Millennia: Eye of the Storm

by Thunderblast

9. Deployment's Eve

A gentle shower pattered against the windows, the street lamp outside shining in the raindrops as they rolled steadily down the glass. I sat there in the booth seat, closer to the wall and chin resting on the table, gaze fixed on the window as it had been for the last ten minutes since we stopped in to grab some dinner.

"He's still out of it," Silver said, taking his focus off of me.

"He will be for the night. Maybe tomorrow, too," Anchorage responded with a frown, ripping open a sugar packet and mixing it into his tea.

Silver's ears drooped a bit, glancing back at me. "Perhaps... it wasn't the grandest of ideas to bring him out here."

"He needed this, and so did we," Anchorage looked up, stirring his drink slowly with a straw. "It's been almost three months, and soon, we'll be underway. It'll be months more before any of us feel our normal selves again."

"Maybe you guys. I'm okay now, I've moved on," Nightpath added frankly, straightening his back a bit.

"Well, good for you," Anchorage scowled. "Not everypony had a grim past to help with the present."

Night's lips curled in a frown. "I'm sorry, Anchor, I didn't know Solar that well. I'm upset, really, I am, it's just..."

"You feel like you shouldn't be too emotional because he was not your friend?" Anchorage continued for him, still glowering with a brow slightly raised.

"If... that's the way to put it," Night replied, ears falling.

"Shameful," Anchorage turned his nose up, facing away and scowl holding. "You fought beside him, you watched him die. How can you not be—"

I raised my head, glancing at white pegasus. "Drop it, Anchorage, please. If Night feels that way, let him. Everyone has different emotions."

Night nodded at that, turning down to Anchorage.

The pegasus sighed. "So be it," then took a swig of his tea after a full minute of stirring.

"Hey, he's back," Silver smiled faintly. "How are you feeling?"

"What Anchorage said, I'll be better by tomorrow morning," I glanced away from the beige unicorn and back to the window, observing a pair of ponies beneath an umbrella walking past.

"That's good to hear, at least," Silver replied. "And, you know, I've been thinking guys."

Only Night's eyes focused on him.

"I joined to be in the Navy, and... well, you see, when I met Star, I got... a little too comfortable, you know?" Silver started, Anchorage turning to him now.

"I have just been pondering on it lately, I feel it would be best if I..." he trailed off.

I glanced across to Silver. "Best if you what?"

Silver frowned, eyes setting on the table in front of him. "You know what, now isn't really a good time to discuss it. Another time."

Neither of us paid much mind to it, rather questioning the status of our food and when it would be served.

***

After dinner, the four of us put bits together to rent a motel room for the evening, it being the only option atop another inn toward the center of town, a simple yet expensive one. We each had our concerns about lodging in a sleazy, probably roach-infested single-bedroom, knowing just how terrible cheap rooms can be.

In a way, it surpassed our expectations, walking into the room. Very small, with a bed, a nightstand, a small, old dresser, and a tiny bathroom with a burnt out light bulb, walls stained near the floor and one of the pipes sticking out of the ceiling, which was thankfully not dripping. Bright and early in the morning is when we'd hop back on the train to Manehattan, and finish up preparing for our ship-out date.

The motel's manager—more genuine than expected—provided extra blankets and pillows, realizing the four of us couldn't pack into a single twin bed, not that either of us wanted to in the first place. With my wonky patterns, in a bed or not, I was bound to miss sleep regardless. Doing so with three other exhausted stallions couldn't alter that in any sort of way.

Initially, it was Anchorage who concluded he deserved the bed. Being the only sailor among our little band, he felt that gave him the right to reserve the bed. Silver Edge came out next, then Nightpath. I outed myself from the argument, well aware of my sleep issues.

Eventually, we all agreed on letting Night rule the bed. After all, out of the four of us, he was the biggest, and the bed fit him just. What probably actually made Anchorage and Silver back out was a cockroach sighting under the pillow, or the possibility of one lurking the sheets. Neither of them truly desired dirtying their hooves, or themselves period.

With Night sprawling across the bed and stretching out, and Silver and Anchorage laying on their blankets on either side of the bed, I too decided to call it an evening, laying down flatly on a thin blanket and a pillow, keeping my clothes on to remain somewhat warm without the room's space heater working.

Slipping my cover down over my eyes, I closed them and relaxed on the pillow, hoping to drift off quickly this time.

Yet, while I sat perfectly still, eyelids shut and breathing steady, my mind kept going. Thought after thought, after thought, nonstop, for what felt like an eternity. Thinking on it, an active mind is probably what keeps me up for all this time, something I'd have to discuss with Pastel some time soon.

My ear flicked, catching the soft snores of Silver and Night having already passed out. Anchorage had always been the quiet sleeper, so it passed me entirely that he may still be awake, hearing me shifting about behind him while he lay on his side, facing Night's bed.

Over the course of a few minutes, I quietly sighed, forehooves spread at my sides and staring up at the dark space in my cap, then at the ceiling after flicking it off. For a solid minute and a half, my gaze fixed on the empty space above—or a yellowing stain masked by the darkness for all I knew.

Eventually, I sat up, doing so silently as to not wake the others, and sneaked out the door to the open corridor outside hanging above the first floor.

A gentle rain showered, trickling off the edges of the roof above and past the iron railing I leaned against. I frowned lightly, watching the rain fall in the light of a pole in the corridor of the C-shaped structure, pattering down on a plastic tarp covering the curve-edged rectangular swimming pool, having been emptied before winter's arrival.

A stallion quietly cleared his throat from behind, a door clicking shut behind him. I glanced behind, still leaning on the bars, finding Anchorage standing just beyond our room's door, staring with a look of concern.

"Everything all right, buddy?" He asked, stepping up to my side, not removing his eyes off once.

I blinked twice, exhaling softly, and turning to face the rain coming down. "Not as much as I want it to be."

"Is it about Solar?" he flatly asked. He truly couldn't have been spot on so immediately as he was.

"That, among other things. Where do I even start?"

"Wherever you like," he responded, opening a pocket flap and reaching in.

I exhaled softly through my nostrils, a frown remaining on my muzzle while my eyes set on the falling raindrops. "Pardon my language, but to start off, I'm getting fuck all for sleep. Two, maybe three hours every night, four or five on good nights."

"Have you done anything about it?" Anchorage questioned, bringing out a pack of cigarettes and a stainless steel lighter, though I hadn't yet noticed and kept facing forward.

"Melatonin, sleeping with and without clothes, even a breathing apparatus."

"Breathing apparatus?" He placed a single cigarette in his mouth, leaning his head down slightly to his hoof and the lighter, flicking the lid and lighting the flame.

"Yeah, ponies with sleep apnea use the—Anchorage!" I glanced at him, eyes widened.

He jumped slightly, eyes meeting mine, the lid of the lighter cutting the flame before the tip of the cigarette could begin burning. Quickly, he took the cigarette from his mouth and hid it behind him. "What?"

I narrowed my eyes on him. "Don't bother hiding it, I already saw it."

Anchorage sighed, bringing it back out of hiding, holding it in his hoof and staring down at it. "It's a new thing..."

"Not marijuana, right?"

"What?! No!" He snapped his head up, ice-blue eyes glaring. "That's illegal."

"That's why I'm making sure it's not weed," I rolled my eyes, resting my fores against the railing again. "Whatever, you do you. But, how long?"

"How long?" Anchorage blinked twice in a brief silence. "Three... weeks?"

"What kick started it?"

"I don't know, really. Just... walked into a store one day, bought a pack, started from there," he said, plucking the small box from his pocket, it being half empty. "Same pack. I don't smoke every day..."

"Right, right. But, I don't believe for a second that it just 'popped up'. What got you into smoking?"

The greyish-white pegasus let off a small, almost silent sigh. "One of... the petty officers stepped outside during lunch, he offered a smoke, and I took it."

I raised an eyebrow at that.

"Okay, so he was persuasive, big deal," he groaned, facing away, also leaning on the railing, having tucked the cigarette back into his pocket.

"But, why? You're the cleanest stallion I know these days. Not that I have a problem with you doing it, it just... surprises me. I guess you're just one of those ponies I don't expect to light one out of the blue," I glanced at him. "Who else knows?"

"That petty officer, Ashfall, a couple other sailors, but, that's about it," he responded, almost in a tone that made him sound unproud of himself.

Gently, I placed a hoof on his shoulder. "Don't take it so harshly, that's your thing to do, and your thing only. I'm not going to start judging now. Just, one thing?"

"Hmm?" He kept facing away, ears drooping slightly.

"Don't get too addicted. Too much, and it will kill you in your forties."

"I'm tryin' to stop."

"Are you? How?"

He sighed again. "I don't know. As long as I'm smoking every two days and not every day, that's a start, right?"

"In a way," I nodded. "If not, there are patches you could wear."

"I already have patches, they're on my uniform."

"On your skin, dummy," I nudged his shoulder playfully. "I don't know how they work, but, ponies who use them end up dropping tobacco entirely. Just a suggestion."

Anchorage slowly turned to face me, cracking a very small smile. "Thanks, Star. I'll give it a go when we're home."

I nodded, smiling back weakly. "Atta boy. Just know, this is all a personal suggestion. I cannot stop you from doing what you love."

"I love working on ships, not smoking cigarettes on a motel balcony," Anchorage responded flatly, his smile gone in an instant.

"You know what I mean," I said, gazing back at the rain, a strong breeze blowing one of the trickles of rain into my face, drenching it with cold water.

That at least brought a chuckle out of Anchorage, while I blinked my eyes and wiped down my face. Now I would be awake for a while longer with that cold shock to the nervous system.

***

Having checked out and grabbed a quite bite, then raced to the station platform by morning, we arrived in Manehattan just before ten, and back on base by eleven.

From there, the four of us decided to plan these 'day trips' in advance, when we each had more money in our pockets. Thankfully, we each hardly had enough to take a carriage across the river and walk the remaining two miles.

And finally, a well-longed for distraction: deployment navigational planning. At some point it was likely I'd need the Eclipse's navigational officer, Sea Watch, to help out and possibly spend another lengthy evening with the computer documents, that would later need printing off.

What came as a slight startle was a weather application installed on the system giving warning of a storm system far southeast of Equestria's coasts, with a predicted path to bring it toward the planned route.

Setting the work aside in a minimized tab for just this moment, I examined the reports of the storm. On radar and satellite images, it appeared as an abnormally large cluster of thunderstorms having rapidly developed in just twenty-four hours.

With this new formation, nothing good typically comes out of a weather system much like this one. The stranger part was the fact of how early in the year for any sort of tropical development. Warmer waters near the equator that remained a toasty temperature year-round were likely feeding this, but the cliff of colder water just a couple hundred miles north would determine its true fate.

Regardless, this updated information would also need to be added to the report due to Shadow in a couple of days—and also meant a slight tweak had to be made to the path on the map. Even if these storms didn't hold together this far north, likeliness is Shadow would be upset with a path sailing us through rough seas when they could have been avoided.

Side by side, I ran two simulations—one of the horseshoe-shaped route of the ship, the other of the thunderstorm cluster's forecast. What caught my attention was the rapid change in wind direction, and the integrity of the archipelago of storms as they continued a north-northwesterly track, taking them, once more, across our path.

I blinked with bewilderment, rewinding and replaying the track. At the Eclipse's maximum safe speed—the highest sustained speed without overheating the engines—and with how quickly northbound winds traveled along the coast of the continent up toward Equestria, in no plausible way could we outrun or navigate around the weather without the slightest bit of oceanic turbulence.

Groaning and rubbing my temples in a circle, I came to the realization that this would need explained to Shadow in the next briefing between myself, Sea Watch, and him, and at any moment I would expect him to address how wrong I am, and how much I screwed up on this assignment.

Hours into the work, I closed the laptop and laid flat on my bed, closing my eyes in hopes of battling a stress-induced migraine.

Author's Note:

I must apologize for the shorter chapters as of lately. I promise these next couple of chapters will be much longer!