//------------------------------// // 3: Parry // Story: Dreams of the Sky // by Blackjack488 //------------------------------// I stared at the locked, sealed, and pressurized doorway, behind which lay a void of emptiness all the way down to the Cloudbase. A void that should contain the Secondary Vessel. It was then that the full weight of the situation crashed into me. I was now stranded. Maybe even alone. On an abandoned ship. With a bunch of pirates who probably wanted my blood. I started to swear again, but stopped when I saw her. She was a unicorn mare, jet-black with an olive-green eyes and mane, levitating a rifle in the air next to her. Her horn was a little off, too, but I couldn’t quite place why. I was more concerned with the fact that she was not wearing a uniform, and that she had also spotted me right back. She shouted something I couldn’t hear, then jumped back a few steps before turning left down the hallways that would bring her right to me. Another shout sounded out behind me, no doubt the pegasus who seemed to want nothing other than filling me with bullet holes (and was also surprisingly bad at it). Needless to say, staying put was a bad idea. Except the minute I started to run for the nearest hiding spot I knew of, red-hot spikes of pain shot up through my hindleg powerfully enough to nearly knock me to the floor. Making a mental note that low adrenaline equals lots of pain, I took my suffering out on the pistol’s mouthgrip and limped at a drastically reduced top speed. I was cutting it pretty damn close, but I actually managed to pull myself into one of the Maintenance ‘Cubbies’ before they spotted me. Maintenance Cubbies were the bread and butter of an Engineering-specialization Naval Pony. They were little more than glorified pathways for vents and cables, but they went through the whole ship, were comfortable if you didn’t mind crawling on your stomach, and made for excellent hiding places. Something I was very happy about right now as I curled into the darkness behind an air vent, precariously perched over the ladder-hole leading down. Not a second too soon. The door slid sideways with a sharp bang!, revealing the unicorn mare from earlier. She didn’t look angry so much as annoyed, thank the stars, as she scanned the room carefully. Her rifle (a powerful-looking pump-action that excluded everypony but unicorns from its use with the lack of a mouth-grip) floated in the air next to her, following her gaze, suspended in a neon-green glow. She was wearing a thick flight jacket with short boots, along with a thin necklace (silver studded with small gems) tight against the base of her neck. And with the glow from her horn helping things, I finally placed what was off about her horn. About halfway up, it suddenly tilted backwards and slightly to her left, like it had been broken and hastily repaired. Her eyes swept over my hiding place, and I coiled myself up tighter to try and stay hidden. My muscles were really starting to cramp from holding myself still, especially after all that running. That on top of ignoring my leg, an action that was getting harder with each passing second, and I was on the verge of screaming. “She in there?” The voice sounded male, so definitely not the unicorn, but surprisingly soft-spoken for a pony so battle-scarred. There were a few seconds of pause, before the unicorn (Celestia’s mercy, she had a masculine voice! She looked like a mare, but I was starting to seriously doubt what I’d find if I checked under her tail) growled, “Doesn’t look like it. You sure she went this way?” “Pretty positive. And she had a broken leg, so she couldn’t have gotten far.” “Well, then, you won’t have any trouble finding her without me, will you?” “What!? But…she…she shot me!” “Oh please, you’ve had wor—“ their voices suddenly became muffled as the door snapped shut. But if I strained enough, I could actually make out what they were saying. Kind of. “—ave a dozen other ponies crawling around this junker, and an Engine salvage to pull off in a way that doesn’t plunge us to our deaths. So please, feel free to tell me why you finding and herding one injured mare to a Mini requires my help?” The silence was response enough. “Welp, good luck, and I’ll see you back on the ship!” I could just barely hear the sound of her trotting off, followed not long after by the sound of him grumbling and leaving. I let myself breathe a soft sigh of relief and removed myself from the precarious perch over the ladder into a much safer (if more exposed, though that wasn’t really relevant now) position. And now that I had the chance to consider it, some of their words struck my brain. A dozen, probably more, ponies left behind? I knew that was a fast evacuation, but I didn’t expect the numbers to be that bad. Did some ponies just not get the message or something? Or was the damage to the ship worse than I thought? And for that matter, how did they take the Philomena so damn fast? Here I was thinking earth ponies made ships tough, but at the rate that battle had gone, we may as well have been dueling an alicorn. A prospect made even more terrifying by the fact that there were no alicorns…well, not since the Calamity, at least. And all that tied back to the allegiance of this mystery ship. At the rate the Philomena went down, it’s a fair bet that this ship could wipe the floor with almost everything in the Republican Navy. So who in Tartarus did it belong to? Was it the Imperium? The Magistrate? Or just…a rogue ship? Smugglers of some kind? I could feel myself getting more and more frantic over this, especially since answering that question could very well spell survival or extinction for the UPR. So what--? “Whoa, Star,” I whispered to myself. “Just calm down. You won’t get anywhere by panicking.” Several minutes of deep breaths later, and I was surprisingly calmed. Not in a better position to actually do anything, but…calm. “” “HOLY SWEET CELESTIA!” I jumped nearly six hooflengths into the air, quickly aiming my pistol at— “Ugh…” My warning issued, I quickly laid my pistol on my back and helped the medical-zebra up the ladder. “” I looked back at my hindleg, where it was curled up as much as I could painlessly get it. “” With a little finagling, he was able to get a better look at it in the cramped space. He didn’t poke at it, thank the stars, but it was still annoying and kinda painful. “” he scorned. “ pegasus ” He mulled that over, clearly not happy with me still. “” “” “” I did some mental plotting. Medical was roughly amidships, and the Lower Airstrip was in the back. Theoretically, it wouldn’t be hard to visit Medical on our way out. But we also had to consider how many Minis were left in the hangar. Which, if everypony left was being herded towards the hangar like they said, wouldn’t leave enough for us. Ergo, it’s first come, first served with the Philomena’s Minis, and we’d probably be dead last considering the trip to Medical. That other ship, though… A smile crept onto my face “” From my perch on the top deck of the Philomena, I could clearly see the two guards next to the gangplank they were guarding. One was a tan pegasus stallion with a dark-brown mane and tail, while the other was a blue-ish-purple earth pony mare with nearly-white hair. And if I’m being honest…I expected their weapons to be switched. I mean, sure, battlesaddles are a pegasus-built weapon, and mouth-held weapons are definitely an Earth Pony thing, so on that level it made sense. But…a pony with a shy demeanor should not be carrying a rifle nearly as big as her torso. Just…seriously, what!? “Come ooooon, Rain, you gotta tell me!” the pegasus whined, clearly not taking his guard duty seriously. “Um…don’t you think we should…um…focus on guarding th—“ “Guarding from who, exactly? I don’t see anypony around!” He clearly didn’t have good eyesight or something. “There’s nopony here, so this is the perfect time!” “I…um…” “What’s your secret? Special training? Super-senses? Magical enhancements?” “Well…” “How the hay does having a dancing talent correlate to combat flight!?” Huh? Shuffling a bit, careful to keep one hoof on my collar and not bang my brand-new cast too much, I got into a position where I could see their cutie marks. Lo and behold, her cutie mark was a dancing shoe with the laces sticking up into a double-helix, though I was having trouble seeing it through that harness thing on her back (it must’ve had some kind of construct on it helping her breathe). By contrast, his cutie mark was a mechanical wing. A pegasus with a mechanics cutie mark? A fighter pilot with a dancing talent? These ponies just got weirder and weirder the more I looked. She was about to say something when they both focused on something else. I couldn’t see what they were looking at, but judging by their reaction, it was Inyanga being a wonderful diversion. “Hey you! Get back here!” The pegasus flew after him, while Rain-the-earth-pony flipped out the scope on her rifle and took aim. Kra-BLAM! Sweet, merciful Celestia! That’s not a rifle anymore, that’s officially a cannon! As she reloaded with the elbow-shove of a lever, chasing after my zebra-healer-friend, I picked my way down behind her as quietly as I could and started running for the gangplank. I did my best not to look down, but every shudder of the gangplank made me nervous. It’s not like I was scared or anything. Growing up in floating/mountaintop cities does a lot to cure a fear of heights. But considering the distinct lack of wings I happened to suffer from, falling was a very real and unpleasant possibility. But I made it safely onto the wooden deck of the mystery ship. Now all I had to do was find one of their Minis, steal it (somehow taking off without the use of an airstrip), meet Inyanga at the upper-aft obs-bubble, and fly off into the sunset like Daring Do herself. Except blue instead of gold. And no wings. And with a shield bisected by a shooting star, instead of a compass, for a cutie mark. And— I shook that train of thought away, instead looking around for the nearest trapdoor going belowdecks. Riiiight…there! In front of that mast with cones on the crossbars that I couldn’t figure out the purpose of. At least now I knew they all fed down to a pair of headphones, but its purpose still eluded me as I snuck down the ramp leading below. “Whoa…” The word slipped out of my mouth as I caught sight of what had been laying just below my hooves. Four bigger-than-a-pony, made-from-a-really-shiny-metal-I-didn’t-know, operated-from-a-single-console-with-insanely-complicated-mechanics cannons, each one capable of rotating and pitching on its own pivot, with new shells brought up via some kind of pulley system leading belowdeck. At the front of the ship, a small ramp led slightly downward and split toward two hoof-operated gatling turrets, both pointed outward through holes in the ship’s hull. Behind me was another ramp leading down to what looked like an engine room, and a walled-off section that was probably my destination. Credit where credit is due: these ponies may have been smugglers and outlaws, but they were seriously well-armed. Sneaking through the hole-in-the-wall that was a doorway leading aft, I found myself flanked on either side by radically different Minis hanging from clamps in the ceiling, accessible by a walkway that went halfway down the room before ending in a peninsula of walls. On my left was the typical Fighter Mini; a cylindrical thing with stumpy wings and an intake that took up most of its nose, armed simply with two machine guns and powered by a Crystalline Accelerator sticking out the back, with the Engine exhausting around the Accelerator. But on the right… Sharp-nosed, with twin intakes along its hull, leading into what looked from the outside like a single Engine and dual Accelerators all exhausting out the back. Blade-like wings folded up against its sides, and an open cockpit that let a pony feel the wind in their mane (presumably, it facilitated breathing with some Crystalline Construct designed for such). Armed with twin machine guns and one high-caliber cannon, and all painted teal-and-silver and tastefully embellished with that shiny-looking metal that probably made up the frame. It was, by far, the most beautiful machine I had ever laid eyes on. Until I looked over the controls. “Whaaat!? How is somepony supposed to fly this thing? Oh…oh, so the steering yoke is split into two levers…for some reason. Alright, so that’s that. This…does…you know what? I won’t touch that.” My mumbling continued as I looked over the seriously overcomplicated controls and gauges. Not only could this machine be simplified, but I was pretty sure it was crying out for such. Having ascertained which switches would kill me with a single nose-push and which ones wouldn’t, I settled into the cockpit. My forehooves slid neatly into place onto the steering…levers…while my hindhooves pushed gently against the rudder pedals. My stomach was settled comfortably against the seat, and I was ready to get this thing started and going. With a single, solid kick against the Starter, the machine gave a loud, long growl, which turned into a low-pitched hum echoing over a high-pitched whine. Headlights came on, and a thin, sickly-green exhaust started trailing out from between the Accelerators. I nearly cried at the sound…the feel…sweet Harmony, if there was an equinification of this machine, it would catch fire from my furious lust. Except…this room was closed. And even if it were open, the Accelerators would need some airspeed to kick in. Dammit. Wait… I took notice of a little panel of buttons and levers on the wall between the Minis. Maybe… I hopped out of the Mini and glanced over the panel. Four levers, two buttons, with half of which on either side of the panel. Hrm… I moved my hoof from my chin to the topmost lever on the right side. “Excuse me.” The voice nearly made me jump straight out of my uniform, a stern tone that demanded no nonsense and my utmost respect. I had to turn all the way around before I caught sight of its source. I took in the strange pony who’d somehow managed to sneak up on me. She’s a mare, clearly, but taller than any other mare I’d ever seen. The horn didn’t help either, adding nearly another hoof-length to her already imposing figure. Her coat was dark blue, to the point of being almost black. Her mane was just a few shades lighter, with a strange shimmer I’d never seen before, and braided into one long line for practicality’s sake. She’s wearing a dark brown trenchcoat, one that covered almost her entire body, overtop of a puffy white shirt. Perched atop her head was a stretched-out tricorner hat, adorned with a red-and-gold feather from what was either a weird hawk or a phoenix. Finishing the look were a set of boots, and a belt adorned with four slender swords and at least two pistols. Her glare was what got me most of all, though; a cold, calculating look through those cutting blue eyes of hers that seemed to flit between studying me and threatening me. There’s a long moment of silence. “U-um…hi there! W-W-Who’re…you…?” I already kind-of-knew the answer, but it couldn’t hurt to ask. She waited a brief moment before replying in that stern-yet-melodic voice. “I am captain North Star of the Moonbeam Chariot. Now,” her glare went from calculating to outright menacing in the span of a second, “who are you, and what are you doing on my ship?” A nervous chuckle somehow slipped between my lips as I slowly backed away. “Um…looking for the Head?” Her glare darkened, and then her horn lit up a bright silver. I backpedaled to try and flee, only to be rewarded with a stinging, tingling sensation hitting me in the chest. I don’t even remember hitting the floor.