CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN
BOARDING ACTIONS
Standing on the unfamiliar main deck of the Wind Wraith, Gretel ducked as the heavy shaft of a crossbow bolt whipped past her ear and embedded itself in the dark timbers with a resounding thump. Around her, the shouts and screams of ponies had become a single deafening roar of naked aggression. A stallion charged her, swinging his cutlass in a deadly arc, but the Captain of the Revenge was quicker, nimbler and a hell of a lot sneakier. She grinned as she twisted and managed to flick the other pony’s sword out of his grip and span, delivering a savage kick that cracked the male on the underside of his jaw sending him sprawling across the deck. Another quickly took his place. Dear goddess, there were so many of them!
Their initial engagement had been swift, and deadly, the heavy crossbows of the Revenge dealing lethal blows amongst the packed crew on the enemy vessel as she was raked from stem to stern. In retaliation, the Wind Wraith’s own crew had shot dozens if not hundreds of steel tipped bolts at the Revenge, inflicting dozens of vicious wounds. The crew of the Wind Wraith clearly hadn’t expected to be counter attacked, with most of them lining the railings readying grappling hooks. The sudden burst of speed from the Revenge had sent them scurrying back to try and bring their vessel about, but it was too late. Captain Gretel’s ship swept in, sending swathes of death across the older vessels decks before drawing up alongside to disgorge her vengeful crew upon those who would dare attack their beloved Revenge. The red mare bellowed and charged her enemy, swinging onto their deck and unleashing her fury upon them. These bilge rats had threatened her father, threatened her, and threatened her crew, one too many times. Now…now was her time! She would take this bloody ship and that reeking sack of pus, Aeon, would kneel before her!
More ponies surged up out of the Wind Wraith’s hatches, surrounding the embattled Captain, but Stock and the crew of the Revenge fought back, pushing Aeon’s crew back. Stock moved up to Gretel, panting hard,
“There’s a lot of ‘em Captain.”
“The more the merrier, Master Stock!” Gretel shouted, ducking another incoming swing. She thrust her own sword, feeling the impact as it found its mark, “Any sign of that bloody cutthroat Aeon?”
“Not yet.” Stock rumbled, bucking a smaller male in the chest, “He’ll be here somewhere though.”
Gretel’s ponies pushed on, forcing the crew of the Wind Wraith back more and more. Dear goddess, she thought suddenly, they were winning! She turned to her crew, their faces tired but alive with the fire of adrenalin and the enthusiasm of their Captain.
“Come on boys!” she yelled, “We’ve got ‘em now! Wahoo!”
The howls, neighs, whinnies and bellowing was too much for the beleaguered crew of the Wind Wraith. One by one, the disillusioned and defeated crew began to drop their weapons and sink to their knees in submission. It was infectious; moments later the fighting had all but stopped, leaving the stallions and mares of the King Sombra’s Revenge standing in shocked silence upon the deck of their nemesis, the Wind Wraith…Aeon’s ship…
Gretel looked up suddenly,
“Stock!”
“Aye, Captain!”
The red coated mare grinned menacingly, “Find that rat, Aeon! Bring him here, I want to see that piece of filth grovel at my hooves.”
“Oh, I don’t think there’ll be any grovelling at anypony’s hooves, ‘Captain’ Gretel.” A wheedling voice called out, “At least not by me.”
Gretel’s heart sank. She recognised that voice, that snide, knowing whine that only one pony she’d ever met seemed to have…
“Aeon.”
She trotted over to the side of the deck and stared over at the Revenge. She closed her eyes and let out a breath. How had that…?
“CYCLONE!” Gretel jumped in surprise as Stock suddenly charged up beside her and leaned over the railing, his voice booming out with a deadly edge she’d never heard from him before, “You BASTARD! If you touch a hair on her, I’ll cut your black heart out!”
Even Gretel quailed at her first officer, but Aeon was right…he’d out manoeuvred her. Now he was standing aboard her ship with a sword to the throat of her Bosun and a barrel of what she recognised all too well. Two of Aeon’s crew stood beside him, one with a length of cord and another with a lit lantern. The threat was all far too clear, and Aeon’s self assured smirk said more than his words ever could,
“Surrender your ship, Captain Gretel” he sneered, “or I’ll slit the throat of this pretty little birdy.”
Before she could reply, Gretel found herself ducking as her Ships Master, lost in a haze of desperate fury, backed up and with a single bound, leaped across the gap between the ships, landing heavily on the deck of the Revenge. His sword gleamed as brightly as his eyes as he advanced on his target.
Gretel’s heart was in her mouth, “Stock! No!”
“Stop right there!” Aeon screeched, “You take one more step and you’ll be seeing your pretty polly here in the afterlife!”
Stock froze. His eyes…dear goddess, Gretel had never seen such anger, such raw hatred. In a funny way, she felt a little jealous of the mint green mare. To have somepony love you so much, to want to protect you to the very end…it was agonisingly romantic. She shook her mane. This situation was far too volatile,
“Don’t be a cock, Aeon. You kill her and Stock will kill you too.” She pointed at the barrel, “Your crew there, are you willing to sacrifice them as well?”
“I don’t think you’ll risk harming your ship, Captain Gretel,” Aeon shouted back, “now do as I say or I’ll blow this mouldering hulk to the eternal herd!”
“Are you completely insane?” Gretel snarled, “You’re on board the same ship, you idiot!”
“Insane?” Aeon laughed, “Maybe, Gretel, but are you willing to take that risk?”
The yellow coated Master at Arms walked up beside her Captain, her voice low so only she could could hear,
“Cap’n…I’ve got some ponies at the bow, ready to go across. If they keep low, we can…”
“Wait!” Gretel held up a hoof as movement caught her eye on the deck opposite. Apparently Aeon had noticed it too.
There, trotting up the steps to the quarterdeck was a certain indigo stallion carrying a notepad, quill and floating a half eaten sandwich in the purple glow of his magic. He stopped and looked across at Gretel…and waved,
“I say, this really is all most exciting!” he called to her happily, “I hope I didn’t miss too much, but I was absolutely starving!”
“Who?! WHO IS THIS?” Aeon gasped staring at the sandwich eating newcomer, “He’s…blistering buggering hell! It’s a unicorn! Kill it, KILL IT!”
Gretel watched in horror as Aeon’s ponies dropped what they were carrying and drew their swords, charging Strata who was…making notes?!
In a flurry of movement, Stock was on them, taking one of them down effortlessly whilst the other disappeared over the side with a blood curdling scream. Aeon backed up, his sword shaking in his hooves as the unconscious Cyclone began to come to. Stock locked onto his target and snorted, his blade glinting red in sunlight,
“Time to die…Aeon…” he hissed.
“I warned you!” The silver coated stallion shrieked, “I’ll…”
Everypony watched in open mouthed amazement as the Wind Wraith’s Captain’s sword was suddenly enveloped in a brightly glowing purple light. To Aeon’s horror, the magical glow effortlessly began lifting his sword up and away from him, floating higher and higher into the air. His grip slipped helplessly as he desperately tried to grab the weapon, but it was now simply too far away. With a final thump, he landed back on all fours, staring in abject hatred at the smiling unicorn and the imminent death that was Stock.
Gretel saw the danger, even as Aeon lunged for the lantern, but it was too late. With a cry of crazed triumph, the Captain of the Wind Wraith opened the fallen lantern and lit the fuse of the explosive barrel. Stock, his attention diverted by Cyclone, tried to reach it only to be bucked hard in the muzzle by the wild eyed Aeon,
“Finally!” Aeon screeched, “FINALLY! I WIN! I…”
Gretel stared in horror as the fuse burned down, the struggling figure of Stock, the raving mad form of the Wind Wraith’s Captain, and the fallen Cyclone. It was over, she’d lost…
A blast of wind suddenly blew across the decks, the sheer power of it making the two vessels lurch and creak alarmingly. Along with many of her crew, Gretel was knocked off her hooves but managed to see just long enough to watch the ranting and howling figure of Aeon flung bodily across and over the quarterdeck of the Revenge, together with the hissing and spitting barrel. Time felt like it was standing still…
“EVERYPONY DOWN!”
A bright green flash lit the sky around both sky galleons, immediately followed by a sound like a deep thunderclap booming out around them causing the ships to shake and groan. Gretel’s ears rang from the deafening blast, but even from the deck of the Wind Wraith she could sense the fear and then wash of relief emanating from her ship. This one though, this alien vessel beneath her, didn’t have the same feel to it, it was like it was…dead, somehow. She blinked and picked herself up, looking over at her beloved Revenge. Cyclone was sat there on the quarterdeck where she had been dropped by Aeon, wrapped in the forelegs of a relieved Stock. The fellow looked stricken, his eyes squeezed tightly shut as he rocked her back and forth. For a horrible moment Gretel felt a surge of panic…until she saw Cyclone looking back up at her with an expression of helpless exasperation. She smiled, the mint green pegasus had better get used to it!
The Master at Arms trotted up, “Captain Gretel, we’ve something below you might want to see.”
Sheathing her sword, Gretel followed the large yellow mare down into the bowels of the Wind Wraith. The first thing that hit her was the smell…it stank. Urine, vomit, excrement; dear goddess how could anypony live in such vile conditions? She had to stop a moment, her stomach was heaving.
The Master at Arms leaned a hoof on her shoulder, “Captain?”
Gretel raised her hoof, “Give me a minute, Cleat.” Her earlier elation draining away, she began to wish she didn’t have such a sensitive nose, “Good goddesses, can’t you smell that?”
Cleat looked back at her, “No sense of smell Captain.” She held her hoof up and tapped her nose with a toothy grin, “Took a blow right on the muzzle when I was younger. Haven’t smelled a damned thing since.”
“Well count yourself lucky!” Gretel snorted, “I don’t know how the crew aren’t puking their guts out or dying of sickness like bloody flies.”
Cleat pushed open a door at the bottom of the stairwell. The large locks on the ancient woodwork suggested the late Captain doubted the integrity of his crew. Either that or…
“Oh goddess…” Gretel closed her eyes and shook her head in disbelief.
Cleat trotted over to the griffin who was manacled to one of the numerous sets of chains that lined the walls and sitting in a pile of filth that had clearly been there from the previous prisoner. No, Gretel thought bitterly…slave. She fought back the urge to scream in impotent hatred at the world,
“Get her down from there for the goddess’s sake, Cleat.”
“Aye, Aye, Cap’n.”
The poor creature collapsed into the outstretched forelegs of the large Cleat who, with help of the Captain, half dragged, half carried the semi-conscious griffin out of the darkness and towards the light.
“Let’s get her up to the quarterdeck and give the poor bugger some air.” The Captain huffed, as they heaved the all but lifeless griffin up the steps, “Get Doc, Cleat, and for the goddess’s sake, hurry.”
“Doc! DOC!” Cleat shouted, “Where the hell are you?!” She bobbed her head respectfully, “I’ll go find him Captain.”
The griffin was barely breathing. Her eyes were closed tight shut, but much to the relief of the Captain, at least she was alive. Gretel had seen ponies like this before, two in particular, but at least they’d managed to escape that living hell. This creature of the other hoof…
“Anata!” A shout from the main deck caught Gretel’s attention and she down to see the feathered form of the griffin that had unwillingly ‘aided’ in their escape, shoving its way through the mass of ponies and up to the quarterdeck, “ANATA!”
The gasping, frantic griffin grabbed the fallen creature and held it in his…Gretel shook her head…damn it all! She’d have to stop thinking about these creatures as ‘things’. No, these weren’t mindless, faceless beasts…this was a father, a father whose daughter lay in his arms, barely alive. Her heart stirred as the griffin male looked up into her eyes with his strange avian orbs, fear and hope warring within their depths.
“Please…Captain! Can’t you do something?”
Gretel went to open her mouth, stopping short as a large black bag full of medical equipment thumped down onto the deck beside her,
“Damn it all, move will you!” Doc snapped, “Give me some bloody room,” he glared up at the male griffin, “that means you too! Are you deaf?”
Cleat, gently, which Gretel noted meant more of a ‘grapple’, moved the distraught father away while the frowning doctor went to work. At his direction, water was quickly brought over and the young griffin girl was washed down while Doc examined her. He shook his head in dismay, “Animals…” he muttered, taking out a small bottle of blue crystals. He lifted the girl’s head and passed the open bottle under her beak. Suddenly, the griffin female jerked, her eyes flying open in shock. Doc held her down, shaking his head,
“It’s alright, you’re safe now,” he said comfortingly, “you’re with friends.”
“NO!” She shrieked, “No! Father! FATHER!”
The male griffin broke free of Cleat and rushed to his daughters side, tears pouring from his eyes,
“Anata! Oh, thank the gods you’re safe…” he reached for her, but Doc held out a hoof,
“Gently! Good goddesses, griffin, look at the state she’s in”
“I…” The male paused, then nodded slowly, “I understand, thank you doctor.”
Gretel looked up at Doc, “How is she?”
“Not good,” Doc said quietly, “She needs proper medical treatment. They’ve…done things to her, Gretel, you know what they do to…”
“-I know, Doc,” Gretel replied bitterly, “Just…” she turned to the father, “Do you have a medical facility on the island?”
“Of course!” the griffin replied.
“Master Stock!” Gretel shouted, “If you would be so kind as to release my Bosun, would see to organising a crew for both ships and freeing them? We need to get the wounded down to the island, as quickly as possible.”
The large brown stallion looked up from the quarterdeck of the Revenge, but not before his gave Cyclone a quick kiss on the forehead,
“Aye, aye, Cap’n.”
Quickly, the two ships were organised with Stock being placed in temporary command of the Revenge while the crew of the Wind Wraith were unceremoniously shoved into the hold of their own ship at sword point until Gretel could decide what to do with them. Even the officers of the old ship had been stuffed into the reeking room, much to their chagrin. Gretel’s unsympathetic glare had quickly stopped any more complaining.
Dockside, the Wind Wraith, piloted by her own helmspony, the only one of her original crew allowed on deck, rocked as the mooring lines were made fast fore and aft. A large contingent of armed and exceptionally angry looking griffins awaited them, their crossbows and wickedly sharp looking spears gleaming in the sunlight. Gretel looked on, wondering how much that lot would sell for. If nothing else, it was a good sales pitch, she thought to herself sarcastically.
A loud thump announced the lowering of the gangplank and several of the griffins on the dock walked forward, stopping just short of bottom, but clearly in a state of angry agitation. A silver feathered stepped forward, calling up to the ship in his squawky voice,
“Ahoy, Wind Wraith.”
Gretel stood up and waved a hoof, turning back to the gold speckled griffin currently helping the doctor clean his daughter’s filth soaked body,
“I think they’ll want to speak to you.”
Nodding solemnly, the griffin stood and walked to the side, calling down to the others,
“Platinum, fetch a stretcher and the doctor immediately. I want our medical facilities made available to all these ponies as well. Oh, and Platinum?”
“Yes, Lord Rapere?”
“Have those ‘other’ ponies arrested. If they resist, you have my permission to eliminate them.”
Gretel smirked to herself. She’d like to see the look on Impulse’s face when the guards caught up with him. Personally, she’d much prefer to see him ‘eliminated’, but a sound flogging would do…for starters. Right now though, she had more immediate concerns,
“Chips!”
A Turquoise mare waved over to the Captain,
“Aye, Cap’n?”
“Come with me.” Gretel, turned to Doc, “Take all the injured to the island’s facilities if you think they need it, Doc.” She shook her head, “Even the Wind Wraiths crew…I suppose”.
Doc rolled his eyes, returning to take charge of his griffin patient.
Gretel nodded to the griffin, “Well, Lord Rapere, if that is your real name, I believe we will need to conclude our business.”
“Yes, Captain, indeed,” the griffin replied, watching his daughter loaded onto a stretched and carried down the gangplank, “For now though, please, accept our hospitality. I shall make all our repair facilities and stores open for your use. No fee, of course.”
“And our ‘other’ agreement?” The Captain asked pleasantly.
The griffin lord bowed his head, “I don’t renege on agreements, Captain. You shall have your two hundred barrels. For now, please, my home is your home. You and your crew have more than earned a rest. May I recommend our mineral baths, I find them particularly rejuvenating.”
Lord Rapere bowed and turned to leave.
Gretel lifted a hoof to stop him, “Lord Rapere? You did say ‘mineral baths’, right?”
“That’s right,” he replied, “there’s a source of mineral water nearby which we use for bathing and washing.”
“Really?” Gretel tapped her hoof against the chin in thought, “Would you be able to spare a little?”
Rapere’s brow drew down and he suddenly barked out a laugh,
“Ha! Of course, Captain! Use as much as you like!”
He bowed again and trotted off down the gangplank where her quickly took wing with his escort and flew off after his daughter.
Gretel trotted down the gangplank to the dock where Cyclone was organising repair work, “Bosun, how many deck scrubs do we have aboard?”
“Deck…scrubs? I…” the green mare scratched her head, “I don’t know, Captain. Enough for routine maintenance I would say.”
“Well, get the lot and see if there’s any aboard that flying craphouse too.” Gretel cocked her head towards the Wind Wraith, “You’ll find plenty of willing volunteers in her hold, and hot water from our griffin friends.” She waggled her eyebrows at the mint green mare, “Make the buckers clean her from stem to stern, Bosun. That’s going to be the cleanest ship in the Amethyst Fleet.”
“Amethyst Fleet, Captain?” Cyclone asked raising her eyebrows.
“Aye,” Gretel laughed, “I think I’ve been hanging around that weird unicorn too long, but hell, why not?” She grinned widely, “She’ll be needing a new Captain too…”
Gretel turned to the Turquoise coloured mare behind her, “Come on then Chips, lets see if we need to make any repairs to my darling’s hull. I have a horrible feeling she’s covered in Aeon’s of dirt.”
Cyclone stared after her Captain, the red mare’s laughter was infectious, and the crew responded to her in kind. She was a good Captain, and although she didn’t always agree with her, she was still her friend. If nothing else, she had one good reason in this world that she owed the Captain everything for…
“Bosun?” Stock trotted up to her, “We need to…Mmmph!”
Mint green legs threw themselves around his neck and dragged him into a deep kiss that took the surprised stallions breath away. Before he knew it, he was shoved away by the grinning mare,
“Yes?”
“I…” Stock’s ears twitched furiously, “uh…oh, bugger it…!”
Cyclone’s laughter joined that of the others. It was going to be a good day after all.
*************************
Night on the island was incredible. With being so high above the ground and with the thick cloud layer, the light of the setting sun was like fire dancing across the whitewashed buildings. The bath house was full tonight, the first time it had ever played host to so many, and a different species at that. Rapere had indeed been true to his word; the hold was full, the Wind Wraith secured, and the water…well, there was only one word she could think of,
“Divine…”
“Captain?” Cyclone asked looking up at her in concern.
“Oh…shush,” Gretel sighed, “just Gretel, Cyclone, please. I don’t want to think about…” she moaned softly as the bath water’s healing warmth soaked through her aching joints, “…anything...at…all.”
Gretel’s mind began to drift away on a soft and very fragrant cloud of delicious warm fluffiness. All her cares, all her worries…none of them meant anything. Soon, when all this business with the barrels was concluded, she’d find that silly unicorn, and then…she sighed, no…not tonight…
“…and then the Empire simply vanished, ‘POOF!’ Just like that!”
Oh goddess, she knew that voice…
“…about the ship’s heart?”
And that one!
Gretel opened an eye, peering up at the aghast Cyclone as an indigo unicorn climbed into the bath with them as if he didn’t have a care in the world,
“Evening ladies!” he chirped.
“Captain, Bosun…” Doc slipped in beside his newly acquired friend.
“Well, according to ‘A Treatise on Aerial Magics’,” Strata explained, “the ship itself is part and parcel of…”
“-EXCUSE ME!”
Doc and Strata looked up in surprise at the livid figure of the Bosun who had gone a luminous shade of red. Doc raised an eyebrow,
“You may want to get out, Bosun, you’re looking a little flushed.”
“WHAT?!” Cyclone nearly exploded, “What are you doing in here?! There’s mare’s bathing!”
“Perhaps you didn’t see the notice?” Doc said patiently, “It’s a communal bath.”
“Captain!” Cyclone stammered, “Please! Say something!”
Gretel closed her eyes and groaned, “Shut up, all of you or have you thrown in the brig.” She thought for a moment, correcting herself, “The Wind Wraiths brig.”
That shut them up. Gretel winked at Cyclone who sank to her haunches, the water just touching her muzzle as she sulked. The Captain couldn’t help but chuckle to herself, but…wait a minute, she was forgetting something wasn’t she? What the hell was it? Suddenly the image of the unicorn on her deck flashed into her mind, the unicorn…using magic!
Gretel shot to her hooves in a plume of water, “YOU! You bloody menace!” advancing like some demon from the deep upon the startled unicorn, the Captain’s eyes flashed angrily, “I told you about using magic on my ship! You could have killed us all!”
Doc held up a hoof,
“Actually Gretel, he sa…”
“-And you can shut up as well!” Gretel snarled, “You and him are as bad as each other!”
“Now come on!” Doc sputtered, “I hardly think that’s fair!”
“Oh belt up!” Gretel snapped, grabbing Strata’s shoulders and pushing him up against the edge of the bath, “And as for you…Mister Strata, I ought to have you flogged!” she took a breath, “However…since you technically saved our bacon out there, I am willing to overlook this ‘incident’, for now. Let me say one more thing though,” Her large eyes bored into his, “If you ever…EVER use magic aboard my ship again, I will personally turn you into a kebab. Do I make myself clear?”
“Crystal!” Strata squeaked.
“Good…”
Gretel shook her wet mane and stretched out once more. It was hopeless really, wasn’t it? No matter what she did, wherever she went, there was always something to do, or some sort of bloody problem. Strangely however, she didn’t seem to really mind. These ponies, and in a peculiar way, even the bizarre Strata, were all a part of her family. Well, maybe not Strata. Sooner or later he’d have to go home or she’d end up throttling him…in a nice way of course.
“What news on the crew?” Gretel asked.
“Recovering well,” Doc replied, “surprisingly no fatalities, but some serious injuries as you know. Our griffin friends have some very advanced healing potions and magic here, otherwise we probably would have lost a few of them.”
Gretel nodded to Cyclone, “The Wind Wraith?”
The Bosun wiped her muzzle and leaned back, avoiding the gaze of the two males, “Stock and an armed guard are making her old crew clean her round the clock. I’ve no idea how long it’s going to take, but the water coming out of the bilges stank like it had belched straight from the arse end of Hades.”
“Nicely put, Bosun” Gretel chuckled, “Now, if you don’t mind, I’m going to get out and dry off.” She turned her gaze on the two stallions, “If I catch either of you looking…”
The two looked away quickly as Gretel, rapidly followed by Cyclone, left the bath.
Outside, the air was cool and fresh, the wind picking up her mane and sending a tingling feeling down her neck. It felt good against her fur, invigorating and so…alive somehow. Gretel had left her overcoat and hat with the others to bring to her cabin later, preferring to experience the night here to its fullest on her way back to her beloved ship.
“You know, we could have stayed in the guest rooms don’t you Gretel?” Cyclone observed.
Gretel shrugged, “I know, but home is home, and you can’t beat a kip in your own bed.” She gave Cyclone a wink, ”Especially with a warm stallion beside you, eh?”
The mint green mare blushed and then smiled,
“Aye, Cap’n.”
“Speaking of Stock,” Gretel said conversationally, “shall we pop up and see how he’s getting on?”
Cyclone balked suddenly, “Captain, I…”
“Hmm?”
“Do I have to?” The Bosun’s ears flopped, “That ship, its…”
“What about it? It’s a…” Gretel stopped suddenly. How could she have been so blind?! She cleared her throat, “Cyclone, was that the ship you were…?”
“I don’t know,” the green mare said distantly, “Its just that, when I look at it, I keep having flashbacks, pieces of memories flying around in my head.” She shook her help helplessly, “I don’t know for sure, Gretel, I was only a foal when they took me.”
‘Only a foal when they took her’…Gretel looked away, her anger rising as she remembered the state the two girls were in when they first came to her. They’d been brutalised, mutilated and…and…she took a deep breath,
“Cyclone, forget it. We’ll go back to the Revenge and you can see Stock in the morning.” She began walking away and suddenly realised she was alone. “Bosun?”
The green pegasus stood several paces behind, staring avidly at the ships in the dock, “Gretel…I…I can’t keep running from my past.” she shook her mane, “I lived in the shadow of my sister, her memory, for years - years I could have spent with Stock, and I’ll be buggered if I let bloody minded stupidity and pig headedness stop me again!”
Gretel turned to face her, “Cyclone, look, you don’t…”
“-I DO!” Cyclone suddenly broke into a full gallop, arrowing straight for the Wind Wraith.
That bloody mare! Gretel whinnied and set off after her friend. She was all too aware how sky galleons could affect a pony, but one with a history, and a bad one at that, could do untold damage to an already injured mind. She sped up, her yellow mane and tail flying out behind her. In truth, she didn’t know what would happen, if anything. The Wind Wraith felt dead to her, like a common wooden vessel - just an assemblage of wood, iron, rope, and sail cloth. Sky galleons by their nature were different altogether. Sure, they may look like regular ships, even handle like them when they were in the water, but they were…
“Oh goddess! Cyclone!”
Gretel was too late. The mint green coated pegasus could run like the wind and she’d already shot up the gangplank onto the Wind Wraith’s deck and was now lying in a crumpled heap, twitching and gasping.
“Cyclone? Come on, we’ll get you out of here…Stock! STOCK!” Gretel stared about her in a panic. Where the hell was everypony?!
“The…pain…” Cyclone whispered, tears welling in her eyes, “Captain…she’s in so much pain…”
The lumbering sound of heavy hooves on the deck announced the arrival of a worried looking Stock. He rushed over to speak but Gretel held up a hoof halting him as she spoke gently to Cyclone,
“Bosun, can you…feel her?”
Cyclone nodded quietly, “It…it just hit me so quickly…so fast. She’s been suffering for so long, Gretel…so, so long…”
Gretel didn’t like this. The Wind Wraith was a sky galleon like the Revenge, but older and with a far more disturbing history. The Revenge was like a mother to her, a comfort was she was lonely or frightened, but also a friend to speak to and a daughter to protect. Cyclone felt something here, where as she felt…nothing. Stock pressed in close to the red mare,
“Captain, I don’t know what’s going on here, but I don’t like it.”
“I know, Stock,” The Captain nodded slowly, “but somehow, she can sense this ship, the way I do with the Revenge. I don’t think it’s a good idea to interrupt her right now.”
“Interrupt her?” he asked in surprise.
Gretel sighed, “Yes. Look, Stock, I only know what my father taught me about sky galleons, and that was passed down to him from his family line. There’s something going on here, and after what happened earlier today, I’m starting to wonder if what I know is…flawed. We need to speak to somepony who knows about these things, one who understands more about who made these vessels.”
Stock nodded, “Strata.”
“Aye, Strata.” Gretel stood up and stared up into the starless, cloudy sky, “I think it’s time we had a little chat.”
*******************************
It was cold…so bitterly cold, as if the sun had never existed, not even as a memory. Her world was darkness, the cries of suffering and pain, the weeping, emptiness and lifeless horror…so much despair! She was drowning, falling away into the nothingness, the deep silence of non-existence.
“You don’t have to cry any more…”
The fear was everywhere, she needed to run, to flee, just…get away. The darkness was supposed to be her friend, her escape, but even here, it found her…
“You don’t have to be alone, I am with you…”
It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t meant to be like this! Those…those liars! They lied to her! She’d been free, alive with the wind and the flow of world’s breath against her hull, and she’d sang. Oh, how she’d sang! But then the greed began - the ceaseless cruelty, the screams of pain, the blood, so much blood!
“Share yourself with me, I will hold your heart safe and be with you…”
No!...no…cannot trust, never again, never to feel, never to experience anything ever again. To be alone was to be safe, to be protected from harm…
“Will you be my friend?”
Fear, wariness, distrust…
Maybe…
“Cyclone?” Gretel lay her hoof on her Bosun’s shoulder.
The pegasus was exhausted. So much for the re-invigorating bath, now the poor mare looked like she’d been to hell and back. Stock looked like he was going into conniptions with worry while beside them, the somewhat less than comforting figure of Strata sat making notes…Notes! Gretel gritted her teeth and gently stroked Cyclone’s mane as those big maroon eyes focussed on her,
“Captain. She’s hurting, like a frightened kitten. What these animals did to her, what they did to the prisoners, the slaves,” Cyclone brushed a tear away as Stock lifted her hoof, “she felt it all. Dear goddesses, she’s been tortured for years, countless years…”
Gretel smiled softly, “Bosun, come on now, let her be. You need to pull your mind away and think of other things. You can be with her in your own time, and hers.”
Cyclone nodded, shakily taking the hot cup of tea from Doc who had appeared with his now inseparable friend, Strata. The indigo stallion seemed lost in a world of his own as he muttered and mumbled incessantly to himself while scribbling away in his notebook. Gretel let out an exasperated breath; one day she was going to have a look in that bloody thing. Right now though, she needed to see what this fellow knew,
“Strata, what can you tell us about the connections between crew and ship?”
The unicorn flicked through his notepad,
“Well, it’s more of an overview really, the treatise on…”
“-Strata,” Gretel raised an eyebrow, “that will be fine. Please…continue.”
Strata blinked and finally put down his pad, “Oh! Um, yes, sorry. The, er, the sky galleons of the Amethyst Fleet, as it later became known, were created from only the most ancient forests in the land: the ones where the Breezies live.” He waved a hoof, “Inherently magical, you see.”
Gretel nodded, “Right…”
“Yes! But here’s where it gets interesting…oh! Thanks, Doc.” Speaking of magic, a biscuit had all but popped out of thin air in the eccentric pony’s hoof which he was now happily munching whilst trying to speak. “The creators of the sky galleons imbued their magic into the pony who was destined to be the Captain of the ship. Somehow, this created a bond between the Captain and the ship that became generational. I don’t know whether the creators ever envisaged their vessels would last this long though, as the ships were created only a short time before the Empire was banished.”
“Well that explains bugger all!” Gretel said irritably, “I know about the bond, my dad had it too. It doesn’t help with Cyclone’s problem.”
“It would,” Doc chipped in, “if Cyclone were a descendant of the original Captain.”
“And what’re the chances of that happening?” Gretel replied, “One in…oh, I don’t know, millions!”
“True,” Doc said reasonably, “But the Empire vanished a long time ago, and ponies produce ponies, produce ponies. You get the idea.”
The Captain shook her head in dismay, “It’s still a hell of a stretch of the imagination, Doc.”
“There is another possibility,” Strata added, waving his half eaten biscuit, “The records state that the creators were concerned about what should happen if a Captain unexpectedly died, or passed on without an heir. They said that a new Captain would be chosen ‘by the ship’.”
By the goddess, he even did the quotes with his hooves…Gretel leaned back and closed her eyes in thought, “That sounds the most likely then, but it doesn’t explain why the ship can actually ‘talk’ to her. To me, the Revenge is alive, she’s my family, but although I can sense her, as she can sense me, I can’t have conversations with her like you and I are having right now.” She nodded to Cyclone, “But it sounds like that’s exactly what’s happening here.”
The Bosun shook her head, accepting a cup of tea from the doctor, “It’s not conversation as you and I know it” she said quietly, “Its more, an ‘understanding’, a connection on some level I can’t really explain.”
“Don’t look at me!” Strata exclaimed, holding up his hooves at the Captains gaze, “I don’t have all the answers.” He scratched his chin, his voice dropping to a mutter, “…yet…”
Gretel gave herself a shake and got to her hooves, “Right then. I’m off to bed, and you too missy,” She bopped Cyclone on the nose playfully, “so leave her alone tonight Master Stock, alright?”
The dark brown stallion sniffed and feigned a hurt expression. Oddly, it didn’t seem to work that well on the big fellow…
“Oh, and there’s one more thing I want to know.” Gretel said, turning back towards Doc, “Who’s been stealing my bloody tea and biscuits?!”