//------------------------------// // Project Border: Beasts Upon the Ocean // Story: Odd's Oubliette: Otherwise Obsolete Oddities // by Odd_Sarge //------------------------------// Jury Rig did not like what he saw on the starboard side of his patrol boat. “What the hay is that?” the captain muttered. Lowering his spyglass, he wiped his tired eyes with a white wing and turned to the crew on deck. “Prepare for boarding, I have a feeling we’re not going to get any hails.” With his crew in motion, Rig turned back to the vessel and began a search for any form of identification whatsoever. “No flag, no lights and signals... Nothing.” Nothing… save for a name painted in blue on the side of the vessel’s hull. He stowed his spyglass. “The RSV Tern?” Jury Rig and his crew were apart of the Equestrian Coast Guard, and this inspection was just another part of their daily routine… but the ship’s existence was all but usual. He suspected the ship to be more than just a simple research vessel by name, but had no evidence to support it save for the lack of proper signals. Another thing that struck him as peculiar was the designation; RSV was mostly used on Earth, not Equus. Many humans did not have an active mariner’s license in Equestria’s waters, and even then, what was a human doing moored just outside of Haybinger Port? A ship moored too far from the coast and too small to have a rowboat… something was keeping the ship from entering the port. “Something’s wrong,” Jury Rig commented with a shiver. Licking his lips, he carefully lifted his radio receiver and spoke. “This is the Equestrian Coast Guard vessel High Tide. Identify yourself.” Silence. “I repeat, this is the Equestrian Coast Guard vessel High Tide. Identify yourself or you will be subject to the use of force!” Another lapse of silence. Rig sighed. “Captain of the Tern, if you do not comply, you will be boarded by an armed party!” There was no response from the ship shrouded by midnight fog. Even as they pulled close to the vessel, the crew of the ECG High Tide couldn’t see any signs of life aboard. It was seemingly abandoned, save for the soft hum that permeated the lower freeboard of the schooner. The ship’s hull was formed of a metallic alloy that reflected the patrol boat searchlights through a layer of matte white paint. The paint was far too pristine for an abandoned ship. The hull seemed to be about twice that of the patrol boat in all dimensions but length; at best, Jury Rig estimated the ship to be about 35 meters in length, with a 6 meter beam and 4 meter draft. The vessel had a sleek design, with the ship tapering off to a point at its triangular bow as opposed to the boxy front of the High Tide. It was a beautiful ship that a single experienced captain could probably handle alone.  The captain and his crew had no idea what they had stumbled across, but there was definitely some form of research to be done, and the first question was whether the ship was crewed or not. With a nod to the deck gunner aboard the patrol boat, Captain Jury Rig of the Equestrian Coast Guard clambered aboard the humming vessel, followed closely by three armed guardsponies. As soon as Rig’s hooves touched down on deck, the pegasus’ ears prickled at a soft sound; somepony was talking. His eyes drew themselves down to a small hatch that was open near the lone deckhouse of the ship. The wooden floorboards opened up into a brightly lit compartment, which no doubt led directly to the lower aft of the ship. “On me,” Jury Rig ordered quietly to the crew. Steeling himself, he crept down into the depths of the ghost ship. The belly of the ship reflected the futuristic design on the outside, and on closer inspection, Rig realized that the alloy of the ship’s hull was aluminum-based. This was a ship built for speed, so what was it doing in Haybinger Port, no less docked outside of the port town?  Aluminum production had always been an expensive prospect in the shipwright industry; Jury Rig had grown up in the industry with his father, and he knew that only the Equestrian military had extensive use with aluminum… that is, until the arrival of humanity. The humans had revolutionized the industry of the world, but even with their advances, aluminum alloys remained an expensive building material that sucked up even more cost in labor. Perhaps the ship was a covert asset of the navy, but the circumstance was far too suspicious; there was no way that a military ship in operation would be moored outside of a civilian area without an active crew, and besides, the ship had human classification. It made boarding the Tern all the more a tense prospect. The voice he’d heard earlier came into clarity. Jury Rig motioned to his ponies; wing-pistols at the ready, they followed closely behind their officer as he advanced past a rack of life vests and a few footlockers. The squad suddenly slowed; a conversation on the opposite side of the bulkhead was taking place. The sound was barely audible, but two distinguishable voices were there. “... Kill me and the ship goes down with me.” “The door at the end,” one of Rig’s crew commented just loudly enough for their group to hear.  The captain silenced the guard with a hoof; the conversation was hitting a peak. “How so?”  “I know this ship bow to stern. You kill me, you lose that knowledge.” “A fair trade for the abilities of the ship.” “Time isn’t on your side.” “And it’s not on yours either.” Jury Rig had never really had to breach a door on any ship before, but he was ready to make it a first. The door was already partly open, so all that had to be done was the breach. Two of his guards stacked up with him on the door, and the third continued to watch behind them for any threats. “You heard them outside… The Coast Guard’s coming. They’re probably on the ship now.” “They won’t be a problem.” Clunk.  Rig only had enough time to snap his head back down the hall. “Grena—!”  A bang filled Jury Rig’s ears and his world flashed white. Burly limbs wrapped around him, knocking his sidearm from his hooves in the process. The attacker slammed him through the door and threw him on the floor where he quickly found his wings and hooves bound. He blinked blearily through the haze of the flashbang and the ringing in his ears, but all he was rewarded with was a stinging sensation. Eventually though, the white faded. He opened his eyes. Jury Rig was lying sideways on the cold metal deck of the ship. Across from him was a towering black creature… he noted blearily that it was a unicorn. The stallion grinned down at him with pearly white teeth and spoke. Rig couldn’t hear through the ringing, so he instead chose to right himself onto his haunches and survey the situation. Just as he had suspected, his crew had been disarmed and bound with cable ties as well. Two of them had been placed at the front of a large mint-green machine, and the last was being carried atop the back of a bulky brown earth pony. Their weapons had been discarded by the hooves of another unicorn, this one an ocean blue mare, who was in the middle of sealing the door. Jury Rig had just found himself in a hostage situation, and he and his crew were the readily available pawns of these unnamed assailants. But they weren’t the first. Jury Rig stared at the human standing beside the unicorn. They looked back at him with a frown, their hands behind their back. Like the captain, this human, too, was bound. Rig gave the human a nod and grunted. The human nodded back. The charcoal unicorn slapped the captain hard with a hoof to the cheek, forcing Rig to look back up at the pony. The ringing was quickly subsiding now, and he heard the second voice from before—he noted it was the human’s.“... a bit rude.” The unicorn snorted as he turned back to face the man.  “You believed the Equestrian Guard would stop us? I’m appalled you would underestimate our abilities, Clay.” “I never said they would stop you, I simply said time wasn’t on your side.” The unicorn rolled his eyes. “Why do you believe yourself to be such a powerful asset? Our organization could reverse engineer this ship in a day. Your death and notions are meaningless.” “There’s no reason to lie to yourself, Chit.” Jury Rig noted that the human—Clay, if he had heard correctly—spoke quite calmly. He seemed more annoyed than angry at being held hostage. “My ship—” “A princess’ ship,” Chit growled. “From the very ponies that you say you are fond of, you stole their rulers’ ship.” Clay’s face fell grim. “My ship will fall apart without me. You don’t even know where to begin with the engine, let alone how to man the ship; it takes more to work this ship than simply understanding what’s on the inside.” He leant forward, eyes flicking to meet Jury Rig’s own very briefly. “Scion Chit. You’re nothing but a pawn in this game the shadows are playing. I know what you think you’re gonna gain from taking the ship; favor. Let’s face it, your organization doesn’t care about you now and will care even less after this. If you were to die, they’d be glad to be rid of you. And you’ll be dead the moment they find out from me that you ruined everpony’s business. The only thing meaningless here is you.” Rig’s ears flopped down against the sides of his head as the human pulled back; a gray aura of magic was wrapped taut around Clay’s throat. The unicorn was practically hissing. “You. Know. Nothing.”  Clay’s choking became more profound as he slowly began to levitate upwards.  “The only thing my superiors will hear from you will be that you have been usurped.” “Not… gonna… happen…” Clay breathed. Somewhere from the depths of the ship, a terrible roar rang out. Chit dropped the human, who gladly replenished his lungs with air.  “What was that?” the unicorn demanded. A scream tore across the vessel, and all of the ponies gathered flinched… Clay simply coughed. “Manticores,” Clay half-groaned, half-laughed. “It sounds like the guy you sent to loot the ship just found my cargo.” Jury Rig shuddered. He didn’t like lions.  Especially venomous lions that could fly. CLANK! A mass of meat and muscle slammed against the watertight door, and even Scion Chit felt a pang of fear go through him. “You maniac!” He pulled Clay up to his feet involuntarily. A harder thud slammed into the bulging door. “We’re all going to die!” “That’s not the plan either…” With a burst of speed, the human tucked his head down and bodied the unicorn. They tumbled to the floor, Chit too surprised to react. At the same moment, the door to the room flung open on screaming hinges, smacking the unicorn mare at the door muzzle-first; she went down, knocked out cold. One of Jury Rig’s crew members—a pegasi sat against the machine—slid their hooves from their cable ties and quickly undid their fellow guard’s bindings with a few sharp bites and pulls. After undoing each other’s ties, one pegasus flew off to face the earth pony standing near the last guard, and the other flew to Jury Rig’s aid.  “The bindings!” the guardspony spat quickly. The captain ignored the embarrassing fact that he hadn’t tried to undo his bindings himself prior to the breakout and instead pulled the ties off of his savior’s wings. The action was reciprocated, and with his rescue complete, the guardspony flew off to help his comrades with the earth pony.  Unfortunately, freedom was not at hoof quite yet.  Jury Rig and the manticore locked eyes. The captain gulped audibly. “Oh, hay.” “GET OFF ME!”  A quick glance told Jury Rig that the human had freed himself and was currently holding the unicorn down by the horn. He didn’t have time to digest the situation fully, as the meaty thuds of pawsteps against metal dragged him back to the manticore. Acting on instinct, he jumped up into the air and pulled his hooves up, narrowly dodging the manticore’s lunge. Uninterested in doing a live test of what a wing-pistol could do to a manticore’s thick hide, Rig opted on getting the ponies, the human, and himself out of combat as quickly as possible. “Scruffy, over here!”  Confused, Jury Rig looked back to Clay. The human was standing now, his hands firmly wrapped around Scion Chit’s horn and throat… and he was getting ready to push him into the oncoming manticore’s charge. The captain could only watch in horror as Clay practically threw the stallion into the manticore. A sickening crack filled the air of the room as the manticore landed on the unicorn. His muffled screams filled the air for a moment, and then it was gone. The manticore was unphased, and quickly bounced back up onto its paws. Jury Rig shook his head and bit back the rising bile in his throat. ’Thank Celestia it was just a foreleg.’ The captain looked away from the unconscious and battered body of Chit and pulled himself together. “I need to get these ponies and my crew out of here ASAP!” He saw the earth pony topple over in the background as one of his crew landed a nice upper cut into the stallion’s jaw. “How do we deal with the manticores?” “Let me handle ‘em!” Clay shouted over the rumbling pawsteps of the manticore. “Scruffy and Max don’t like ponies! Just get you and your men out of here!” Ignoring the fact the manticores had given names, Jury Rig swooped down to the body of Scion Chit. He was still breathing, and as Rig picked the pony up he was thankful to find that he was quite light. Clay had jumped away from the body and in front of the manticore, and Rig could hear the sound of claws sliding against metal as the beast slid to a stop. “Easy Scruffy!” Rig’s crew were quick to follow him out the room; two of them carried the earth pony, and the one who’d untied him had picked up the unicorn mare. The captain sent one look back through the broken doorway at Clay, who was still literally holding onto the manticore to prevent it from tearing the ponies apart. There was no time to waste, though, and he and his crew quickly made their way back through the entrance, ignoring the growls further towards the front of the ship, presumably from the cargo bay. Jury Rig was quicker to action this time. Barking orders like a madpony, he had four of the crewmembers aboard the ship take the unconscious ponies from the boarding party, and an additional two pegasi joined him aboard the RSV Tern. The deck gunner was told to hold his fire unless directly threatened, and with that, the regrouped squad of six descended into the ship once more. They came down at the worst possible moment, as Clay was just passing by with the manticore in front of him. He motioned for the ponies to be quiet, and worked on keeping the manticore looking straight ahead instead of at the ponies. Once the pair had disappeared down the hall and around a corner, the six pegasi resumed their movement with much more trepidation. “There’s manticores?” a new member of the group asked nervously. “Two of them, apparently,” one of the pegasi from the initial boarding party muttered. “Shut up!” The order from the First Officer did its job, which did much to relieve the Captain’s worries. Clay’s voice suddenly echoed down the hallway. “God, you did a number on this poor guy, Max.” A number of soft sounds followed, including grunts of exertion, and then the ponies heard a door shut.  “It’s safe, captain,” came the man’s voice. As the group came around the bend, they came upon the human and the last hostile; the stallion sprawled across the floor was battered and a little more than bruised, but he was breathing, and that was good enough for everypony present. Clay was in the middle of unclipping a vast array of gear strapped to the unconscious body of the grey pegasus; Jury Rig admired the speed at which the human committed himself to the process. “Sucker must’ve thought he could get away with a good chunk of my…” he hesitated. “Nevermind that’s beside the point, you got the rest of them locked down?” “They’re secure,” Jury Rig stated simply. He eyed the man carefully as he began strapping the pegasus’ stolen gear to his own self. “Now that we’ve weathered the storm…” The captain pulled himself taut. “I’m Captain Jury Rig with the Equestrian Coast Guard, and you are?” “I’m Clay.” “... and your last name?” Jury Rig paused, wondering suddenly where the manticore had gone. “For the record, of course.” “Kiln.”  The stallion’s eyes narrowed ever so slightly. “Not to pry, but that’s quite the ah, familiar name.” The human continued to work his straps as he responded to the captain’s question. “My wife thought it would be a good idea to take up an Equestrian name. I wasn’t born Kiln, but I’ve always been Clay.” There was a final resounding snap as Clay finished his work. “And I like it that way.” “Well Captain Kiln, I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask you to undo all that fine work you’ve done there with your…” The nature of Clay’s bags was clear. “Weapons and equipment.” “I have my permits.” “And I’m sure you do.” Rig couldn’t help but sigh. “You’ve been a fine citizen so far, but we need to get this business sorted out before I can let you go.” “And what business would that be?” “The matter of your ship’s unsolicited anchorage in territorial waters near Equestrian assets.” He paused. “And whether or not you actually have your permits for ‘Exotic Animals’ and ‘Weapons’ trade.” Clay put on a smug grin. “And the baddies.” “Yes yes, and the baddies… Would you kindly disarm yourself so that my men can properly escort you above deck? We’ll do our checks, and we’ll be out of your mane.” “You and I both know there’s going to be more to it than that.” “Captain, please.” “With all due respect, Captain Rig…” One of the manticores prowled around a corner, causing all of the ponies save Jury Rig to flinch. “I’ve got a delivery to make, and these are some very significant goods.” The second manticore emerged from the other side of the room, this time causing a few ponies to backpedal. “Property of the Crown, you see?” Jury Rig held his resolve. “Captain Kiln, I don’t care who you’re delivering these goods to, there’s the matter of fact that you were held captive on your own vessel, and documentation needs to be filled in order to properly record everything that’s just happened.” A harsh screeching—like chalk on board—sounded off through the hull. Clay was impassive as he spoke. “You should’ve just taken care of your new prisoners and left.” A rumble shook the ship. “They’re escaping.” He strode past the ponies, the manticores returning down the corridor to the bow after one final glance at the group. The stallion was not pleased at how the situation was playing out. “I’m going to assume you’re right, beca—” “Less talking, more moving.” The ponies were quick to rush ahead of Clay in the quick corridor to get above deck, and as the two captains emerged alongside each other, the carnage strewn across the deck of the High Tide came into view. Jury Rig swore softly under his breath; the squad flapped over to the ship and alighted smoothly. “C-Captain Jury Rig!” The deck gunner scrambled a salute as the squad reboarded their ship, all in awe of the scorch marks splattering the deck; it was far worse than from afar. “T-They just…” “How?” Jury Rig’s eyes were wide. “Nevermind, I don’t care how, where are they?” “Thank you for your time, Captain!”  Jury Rig whirled around at the yell of Clay. “What do you—?” He froze; the low hum had become a buzzing overtone. With nary a passing word, Clay saluted the captain and slammed the door to the bridge. And in an iridescent flash of purple, the ship disappeared. Gritting his teeth hard, Jury Rig lurched onto the edge of his ship for support. “Oh for Celestia’s sake! Can’t anything go right whenever we go to Haybinger?!” “Captain,” his First Officer began warily. “What are your orders?” Jury Rig heaved a heavy breath and surveyed his ship. The place was a mess: several guardsponies had been knocked about and were just beginning to stir, a brand new hole surrounded in a black coating of ash sat in the middle of his deck, and worst of all, the prisoners were missing. All he could do was sigh; it was a late night of work, he had experienced yet another incident around Haybinger, and worst of all, he had paperwork to do about several missing suspects… and that human. Something had been off about the whole ship and its captain, and Jury Rig swore to himself that he’d do everything he could to find out who Clay Kiln really was… and what exactly he was involved in. He leered back at his second-in-command with a stony grimace. “Rouse up the rest of the crew. We’re going home early.”