//------------------------------// // Chapter 11: Captains need not apply. // Story: Sky Pirate Pip and the Dreaded Dreadnaught Die Großartige und Mächtige Trixieburg // by alt-tap //------------------------------// Chapter 11: Captains need not apply. Grand Admiral Twilight Sparkle ripped a steel plate from the hull of her nearly crippled warship. With furiously hot beams of raw magick she cut a message into the warped metal. “SPIKE!!!” she roared, glaring at the dead whale that was slowly rolling towards the edge of the flight deck leaving a trail of potato chips in its wake. Spike appeared in a flash and stumbled a half step from the sudden teleportation. “Ga! Okay! What?” “Send it,” Twilight commanded, thrusting the abused deck plate into Spike’s face. Spike took the improvised letter in his claws, puckered up and wrapped it in green fire. Hopefully Celestia was where Twilight wanted it to go, cause it was already there. ******* Guilvarren groaned into his long empty stein as the latest in a long line of annoyingly important ponies trotted out of the meeting hall and the next one took her place. His chair, no matter how finely it had or hadn't been crafted, was made for ponies, and was therefore a pain in his rump. Or so he’d convinced himself. It wouldn't do to be without a believable excuse when he inevitably got snippy with whoever was delaying his trip to the royal brewery this time. Canterlot castle did have a brewery right? Hunter’s mercy, please let the princesses have a brewery, or at least a decent rum cellar. The latest liquor barrier was a mature looking whitish unicorn. Her black mane was done up in a bun and she had one of those perplexing cravat-collar things around her neck. “Evening, Majesty.” She spoke like a scholar. He braced himself for a lot of words he was probably far too sober to understand by jamming his elbow securely into the hoof rest of the chair and planting his head on his fist. “Speak.” The liquor barrier turned out to be a liquor barror, and she levitated several dark bottles from a cart he had missed in the blur of sobriety. He immediately straightened up. “I thought you could use a brake,” the little spike-faced angel said. “I’ve brought you a selection of our finest spirits. You may have any or all, as suits your preference.” The gryphon king swooped from his chair and lifted the mare off the ground in a fierce hug, snatching the bottles from the air with his wings. “I could make love to you where we stand.” “No thank you,” she said, pushing his face away with a hoof while she wriggled out of his grasp and back to the floor. With a scowl on her face she trotted briskly towards the door, pulling the wagon with her magick. “The things I put up with for you, Celestia. I swear.” Just as the rumberror, or whatever ponies called it, opened the door, Celestia burst in through an open window with a chunk of stressed metal in her golden grip. Curtains of water fell from her soden mane and tail and gathered in pools on the marble floor. He decided he rather fancied her without her usual peytral and greaves. “Raven,” she said to the mare by the door, “reschedule the rest of the day for Der König and I. Inform all petitioners that we are discussing matters of diplomacy and will be unavailable for the rest of the day.” “Yes, your highness.” Raven noded and cantered quickly out of the room, slamming the doors behind her. Guilvarren took a long swig from one of the bottles and grunted in satisfaction. Whisky, good whisky. “Is your favorite project sending you ponds now?” Celestia, usually a good sport for such jokes, just lobbed the slab of metal at him and magiced a bottle of liquor out from his wing. “I was in the bath. Read that.” Guilvarren caught the object with a talon and began to read the letters that were cut clean through the tempered armor plate. He glanced up to see Celestia, the serene and unflappable princess of the sun, chugging hard liquor like a thirsty sailor and decided not to make any more jokes for a bit.                 -Celestia Project Sturmgeist is fully operational and in the possession of an unknown antagonist. The storm generator is functioning at approximately 800% predicted output. When we engaged it in battle it cut a portal into the dreamlands and escaped. Also, a distortion mortar was activated without authorization during a battle outside the House of Laughter and as a result my ship is in need of repairs I will be operating independently for now and pursuing any leads I can find. __Twilight. After he finished reading he looked at celestia with concern. “Should I be more afraid of what she says, or that Twilight Sparkle missed punctuation?” Celestia just glared at him. “Not a joke; she frightens me.” ******* The Seltenheit turned and quit the field with haste the moment it’s cargo bay door locked closed. The cargo bay itself was just recovering from the chaos. Several dozen damaged and destroyed autogiros were scattered across the massive room. Numerous ponies lay in post triage while teams of field medics and nurses scurried around tending to them and moving those in need to the medical bay. “Medic!” Rarity shouted between labored breaths, levitating an unconscious, and thankfully lightweight, Pipsqueak off her back and collapsed onto her belly. A pair of pegasi darted over with a stretcher and Rarity gently lowered Pip onto it. “I suspect a concussion and possible thaumic trauma,” she said, shooing them away with a hoof. “I need water and a damage assessment!” A stallion with a clipboard in hoof trotted to her side and bowed slightly. “Structural damage is superficial,” he said confidently. “The worst was several groups of-” Another pony silently darted in and deposited a large bowl of water in front of Rarity, who scooted forward to drink while her adjutant continued. “small assault craft. Casualties are more than I would like, mostly support crew, but the triage team says most, possibly all, should survive.” Rarity lifted her head from the bowl and gasped, wiping water from her muzzle with a foreleg. “Very good, Ramblon. Dismissed,” she said, still breathing heavily. “Tom, take us to the Flattern Schüchtern, full speed!” “Of course, ma’am,” the ship replied, it’s voice as mellow and soothing as ever. There was a moment of slight vertigo as the ship turned and gravity seemed to increase, then it ebed. “It will take some hours to reach her, even at best speed. I recommend you rest for the remainder of the trip.” “I can't rest quite yet,” Rarity said, struggling to her hooves. “Send down lieutenant Sarissa and officers Quickfix and Clear Skies.” “Of course, ma’am. You should be informed that Silverfish, Polistis and Carnifex launched with their boarding spider, and no authorization, some time ago. I already dispatched an agent for containment and recovery. Pinky Pie has always been a sympathetic ally, so there should be little chance of them being compromised, but with Twilight Sparkle in the area we can't be sure.” “Who did you send?” “Four Leaves on the Wind. His unique talents should make containment far simpler if anypony saw them. Also, Quickfix is already aboard the Regenbogen Flitzen, at the request of your sister who arrived by plane not long ago.” Rarity glanced at the little blue zeppelin and saw two tiny specks, one white and one grey, racing across the catwalk. “So I see.” She watched the specks rush to the elevator and slowly descend. “Ramblon,” she called, “intercept them. I wish to speak with my sister.” The adjutant did as told, meeting his targets as the elevator reached the deck. It apparently took some convincing to redirect the two to Rarity, but they did come. Sweetie Belle arrived first, Ditzy appeared dangerously fatigued and lagged behind. “Sis, we need to use your antenna,” Sweetie said. “We’re missing several ponies.” “I’m sorry, but we’re no longer in line of sight,” Rarity said. Ditzy collapsed to the deck and made a wheezing sound. “Are you going to be okay, Ditzy?” Ditzy lifted her head from the deck laboriously. “Dinky is still back there,” she said, making no effort to conceal her dismay. “We don't know where Pip, Apple Bloom or Ruby are either,” Sweetie added. “Pip is in medical,” Rarity said, helping Ditzy to her hooves. “I have agents in the field, I’ll send them a message to keep a lookout for the others. Are you going to be alright, Ditzy?” “Miss Doo,” The voice of the ship intoned gently, “it should please you to know that we are set to rendezvous with the Flattern Schüchtern before dawn and that she is already on course to the Everparty, presumably to provide medical support.” Ditzy struggled to think of anything else she could do, but her mind was too thick with fatigue. “Ditzy,” Sweetie said, putting a gentle hoof on her shoulder, “go get some sleep. I promise I’ll come tell you the moment we find her.” “Ditzy Doo.” A sudden wind and the fluttering of large wings from behind announced Dinar’s arrival. “Sweetie Belle. I heard you land, but could not find you on your ship. Are you unharmed?” “Were fine, Dinar. I’m glad you’re okay,” Sweetie replied, a relieved smile spreading across her face. “Did the book make it with you?” “Yes, yes indeed,” he replied, huffing from both excretion and fading adrenalin. “I left it with your tinker-tech in the vault.” “Perfect. Can you do me one more favor?” Dinar hesitated, his crest feathers ruffling in apprehension. “Is it safe?” “Yes, Dinar. Just take Ditzy to her room and tuck her in,” Sweetie instructed. “It’s the first one behind the bridge, port side.” “Of course,” Dinar said, delicately gathering the softly snoring pegasus in his talons. “Rest easy, my dear. We soar on stronger wings,” he whispered before taking flight towards the dry dock and it’s little blue occupant. “Gryphon!” Rarity called after him. “If you find a brown unicorn named Quickfix up there send her to me.” Dinar turned his head and noded in response, sparing not the slightest effort more than necessary from his task. Rarity returned her attention to her sister. “I’m assigning you a crew. I gather that Pip thinks he can make due, but I disagree.” “He’s mostly just terrible at recruitment,” Sweetie Belle clarified, “but he does have a bit of a trust issue.” “Ah, well, if he tries to argue just remind him that I trust you with them,” Rarity said as a parchment yellow pegasus landed beside Sweetie Belle. “If that doesn't do it, just remind him of who assigned them. Fear often works half as well as trust.” “You called, ma’am,” The new arrival said with a crisp salute. Her yellow-brown coat gave her an older look that was barely off set by her youthful voice. Her shiny black mane fell in a braid nearly to the floor and her tail matched its length. A steel grey officer's jacket and matching stockings drew a disproportionate amount of attention to her cutie mark, a partially drawn compass rose. No doubt Rarity’s doing. It was a rather nice cutie mark though. “Yes. I’m assigning you to that,” Rarity said, pointing to the Regenbogen Flitzen. “I want you to assemble a crew. Quickfix will be handling the engineers and Sarissa will handle marines, the rest is your responsibility. You remember my sister Sweetie Belle?” “I’ve heard stories, ma’am,” she replied, then turned to Sweetie. “Officer Clear Skies,” She said with a salute. Sweetie couldn’t help but wonder if the unconventional uniform was Rarity’s way of trying to get her to relax. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, I assume you’re the captain of my new assignment?” Sweetie smiled. This pegasus would make for an amusing contrast to, well, the entire standing crew. “First mate, actually. You’ll be reporting to Captain Pipsqueak.” “That’s her coltfriend,” Rarity ‘helpfully’ supplied with a playful wave of her hoof. Clear Skies’ face twisted into a mask of horror for an instant before she regained her composure, though she was still clearly uncomfortable. “I want a crew ready to go at least an hour before we reach the Flattern Schüchtern. This will be a permanent reassignment, so pack appropriately. Select your ponies for reliability and loyalty first. I will give final clearance for your choices. This is family business, clear?” “Yes, ma’am.” With a final salute Clear Skies flew off. As she left another pony, a unicorn Sweetie hadn’t noticed earlier, stepped forward. The newcomer's Rich, golden coat was mostly hidden under a light flak jacket, which was itself mostly hidden by her heavy steel barding. Her carmine mane lay flat and disappeared beneath her criniere, which came nearly to her ears. Her chamfron hung from a strap on her croupiere. Numerous sheets of wool separated the plates, making her movements surprisingly quiet for such a heavily armored pony. “Hay, Sweetie Belle,” she said before addressing Rarity. “Marines?” “Yes. One squad should be about right,” Rarity said. “We have two primary combatants on crew already,” Sweetie interjected. “Also, hi, Sarissa. How’ve you been?” “I’ve been good,” Sarissa said. “Details?” “Both unicorns. Dinky is a powerful force caster who specialises in heavy weapons and ground fighting. Ruby is an obfuscation caster who specializes in reconnaissance.” Sarissa raised an eyebrow. “You don’t mean Ruby Pinch, do you?” “Ya,” Sweetie confirmed. “Do you know her?” “Uh… sure, ya, we’ll go with that. Anyway, You’re a clarity caster, right?” “Ya.” “I think I have a unit in mind,” Sarissa said. “We’ll have a full artillery group plus one, between them and you, as well as a compliment of pegasi. Marines permanent too?” “Yes.” Rarity paused when she noticed a little brown spec darting across the dry dock's scaffold. “Dismissed.” Rarity tapped a hoof on the ground impatiently. Quickfix had just gotten to the elevator and was descending at an aggravatingly slow pace. Then a thought occurred to her. “Sweetie Belle, How would you like some extremely illegal technology to tote around for me?” Sweetie laughed. “We don’t exactly operate above board, but isn't there a better place to hide your stuff?” “It’s not just stuff, Sweetums,” Rarity clarified, shifting her stance to favor her tireless, clockwork hindlegs. “It’s an armed and armored combat vehicle, with crew. The best crew, in actual fact.” “Okay, You’ve piqued my interest. What does it look like?” “It’s a large, and by large I mean about 30 hooves tall, black spider with guns for fange and sharpened, sword like legs. If you find it it’s your’s. If you find the crew they’re your’s too.” So that’s what that was. “What makes it so terribly illegal?” “The crew are all changelings.” Ah. “So, why did you leave them behind?” “They launched without clearance. I didn’t know they were gone until a few minutes ago, and we were already making our retreat.” “Ah.” That completed the picture nicely. Something about exceptional combatants tended to make them disobedient at the most inconvenient times. “I’ll tell them it’s a punitive reassignment then.” “Ha! Silverfish will love that!” The sound of frantic hooves and heavy breathing drew their attention to Quickfix, who skidded to a stop just shy of colliding with Sweetie belle. “Sorry maha, haa. Wow, I’m, out of shape.” She huffed for a moment, catching her breath. “Sorry, I was distracted with- Wait, what  happened down here?” She looked around the cargo bay with wide eyes. Rarity’s snout scrunched up and she growled quietly. “Did you really not notice that the ship was under attack? What, precisely, had you so distracted that gunfire and aircraft inside the ship wasn’t enough to draw your attention?” Quickfix recoiled. “Um, do you really want to know or..?” “Rarity,” Sweetie belle said, putting a hoof on her sister’s shoulder. “I had her on a personal project. It’s at least half my fault.” Rarity glared for a moment longer, but she was too tired to keep it up for long. “Fine. Quickfix, you’re being reassigned to the Regenbogen Flitzen. Assemble a team of engineers and report back in no less than four hours.” “Yes, ma’am.” Quickfix turned to leave, but Rarity stopped her. “This reassignment is not punitive, but it is permanent. Don't forget to say your goodbyes.” “Yes, ma’am.” “Hay, Rarity,” Sweetie said, watching her new assistant engineer sortof run but mostly walk towards the bay’s exit. “Yes, Sweetie?” “I think we’ll need more beads.” “...How big is your ship?” ******* “Rest easy, my brave little falcon,” Dinar whispered, carefully settling Ditzy into a hammock that hung in the corner of the mostly empty room, strung tightly between the lower of three sets of metal eyelets. “The Huntress knows your face. Her starry wings will guard your dreams, and strike the nightmares down.” The room was fairly large. Stacks of hammock anchors occupied each corner. The middle of the room was featureless. If Dinar had to guess he'd say it was a pegasus aviary, though the ceiling was no higher than any other room, so maybe not. A strangely designed saddle sat beneath the hammock and a stack of neatly folded dark green blankets sat beside. Beyond those, the room was bare. He retrieved a blanket and unfolded it for inspection. It was heavy, and woven of roughly spun wool which tickled his talons ever so slightly, and smelled freshly laundered. With great care and quiet susurrations he wrapped Ditzy in the blanket. She murmured in her sleep, half a smile pulling at her lips. He touched his beak to her forehead and whispered. “There is another whom I need attend, but I’ll return quite soon, I promise.” Quietly he left the room and followed the hall aft. ******* “Alright, Cookie, we've almost got it.” Quickfix shifted her magic by the tiniest degree she could manage. She pressed her muzzle against the edge of the conference room's table, eyes mere inches from the box she was trying to open. Her little spider automaton followed the telekinetic command with slender, brass appendages, shifting the intricate clockwork of the box’s lock ever so slightly closer to open. A tiny flash lit up the inside on the lock and the clockwork spider collapsed with a crack and a hiss. Quickfix jerked her head back and looked at Cookie. “Really? Again? I thought we had it that time.” She magicked the remnants of a shattered rose quartz from a clasp the machines back and replaced it with another from the saddle bags that sat on the bench. “Dang, I’m running out of crystals. Stupid feedback runes. Who invented those anyway?” “At least I have you to take the hit for me.” With a sigh she got back into position and fed her little metal companion a spark of magick. Cookie rattled, shook and finally stood, returning to the task of picking the lock. “Whatever's in here better be pretty cool. This is getting expensive.” The lock was insanely complex, to the point where Quickfix couldn't understand how anything she would identify as a ‘key’ could possibly get all the pieces to the right places to disengage it. Cookie's tiny, multipart claws were just barely adequate, at least she thought they should be. She slowly moved the sprockets, springs and levers back to the state just before she hit the feedback. If only magick came in a smaller amount than a sparkle she could probably get it. Maybe if she could build something to step the force down by half a sparkle or so she could make it work. Dinar cleared his throat in the doorway. The lock flashed, the crystal exploded and Quickfix squeaked in surprise. She fixed him with a sour look. “I am sorry for the interruption,” Dinar said quietly. “Rarity asked I send you to her. She seemed to not be in the best of moods.” Quickfix yelped and darted from the room, A disembodied ‘Thank you’ drifting in her wake. Denar stood for a moment, taking in the room. Well worn saddlebags sat opened on one of three polished, high backed benches surrounding a large table. On the table rested a large, ornate box, shaped much like a rifle case. A postclassical Three Tribes aristocracy design if he identified the engravings properly. Beside it rested a cutting edge clockwork haemonculus of some sort. It somewhat resembled a spider or crab, but was clearly designed for utility, not style. Bits of shattered quartz littered the table, bench and floor, enough to fill his one talon and then some, and he had rather large talons. A rather nautical looking chandeliers cast a warm light over the room and made the crystal shards sparkle quite pleasantly. I suppose I should keep watch over this too. He sighed and made his way back down to Ditzy’s doom, stationing himself just outside the door so he could see anything using the gravity lift, but still keep an eye on Ditzy. I should probably have a talk with Sweetie about the state of security on her ship… Is she the captain? I would assume so, she seems sufficiently captaincy. I guess I’ll find out eventually. ******* Dinky groaned and rubbed her face on the ground. She knew she had blacked out as some point, but didn’t remember the air smelling of moss and flowers. Her eyes snapped open and she sat up with a ghasp. She was in a forest, a deep and wild forest. Beyond a small circle of near normalcy in which she sat there was no sense of direction or orientation, not even up and down. Her mother had told her stories about places where distance and time were metaphorical, and a stable mind could be a liability. She had always assumed it was theatrical exaggeration, apparently not. She closed her eyes and took a deep, calming breath breath. Step one: assess your surroundings. She was in some kind of stable space, though she couldn’t shake the feeling that it was shrinking ever so slowly. She was still wearing the combat vest. To one side she saw her canister rifle, and just beyond it, Ruby. She dashed to Ruby’s side, snatching her weapon up in her magick. “Ruby.” she shook her friend vigorously, frantically. “Ruby, wake up!” Ruby awoke with a start. “What happened?” She sat up and looked around at the uncertain landscape around them. “Where are we?” Dinky reattached her weapon’s sling to her vest and checked the chamber. Still loaded. “Everfree.”