats, tossing them onto Reginald's lap. Mist hummed thoughtfully. "All I can do is ask, not just anyone is accepted as a subject of Penumbra, you have to pass a test of some kind," she moved her wings in a shrug as Reginald turned his attention fully on her. "It's different for everyone, apparently, and all vampires are under an oath to keep the process as secretive as possible. All I know is that there's a test and a Rite of Transformation if I pass."

"Alright you two, it's midnight. Bed, both of you." Right spoke up and Reginald allowed his friend to nudge both himself and Mist to their rooms, the mare finding the situation highly amusing if her grin and occasional giggle were any indication.