Luna's Hope - The High Seas of Equestria

by Midnight Sprint

Chapter 4: Thunder

The night passed with relative ease. While the tempestuous weather stalked the crew of the Hope on the horizon, seemingly ever-present, her crew seemed able to keep the stranded mare and stallion safe within the hull. They moved little for the first number of hours. Content to rest in the comfort of a true and maintained structure, Ginger Gold and Naval Orchard were more than happy to stay out of the way. Naval offered their services to the galley, as they were well versed in fruit maintenance and food preparations, but First Mate Headsail issued her personal insistence that the two remain confined to bed rest for at least one day.

Atop the ship’s main deck, Helmsman Lodestar kept his eyes on the sea, his sun-worn black scarf flapping in the salty ocean wind. While the morning sun began to crest, a bare minimum number of deckhoof ponies began performing their regular daily maintenance routines. The officers, and select sailor ponies had been summoned into the Captain’s Quarters for a meeting.

Captain Silver Stern’s hat hung on a rack, which itself rested beside his desk chair. He breathed slowly, gathering his thoughts before beginning the meeting. He crossed his hooves on the table, while First Mate Headsail stood beside him, to his left. The other officers and sailors stood before him around the front of his desk. The quarters were well maintained. Small, for what one might expect of a ship, but spacious enough to trot around and relax. The captain enjoyed the space afforded by his title, but only ever saw it as a payment for his duties.

“We find ourselves in quite the position, don’t we?” Silver Stern’s voice spoke lowly. “Under normal circumstances it would be appropriate to continue our initial course and resume our intended routine on the seas.” The ponies nodded, naturally they understood that this introduction was simply to assess the situation and provide a start to the conversation. He then continued, “Of course, this now hardly can be considered ‘normal’ circumstances, can it?”

Headsail agreed vocally. “Aye, Captain. I’ve spoken with the two castaways. This report of such violent and aggressive pirate activity is… disturbing.” Others agreed, as the gathering broke down into quiet conversations with one another about how to approach the situation. A pale blue Pegasus stepped forward to speak through the hushed dialogue. “Captain?”

“Yes, Skysail?” Silver Stern regarded. “You have a concern?” The Crowsnest watchpony nodded seriously. She stood to the left of the desk, placing her at Silver Stern’s right hoof side. She turned so as to address all the ponies present. “I understand that I’m just a sailor on this ship, but something bothered me. When I heard about the story told by the castaways, I couldn’t help but feel… nervous. The method of their attack was launched by Pegasus ponies.”

The Captain remained unchanged in his appearance, seemingly statuesque in his stoic guise. In truth, he was running a thousand scenarios in his head. Such a world as theirs was wide and full of countless dangers. Second Mate Broadside stepped forth, his deep voice providing more of an ominous presence than intended. “True. Why does this bother you, Skysail? Not counting one or two deckhooves on board, you’re the only Pegasus, and we’ve all been sailing long enough that no Pegasus on board could possibly be connected to their attackers. Am I right, Captain?”

The ponies, including Skysail turned their heads to the Captain. Headsail narrowed her eyes at Skysail, not out of suspect, but out of confusion. The Captain tilted his head, and urged Skysail to explain herself. “What I mean, Second Mate… Captain… is that their attack was the sort of weather control that only Pegasus ponies could perform. My concern isn’t about their ship… it’s…” Skysail trailed off, as she trotted slowly to the window, staring out upon the horizon. The gloomy weather that was ghosting the Luna’s Hope yet lingered on the otherwise azure waves.

The Captain understood, giving a minute for it to sink in for the other gathered ponies. Headsail nodded in understanding, as their eyes met momentarily. Broadside whispered under his breath. “No…” The Second Mate subsequently walked beside the Pegasus, looking out upon the same swirling stormy anomaly. “Their attack was allegedly eight years ago. Surely it couldn’t be.” Yet, the thought that weather controlling corsairs were slowly trailing the Hope like an eagle sailing far above a mouse was far too unnerving, even for a stallion as seasoned and hardened as Broadside.

Captain Silver Stern allowed various others to speak their minds, though the general consensus was to escape to more populated waters, in particular those patrolled by the Equestrian Navy. “Headsail,” The Captain commanded, to which the First Mate stood rigid at attention. “Set the Hope in motion. We make sail for Celestia’s Beacon. If we find that lighthouse, we can make port for the night, properly restock supplies, and prepare for a return to Equestria’s shores. Even if the pirates are watching us, it would be foolish to attempt to defeat them ourselves. Especially when we do not know the full extent of their capabilities.”

Having issued his command, the First and Second Mates immediately ushered the others out, having been dismissed. Ponies began hollering to one another, relaying orders and guesses about why the rush had been commanded. Rumors began swirling around the ship, while down below, Ginger and Naval looked to one another, wondering what the noise above could have possibly meant. Silver Stern walked with purpose out onto the deck where the wheel sat. Lodestar was overseeing the preparations with rudder and sails while waiting for his need to arise at the helm itself.

Headsail was staring out into the accumulating darkness on the sea. She had a feeling in her gut that Skysail was right. Such hectic weather riding continuously, yet controlled, while following was clearly unnatural phenomena. Something or somepony was commanding the tempest. And unless some spirit with a chaotic sense of humor, like the legendary Discord, was performing some heinous prank… the only remaining explanation was sinister intent.

Lodestar gripped the helm firmly, planting hooves onto the wooden handles. His neck craned backwards. “We’re movin’ out, Cap’n!” Yet, just as suddenly as the Hope’s helmsman relayed the start of their departure, three violent and resounding lightning bolts cracked from cloud to sea in perfect unison. A three-fold pillar of raw electric fury sent shivers down the spines of every last sailor onboard the Luna’s Hope. From atop the Crowsnest, Skysail circled in the air, before descending downward to the deck, standing beside her commanding officers. Broadside moved with purpose along the length of the ship, issuing and relaying orders, ensuring that the ship’s movements were crisp and expedient.

Drop Shot charged up the stairs which lead from the main flat of the primary deck to the command level where the helm rested. His single eye shined with uncertainty and fright. “Skysail!” The Pegasus turned to her comrade sailor. “Skysail… I saw it. Please tell me that it isn’t what I think it is. Your eyes are sharper than any cutlass or saber. Tell us… it’s surely not-“

“It is.” Skysail interrupted. Her eyes were warm. She felt a strange mix of sadness and anger, that her own kind could abuse their natural abilities for malice, greed, and savagery. As the officers and few sailors by the helm stared out upon the storm, they soon became all too aware that the coordinated lighting arcs were not simply a display of power, but a cry. It had marked the initiation of the storm’s movement.

Centered in the middle of the gathered black and grey clouds was a smoky silhouette of another ship. Seemingly only moderately maintained for appearance, intimidating size and tattered cloth draped the masts of the ghostly frigate emerging from the horrid weather. Above the ship, three figures darting vivaciously in unpredictable patterns, apart from leading just ahead of the ship’s bow. Hazy contrails of cloud and lightning wisped in their aerial wakes.

“Pirates.”