Equestrian Calendar: 2nd Month, 7th Day, Year 1002 PB (Post Banishment)
Two hours before Midday
Celestia's Royal Chambers, Canterlot
Canterlot had been overtaken by an organized bedlam. It wasn't every day that a Royal chose to commission, fund, and most surprising of all, lead an expedition beyond the borders of the Equestrian Nation. Much less on short notice.
Such a historic event had only been recorded three times in the equine country's past; none had been more recent than the pre-banishment era. No living member of society, save the Royal Sisters themselves, had actual memories of such an occurrence.
To Flux, the commotion was at once familiar, yet tinged with the alien. The talented unicorn had been the chief biologist on many a scientific endeavour; all very large, posh, complicated affairs much like the one he found himself caught up in.
The sense of the strange and eerie stemmed from the fact that the Pony in charge of the expedition was not the snobby high bred archivist type, nor the dashing brazen military sort, both of which were familiar archetypes to anyone who had undertaken more than a few Royal expeditions.
For a Royal to actually oversee a Royal expedition was admittedly logical, but unheard of.
Flux found himself particularly in awe; Celestia he knew personally, but Luna was a complete mystery, wrapped in a starry enigma.
It had been agreed, suddenly and apparently unanimously, that the Princess of the Night should take charge of the, as yet, seemingly purposeless expedition.
Flux had spent the majority of the morning blindly going through the semi-familiar routine of packing gear, instruments, and personal effects; all the while his mind was occupied with the mystery of the group's objective.
The Unicorn was loathe to ask anyone else on the expedition staff; for one thing he expected they knew as little as he did, for another it would be disrespectful. The Princesses would share their wise counsel in their own time.
His resolution to be patient took in his head, but less so in his heart, and consequently his head set to using what meager facts he had to piece together an understanding of the events that would motivate Royalty to first take such an interest in his exciting, but largely laboratory-bound research, then become vested in such an off-the-fetlock expedition to Celestia only knew where.
Literally.
As Flux darted from room to room in the Castle, collecting knick knacks, sample jars, and the odd article of clothing, his analytical brain kept reaching one seemingly inescapable conclusion; friend or foe, for better or worse, the Royal Sisters knew that somewhere out there, beyond the safe borders of Equestria, there was someone or something new.
Why else to send Luna; once heralded as both the liaison to the less diplomatic races, and the overseer of all things battle related, along with himself; perhaps the foremost expert on the biology of multiple species in the land?
The most recent 'first contact' in the history books was the initial encounter with Minotaurs.
It had gone as well as could have been expected; there was very nearly a war, until Celestia had invoked help from the Gryphon Kingdoms.
The Minotaurs, respecting the display of power, had then provided no trouble whatsoever in negotiating a peace treaty, in fact displaying a surprisingly hospitable fact of their culture once the initial 'pleasantries' were over. It was ironic that a species who could be so peaceful first required that a prospective ally prove that they either had the power to challenge them, or the trust and friendship of someone else who could; a role the Gryphons seemed to fill quite often by Flux's estimation.
If the new expedition had truly been formed for the purpose Flux was increasingly beginning to suspect; then it would mark the first new race discovered in a century. For all the trepidation the idea provoked, he had to admit that the concept of being party to such a defining event also appealed to him immensely.
As Flux arrived back at his suite, coming full circuit in his whirlwind trip around the palace, he discovered that a pair of Royal Guards were already awaiting his return; their ever inscrutable faces betraying no impatience, despite the fact that they may well have been standing there for up to an hour.
At some stage, they had gathered the scientist's two large trunks, and assorted smaller bags; obviously Celestia had not been exaggerating when she said departure would be prompt and punctual..
Flux blushed slightly; embarrassed that his absent mindedness had held the two uniformly white and blue stallions in their thankless station for so long, "Aaaah.. Terribly sorry sirs.... You haven't been waiting here *too* long have you?"
The guard on Flux's left took one disciplined, measured step forward. His tone was emotionless and even, completely matching his muzzle, "Your presence is requested at the earliest possible moment. We're here to escort you."
Flux nodded, and stood stock still, trying to decide how to handle the veritable cornucopia of miscellaneous items contained in his saddlebags, and magical grip.
Finally, as the patient, and almost judgmental, looks of the guards bored into his skull, he settled on quickly prying open one of the trunks and stuffing the last of his effects in as quickly as he could.
The messiness of the solution was unappealing, but it was infinitely less uncomfortable than keeping the guards waiting. Intimidation factor aside, Flux hated to put others out. He could always re-sort everything once the party made its first nightly camp.
The moment he had the latch firmly affixed, once again, to the trunk, the two guards each grasped a small attached handle in their muzzles, and pulled the crates into the air; their scant few feet of altitude maintained by the magic that suffused the wings of all Pegasi.
Despite his near constant exposure to feats of thaumomancy that defied all classification or containment, Flux still marveled at the small everyday miracles that Earth Ponies and Pegasi were effectively born with. To him, there was a much harsher limit on the weight his telekinetic grip could handle.
To the guards, the trunks he would likely struggle with were literally as light as feather pillows.
Perhaps gravity itself was a constant, but no one ever said anything about having to *obey* it.
Flux couldn't help but sneak the occasional glance at his escorts as they moved, seemingly effortlessly, down the vaulted hallways of the castle. Quickly, however, his mind became occupied with deducing their destination.
He had expected to be taken to the main courtyard; it seemed like the logical place to assemble a large caravan for departure. Instead, the guards appeared intent on guiding him around the other side of the mountain, to the river overlook.
The realization generated a swelling sensation of excitement for the Unicorn; there could be only one reason to bring him to the overlook.
His newfound expectations were not met with disappointment.
As Flux exited the marble hallways of the castle, exchanging the room-temperature decorated spaces for the cooler shaded rock of the overlook, a glorious sight filled his eyes and demanded his attention and awe.
Suspended before him was a ship; for all the world it looked as if a legendary naval warship from the old stories had sprung to life out of the pages of a book. The vessel hung in midair, connected to the overlook by a long sturdy gangway that could doubtless support a three -wide column of Ponies, but surely didn't have the tensile strength to maintain the hull's position.
The ship was, in fact, suspended not by moorings, but by an immense billowing cascade of gleaming fabric, secured with countless firm lines, and even plated in several especially vulnerable spots with gleaming armor.
Here lay an airship that put every vessel in the Nation's history of air travel to shame.
To Flux's detail oriented and disciplined eye, it looked to be at least three times larger than the largest airship he knew of. The envelope, like most Equestrian airships, took the stylized form of a whale, but instead of a single tail, the vessel sported two; in order to aid in controlling its mind boggling bulk.
Where oars might have sat on the hull-proper, had it been a seagoing ship, instead were affixed winglike paddles. These served as propulsion when worked by teams of 'rowers,' or turned into the wind like sails if the weather was favorable. A ship the size of Equestria's new pride and joy likely had its own dedicated weather Pegasi to clear the skies and create favorable weather systems, Flux reasoned to himself as he continued to gape at the ship.
The airship was white with gold trim, but midway down both the ship hull and the envelope there was an artful swoop of darkest blue, trimmed in steel and silver, that extended back over the ship to tinge one tail, and completely color the other. One tail bore the emblem of the rising sun, the other, the blue one, was stamped with the sigil of the waxing moon.
As he tentatively approached the gangplank, Flux saw that the figurehead was the horn of an Alicorn, formed from entwined onyx and marble, inlaid with complicated designs in the thinnest strands of gold and silver.
He also noted the presence of two rows of menacing weapon ports within the side of the ship.
Equestrian airships usually eschewed arbalests, except for the relatively few border patrol vessels in the Royal Navy.
The guards forged on ahead, bypassing the connecting bridge and simply flying Flux's trunks directly to the deck, where a crew of Earth Ponies promptly made off with them to stow them in parts of the ship unknown.
Flux took his time on the gangway, and was passed several times by hurried groups of Unicorns and Earth Ponies going in both directions. When he arrived on deck, the sight that greeted him was unsurprising, yet more than a little awe inspiring, and certainly intimidating.
To one side, left of the tiller, stood the Princess of the Night, resplendent in her traditional war armor. Most Ponies were accustomed to seeing the Royal sisters in their regalia; few knew that they both possessed ceremonial (and doubtless functional) armor. Luna's was comprised mostly of curving plates of steel and Lapis Lazuli, with the occasional sharp onyx blade, affixed by silver wires, that looked deadly enough to gore an enemy in one stroke.
Across from Luna, Celestia stood in her usual golden garb, flanked by two of her guards.
On the other side of the tiller stood an older looking Pegasus with mostly silvered mane, but a few remaining fiery streaks. His uniform and the gold orbs on the collar, identified him as the captain of the ship.
The other two metaphorical points of the compass were occupied by a pair of large, stoic looking Gryphons, one jet black with the tiniest of green flecks, one a solid shade of tawny.
They were dressed in their own more practical and menacing battle armor, and carrying huge lances strapped to their backs, alongside crossbows that looked powerful enough to pierce solid ancient stone with their quarrels.
It all made sense of course; Luna was leading an expedition into the unknown, and thus the armed status of the ship, her armor, and the two Gryphons followed logically.
Despite the cultural divide, and even fear that tinged modern Equestrian relations with Gryphons on a public level, they were and always had been firm allies of the Nation. Ponies had little stomach for war, yet lived in a dangerous world. Gryphons were born predators and guardians.
By contrast, the avians had little to no diplomatic sensibilities, but Ponies were practically made to befriend others.
It was a perfect match, and the longstanding alliance had always been mutually beneficial; the Ponies kept the Gryphons from ending up in too many wars for even their considerable prowess to deal with, and the Gryphons hunted and exterminated all the horrors that went bump in the night, snuffing them out far from the peaceful lives of the Equestrians.
Flux had no doubt the Gryphons were responsible for the design and execution of all the armor and weapons gracing the new airship. Unbeknownst to most, the Gryphon Kingdoms were actually the ones who designed and manufactured the armor for Celestia and Luna's guard divisions. The gold of the exterior was mere leafing that hid internal alloys twice as strong as solid steel; the product of Gryphic metallurgy, which was unsurpassed by any other race.
Diamond Dogs might have been the best miners of all the bountiful produce that rock and shale could offer, and Unicorns might have been the best workers of gemstones and crystals in all the realms; but if one needed work done with steel, iron, bronze, gold, or stranger and more mythic alloys, the Gryphons were the indisputable first and last word in the business.
Flux suddenly felt very small and insignificant; he was gripped by a deep compulsion to avoid interrupting the discourse of what might as well have been demigods and archangels in comparison to him; the scatterbrained disheveled and hurried magical scientist.
Before he could act on his compulsion, and slip away belowdecks, Celestia took notice of him, and graced him with a radiant smile that seemed to raise the light level in the canyon by several orders of magnitude.
She inclined her head, "Dearest sister, honored Knights, this is Flux. He is, without a doubt, the most qualified observer, learner, and thinker when it comes to matters of form and body. He is also a longtime friend and student."
Luna dipped her head once in greeting, the Captain fired off a salute garnished with a slight friendly grin, and the Gryphons imitated Luna's gesture.
Flux was sure his cheeks were flushed red enough to be seen a mile away.
He shuffled awkwardly, and searched for words, finally settling on something as generic and polite as possible, "I'm... really quite in awe... this ship is an amazing achievement. I'm honored to have a place on her."
A short rumbling laugh escaped the black Gryphon, "I see that the skies are not familiar territory for you?"
Flux shook his head, "I've been on an airship mayhaps twice in my life."
The ship's Captain, whose cutie mark Flux noted was a form of compass rose, with a tiller artfully worked into it, smiled, "I wish I could remember how that kind of discovery felt. You do this as long as some of us have, it becomes second nature and then some."
Luna shook her head, "If discovery is what thou seekest, I doubt that any of you shall come away from this disappointed."
Celestia raised an eyebrow, "Careful sister. Rumors are like a virus; they spread. Remember your own stipulation; your purpose is not to be discussed with the crew until two days underway."
Luna smiled; a gleaming predatory, icy expression that sent an involuntary shiver down Flux's spine, "Out of the two of us, Celestia, I think I am the more secretive. Trust my instincts."
Celestia shook her head in self chastisement, "Of course. You always had the head for plans and maps and secrets. Just don't slip too far into Classical, or no one but perhaps Flux will be able to understand you."
It was Luna's turn to raise an eyebrow, "We thinkest thou mayest underestimate our burgeoning talents in the artes of newe languages that thy subjects, and other races do now spake."
For the briefest of moments, celestia looked slightly horrified. Luna snorted, "A *joke*, dear sister. A mere jest."
Celestia chuckled, "Your sense of humor is better than mine sometimes."
Flux felt as though he was in the most awkward position possible; party to a conversation that he felt he had no business hearing, but Celestia and Luna seemed open to sharing their words with all on the deck, so he stood his ground, shuffling one front hoof awkwardly.
The Princess of the Sun leaned forward, mindful of the spikes on her Sister's armor, and shared a short but loving embrace with her. "Stay safe."
Luna returned the emotional gesture in kind, and offered an almost incomprehensibly kind smile, "Have no fear for us... Mind your own dark corners."
Celestia nodded, and without another word, made her way down the gangplank in stately fashion, still flanked by her stone faced guards. As the ruler of the day did so, Luna, the Captain, and the tawny Gryphon dispersed to their various tasks.
Flux stared after her, trying to reason out Luna's final farewell. He mumbled aloud to himself, "Dark Corners?"
The large black Gryphon surprised him with a response, his deep voice almost vibrating the teak of the deck beneath Flux's hooves, "Its an old Knight's expression. When you go into a dark cave, or an enemy keep, your foe will inevitably gravitate to the darkest corners. The newer turn of phrase is 'watch your back.' "
Flux cocked his head, and stared up at the metal plated warrior in confusion, "Why would she tell Celestia to watch her back? We're the ones sailing off into danger..."
The Gryphon laughed again, "Danger is everywhere little Pony. We're here because we'll most likely have to deal with the sharp kind. The Princess... she has an even more disturbing foe."
"That being?"
"Politics."
Flux winced, "You know? I think I'll take the sharp sworded foe before the sharp tongued one."
The Gryphon smiled, and clapped him on the back, a gesture that felt a little too rough for Flux's liking, "Wise words indeed Flux. I am Brelik."
Flux offered him a wan smile, "Nice to meet you..."
Before the Unicorn could elicit any more awkward backslaps, a loud whistle sounded, followed by the blast of three brass horns. A flurry of activity ensued; lines were cast off, ballast shifted, mechanical pulleys and locks secured, and the 'sails' were run out.
Flux ended up standing with Luna and Brelik next to the tiller; it was the only island of safety in the sea of activity that had swamped the deck.
Ahead, he could see several Pegasi, and the other Gryphon, flying in a waiting pattern at the mouth of the canyon. Flux tensed; the moment was palpably ripe with anticipation.
The launch of the new ship was going to draw attention, and be the topic of discussion at dinner tables for weeks, especially given the secrecy surrounding it.
Under normal circumstances an event such as the launching of a large airship would be surrounded by a much publicized buildup of ceremonies, speeches, celebrations, and banquets.
The sight of such an incredible work of art and engineering bursting forth with no fanfare or explanation was going to turn heads.
Luna gestured to the tiller with one hoof, "Captain, please proceed."
As the captain laid one hoof on the huge wheel, Flux noted that the connector on which it spun was itself set into a groove on the deck so as to allow it to be pushed or pulled to control elevation while in motion. Changing altitude at a standstill required dropping or acquiring ballast.
Beside the wheel, to the Captain's right, a compass resided in a binnacle, for steadiness, and next to it was mounted a rather intricate clockwork timepiece, for deriving exact navigational measurements.
The Captain cast a glance at Luna, who nodded. He bellowed, in a surprisingly loud voice likely cultivated over years of performing this same task over and over, "ALL SAIL BANKS, AHEAD ONE QUARTER!"
There was a slight groan of settling wood, and Flux watched in amazement as the massive fabric membranes extended out either side of the hull began to sweep, slowly, in perfect time, like so many great oars.
It was slightly ironic; but the propulsion power, when not under sail via the wind, was provided mostly by Earth Ponies due to their incredible leg strength. An uneducated onlooker would almost inevitably assume the entire crew was made up of Pegasi; but in truth the best crew was a diverse crew.
The great airship slowly, but steadily, slid away from the river overlook. As the front edge of the envelope peeked out of the canyon, the sun caught the gold trimming, scattering light in a million blinding rays that seemed to pierce the fluffy white clouds gracing the azure sky. A fitting herald to the arrival of the majestic beast.
As the tails of the envelope cleared the tighter part of the canyon, the Captain cast a furtive glance to stern, before shouting once more, "ALL SAIL BANKS AHEAD FULL!"
The rowers' efforts redoubled, and Flux was sure he could faintly hear the beat of drums below deck; likely a means for keeping even timing on both sides of the craft.
As the ship cleared the canyon entirely, the captain spun the wheel several revolutions to starboard, and pulled back on it gently. Since the ship's ballast was at neutral, the ensuing tilt in the sail banks lent a gentle upward gradient to the entire craft, propelling it higher.
Flux could see that the flight of Pegasi, and the second Gryphon, were not their only escorts. Three other, much smaller and more traditionally outfitted airships were also waiting for them.
He tilted his head, "Why the convoy?"
The Captain, eyes still locked straight ahead, snorted, "Ship this size? We need escorts. They carry extra supplies, ferry the unflighted to and from the ground if need be, and make scouting runs for us. We've got the Cloudspray, the Thunderhead, and the Azimuth. Good ships all."
Flux realized, with a start, that he didn't know the name of their own craft, so he put the query to the group.
As the great ship levelled out, and the escorts formed up; the flyers making a wedge before them, and the other three airships forming a diamond, of which they were the tip, Luna provided the answer.
"This is our first full scale, long distance expeditionary ship. This is the Ascendant."
Earth Calendar: 1/19/2102
10:33 GMT
Port of Madalena
The Azores
To say the city was in chaos would have been a grossly unjust understatement.
Puller sat, exhausted, on the skid of a dormant VTOL, sipping water from his canteen and taking in the morasse. The evacuation had ramped up to full swing hours ago, as Destroyers, cargo ships, and cruise liners arrived to augment the Yorktown's carrying capacity for refugees.
Colonel Puller had spent most of the first hours helping set up roadblocks, and checkpoints to herd and organize the shell shocked populace. Twice he had been called from those duties to tend to other matters; once to handle a small nascent riot, and once to help set up a medical processing station at a Hospital.
The latter was necessary as a dedicated queuing spot for those patients from the islands' hospitals too ill or injured to be moved in traditional manner. The processing station served as a spot to take them for check in, stabilization, and offloading onto a dedicated medivac transport; usually a stabilized heavy VTOL.
The riot had occurred as a result of tensions between some of the lower class living on Madalena's outskirts, and the fire teams from the Yorktown. Shortly after Puller's flight had arrived, the sky had been swarmed by the VTOLs of Yorktown, and the now accompanying destroyers. The craft brought a constant stream of Soldiers, med techs, engineers, and Military Police to the island, and in turn ferried cabins full of refugees back to waiting ships.
Already an entire cruise ship of people had been sent on their way, not to mention those who had already possessed departure tickets on civilian airlines, or simply owned their own long range yachts.
It seemed like alot of people out of context, but compared to the total population it was a drop in the bucket. Puller took a deep draught of his water, and wiped a bead of sweat from his brow; at least it was a start.
Luis, Fireteam Sigma's senior demolitionist, had managed to find time to pull down a news report on a DaTab. Apparently the story of the evacuation had broken on the mainlands of the world, and had very nearly triggered a panic. The official line was a 'geologic instability.' That alone was terrifying enough.
People in New York, Miami, London, Lisbon, Dublin, and Dakar were feeling the concern more than most; camps were being set up in these cities as receiving stations for the refugees. From the camps, the evacuated populace would be processed into their new Earthgov region as emigrants with expedited papers, and relocated as soon as possible to housing that was, apparently, already under construction.
To Puller, watching the constant stream of cars and foot traffic to the designated aerial and naval evac points, it seemed like they would never even reach that stage. Some part of him understood the unrest many locals were feeling; there were no signs of radiation as of yet. The anomaly hadn't even manifested visually, so far as anyone could tell. It all felt like a sisyphean exercise in foolishness.
The masses of humanity seemed to oppress the gleaming, wealthy, chic aesthetic of Madalena under a crushing weight of sorrow, confusion, and the stench of sweat.
It was ironic. While many of the independently wealthy could have called on private craft, the sheer volume of military traffic had led to the establishment of a no-fly zone for a two hundred mile radius around the islands. Anything that wasn't an official part of the evac was grounded.
That mean that, in a twist Puller found personally amusing, the rich and suit-clad were forced to share lines with the blue collar, as well as the tattered and poor. No class distinctions; no one received preferential treatment save for the sick or injured. Everyone else was processed first come, first served.
As soon as his water was finished, Puller stood, stretched, and strode purposefully back to work.
The VTOL he had used as a perch was parked outside the central evacuation command tent, which was set up within spitting distance of their original landing site on the capitol lawn.
The tent wasn't much to look at, but the interior was dominated by a giant mobile holotable.
This strategic map was manned round the clock by officers with a direct line to the Yorktown, and Military Command.
'The Big Top' as its unofficial codename had become, issued all taskings on the island based on up-to-the-second data, captured from satellites, CCTV, and team reports; then sifted and processed painstakingly by Yorktown's data analytics AI and personnel..
Puller tapped on the table's glass surface to get a young Lieutenant's attention, "Need a new tasking."
The Lieutenant glanced up, nodded, then pulled up a list on his portion of the table's display.
After running through several items, he tapped one, pinched it, then flung it in Puller's direction.
A moment later the Colonel's own small wrist mounted DaTab beeped twice to acknowledge it had received the file.
The Lieutenant gestured to a blinking dot on the map, "There have been reports of possible local hostilities at this processing station. We could use someone with a level head to handle it, if you're willing sir."
Puller estimated the trouble site was about three blocks from his current position. He nodded once, and checked to make sure the rifle on his back was loaded and ready, "I'll lock it down. Can you have two soldiers from my team meet me a block out on the east side of the zone? Lieutenants Luis Ramirez, and Victor Koenig."
The Lieutenant tapped his earpiece, "Will do sir. Good luck."
As the beleaguered man turned back to his never ending logistical tasks, Puller strode from the tent. He raised his left arm, and tapped the DaTab, strapped there in its waterproof shockproof casing. A map materialized. The colonel only needed a short glance to memorize his route.
Once he reached the nearest sidewalk, he took off at a brisk military jog, chanting a familiar double-quick march softly under his breath. His progress was easy; most of the people on the move were in the road, and all were headed in the opposite direction.
Once Puller began to enter the downtown area of Madalena, he gained even more room by cutting around the outside of roadblocks and restricted areas, eliminating other foot traffic from his itinerary entirely.
The city seemed eerily silent. The skyscrapers, slowly emptying out their tenants, workers, tourists, and shoppers, provided a nearly soundproof blocking against the groans, mumbles, shouts, and the thrum of motors that choked the main evacuation routes.
Behind the military blocks, the city was deserted; as if swept clean by the plagues that had exterminated the Mayans, or Incas overnight.
Automated lights, both within and exterior to the structures, had come on as per normal; a result of the sullen overcast skies above. The tang on the breeze whipping down the artificial corridors of the gleaming skyscrapers told Puller that a nasty storm was in the offing.
"This'll make life soooo pleasant." He mumbled aloud, the words rebounding off the concrete and steel surfaces around him in time to his hurried footsteps.
Puller slowed to a fast walk as he approached the appointed rendezvous. Shortly, he came upon a tall, broad shouldered man reclining in a deserted metal chair outside an equally deserted street cafe.
Lieutenant Koenig was the resident sniper on Fireteam Sigma; the Germanic man sported thick heavy trooper armor, an even thicker black military mustache, salt-and-pepper hair, and the best aim Puller had ever seen a living Human exhibit in the field.
Koenig stood and snorted, "Its going to be wonderful weather this evening. Perhaps a slight chance of showers coming in off the bay?"
Puller grunted, "Yeahp. Followed by scattered catastrophes. Where's Luis?"
Another voice echoed from a nearby alley, "Speak of the devil and he shall come."
A short, dark skinned Hispanic man materialized from the shadows. His vest, as per his position, was mostly filled with the trappings of a master destroyer of barricades, roadblocks, doors, and bunkers. "We planning to put a hole in something boss?"
Puller shrugged, and glanced down the street, "Maybe. Big Top says the nearest processing station reported potential violence, so they asked for backup."
Koenig checked the scope on his massive rifle, "So we're looking at a great deal of potential trouble?"
Luis smirked and fingered a coil of detonator wire, "Sounds just like our kind of party boss. Trouble means putting biiiig holes in things. I love trouble."