Chapter Eight - Conflictations (Part I)
Starbrought
Cadance tapped a hoof absentmindedly against the stone flooring of Drake’s cell. Neither had spoken for several minutes after she had presented him with her offer. The air wasn't necessarily terse, but gone was the easygoing expression amongst the captain. Drake’s eyes had yet to leave hers and it was starting to make Cadance feel anxious.
“Well?” She broke the silence impatiently, tired of him just staring at her. “What is your answer?” Drake shifted his position on the bench he was forced to call a bed.
“Well for starters, your concerns aren’t too far off.” He spoke slowly, clearly considering his words. “There are several dangerous items aboard my ship, and if a team of investigators were not careful, they could bring harm to themselves or others.”
“What kind of harm?”
“The kind that could level a city in the blink of an eye.”
Cadance’s expression gradually shifted to one of horror as she tried, and succeeded, to imagine the sheer destructive power Drake was describing. She was quick to regain her composure however, and fixed him with a pointed stare. “That’s why I came to present you with my offer.”
“Are you sure it’s not because I’m unjustly imprisoned?” Drake huffed.
“Didn't you attack the guard and stole from the castle?”
Drake remained silent for a moment, trying to find a way around the facts. He shrugged. “Eh, fair enough.”
“Do you accept?”
“Does a Veneschall decorate itself with the bones of its victims?” Cadance frowned at the metaphor. Drake rolled his eyes in exasperation. “Of course I do! All I have to do is escort your guards back to my ship so they don’t do something stupid by accident and you’ll grant me a full pardon. What kind of idiot wouldn’t take you up on that?”
Cadance smiled at him. “Excellent, I’ll make the necessary arrangements to have you released shortly. As long as everything runs smoothly, we’ll be leaving tonight.” She signaled for the guard stationed outside to open the door. “I’ll be back for you as soon as we’re ready.”
“One thing before you go, Your Poniness.” Drake rose to his feet and took a couple of steps toward her. “I’ll be needing my things back when we go. Including my weapons.”
“And why would we let you have your weapons back?”
“Aside from the fact that I’m getting a full pardon when this is all done?” A grin was spreading across Drake’s face, one that unsettled Cadance to an extent. “My crew and I were transporting some very unique cargo. And some of that ‘unique cargo’ is very much alive. I have no intentions of boarding my ship, only to be set upon by something that would gladly tear me limb from limb. Assuming the damn thing survived the crash, of course.”
“You were transporting living things?” Cadance was oddly surprised by that fact. “I thought you were a pirate.”
“And there’s a market for rare and exotic things,” Drake quipped with another shrug. “Gotta turn a profit.”
“Still doesn’t sound like piracy.” Cadance chuckled at his expression. “But if it’s as dangerous as you claim, I’ll make sure your possessions are brought along with us. I wouldn’t want to have the guards risk their safety if you’re so willing to do the dangerous work yourself.” Drake nodded, a look of relief on his face. “However, you will not be allowed access to them until we reach your ship and you’re headed inside.” Drake’s look of relief was replaced quickly by one of annoyance. “Understood?”
He gave a grunt of resignation and crossed his arms irritably. Smiling, Cadance left the cell, listening as the enchanted locks slid themselves back into place.
“I’ll send somepony for you when we’re ready to leave.” She glanced back at him. Drake was sitting once more on the bench-bed, his eyes glazed over as if lost in thought. A small hint of unease wormed its way into the back of her mind. She couldn’t quite place her hoof on it, but he had seemed a little too compliant with what she had told him.
Time would tell.
Starbrought
“We need to talk.” Cadance excused herself from her conversation with a nearby dock worker and turned eagerly at the sound of Shining Armor’s voice, only to find the disgruntled Sergeant giving her an irritated look.
Her eagerness was quick to slip away. “What’s wrong?” Shining pointed a hoof in the direction of Drake, who was already attracting a small crowd of workers as he waved his cuffed arms about and leapt into the air. He seemed to be trying to entertain them, from Cadance’s perspective. “I don’t understand.”
“He’s what’s wrong.” Shining spared a glance back in the pirate’s direction, a look of contempt appearing on his face. “I know he’s an alien and that makes him interesting and all, Your Highness; but we don’t exactly need him to salvage this wrecked ship.”
“I’m afraid that’s where we’ll have to disagree, Sergeant Armor.” The two turned as the captain of the Tempest Serenade approached them. Her eyes were fixed on Shining, in a way that reminded him all too well of his drill sergeant from his ROTC days. “Captain Silver Flash. The Serenade is my ship, and mine alone. She does not belong to the guard, the crown, or anyone else. And I’m not about to risk her on salvaging some alien piece of crap unless I can be guaranteed that nothing’s going to happen to her.” Captain Flash pointed at Drake. “Who better to see to that than the alien in question?”
“How about an alien who didn’t feel the need to kick me?” Shining grumbled.
A frown was quick to form on Cadance’s face, and her eyes soon spotted a growing blue splotch. “He kicked you?”
“Right in the ribs!” Shining poked the sore spot tenderly. “He completely missed the armor.”
“To be fair, I was aiming for your head,” Drake chimed in as he returned from giving up trying to get one of the damn unicorns to undo his bindings. He had been gruffly ordered by a certain stallion to keep his mouth shut before they reached the Serenade. Obviously, he ignored the demand. “You just walk too fast. What are we talking about?”
“Guard boy here doesn’t like you,” Silver Flash said with a grin.
“News flash of the decade right there. I guarantee it’s because he’s threatened by my masculinity.” An exaggerated sigh escaped him, and he crossed his arms the best that he could in a pitying style. “Must be because there are so few males around for him to compete with. It’s a curse, really.” If looks could do harm, Shining’s would have shredded Drake into tiny little pieces. This only seemed to fuel Silver’s sudden burst of laughter.
“I like this guy!” She turned back toward Cadance, affirming the statement with a stomp of her hoof. The twilight refracting off of the shiny hull of the Tempest Serenade illuminated her amusement. “He’s a nice change of pace from your ever-so-dour guards.”
“Hey!”
“No, she’s right. You royal guard folk are an awful grim bunch.” Drake’s matter-of-fact tone served only to grate on Shining’s nerves. The soldier stormed off, heading toward some of his fellow guardsponies before he most likely wracked up a police brutality charge. A mock frown rose on Drake’s face as he turned to his two remaining sources of potential entertainment. “I think I offended him.”
“He’s a big stallion. He’ll get over it.” Silver huffed and turned toward him. A brief look-over was all she gave, before she let out a snort. “So, you’re the alien.”
“Whatever gave me away?” The pirate let out a quick laugh. “It’s the fashion sense, isn’t it. The stylings of the rich pale in comparison, don’t they?”
Silver grinned widely and held out a hoof toward him. “Finally! Someone not so serious! Captain Silver Flash, of the Tempest Serenade.” Drake accepted her hoof and shook it (with no small difficulty due to his bindings).
“Captain Drake Shields, of the Ethereal. Which is presently docked in a desert. Or so I’ve been told.”
“You’re a captain? Nopony told me this.” Silver shot Cadance a slightly irked look. The princess pretended not to notice.
“Probably thought it was unimportant,” Drake figured with a shrug. “Did they at least tell you I’m a pirate?”
“You’re a what?!”
He only grimaced. “I guess not.” As Flash spun about on Cadance to chew her out, Drake allowed his attention to wander away for a moment. He hoped that Yuri and Slayer hadn’t gotten themselves killed during the crash. It would be a pain to clean the ship if they splattered all over the inside of it. The thought caused Drake to let out a huff. “Now, I hate to be rude, but I’m very eager to get back to my ship. When will we shoving off?”
“As soon as my lazy crew gets their flanks into gear!” Silver shouted, drawing the attention of the ponies shuffling around the dock. It seemed she was done giving her verbal lashing against Cadance, who stood passively with cheeks burning. “Movement, you louts! I want movement! Any slob not doing double time will be forgoing their dinner this evening and be pulling nightwatch!” Her words inspired a flurry of motion as her crew, as well as the plainclothes guards moved quickly to finish preparations.
Drake raised an eyebrow at her choice of vernacular. Where had he heard that kind of speaking before? 'That accent was something I've only seen from dock-hands, and pirates—' A grin soon arose on his face as he connected the dots. “You’re a pirate too, aren’t you?”
“Ex-pirate, more like,” Flash murmured in irritation. Confusion raked her features as she turned back to Drake. “How did you tell?”
“It takes one to know one, and all that jazz,” Drake said dismissively. He examined the silent Princess in his presence. “I’m surprised the royalty hired you, to be honest. The impression they’ve given me shows quite a bit of disdain against us hard-working folk.”
Shining gave a derisive snort as he returned, two additional unicorn guards in tow. “Correction: we have quite a bit of disdain against individuals who attack the Royal Guard. Besides, miss Silver Flash here turned over a new-leaf a while ago.” He motioned towards said captain, who nodded.
“Aye, the life just wasn’t for me. Kept the ship though, and decided to work as a freelancer. Much better pay, much less risk. Also helps that Cadance and I go way back.” With a tired sigh, she waved one of her hooves towards the Serenade. It didn’t seem she wanted to dwell on her past, Drake mused. “Let us move onto my vessel. We ought to depart within the hour if my crew has any sense.”
Drake nodded once. “Sounds good to me.” As he made an attempt to move, he noticed—with some distinct frustration—that his legs were surrounded by a thin shimmer and refused to function. His eyes refocused towards the trio of horn-toting males below him, one of which had a smug smirk. “What gives?”
“Don’t forget you are still very much under arrest until we arrive at the Zebrican lands, prisoner.” Shining said as his horn glowed slightly brighter. The haze surrounding Drake’s legs intensified briefly, causing a wince of discomfort to arise on his face. “We’ve arranged your quarters to be in the cargo hold for the duration of this flight.”
An incredulous look was sent towards Cadance, who was frowning at Shining’s devilish grin. “Seriously? I understand needing to keep me in line, but I have rights, you know!” Drake paused, leaning in towards Flash. “Wait. Do I have any rights?”
Silver Flash merely shrugged. “Most likely. I haven’t been in Equestria for a while. Last time I was here, though, there was a law that prevented mistreatment against non-Equestrians that were held in custody.”
Drake returned his gaze to Cadance, who sighed. “Yes, that law still exists. And I suppose it does apply to you; you’re being given a full pardon once this is done, after all. We will assign you to a cabin, and just put it under watch.” Shining grimaced at this change of plans, but it vanished as her Highness turned to address them. “Will that be a problem, Sergeant?”
He diligently shook his head. “No, ma’am. We will keep a close eye on him.”
Flash nodded her assent. “The Serenade can house plenty more crew than it has, so there’s no reason to shove him into the hold.” An assistant quickly trotted up to whisper into her ear, before galloping off towards the airship. “Ah, we appear to be ready to disembark. Come along, and let us get situated. I think you and I have a lot to talk about, Mister Shields.”
Drake shook his head in bewilderment. “Why is it only the females aren’t jerks?”
“Watch your tongue!”
“Yes, father. I’ll behave, father.”
Shining’s groan of frustration echoed throughout the docks.
Starbrought
“That hurt, you feathered fuck! Take this!” With a yell, Yuri delivered a side-thrust kick into one of the griffin’s sides. The griffin grunted as the kick hit him full force, knocking the wind out of him and flinging him to the ground. The griffin struggled to get back up, before coughing and collapsing to his hind legs. A visible dent had appeared in his otherwise perfect armor. One of the griffins that had been attacking Yuri backed off to ensure his comrade was alright.
Yuri looked at the small gash on his left leg, but before he was able to do anything else about it he became aware of the sword flying towards his face. He quickly raised the sword in his left arm that he had managed to disarm and swung, barely preventing the enemies' blade from taking off a chunk of his face.
“That was my brother, you piece of shit!” Sergeant Diamond's face was one of pure rage, and Yuri was pretty sure that he had some spittle on his face as he held the griffon back. The Sergeant, however, began applying even more force to his sword, forcing Yuri to back up a bit.
'Goddamn, this guy’s strong. I need to knock his ass out—fast—before he does any real damage to me. I’m not used to fighting with this kind of sword,' Yuri began to apply the same amount of force back at the enraged Griffin, forcing him back. His eyes looked to the right and the left of the Sergeant, trying to figure out where and who the next attack would come from. 'What was it my old drill instructor said? The angrier a person, the less amount of thought? I need to abuse that.'
“Heh, your brother needs some work on his form. Got too cocky.” Yuri smirked as he moved to slam his right knee into the Sergeant's chest. Diamond however anticipated this and moved his left talon towards Yuri’s leg to try to knock it out of commission. With Diamond's lower center of gravity, he used his position to off-set Yuri's stance by pushing his knee away, ending the sword-lock with a grunt from both sides.
Diamond caught his balance swiftly, but before he could counterattack, two privates leaped forward to fight Yuri. Both of their swords were drawn, and they were going after him in the classic pincer movement.
Yuri suddenly dropped to one knee, confusing, but not stopping the griffins currently charging at him. He put his right palm slightly above the ground, and watched as his glove glowed a dark red. As the griffins began to near him, he mentally prepared himself for what was about to happen. 'Wait... wait... Now!'
Yuri slammed his palm into the ground, and a low noise echoed throughout the room. The griffins continued their attack, their rage at their comrades injuries overpowering all other emotions. Yuri stayed on one knee as a tremor suddenly shook the floor around him, but not harming him. The griffins, who were going at a high speed suddenly found themselves off balance as the ground below them shook. The tremors stopped as suddenly as they started, and Yuri stood back up and took a quick account of the situation.
One of the guards was barreling towards him, but was off balance. The other one was off course and heading towards the wall. Diamond and the two other downed Griffins appeared unphased by the event, but had looks of shocks as they realized that Yuri was the cause of that.
'That worked better than expected,' Yuri thought as he began to run towards the off-balance griffin moving towards him. Deciding that he had sufficiently displayed his power, Yuri turned off his glove, choosing instead to ready his sword to dispatch his opponent stumbling in his direction.
The Griffin saw what Yuri was doing, and tried all that he could to get re-balanced like it was taught to him in the academy. But that was a lot easier said than done.
Yuri smirked as he turned his blade to strike with the flat edge. He could have just as easily used the sharp edge and simply killed the griffin, but that would leave a mess on his conscious and was honestly not something he wanted to do. As he neared the griffin, he saw fear in its eyes through the helmet. 'I wish it didn’t have to come to this, but they started it first.'
Yuri swung his sword towards the griffin's head, before turning the blade and slamming the hilt into what he could guess was the creature's temple. He could feel the armor dent as it tried to take the hit, but he felt no cracks in the skull or anything else that would identify that he had killed it. The griffin let out a grunt and fell over unconscious onto the cold stone floor.
The other griffin had managed to regain his balance, but after seeing his squad-mate get pretty much destroyed, he had fallen back to where Diamond and his barely-standing brother were positioned a bit down the hallway. Yuri quickly reached down and took the sword from the griffin he had just defeated, fastening it to his belt as a spare. He stood back up and looked at his opponents.
Diamond had a few nicks and dents in his armor, but looked fine otherwise. The other soldier that was still in fighting condition was a bit worse for wear, but still serviceable. He had been able to fight Yuri head-to-head several times, but he lacked the strength that Diamond had. The soldier that had been identified as Diamond’s brother was standing on three legs, with one of his talons on his ribs where Yuri had kicked him, and a slash mark on his breastplate where Yuri had sliced him.
Yuri suddenly bent down, stretching as his back popped several times. “So, Sergeant Diamond: let me ask you something.” He cracked his knuckles rather loudly before putting his sword-less hand over his mouth as he yawned.
Diamond’s face went from one of pure anger to one of annoyance and confusion. “What do you mean ‘let me ask you something’? Why the hell would I talk to you when you just knocked out two of my soldiers and hurt my brother. Are you a fucking moron?”
“Why yes, I am. How did you know?” Yuri smirked as he saw a blood vessel pop in the Sergeants face. “But take this into consideration; I’ve managed to take out three of your men, and the only thing you’ve done to me is stab me in the leg, which would hurt more if you would have done it with a butter knife.” Yuri motioned to the small gash in his leg. “My question is simple: What happens after this?”
The Griffin’s face turned stone-cold. “There is no after this." Cocking his head to the side, he addressed his soldiers. "Get out of here. Find reinforcements and bring them back. I'll delay the creature until you do. Go!"
The two griffins looked at each other, before saluting and moving down the hallway. Diamond's brother attempted to say something, but after a harsh glance, he shut his mouth and walked down the hallway. Leaving his only other brother to fight against a creature that had managed to take down nearly half of their squad.
Diamond looked back as they slowly moved away from him down the hallway. He turned his attention back to Yuri, who had not tried to attack and was just… standing there.
“So Diamond, what exactly are you trying to do here? I mean, I respect you for deciding to fight me alone and allow your comrades to escape, but all of this was completely unnecessary.” Yuri gestured to the knocked out guards on the floor with their battered-armor plainly visible. “None of this would have happened if you would have let me explain myself. But no, you had to try and arrest me.”
“Oh, don’t pretend your innocent in this," Diamond snapped. "Explain this then; what happened to the soldiers that were guarding the room you escaped from?”
“Those two? They're both taking a little nap.”
The griffin's pupils dilated. “They’re alive?”
An indignant expression crossed Yuri's face. “Of course they are. What would I gain from killing the first two members of your race that I meet? I knocked them out because I had no idea how they would react when they saw me. It’s not everyday that you meet an alien, you know.”
Diamond’s eyebrows rose slightly in surprise, before quickly returning back to his infamous deadpanned-expression. “You’re an alien? That would explain some things.”
“It usually does. Now Diamond, I’m going to make you an offer. I let you go, and you tell your superiors that Yuri Lawrence of the Cerberus Pirates wishes to speak with them.” Yuri slid one of his swords into its scabbard as a sign of peace.
“And if I don’t go?”
“Simple. I’m going to make you have a very bad day, and tell your superiors myself.” Yuri’s face darkened as he put his hand on the sword he had just put away. “Are you going to make the right call and do this peacefully, or are you not?”
Diamond stared at Yuri, before doing something that surprised the man who had been a pirate for years. He laughed. “Heh... Ha ha ha!” Diamond’s laugh echoed around the hallway. “Oh, I haven't laughed that hard for a while! Let me save you the trouble of going to my superiors, because I already know the answer. They’re going to take a look at you, and kill you." Abruptly, the griffon slammed a curled-up fish against the floor. "What don’t you understand?! You escaped from a maximum security cell, drained half the base's power and knocked out four guards! The only thing you’re going to get is a body-bag.”
While Diamond had been going off, he had failed to notice Yuri slowly moving towards him, his head down in the shadows. By the time he had finished his monologue, Yuri had entered his strike range. Diamond finally saw what was happening, but before he could react Yuri spoke.
“That was a very nice speech, but you failed to answer my question compadre.” Yuri put his hand on his sword and drew it slowly, letting the metal screech against the scabbard. His glove also began to glow again, but gaining intensity at the same slow speed as his sword. “Yes, or no?” His sword was fully drawn and his glove was glowing once again like Celestia's sun.
“No. No in a thousand languages you big—” Yuri decided not to let him finish his sentence and stabbed his sword right at Diamond's face. Diamonds eyes grew wide as he rapidly moved to parry the attack, causing Yuri’s blade to be deflected harmlessly to the floor. Yuri then sent a roundhouse kick towards Diamond's right side and smirked as he felt his leg slam into the target.
Diamond grunted as the impact forced him sideways. Yuri raised up his sword to parry the slash Diamond had sent at him. Sparks flew out as the blades hammered against one another. Yuri and Diamond continued to duel as their blades slammed into each other, parrying and blocking strikes that would have easily drawn blood if they would have hit their target.
Diamond may have known what he was doing, but he lacked the speed and technique that Yuri had learned from years of fighting as a pirate. Yuri began to apply even more pressure on Diamond, forcing him back and further down the hallway. Yuri began throwing kicks and punches too, and soon Diamond could no longer attack without the risk of being hit, stabbed or both.
Yuri’s sword sent strike after strike at Diamond, who had somehow avoided being hit with any serious blow. Slowly however, his defense began to erode as Yuri’s constant strikes weakened him and exposed holes in his defense. And Yuri was not one to pass up an opportunity.
As soon as Diamond's sword moved to block the swing from Yuri’s blade that was aimed at his face, Yuri stepped forward and slammed his right leg into Diamond's back leg, forcing the Griffin off balance. Yuri turned his blade to the flat side and felt the force as it impacted with Diamond's temple, stunning the Sergeant. Yuri quickly activated his glove and slammed it right where he thought Diamond’s ear canal was. Diamonds eyes went wide was he realized what was about to happen.
“This is going to hurt a lot... ” Yuri’s glove whined, before delivering a concentrated blast of sound directly into Diamond's ear canal. The attack only lasted a moment, but that was all that was necessary. As soon as Yuri released his hand, Diamond slumped to the floor, shaking in pain as he held his ears, screaming his beak off in pain. Small amounts of his own blood was dripping off of his hands from his ears. Yuri walked over and stood above the shaking griffin.
“If you can hear me, I truly am sorry for that. I know what that feels like; trust me. Now, I’ll be taking that communication device from you now.” Yuri slid his hand into Diamond's back and pulled out the P.R.I.C.K. He gave the device a look-over, before shoving it into his pocket.
He turned around and saw the carnage that the battle had produced. Three griffins were incapacitated, with random bits of armor and blood scattered around the room. The light was flickering due to being hit with a sword from one of the griffins. It was not a very pretty sight, but Yuri had seen a lot worse, and most of those involved Slayer.
“I really do not envy whoever has to clean this up. Anyway, let’s go a bit further down the rabbit hole or however that old quote goes.” Yuri turned around and began to walk down the hallway, not sure of what was to come.
'Figures. The one alien race I meet in my lifetime and they try to arrest me. And then try to kill me. Lovely way to start off a day after finding yourself in a prison cell. God, I hope the others aren't as deaf to reason as these morons. Otherwise, this is going to get very nasty.'
Starbrought
A sickening crunch of a sound echoed through the streets as Slayer cut down yet another of the Diamond Dogs, his katana singing with the death of the mutt. After dealing with the initial strike-team that combated him in front of Wampum’s shop, Slayer had rallied the nearby Zebra warriors behind him to rush into the depths of Nazar to defend against the hostile siege. He had several thoughts during his sprinting through the now war-torn metropolis to just hijack a map of the world, cut his losses, and set off for Equestria alone midst the chaos. Each consideration of escape that arose, however, was shot down with one simple phrase:
Shamon was in the city still.
It did not take a degree in thermonuclear physics to comprehend that Shamon was the most useful native Slayer had encountered, as of that moment. He was trusting, knowledgeable, didn’t grate excessively on the assassin’s nerves, and most importantly of all; Shamon was a member of royalty, and would be worth his weight in gold if the prince ever lost his usefulness. To abandon the Zebra would be foolhardy, hence Slayer now taking the burden of saving a race of striped equines onto his own shoulders.
At the same time, even if Shamon wasn’t worth the effort, Slayer couldn’t exactly allow the Diamond Dogs to besiege the Zebra’s capital. Uncaring about political repercussions, the increased slave population spike would fuel the Diamond Dogs. And considering how they had a tendency to attack Slayer, letting them become stronger would be a very idiotic mistake.
Slavery. The word left a bitter aftertaste in his mind when Slayer thought the word. How cowardly one must be, to force another into your will, that you are not able to lead unless you have them in chains. Slayer didn’t think of himself much as a revolutionary or an abolitionist, but slavery was something that most definitely irked the bounty hunter to no end.
So while Slayer was still not exactly one-hundred percent onboard with why he was risking the only hope for Drake’s survival on a bunch of talking horses, he knew for certain that he was not about to let these civilians—strange they may look—be sent into slavery.
Not if he could stop it.
A Diamond Dog similar to the appearance of a pitbull lashed out with its spear, attempting to puncture a nearby Zebrican soldier. The equine nimbly batted away the attack with his staff, unleashing a quick retaliation of his own across the jaw of the animal. Slayer didn’t hesitate in drawing one of his Sabres and opening fire, charring the fur on the unarmored Dog and killing the beast instantly. The Zebra nodded his thanks, before shouting a warcry in a phrase that Slayer’s translator couldn’t transcribe and charged further into the fray.
They were currently in the marketplace where he and Shamon had walked both towards and away from the Elder Council. Slayer figured that, with this size of an attack, the Dogs had plans to outright capture the city. In order to do that, they’d need to break the will of the Zebrican people by either killing or capturing the leaders. Those being the Elders, and Shamon. If the Zebras ever wanted any chance of making out of the assault alive, Slayer would need to form a counteroffensive, spearhead the defense, and rescue the notability before they met an untimely demise.
The bazaar was in disarray; everywhere one would look, there were enormous piles of debris, varying numbers of broken bodies, and the smell of despair and war lofting in the breeze. ‘It is almost peaceful, in a horrifically poetic sort of way,’ the bounty hunter pondered.
Slayer was unperturbed, and almost felt at home as he ducked under the heavy swipe of a lumbering Alpha. The battlefield and the shade was where the assassin felt most comfortable. He’d take a firefight over negotiations any day of the year. It was his element. He was born in it. Working quickly, Slayer capitalized on the unbalanced beast before him and drove his sword into the gullet of the Dog. It took less than a few seconds before the Alpha laid slumped over, dead in its pool of gurgled blood.
Apparently, that was enough. The remnants of the market’s forces fled due to lack of leadership, burrowing and tunneling their way to other parts of the city as they fell back. Sighs of relief left many of the warriors as they carefully lowered their staves a smidge. For then, the area was secure.
Slayer did a brief count; surrounding him was over a dozen Zebrican warriors, all armed with staves (they had refused taking up the fallen Dog’s spears for proper defense, which infuriated Slayer beyond all belief). Two unfortunate casualties resulted from carelessness on both his own part and theirs. The corpses were being treated by a nurse, backed by a witch doctor who muttered strange syllables in prayer. Slayer silently looked away.
One of the troops approached Slayer with a taut expression. The bounty hunter blankly realized that these Zebras had no official ranking system that was visible, so whether this was an officer or a raw recruit standing before him was unknown. “Interloper. Dogs have been sighted all over Nazar. Our brothers are doing everything they can, but it seems to be a losing battle... Many innocent lives are lost.” The Zebra’s features drooped, and he seemed almost pained to continue speaking. “What... what do you recommend we do?”
Slayer blinked. The look in the eyes of nearby equines in earshot of the query gave shocked glances at the exhausted Zebra warrior. Slayer had a hunch that the Zebras were a very xenophobic race, and that asking for help from an outsider was no small feat. Slayer knew they would only do it if they felt like they had no other option. “There is nothing we can do for your friends.” Depression set in almost immediately on some of their striped faces. Slayer quickly pressed on lest they lost the will to fight. “The best way we can help them, though, is to get to your Elders ASAP, and have them survive the raid—”
Slayer turned, and swiftly unloaded a bolt of energy on reflex at a rogue Dog who attempted to snatch an unsuspecting civilian. It fled with a yelp and a blackened claw. A snort departed from Slayer’s nose as he inspected the surprised expression on the Zebra’s face. “If we keep them alive, the Dogs cannot take the city and they’ll retreat.”
The stallion frowned. “Is there truly nothing we can do directly? Anything?” He seemed almost desperate. Worry reflected in the warriors’ moods as they began huddling around the metallic giant as if he was some beacon of victory. Slayer felt pity, which was not the easiest thing to rise out of his chiseled heart. It was the same sensation he had felt after his confrontation with the Elders; these Zebras knew little of warfare. It went against their very way of life, as stupid as it was. The hitman sighed, watching some Zebras establish a perimeter while they gathered soldiers from nearby districts for a push.
“Without a way to communicate with them and coordinate their tactics, no.” Slayer tapped a finger against his thigh, staring quietly at a soldier being treated for serious lacerations and a broken foreleg. Their lack of medical technology meant the Zebra wasn’t going to make it. Slayer couldn’t help but feel some regret at setting his satchel down in the cart when he arrived; the medical braces and their inherent nanobots could have probably saved the lad’s life.
A few moments later, the casualty count rose to three. Slayer turned away again, this time much faster than the previous. He made a solid effort to keep his voice smooth and calm. Yet another life lost to tyranny. “Once we’ve secured the Elders, the rest of you can go back into the city to support your allies. I can stay behind and defend them myself until the siege ends.”
Despite the situation they were finding themselves in, the Zebra Slayer was conversing with gave a glance laced with suspicion. Even with death threatening them, they were—metaphorically speaking—looking a gift horse in the mouth (later, Slayer mused, he would remember the irony of that thought and snort to himself in amusement).“And how do we know that you will not act on your threat of their lives this time?”
The assassin’s response was to merely grab the stallion’s mane and tug him forward. The Zebra shouted for his brothers to assist him, before a spear flew past where he was standing mere milliseconds before and dug into the earth, the force of the throw still shaking the shaft. Slayer leaned back, and fired at a wooden support pillar. Above them some metres to Slayer’s right, a Diamond Dog scout—minus one javelin—felt his balcony give out, and he plummeted to his death. Slayer glanced down at the still-alive Zebra, and raised an eyebrow. “Because if that was the case, I would have let you die.”
The Zebra nodded, eyes as wide as saucers. Other soldiers copied the expression. “V-very well. Uh...” Slayer watched him awkwardly dig in the ground with his hoof, scuffing at the sandstone underfoot. “I- ah... thank you, Slayer.” The armoured gladiator gave a silent nod of his own. Slayer didn’t make a comment about the Zebra finally using his name, although that didn’t stop quiet muttering to briefly surge through the ranks. It was a sign of respect, and there was no reason to call the Zebra out on it.
Slayer flexed his empty hand, rechecking his numbers. They now had eighteen soldiers; it would have to be enough. Turning to address his makeshift horde of troops, Slayer played the role of commander since no-one competent stepped up to the plate. “Alright, we’re going to move uphill towards the Council! Stay vigilant, and keep close.” His eyes squinted in the dusk. “Watch where you tread. If you choose not to follow my orders, then you will die. Plain and simple.”
Determined yet uneasy shouts met him as they began forming a convoy narrow enough to traverse the cramped alleyways under Slayer’s supervision. They needed organization if they wanted to succeed, and if Slayer left them to do an infiltration mission solo—which was something he would have preferred—then there wouldn’t be enough manpower left to sustain the city when all was said and done.
So, Slayer turned them into a military flight, making adjustments in spacing due to the equines’ build. Satisfied with the set-up he had established, Slayer took point and marched them deeper into the bowels of the attack.
It only seemed to get worse the closer they crept. Gaping holes marred the once sand-swept stone of Nazar and made the entire city very reminiscent of Swiss cheese. Stands once brimming with fruits, vegetables, and other foodstuffs now laid in broken heaps, their contents trampled underfoot. More bodies littered the roads; Zebras sprawled out in grotesque poses from the heat of battle. Slayer frowned, noting the occasional unconscious Dog that was left from the struggle. He was quick to slit their throats by beheading the beasts with his sword despite weak protests from his band of non-merry men.
There would be no respect for slavers.
‘Even with their lives at stake, the Zebras draw no blood. I intensely dislike quasi-pacifists, almost more than actual pacifists. They’re no better than fools. Because at least a fool is willing to stand up wholeheartedly for what they believe in.’
Far off in the distance, a harsh cry of pain and woe rocked the earth. The Zebrican warriors were unnerved, but whenever Slayer glanced at them they put on a brave face. Showing weakness to an outsider was (no doubt) an atrocity, and the ‘Interloper’ was probably no different despite his current actions of trying to save their ass.
The assassin thought quietly to himself as the party stomped their way through silent streets. ‘Sounded like a Zebra. Given the direction of the scream, it wasn’t from the Council’s tent. No signs of any roving war-parties. Good. I need to remain vigilant, however, and eliminate their means before they can disrupt the Zebras. If they stampede and get themselves killed, I don’t know if I really can save this city, Shamon, and the Elders by myself...’
Slayer was not one to ever second-guess himself and his capabilities, but given the circumstances, it could be understood—
Abruptly, Slayer stopped. He stopped so suddenly that the Zebras nearly collided with the behemoth as he froze in revelation. There were no visible war-parties. That didn’t mean there weren’t any. Quickly, the pirate began analysing the surrounding area, anxiety starting to worm its way into his heart.
It was dead still. Even the distant cacophony of battle and bloodshed seemed muffled and muted from their current position in an utterly massive courtyard, foreign to Slayer’s memories of his route and exposed. The only sound he could hear was the anxious breathing of the soldiers behind him, and uneasy shuffling as hooves clicked softly against stone. Exposed. Silence. Something wasn’t right.
“Ambush!”
Slayer moved before he even felt the ground shake.
And like that, the literal dogs of war sprung to life. Second-story windows previously shuttered flew open with crashes, Dogs poised at the ready with javelins already in their grasps. Diamond Dogs clawed their way viciously out of the earth, enclosing the Zebra formation. The spot where Slayer had just been standing became occupied by a mastif of an Alpha resembling a grey wolf unearthing itself. Heaved behind it was a menacing club interwoven with a mix-mash of broken blade shards. The Zebras were unequal in numbers, weapons, and strategic placement. Slayer cursed under his breath.
Zebras pressed against one another, their camaraderie fueling their courage and preventing them from fleeing on instinct. Dogs steadily began suffocating the mass of warriors, their spears threatening to nick and impale any who didn’t obey. Slayer watched, his mind calculating and processing and planning. And suddenly, the Alpha looked to the assassin. And dragged its free claw across its throat.
Rationally, Slayer did the only thing he could do when there were severe odds stacked against him. Slayer respected honour and integrity (the irony of him being a pirate due to technicality not lost on him), but in light of what was happening before him, the marauder decided he had no choice but to suspend his law in turn of survival.
So he kicked the Alpha in its family jewels. Hard.
Instantly, battle erupted. Zebras broke ranks, ignoring the rules Slayer had set not ten minutes prior in favor of panic and the fighting spirit that only arose from cornered rats. Staves deflected spears, and the unexpected surge forced the perimeter of the stunned Diamond Dogs to break like glass against stone. As the towering Dog hunched over and crumpled to his knees in agony and shock, Slayer quickly drew his blade to strike.
A javelin whistled by the assassin’s visor, forcing him to redirect his attention. The poised spear-throwers used their pila-esque devices in a mad attempt to pierce Slayer’s armor, unleashing such a violent torrent that Slayer had no choice but to take cover behind an upturned cart. Decisively evading a silo that nearly turned him into a Slayer-kabob, Slayer prepped both of his Sabre Shots and began unloading hell, fire, and brimstone. Bolt after bolt pelted the shelters where the Dogs hid; some unable to dodge in time and suffered fourth-degree burns while they tumbled out of the view-ports as a result.
At this point, the Alpha was recovering. But Slayer couldn’t deal with the Dog because if he deviated even for a moment on his suppressive fire, the javelin-toting Diamond Dogs would skewer the man, or at bare minimum leave significant wounds. Or worse, focus on the unarmored Zebra ranks and massacre them. Realizing he had numbers at least willing to heed him, Slayer barked a swift order, and some Zebra not in the midst of battle broke off from the melee to buck in the doors to the buildings.
They quickly entered, and soon those elevated Dogs were under close-quarter attack, and thus fell swiftly from the unanticipated flank. An amused grin rose on Slayer’s face. ‘It seems I underestimated these equines. Give them some good leadership and tactics, and they aren’t half bad of a fighting force—’
A large amount of air left the bounty hunter as the Alpha lunged forward and struck, balling its claws and driving its freshly-made fist into Slayer’s gut with the equivalent power-level of a freight-train. The force was strong enough to actually lift Slayer off the ground briefly, sending him into a near-tumble that resulted with his fall being broken by an empty barrel. Slayer recovered quickly, however, and readied his katana to engage the pack leader.
“You little shit,” the hitman muttered. The Alpha seemed almost amused that the big metal giant was speaking in the weird language of the little horsies. Granted, he couldn’t understand a word of it, so the insult was utterly lost on the brute. In reply, the Dog simply hefted his nice, weathered mahogany club and swung.
Ducking under with grace nearly resembling a dancer, Slayer pirouetted on a single foot and made a clean gash across the abdomen of the Alpha from a kneeling viewpoint. The stinging aftereffect annoyed the Dog, and the beast showed its irritation by back-handing the assassin as if he was a fly. At least, it would have, if the Dog could figure out where the funny-talking metal thing went.
Without warning, the Dog’s heel exploded in pain, forcing the animal to wildly and blindly lash out backwards as it fell to a knee. Slayer had spiraled around the Alpha’s bumbling feet and arrived behind the animal. While he may have had an opening for the Alpha’s head, Slayer’s crouched positioning forced him to only be able to attack the achilles heel. The unexpected slash from the Dog rapped the top of Slayer’s visor, the momentum sending Slayer rolling backwards into a defensive stance.
Thankfully, through sheer dumb luck, the claws didn’t bypass the visor and meet Slayer’s face. As such, the extent of the blow was head trauma and a faint obscuring of sight, but such a feeble thing wasn’t going to stop the famed ‘Crimson Menace’. Well, maybe. There were three Alphas now favoring a limp on their right sides, at least in the hitman’s shaky vision. It passed just in time for Slayer to see in high-definition the Alpha’s club veering towards his brain cavity.
Slayer was thankful adrenaline worked like it did, otherwise he never would have been able to smoothly roll to the Alpha’s left, evading the weapon by a hair’s breadth. This Alpha seemed larger than usual, its height besting Slayer by a full two feet, roughly. Such a difference in points of gravity was working in the bounty hunter’s favor so far, but too many blows from the Dog would crush him into a meaty paste, armour or no.
Another decapitating swing flew towards Slayer, and once more he ducked under. Three quick swipes from Slayer’s sword criss-crossed the chest of the leering animal, seeming only to increase its ire. The Dog abruptly released its crude tool, and lunged for the assassin with claws bared.
Keratin met metal, and Slayer backpedaled from the strength and ferocity of the barrage. The Dog was fighting differently from the Alphas he had met in the city; the creature fought on all fours, and the combat form held no finesse, nor style. It was reminiscent of the Alpha Slayer had killed back in the desert when defending the Zebras. It was the spirit of a frightened, angry caged beast.
A broad slash somehow succeeded in knocking the katana from Slayer’s grasp, forcing the beloved blade to skitter and clatter across the stones to an inactive section of the yard some distance away. Slayer looked back grimly as he put some distance between him and the feral Dog and raised his fists in a fighting posture.
‘Wait. My Sabres!’
A demented grin rose on the warrior’s face as he swiftly reached down to snatch the dual pistols on his hip, only to find nothing. Fear settled itself into an icy ball within Slayer’s heart. Almost comically, Slayer glanced over, back towards the wreckage of the barrel he had crashed through earlier at the start of the battle, to see his two Sabre Shots sitting neatly amongst the debris. He turned back to see the Dog pounce, and being bowled over to the ground.
Instinct overrode thought as Slayer began driving heavy shots of his fists into the Alpha’s muzzle and ribs. Claws attempted to further leave gashes in Slayer’s Suit, doing everything it could to carve a path through the armour to the funny-talking metal thing that was becoming a real threat. As the Diamond Dog made an effort to clamp its enormous bone-crushing jaw onto the man’s throat, Slayer quickly intercepted the attack with a hand under and against the jaw. Tightening his knuckles, Slayer sent an uppercut to the Alpha’s throat with his free hand, and bought him some breathing room.
The warrior took his chance, and slipped an armored foot between him and the sputtering, wild beast in front of him. With a heave and a grunt of effort, Slayer succeeded and shoved the creature a short distance away. Taking the initiative as usual, Slayer rose to a kneeling position and pivoted, spinning and slamming his back heel into the muzzle of the Alpha.
The Dog tumbled from the blow, and Slayer began a mad dash for his katana. While not as effective in this situation as the Sabres might of been, the blade was much closer and Slayer had a much higher chance of rearming himself. Doing a forward roll and obtaining his weapon, he spun and cut at the Alpha at his heels.
Only to find nothing there but a freshly-dug hole.
“What the...” A claw burst forth from the stone walkway and seized Slayer’s heel, intent on bringing the assassin down into the Alpha’s home territory. The hitman was having none of that, and made his own intentions known to staying topside by driving his free heel into the paw of the Dog to release him. A growl seemed to shake the ground under him, and Slayer wildly flung himself out of the way.
It appeared to be in the nick of time, because what rose instantly after was not just the Alpha. Four other Dogs accompanied the leader of the ambush with spears brandished, and they were fresh spirits raring for battle. Slayer spared a minute glance at the surrounding discord; the Zebras were valiantly trying their best to keep the other Dogs at bay, but they would not last for much longer without aide. Slayer was exhausted; the pressure and the never-ending tide of battle was starting to fatigue the pirate. But Slayer could not afford to start getting sloppy now. He warily raised his katana, and prepared himself for more bloodshed.
The Alpha muttered something darkly, but the tone and articulation was too guttural for the translator to even attempt to narrow. Its canine accomplices nodded with grim smiles and murder in their eyes. Slayer kept himself grounded, keeping at least a part of his senses busy on checking for any tremors underfoot in case of a surprise attack. Things were not looking good. He needed to think of something, fast.
And just like that, as if a silent prayer had been answered (though Slayer never remembered making a plea), a hefty pebble the size of the assassin’s fist flew over Slayer’s head and nailed the Alpha in the eye. The Dog howled in agony, the sharp rock having no doubt blinded the beast from that side. Another stone flew and hit one of the other Dogs squarely in the nose, and another flew soon after.
A warcry sounded off behind Slayer. He trusted his senses, and hit the deck.
Almost immediately after, a pure hail of rocks and stones launched over Slayer’s prone form like a shower. The Diamond Dogs throughout the precinct, having not expected such an assault, were exposed and therefore battered relentlessly by chunks of minerals. Slayer chanced a look behind him, and a triumphant smirk grew on his face.
Standing on the rooftops across the way were over two-dozen Zebras, each armed with several stones and slings that quickly found themselves ripping through the air with a surprising amount of velocity. And in the center, picking out particular targets to focus on, was none other than the prince himself.
‘Shamon, you lovable little equine you.’
Said Zebra raised his hoof and did a brief parody of a salute towards Slayer. With that, multiple Zebras rushed in from all sides and swept up the remaining Dogs with decisive ease. The Alpha and its small vanguard fled before anything more could be done, though Slayer felt immense satisfaction at the look of pure unrelenting rage in the Diamond Dog’s unbloodied eye.
Slayer began picking himself off the ground, as Shamon galloped up to the bounty hunter with relief. How the Zebra got to the ground so fast was a question the hitman ignored. “Slayer! What are you doing here? I did not realize you would be in the city still, much less fighting the Diamond Dogs and leading some of my own kin into the fray.”
Despite the strange sensation of lightheadedness settling into the back of Slayer’s mind for a temporary respite, he kept a cocky tone to his voice as he retrieved his Sabres with Shamon trailing behind in bewilderment. “And leave you to have all the fun? I don’t think so.” The Zebra merely cracked a grin, which was a thankful expression to see in spite of the serious situation they were both in.
The courtyard now truly looked like a battlefield. Corpses haphazardly decorated the floor of the surrounding sector, belonging now to both Dog and Zebra. Both Slayer and Shamon looked on quietly, feeling the gravity of the area. There were casualties. Severe casualties. Of the eighteen Slayer had led in, only six remained. The marauder couldn’t help but feel as if he had led them into a suicide charge, an ambush.
Were the blood of a dozen Zebra lives now on his hands? He wasn’t sure.
There was a faint feeling of shock echoing in Slayer’s system. Killing civilians was a waste of time if it wasn’t a contract, and generally—unless desperate for supplies or cash—was personally frowned upon by Slayer due to the unhonourable circumstances surrounding the scenario. But this, was different. It was as if he had indirectly killed them, as if he had led those poor souls with not a lick of comprehension of why things were happening, gallantly into their deaths without a second thought. He should have ordered them during the heat of battle to maintain ranks, or to take a defensive position, or something. Instead he let them stampede, to break file. And as a result they got killed.
Slayer didn’t know why he was feeling the empathy that he was. He had killed a lot of people. A lot. Even civvies, from time to time. But this was an instance where he killed people without meaning to, and when he had good intentions. As a result, he wasn’t exactly positive what to feel. Instead, Slayer contented himself to almost impassively watch the bloody corpses of the Zebras be blessed by chanting shamans, and mourned by wounded brothers.
“Slayer? Are you all right?”
Said assassin duly noted the concern in Shamon’s voice as he returned from his internal musing and glanced down. Once more, Shamon’s stoically impassive face (one that really only came from being royalty, probably) was adorned, though this was marred by a tint of worry. Was it for him, Slayer wondered. Probably not. “Yeah. I’m peachy. Nothing some buffing out and maybe some therapy won’t fix.”
There wasn’t exactly any singular emotion in Slayer’s voice; it was a mixture of so many different feelings, the tone and halfhearted joke ended up sounding strained and cold, instead of confident and easygoing. For a moment, Slayer uselessly flapped his lips together. “I... I didn’t expect there to be an ambush. I’m sorry—”
Despite not explaining why, Shamon rose a hoof to stop Slayer. “Stop. Don’t you dare apologize.” The force in Shamon’s voice halted any possibility for a rebuttal. “I know what you’re feeling.” The prince quietly glanced over his charges again; some were breathing heavily, some were crying, and some were doing neither. His eyes hovered over the latter the longest. “They died to protect Nazar. You leading them into battle, and them falling is not your fault. Never think otherwise.” Slayer presumed the words were true, and in fact knew them to be true deep in his heart... but these sudden, foreign waves of grief were starting to overcome the pirate and his rational thoughts.
He sunk down cautiously and took a seat on the hard surface of the yard, refusing to drop his guard. This had happened before, one very long time ago. He had led similar troops into a similar situation, and in that period of time he was most definitely at fault as he watched his allies being gunned down due to his mistakes. Was this any different? Slayer couldn’t tell.
Shamon motioned to a nearby soldier. “Get the Interloper some water. Everyone, guard this uwanja until we’re ready to continue on.” Zebra warriors silently nodded, their own agony at seeing so many of their kin dying in combat dulling their want to speak. A small flask soon found itself in Shamon’s hoof, and he passed it to Slayer, who gave a nod of thanks and drank without a word.
Shamon had seen this type of shock before, and knew that giving the alien time to recover his wits was the best thing, even if it meant delaying in rescuing the Elders. As Slayer stewed in thought, and the distant screams and battle-cries rode the faint breeze through the now-bustling plaza, Shamon was still analysing the entire scope of things; Slayer had stayed and fought. He could have just as easily left the first chance he had, but instead that armoured alien remained. Was this it? Was Slayer truly the one who would end the misery of the Zebrican people by slaying the Diamond Dog scourge afflicting their kin since nearly the beginning of history?
If their current predicament wasn’t so severe, Shamon would have smiled in hopeful joy.
A tired sigh left Slayer as he took another drink to sate his thirst. The battle had really done a number on his psyche, and the cool refreshing water was helping to bring Slayer’s senses back into focus. Bruises and slight penetrations in his armor were thankfully all the injuries Slayer had endured through that fight, save for the slightly-splintered visor. It could have been worse. A lot worse.
Passing the canteen back, the assassin stood stiffly and cracked his back. To the prince’s credit, he didn’t flinch as the loud pops echoed in the forum. Slayer had to get back into things, and put the nipping guilt behind him; the longer he stayed out of the thick of things, the harder it’d be to stop the Dogs, get to Equestria, and give Drake an ass-kicking for making him go through all of this.
Maybe Slayer would get paid for his service in Nazar? That’d be nice.
Shamon regarded Slayer with almost a bit of humor in his voice, though genuine or not was unknown. “I know this may not be the most appropriate time to state this, but... you look really terrible, you know that?” It was an awful attempt at a joke, but Slayer couldn’t help but let out an honest guffaw at the probable understatement. Slayer rarely laughed—and it was rarer still for him to guffaw at that volume—but he felt it would be good for his mental sanity if he relieved some of the stress.
“You should see the other guy.” Slayer was almost internally stunned with himself; cracking jokes wasn’t something he usually did, much less during a siege and even less so in foreign company. The recollection brought words to the bounty hunter’s lips as he grasped the handles of his Sabres out of comfort. He made a note to figure out how they got knocked off so easily in the future when they were magnetically locked to his hips. “Enough pissing about. We need to press onwards and secure your Elders. How many men do you have?”
The word was foreign to Shamon, but it didn’t take more than half-a-second for him to realize the asking. “I have over thirty warriors with me. We had initially been rushing towards the Elder Council after we had been attacked in another district obtaining supplies, when some of our scouts saw you were commanding a unit into battle. We took higher ground and when the opportunity presented itself, we got a little revenge in stoning the Alpha, Lucien.” Slayer made a move to question, but Shamon beat him to the punch. “Lucien is the Diamond Dog that has been leading the raids on Nazar, and is one of the most notorious of their race. Rumors are like wildfire that he is one of the Great Five who command all of their dens across the world.”
Slayer wanted to question further, but he figured there would be a time and a place for that later. With the mercenary nodding to show he was satisfied with the current answer, Shamon continued. “Knowing that Alpha though, he will not give up so easily. We can expect to undoubtedly see Lucien again during this conflict, and he’ll undoubtedly be leading the attack on the Elder Council.”
“Thanks for the assist back there, by the way,” Slayer said in a muted tone. It was not often Slayer thanked someone for saving his life; more often than not, it was the other way around. Humble pie was something that was going down harder than expected. Maybe the rush of war was dulling his capacity to care about humility? That was a first. “You certainly made the fight a lot simpler for me.”
Shamon nodded in kind, a smile appraising his face. He realized the meaning behind the casual tone outlining the phrase, but didn’t call Slayer out on it. “You saved my life once. It is only fair that I might as well return the favour to a degree, eh?”
The quip floored the assassin with such simple logic, but he kept his response to an repressed chuckle as he glanced down. Spotting a broken spear raised a concern that needed to be voiced. “I recognize that you and your people are not ones to spill blood, but... you’ll need to take the Dog’s arms if you wish to reduce lives lost.”
Shamon’s face fell in contemplation as the other Zebras began organizing themselves. The remnants of Slayer’s force were quickly taking on a leadership role, setting the warriors into a mock parallel of the flight Slayer had designed for them and their kin. “You may very well be correct, although I do not know if they would be willing to use them even if I commanded them to. It is against our nature to kill, even if it is towards Diamond Dogs in self-defense.”
A frown worked its way onto Slayer’s face. He’d been expecting such a response. Slayer didn’t have the patience at that moment though to argue on the matter. If the Zebras wanted to die by not using more effective weapons, then that was their folly. So he decided to simply drop the issue, as they were starting to waste very very valuable time, and took the reins to begin escorting the troop through back-alleys. Shamon kept pace right beside him, staff ready to be drawn almost as swiftly as Slayer would his sword.
“Do you have any idea where the Elders are? A safety bunker of some sorts, or any kind of evacuation plan?”
The prince shook his head. “Unfortunately, we do not. The Diamond Dogs have never been this bold before to outright lay waste to Nazar. In our foolishness, I suppose we were almost too sure of ourselves and we underestimated the audacity of the Dogs...” Shamon assumed point for a brief moment to check around a corner, before signaling to Slayer that they were good. “They are most likely still in their tent where we held our... meeting with them.” The pause did not go unnoticed by the bounty hunter.
Whether by intention or chance, Slayer did not know, but they encountered no more ambushes or even combat during the course of their march through the city streets. They often passed by finished battles; some occasionally holding survivors still willing to fight under Shamon’s—though in a strange turn of events, it ended up being more like Slayer’s—personal banner, and some others...
Well, those individuals would not have been much help in their condition.
Both Shamon and Slayer halted their demoralized party. These warriors were not prepared for this, Slayer speculated; not physically, mentally, technologically, or psychologically. How the Zebras were able to hold themselves together and be willing to keep on fighting against surmounting odds was admittedly inspiring to the bounty hunter. There were human veterans that couldn’t keep their composure as well as the Zebras were doing, and these equines probably had zero actual combat experience beyond very basic training.
Shamon waved at Slayer to follow him closely, leaving the mass of troops behind so they could scout ahead. The prince considered idly for a moment to leave one of them behind to assure the soldiers and keep them from retreating in a blind panic, but decided against it after another moment. They needed two opinions for whatever obstacles might be in their way.
“Up ahead is their tent. We came in through a back-way, in case they were expecting a frontal assault.” Upon them both reaching the subtly-shadowed alcove, Shamon and Slayer simultaneously peeked around the corner. “Hopefully we arrived before they reached the vanguard—” The two tensed in trepidation.
What they were staring at was not pretty. The previous carnage Slayer had marched passed, in comparison to what was before him, was like trying to compare a hold-out pistol to an interplanetary battery charge. Dozens upon dozens of Zebra bodies laid soullessly in a mass grave in front of the space before the teepee, eyes glassy and chilling to stare into. Not a single Dog incapacitation.
Instead were several battalions of Diamond Dogs being organized under several Alphas, many armed with spears and full sets of leathery armor. Their files were sloppy, and more designed to squish as many Dogs into the small area as possible. Slayer didn’t doubt for a second he was staring into a band of at least sixty of the beasts. Shamon silently whispered something to himself under his breath, as their pairs of eyes took in everything.
They had stumbled onto the very heart of the siege’s reserves. And they were positioned directly in front of the tent, with no way to be able to slip through without being detected. A subtle mutt was scattered here and there with javelins, perched on random rooftops to serve as snipers and lookouts. The overall plausibility of getting past that overwhelming force deftly reached zero-percent in record time.
‘Shit.’
The word rebounded in Slayer’s noggin as he contemplated. Shamon could almost feel the cogs turning in the alien’s head, and after a while they both settled themselves into the nook to discuss. The prince was the first to start. “This is not good. We should have expected them to assemble their primary attack near the Elders in case of a rescue attempt.”
“I did, although the extent of their force is disturbing,” Slayer grumbled. “We can’t perform any stealth approach, nor can we perform a charge. We need to improvise, lure and/or diminish their miniature army in some way...” As he trailed off, an idea became forming in the back of his mind. Was it foolish? Absolutely. Risky? Of course. Did it have a high chance of success?
Hell no.
The hitman tapped a finger against his thigh, one of his signature modes of thinking. Shamon picked up on this. “Do you have an idea, Slayer?”
A nod left him as he spoke as softly as possible; arousing the Dog’s acute hearing before any action could be taken would be rather unpleasant. “Aye. It’s a multi-step plan; riddled with dangers for not just me and you, but all those warriors waiting for us back there. And it’ll most likely fall through and end with large amounts of losses. But we don’t seem to really have another plan, so we may need to take what we can get.”
Silence dominated the air between them. For a long, baited-breath moment, Shamon’s expression held large helpings of conflict, worry, and anger. The prince’s gaze hovered over his charges once more, then the mass of Diamond Dogs, and then the Elder’s tent which sat unmoving. It all faded with a resolute sigh, and the prince stared passively at the pirate. “What do you have in mind?”
Behind the man’s mask, a concealed grin revealed itself. “That depends; got any more rocks?”
Starbrought
With a heaving grunt of effort, Slayer pulled himself up and out of the hatch. Stealthily closing the wooden trapdoor before the hinges could give him away, the assassin crouch-walked over to the edge of the tower, and peered down from behind his cover. It had taken him nearly half-an-hour to organize everything and get Shamon to agree with the plan, but he did it.
Now Slayer just had to ensure that everything was in position.
Slayer stood on top of a bell-tower, overlooking the Elders’ tent and the horde of awaiting Dogs with precise calculation. Reaching into his satchel (the prince had sent for a scout to retrieve the bag from the discarded wagon), Slayer began tying his coil of metal cable around one of the buttresses, taking much too long in the marauder’s honest opinion to properly fasten it.
Slayer wished he had a rifle. It would be amusing to take pot-shots at Alphas and watch their heads comically explode in the cross-hairs. That would provide an excellent cover in terms of chaos to lure Lucien out to decapitate, or blow up. Unfortunately, Slayer had to make do with what he got. Though he made a note to look into seeing if he could construct one from a possible blueprint when he returned to the Ethereal.
If he ever got back to the Ethereal, that is.
Nightfall was in its earliest moments, bathing the bloodied capital of Nazar in the faintest wisps of crimson light. Once darkness fell, though; the Dogs rate of victory would increase exponentially, with the Zebras blindly stumbling about without any night vision. The man had to work as swiftly as he could; the Solaris Suit couldn’t maintain its charge with as near efficiency during the night, and such power-consuming actions like open battle would finish him off before any beast could. Slayer unclipped his jagged glass orb that he still had on his person, and held it up to the light.
Despite it being unrefined, and there being very little sunlight to work with, the rough sculpture gave off a semi-bright flash. A distant flash met him a few moments later in response. The agents were in position. Slayer exhaled, waiting for the right moment. Once the 'Crimson Menace' gave the signal, all hell was going to break loose. The only way it would work is if his timing was impeccable and his measurements had been absolutely spot-on.
Several Alpha mutts shambled about, growling and barking to their cohorts as squadrons occasionally departed to random vectors of Nazar. Slayer needed to kill this Lucien character quick. From what Slayer gathered, without leadership the Dogs would become unorganized and eventually flee. At least, he hoped that would happen.
It was their only shot of getting out alive, after all.
A questioning glimmer attracted Slayer’s attention. He gave one more look-over of the Diamond Dogs, and quickly flashed his orb. They were prepped. All Slayer had to do was to provide that single distraction to initiate the signal. ‘Hmm... what could I *possibly* use as an appropriate distraction?’ Glancing over at the unmoving bell, inspiration struck him as he smirked and drove his armored boot into the brass ornament.
It resounded with a heavy dong, one that echoed throughout the blood-soaked capital. Battles seemed to pause, suspended in time as the ominous sound rang across the streets, death being foretold in its endless groan. The Dogs below glanced up in confusion and fright. But the results were immediate.
One-fourth of the Zebra war-party that Slayer had led became known at the bottom of the Elder’s encampment, wildly throwing stones up the hill and dispatching some Dogs with lucky shots. The unexpected—but pathetic—assault only roused two squadrons of beasts to give chase to the equines, who fled down the road and away from the teepee.
The remaining Dogs merely looked puzzled at what just happened (with a Diamond Dog on occasion still glancing up at the now-silent bell), before another quarter of the Zebras emerged from an alcove and repeated the process. Once more, a squadron broke ranks at their Alpha’s discretion and pursued them into the back alleys of Nazar.
Slayer nodded to himself as he put his souvenir away. Half of their force remained. It would have to do.
Almost lazily, Slayer plucked a particular grenade from his utility belt and fiddled with it for a moment, fighting the urge to lightly whistle a tune and give his position away. After he was done, the bounty hunter casually dropped the ticking device into the midst of the Dog’s army. Numbers began floating through his mind. ‘One. Two.’ The grenade plummeted almost in an never-ending limbo, before reaching the earth. ‘Three. Four.’ Confused barks and whimpers sounded out below him as the technology settled, but Slayer didn’t look. There was no reason to. He just needed to wait for one more—
With sudden volume, a high-pitched whine much like a siren randomly pierced the air. Slayer’s Suit automatically adapted and suppressed the vibrations, just in case he overestimated the frequency and the Screamer threatened to bust his ear drums. Every single Dog (Alphas included, though to a lesser degree) hunched over in pain as their ears pressed against their skulls. Some of them instantly lost consciousness from the sensory overload, and a few others probably suffered permanent hearing damage.
Barely readable above the screeching wail, several Zebrican war-cries made themselves known. Slayer’s vantage point allowed him to bare witness to Zebras quietly lying in wait springing forth from their hiding places on the rooftops, using their staffs to render any lookouts in their range asleep via blunt trauma. The frequency was too high for even their ears to detect, making the Sonic Screamer an ideal item to use in order to shake the Diamond Dog force.
Slayer smirked as the Dog’s vertical advantage was gone; it was time to take it a step further.
Slayer clipped the cord to his waist, and lowered himself so he hung off the edge of the bell-tower. He began to count once again. ‘Time for Phase Two: One. Two. Three—’ Movement halted his countdown. A pair of Alphas had left the Elder’s tent, thankfully with no blood on their persons but still carrying weapons of war. Unlike the others however, they were somehow unaffected by the Sonic Screamer’s emitting shriek. Strings of curses left Slayer as he began to carefully but swiftly rappel himself down the tower, giving his cable slack for a continuous descent.
Some beasts being immune was not part of the plan.
It seemed, however, that those two Dogs went unnoticed by the rest of the Zebras. Shamon went through with the attack and suddenly charged out of an alley separate from the one where one of the decoys ran off through, leading the rest of his kin and blindsiding the disoriented mass of canines. They began dropping like flies, the Zebras dutifully using their staves like fly-swatters against any Dog still standing in their reach.
Slayer picked up his pace, occasionally pausing to draw one of his Sabres and open fire at a recovering Dog that would try and fight back. Those two Alphas still walked, almost indifferent to their own numbers being destroyed in front of them. Pausing just outside of the fighting’s area of effect, one of them unsheathed a javelin from his back. And with aim that even Slayer would have had a hard time with, the Alpha sent the spear straight through the Sonic Screamer grenade and cleanly severed the power coupling, rendering the machine useless.
Confusion wracked the hunter’s brain as he finally found purchase on the roof below his feet. ‘Their numbers are already dispatched,’ Slayer muttered to himself as he unbounded himself from the cable and sprinted over to the edge as quickly as possible. Stealth was no longer a factor that needed to be considered. ‘What’s the point of taking out the Screamer if they’re all decimated—’
Slayer froze at the edge. The answer was waiting for him. It seemed that those other squadrons from earlier that had left to hunt down the Zebras apparently gave up (or succeeded, which was a grim thought that Slayer filed away for later) and had begun to return. The Sonic Screamer however, was keeping them at bay and preventing them from entering the fray. With the shrill sound now gone...
Combat erupted almost instantly once more, as if the lull from the Screamer’s death never occurred. Dogs burrowed out of the stone boulevards and Zebras began to suffer casualties of their own from the unexpected counteroffensive. The two Alphas turned their attention to Slayer, inviting him over with their paws and smug smiles on their face. It seemed they believed to have out-thought the assassin.
Slayer snorted in irritation. This wasn’t how it was supposed to happen. Those distractions were supposed to keep reinforcements back for several minutes longer. And Slayer didn’t have another Screamer on-hand to return the fight to his favour. Plan A was done with. Thankfully, he still had good ‘ole Plan B.
Kill them all. With explosions.
The bounty hunter reached to his belt once more, undeterred from the snag in his efforts. Slayer’s supply of grenades were limited, but he did have enough to survive any situation that would call for them. Slayer hoped that if he survived, he would still have some grenades left over to get him to Drake. Being stuck without the little buggers really sucked.
With an explosive in each hand, Slayer chucked his right load at the Alpha pair, and the left towards the sudden conflict. Without waiting for either grenade to go off, the bounty hunter activated the Solaris Suit’s speaker-function and bellowed out an order in a booming voice.
“Blind sight!”
The Zebras reacted immediately; they had been briefed on Plan B in case it ever happened. The warriors stopped their fighting, and turned away from the dumbbell shaped projectile now sitting silent and still in the middle of the zone. The Dogs, instead of rationally following suit and looking the other way, decided it wiser to stare in befuddlement at the strange object—
An excruciating flash of burning pure light sprung forth from the casing for but an instant. Diamond Dogs, to Slayer’s Shamon-provided knowledge, had amazing night vision but terrible sight in bright areas. As such, the flashbang grenade had a super-effective reaction amongst the Dogs as they went without the capacity to see for several brief seconds.
Ignoring ringing in their ears, the Zebras took their opportunity and began returning the numbers (and therefore the odds) to their favour. They didn’t even flinch at the fiery explosion that resonated from behind them, nor the screams of anguish as an Alpha perished to the strange weapon of the Interloper.
Slayer smirked, and without much fanfare shot the other surviving Alpha dead from the roof. The plasma grenade did its duty and gave Slayer an opening to shoot uninterrupted by any potential javelins. He wished though he took a moment longer to aim; it would have been more impressive to have killed both with one grenade. It didn’t really matter, Slayer considered. With those Alphas down, any Dogs nearby that noticed would undoubtedly surrender and/or make a hasty retreat. All that was left for him to do was securing the Elders and finishing off Lucien—
A shout from across the way brought Slayer’s immediate focus. The Diamond Dogs had recovered, but they were severely outnumbered. True to Slayer’s hypothesis, several of the canines had yielded and brought their paws over their head in submission as they sunk to their knees. They did not wish to meet a similar fate as their Alphas did to the hands of the metal thing. The Zebras obliged them with a quick blow to the temple.
The beasts that remained though seemed to have gone insane. They barked and growled and snarled ferociously at anything in their way, sometimes cutting down their own during the mad frenzy. Shamon was dead-set in the middle of it, somehow fighting off three of the deranged mutts by himself. The prince was losing ground, and given less than a few seconds would be cut down and dead before he even hit the dirt.
For a brief moment, Slayer and Shamon’s eyes met. They understood immediately.
Slayer’s Sabres found themselves in the assassin’s tight, accurate grasp as two consecutive bolts flew towards the Zebra. Shamon ducked under the jugular-slicing swipe of a spear, uppercutting the offending Diamond Dog with his bamboo staff from his lowered stance. Yelps sounded off, and Shamon’s flanks now had breathing room. Shamon parried another blow as Slayer began running down the row of buildings to get closer to the struggle, their positioning apparently being too risky for the warrior to shoot fire at the remnant of the army.
The Dog forgo'd its spear and launched itself forward. Shamon had been expecting it, but even with that advantage it wasn’t enough. Shamon was clipped by the mass of fury and felt claws dig into his hind-leg. A cry of pain left the prince, but he heroically pressed on and—presented with the opportunity—unloaded his undamaged hind-leg into the inside of the Dog’s knee. However, with the new injury adorning Shamon’s body, he fell unceremoniously to the ground from a newfound lack of balance.
As the canine recovered and raised its bloody paw to finish off the wounded prince, a shriek similar to an eagle sounded off from above. A brief second later, Slayer appeared out of the gloom like a scarlet raven descending upon its prey, and landed on top of the Dog. His katana was unsheathed, and with gravity guiding him, had severed the spine from the skull upon impact.
The battle was over in the blink of an eye.
Slayer left his sword in the corpse as he rushed over to Shamon, who was trying to stand but suddenly didn’t have the strength to. With weak protests, the Zebra allowed Slayer to gently ease him back down to the ground. Nearby tribesman attempted to approach their hurt prince, but with surprising harshness, Slayer dismissed them to get the man bandages and other medical implements.
“I’m... I’m wounded?” The mercenary ignored the confused prince as he began a brief rudimentary field-check. Slayer was no doctor, and hardly qualified to be a medic, but he knew his way around enough physical injuries to treat them all right. Shamon had thankfully only taken shallow penetrations, so no muscles seemed to be permanently damaged. And it seemed that, all in all, Shamon didn’t lose that much blood. That was good. If Shamon died, Slayer would be one guide less.
So why was Shamon going into shock?
Slayer’s eyes widened as the question repeated itself with greater volume. Despite his best attempts at being gentle, the assassin roughly patted the Zebra’s face. “Hey, hold in there, Shamon. Stay awake; we need you up and at ‘im.” No response met Slayer. With booming anger unaided by any speaker, the assassin’s voice rang out. “Where are my bandages?!”
“Right here, Slayer.” Without so much as a muttered ‘thanks’, Slayer snatched the wool straps handed to him by the same Zebra that had happened to survive his personal expedition into the city. Said soldier wanted to voice his displeasure at the brash attitude, but the seriousness of the state they were in and the condition of his prince kept the stallion silent.
A glass vial filled with a crystal clear liquid soon found itself next to the bounty hunter, who quickly uncorked the bottle and began pouring a generous helping onto the slash marks. A hiss of pain seemed to return Shamon to the living world, because a weak, shaky hoof went to push Slayer’s arm away. It didn’t even budge at the protest. “Slayer... stop. Let the doctors take care of me; go after Lucien—”
Shamon relapsed back into unconsciousness as Slayer finished dressing the wound. Shamon’s skin was beginning to feel clammy, and his pulse was abnormally slow, but it would pass. With another gruff order, blankets were soon laid out over the prince. Individuals in shock needed to lie down and stay warm; hopefully the Zebrican doctors could sustain the Zebra when Slayer could not.
Slayer turned to address one of the warriors, who threw up a hasty salute. The particular Zebra felt uncomfortable doing the motion as it was more an action performed by their Equestrian-counterparts, but seeing his prince do it before—even teasingly—inspired the hoof that may or may not have left a bruise upon its swift ascent.
“Have your best doctors tend to Shamon. Now. And send scouts out to the other districts: order a full-scale retreat to this point as garrison. Set torches, build barricades; do whatever you need to in order to fortify this location. Go.” The soldier trotted off without a word with orders that allowed no argument. Pausing only for a moment to harshly unsheathe his katana from the body of the Diamond Dog, Slayer began harshly marching towards the Elder’s tent.
The Zebra from the marketplace (whose name was, at the time, unimportant) swiftly caught up to him. Night was in full-effect, and those last trace glimmers of sunlight had evaporated. Nazar, still brimming with conflict, now fought in the shade. “Slayer, sir; where are you going—?”
“Is Lucien in there?”
The almost-growl of a response brought a swift reply. “Er, yes. We investigated as you asked. From what we could hear, Lucien is still there, apparently awaiting you. They... they have the Elders hostage already. Not dead it seems, thank the Divine...” Slayer gave no immediate answer as the teepee loomed closer and closer, and the Zebra’s eyes widened in revelation. “Sir. Lucien is backed by multiple Alphas. Do you expect to be able to drive them back all by yourself?!”
Stopping just a few paces away from the flaps of the eerily-still tent, Slayer glanced down at his acquaintance’s baffled expression. He spared a singular look behind his shoulder towards Shamon’s form being attended to by doctors. A dark, sadistic tone entered Slayer’s voice. One that caused the Zebra to backpedal away from the assassin as he walked through the tent. “Drive them back? Oh, no. I have something else in mind.”
Starbrought
“I have to admit; even after all this time, the Serenade still looks relatively the same,” Cadance said simply, eyes caressing the deck of the ship. Silver Flash and Shining Armor stood to her sides, while Drake hung back, lazily watching the clouds drift by. It had been about two hours since they set sail, and the breeze was pleasant as they progressed through Equestrian air-space.
Silver gave a nonchalant shrug, looking over the pegasi thoroughly cleaning the bow with immaculate precision. “I liked the colour too much to change it. Though the steel-plating is definitely new since the last time you were on here.”
Cadance grimaced. “And the arcane cannons.”
Another shrug left the captain. “Mercenary work is hardly a safe occupation. This is a military vessel, at the end of the day. Completely legal, of course,” she spoke with a grin in the direction of Shining. He just gave a nod and a grunt, seemingly more interested in keeping an eye on Drake than partaking in conversation. Raising her voice slightly to cover the distance, she addressed her guest. “Why do you look so down over there?”
Drake glanced over in a deadpanned expression. “Because I’m still under arrest?”
“Oh, right.” With a nervous laugh, Flash waved it away. “Well, come over here. Socialize! Don’t be like the stick-in-the-mud guards.” She promptly ignored both Shining’s snort and Cadance’s giggle. Huffing gently at ever being compared to the guards, Drake approached the trio, though his two 'attendees' did not leave his side.
The Tempest Serenade was definitely an impressive feat of engineering, considering the fact that the Equestrians didn’t seem to have the technology to produce a flight-worthy vessel without some amount of magic, Drake mused. It was without question a formidable ship, with apparently ample space to house crew, cargo, and containers that went ‘kaboom’; all important things when you were a freelancing ship. Drake gave an approving nod. “Your ship isn’t my Ethereal, but it is impressive nonetheless.”
Silver Flash smirked. “Glad to see you approve.” Lazily, she motioned towards some of the crew milling about the deck. “Since the Serenade runs on one of them new Mythril engines, my lads are really only here to man the guns and to maintain its innards. As such, they tend to not have much to do.”
“Is that why you deprive your 'mates' the joy of piloting the ship?” Cadance asked, though not sarcastically.
A shrug and a roll of her eyes was the captain’s only response as she maneuvered the wheel in her aura. “I’m not comfortable with a helmsmen, unless I am preoccupied. Why assign someone to fly your ship when you can fly it yourself? If anyone is going to crash the Serenade, you can bet your flank it’d be me.”
“I know the feeling,” Drake acquiesced from his spot behind the trio. “I don’t let either of my crewmates so much as touch the navigation panel. Barring their inability to fly the Ethereal, it doesn’t feel right to me either letting someone else fly my ship.”
A moment passed, before Flash gave him an appraising grin. “Nice to know I’m not alone in the department, Mr. Shields.” Drake merely nodded, and the human returned his attention back over the railing. Shining became her next target. “And you, guard boy: would you stop drilling holes in the back of Mr. Shields’ head?”
The Sergeant blinked in surprise, but gave a level look towards the mare. “Sorry, miss Silver Flash; but he is still a prisoner, and is still under my jurisdiction. Until we reach the Zebrican Desert once more, my eyes are staying on him.”
“How disturbing...” Drake quipped. not removing his gaze from the clouds. Brows furrowing, he leaned over the railing. There was something in the distant bank of white; a dark shadow, with a similar build to the Serenade. A moment and a cloud passed, and when both were gone, so was the specter. He merely shook his head, and turned back to the others. “So, when is our expected arrival time?”
Flash pulled out some ancient device (to Drake’s standards) from seemingly nowhere, examining it quietly. Giving a nod, she tucked it away back into... wherever. “We appear to be making good time. At the speed we’re going, we should reach these coordinates before noon tomorrow.” Drake nodded; that would have to suffice. Hopefully the Ethereal didn’t get too badly damaged, Drake prayed.
A brief silence settled over the quartet before Cadance spoke up. “We have also arranged to attach your ship to the bottom of the Tempest.” She raised a hoof to stop Drake’s anticipated asking. “This will happen regardless if it can fly by itself. At least until we return to Canterlot; then you may do with it as you will.”
“I thought my full pardon went into effect the instant we finished with my ship.”
“It does,” Cadance affirmed. “We just need to return to Canterlot as one group. A precaution.”
An irritated sigh left Drake, but he decided not to push his luck. He was thankful he was at least getting the Ethereal back. He could afford it not being in his immediate possession once more for an additional day or so. “If you must.”
Flash abruptly slammed her hoof against the deck. “Let’s go to my quarters. There’s something I need to show you three.” Leaving her present company in a rush, she hurried over to the other side of the balcony where the controls for the Serenade rested. “Elaweda! You’re on pilot duty. Make sure the lads get dinner and the shifts play out.” One of the crewmates trotted up, and it surprised both Cadance and Shining to discover him to be a Zebra.
“Uh...” Drake stood, blinking at the striped individual now maintaining the wheel of the ship. “Not to accidentally be racist, but... what is that?”
The captain raised an eyebrow, but waved it off. “Eh, you’re an alien; I’ll let it slide. Ella here,” she paused at the stallion snorting, “is the Serenade’s quartermaster. He’s one of the Zebra, Equestria’s cousins from the desert that your ship crashed in, Mr. Shields. Also my most loyal crew-member.”
“Uh...” Shining stood, blinking at the character currently ignoring their conversation. “Not to accidentally be racist either, but... why do you have a Zebra amongst your crew—?”
He was promptly interrupted by Flash suddenly unloading a slap across his muzzle. From Drake’s perspective, it might’ve even been a punch. The Sergeant stood baffled as she glared him down. “How could you ask such a racist and insensitive question, you pissant?! Are you saying Zebra aren’t allowed to work with Equestrians?”
The stallion’s eyes widened to an insurmountable degree. “N-no; that wasn’t what I was implying at all—!”
“You have some nerve, guard boy,” Flash whispered dangerously. Cadance could only stand on the sidelines along with Drake, watching the situation play out with a baffled expression. “I pardoned Mr. Shields because he is a foreigner. You, however, have... no... excu—” She suddenly stopped herself, fighting off a surge of laughter. She failed. “Ha ha ha! Ah, I’m just messin’ with ya! Your face was perfect.”
Before anyone could hope to question or comment on the events that had just occurred, Flash wandered off towards the interior of the ship, waving along her company. They quickly followed, if only to get distance between themselves and the fuming stallion at the rear of their pack. Drake glanced up, giving a small sigh of relief upon entry. “I am so glad I’m short enough to fit in this hallway.”
Silver nodded. “Yeah, we get some taller folks in here sometimes to help with loading cargo. I was thinking to expanding it further for our pegasi, but I don’t have enough in the budget. At least, not yet.” A predatory grin was flashed back towards Cadance. The princess merely shook her head slowly with a smirk.
Eventually they seemed to arrive at their destination, because Flash stopped in her tracks before a seemingly-inconspicuous door and ushered them inside. “Here we are; my personal quarters,” she said with a grin. The three guests could only raise their eyebrows at the scene. It looked more like a small wall-less apartment than a mere bedroom.
“Is that a liquor cabinet?”
Flash’s grin never left her face as she trotted over to it. “Why yes it is, my fine alien friend. It is also the reason why we are here.” Randomly grabbing one of the bottles in her magic, she brought out several shot-glasses and began heartily filling them. “I figured we might as well celebrate our reunion, Cadey.”
The princess twitched. “I thought we had an agreement that you would never call me that ever again, ever.”
She waved it off in a way that seemed like she wasn’t really that sorry, before she floated over everyone’s respective glass. Cadance reluctantly took hers while Drake happily nabbed it the instant it came in range. Shining’s, however, met a deadpanned expression. “Do you realize you’re giving alcohol to both royalty and a guard?”
An actual disgruntled look overcame Flash’s face. “Jeez. I thought you were a prune, but this is ridiculous. Get over yourself, guard boy.” With a tired sigh, Shining accepted the offered drink.
“What is this, if I may ask?” Cadance questioned, gently sniffing their soon-to-be beverage. To her credit, she didn’t keel over and become contact drunk by the smell alone. Her magic, however, did falter slightly around the glass before she regained control. “Oh my; that’s positively—”
“Strongest stuff this side of the skies,” the captain proclaimed proudly. “Minotaurs call it ‘Red Bull’, and is one of the most hard-to-get whiskeys out there. This is designed to knock ‘em out in a single shot.” Before either Cadance or Shining could voice their disapproval at such a powerful concoction, Drake knocked his back. The action froze them.
A few seconds passed, before Drake frowned. “That actually felt pretty weak.”
“What?! No way!” In a fit, Silver Flash downed hers. She waited a moment before she groaned. “Ugh. Did it get watered down, or something? I know it’s enchanted to take a lot of kick out of it so we can enjoy it, but come on! What a gip!” Apparently assured that the alcohol content wasn’t as high as anticipated, Shining and Cadance efficiently finished their rounds. They too, seemed to barely get buzzed by the drink. “This blows!”
As Silver continued on with her rather-childish tirade about alcohol, Drake stared at the bottle set down on the table. While he couldn’t understand any of the text written on it, he could see a small timer on the side. His eyes widened. “Uh oh...” And in that exact moment, Drake went from sober to pissed-drunk.
Cadance noticed the sudden glazed look on his face, and she tentatively raised a hoof. “Uh... are you alright?” Silver Flash glanced over in confusion, and saw what was happening. Her eyes widened as well in revelation, and just like Drake, the alcohol chose that moment to strike. The sheer force of the drink kicking in caused her to stumble.
Simultaneously, both Cadance and Shining fell under the same state that was plaguing the two ship captains. In one fell swoop, they were all relatively shit-faced. Drake gave a lethargic smile. “I think—*hic*—that it has a bit of a delay.” Gently, the others nodded. After much effort, they all grabbed themselves chairs and just sat, staring at one another.
“Na... now what?”
Silver Flash blinked slowly, eyes out of sync as she did so. “I dunno.” Her eyes scrunched up in irritation. “Give me a moment. This kinda... sucks.” Taking a shaky breath, she began channeling magic into her horn. Several seconds passed, before she sighed. “Ah. Much better.”
Drake blearily looked down at the captain of the Serenade. “What did you just do...?”
She waved it off, before she began putting more magic into her horn. It suddenly expanded, and bubbled out like a shockwave, washing over the other occupants of the room. The aura lingered on their persons, and after a few moments, vanished. Drake blinked, and shook his head. “Oh, I see. That spell weakened the alcohol. Interesting.”
Silver nodded her head. “That was just too strong to be enjoyable. I’m going to visit that enchanter the next time I’m in Minotaur territory; he had some nerve to try and sell me that.” Glancing over towards Cadance and Shining, she waved to get their attention. “How are you two holding up now?”
Judging by the still rather-absent expression on their faces, there was still too much in them. The captain shrugged; it was probably just one tier above a buzz. “I’ll take that as a yes.” Looking with disdain towards the bottle of ‘Red Bull’, she scoffed and sent it off back towards the cabinet. A new bottle arrive to take its place. “Mr. Shields. Let’s have a little contest.”
Drake raised an eyebrow. “Are you seriously challenging me to a drinking contest after that?”
A cheeky grin appeared on her face as she poured the bottle’s contents into their two respective glasses. “Maybe. It’s not like we can do it with Cadey and guard boy over there.” Drake flicked his eyes over to see the two of them had already slumped over on the table, succumbed to the drink at some point during their talk. “Wow. Pair of light-weights.”
He simply shrugged. “Eh, sure; I’ll do some rounds with you. That spell almost destroyed too much of the buzz.” With a small, silent toast, the two tipped their liquor back. An appraising smile appeared on Drake’s face. “Man. Not pulling any punches tonight, are you?”
“I like a challenge,” Silver said dismissively. “I’m not one for those pansy drinks. Cocktails, and the like. It’s a shame I don’t have any rum on me. The damn supply we buy always vanishes, and not a single soul of my crew says they know where it went.”
In veiled amusement, Drake shot back his second glass. “And you call yourself a pirate?”
“Ex-pirate, Mr. Shields. Ex-pirate...” Trailing off, her eyes looked down towards the table in thought. Silver's sudden mood-swing cause Drake to straighten up slightly. Tapping the surface quietly with a hoof, she began speaking in a softer voice. “You remember when guard boy said I turned over a new leaf earlier, right?” Drake gave a nod. “Well... I, ah, lost someone close to me back in my days of piracy. After that, it just wasn’t the same. So, I went straight.”
“...I understand where you’re coming from,” Drake said after a while. Silver Flash raised her eyebrows in surprise. “I lost someone as well. Though, it kinda sent me into piracy rather than out of it.”
“Who was it?”
A sad smile splayed over his face. “My wife, actually.”
A few seconds passed in silence. Eventually, Silver Flash stood up from her cushioned seat and hopped down. Circling around the oval table, she stopped herself in-front of Drake. Before he could hope to question or stop her, Flash stood up on her hind-legs and wrapped her forehooves around Drake’s arm. Drake stood stock-still as she talked. “I see. It was my husband’s death that put me off, you know.” Bitter laughter left her as she let go. “We are more alike than we’d probably wish, Mr. Shields.”
Drake simply nodded, still processing that show of friendship. “Perhaps...”
Pensively, Silver stood there and bit her lip. Hesitantly, she spoke up. “Uh... what was her name?” The suddenly anxious expression on Drake’s face caused her to verbally backpedal. “I mean, only if it’s alright with you. You honestly don’t have to tell me if you don’t want—”
“Jenna.” The word silenced her. Drake wasn’t looking in her direction anymore, though. His head was bowed, and his shoulder-length hair obscured his gaze as he stared blankly at the floor. “Her name was Jenna. She died during a riot on my homeworld, between the rebels there and the Alliance.” He settled his head into his propped-up hand. “Twenty-seven died in that conflict. Explosions in the crossfire off-railed one of the commercial trams, and it...”
Silver rested a soothing hoof on his knee. The motion caused any further explanation in Drake's throat to die down and fade. Several more seconds passed as they sat there, drinks temporarily forgotten. “I’m sorry for your loss,” Silver Flash stated quietly.
A grim smirk entered her vision from him. “Don’t be. I’m serious; don’t pity me. There is no reason to apologize for something you could not prevent. Besides, that was... many years ago.” A second passed, before he patted her still-extended hoof. “But... thanks. I haven’t talked about that in quite some time.”
“No problem,” Flash said with a comforting smile. It fell though as she stared at his still-bound wrists. “Are they going to keep you like that until we’ve reached the deserts?”
Drake jiggled the chain of the cuffs. “I guess. Her Poniness over there seemed neutral about it, but her lapdog next to her seemed adamant about my binds.” Looking back down in irritation after glaring at Shining, he noted with surprise that his cuffs were now clattering to the floor. Drake looked back up just in time to see the final ebbs of magic leaving Silver’s horn.
“If you’re going to be pardoned tomorrow, then there’s no reason to treat you so harshly, is there?” Drake blinked, but made a move to thank her. She raised a hoof before any words left his lips. “Don’t mention it. Seriously, don’t. If they ask, be sure to mention that you lockpicked it, not I, okay?” Getting a simple nod in response, Flash grinned (though slightly tinged in bitter sadness) and raised the bottle. “Let’s drink the night away, Mr. Shields.”
And so they did.
Starbrought
“How the bloody hell do you open this thing?!” Yuri was not having a good time. Ever since he had beaten Diamond and taken his communication device, he had been trying everything to tease the little crystal into giving out its secrets. And so far, nothing had worked.
There was no speaker, dial-pad or screen. Hell, there wasn’t even a power button that he could see. Just a perfectly formed red crystal with no imperfections on it. However, there was a tiny mark on the top part of the crystal that appeared to be made out of another kind of material.
“Is this how you open it…? *bzzt* Ow!” Yuri threw the crystal against the wall of the closet he was hiding in due to it suddenly shocking him without warning. He looked at the red mark on his left hand where he had attempted to open the crystal. It was shaped in the exact pattern as the mark on top of the crystal, and it did not seem to be causing any pain.
His eyes shifted their attention to the crystal, which was laying rather harmlessly on the floor of the closet. Yuri slowly picked it up with his gloved hand, hoping that the crystal would not suddenly decide to shock his glove and possibly make a very big explosion. That did not happen, and Yuri once again found himself staring at the crystal.
“Why are you not cooperating? Do you have natural bias towards aliens, because that’s not very nice.” Yuri looked over the entire crystal again, and groaned in disappointment as nothing new was found. Why did he always have to get sent to the places where nothing would go his way? First that bar on Canyon, and now wherever the hell he was had joined the long list.
“Sergeant Diamond! This is Marshall Cobalt of Blackrock Mountain; do you copy Sergeant?” The crystal suddenly burst into life, causing Yuri to jump up and slam his head into the short ceiling out of surprise. “What happened down there? I just had two privates rush into my office and blabber on about a level-five breach and that I need to send the Titans down there at once. Is this some kind of joke or initiation that I was not informed of?”
“Fuck that hurt.” Yuri rubbed his head and felt a knot developing through his shaggy hair. He groaned in annoyance before realising what exactly was happening. 'Someone is calling for me. Correction: for Diamond, not myself. This Marshall Cobalt is probably the same person that Diamond’s friends went to go alert. I should have killed those Griffins when I had the chance.'
“Sergeant Diamond, are you there?” The Marshals voice had a sort of swagger to it. It was had a bit of a funny tone to it, but below it was the crisp and precise voice of an officer. Yuri gulped as several memories came back, only from him to rebury them deep within his brain. He continued to stare at the now glowing crystal, confused as all hell. 'What the hell are you? Gah, if only I had the Ethereal and and my tools with me now.'
“Respond soldier!” Yuri reached his hand to pick up the crystal, before pulling it back. 'Let’s keep quiet and see how this goes. No need to alert him right away that Diamond is down for a while just yet. Besides, I have no idea if this crystal has any sort of call-locator device in it. They would if they had any brains, which those last morons didn’t.'
“Sergeant, if you’re still there: hang on. I’m sending the Titans down to you now. They should be able to take out anything that this creature can throw at you. They’ll be coming down hallway D8. Hold on tight, Cobalt out.” There was a small ding, and the crystal stopped glowing at once, leaving the closet to be lit by Yuri’s glove alone. The room/closet was nearly silent, as Yuri’s breathing was the only thing that could be heard.
“Well well well, this just got a bit more interesting. Whoever or whatever this Titan Squad is, the Marshall seems to think that they can easily take me down.” Yuri put his arms around his head and closed his eyes.
'Well, I’ll have some time to think of a plan, unless some janitor decides they want this exact mop from this closet. So, what do I have to my advantage at the current moment? For one, I have the element of stealth and surprise on my side, as far as I know. They don’t know exactly where I am, but they have a ton of people that can act as scouts for them, so I have to be careful where I move.' Yuri mentally noted that pretty much everyone that could be down here could be a soldier, so he would have to be insanely careful where he went. His eyes went down towards the crystal again, and a smirk appeared on his face.
‘I also have this crystal that seems to be a communication device, so I have the chance of intercepting their communications without them knowing. That means that anyone I do see, I have to take out as soon as possible. However, they don’t know anything about me or my technology. Oh, oh! I know what I can do. Sorry Drake, but I’m taking this one out of your book, and somewhat of mine.’ Yuri began to formulate a plan that would hopefully allow him to get out of this whole base and meetup with the rest of the crew. And it was a damn good one, if it worked.
Yuri reopened his eyes and looked out at the small closet. A slight smirk appeared on his face as he mentally put the steps in order to achieve his plan. He stood up and stretched his arms, which had gotten sore from being behind his head. He stood back up, being careful this time to avoid slamming his head into the low ceiling again. He put his hand on the door and began to turn to start the first step of his plan.
A massive boom of sound slammed into Yuri, forcing him to dive down to his knees. Another boom went off, followed by another, and another, all within rapid succession of each other. He held the same position with one hand over his good ear as the booms continued, before stopping abruptly. Yuri counted thirteen of them in all.
"What the fuck was that?” Yuri took his hand of his ear and stood back up, a bit scared to open up the door again. “Those sounded close to sonic booms, but that’s impossible. I really doubt that Griffins can break the sound barrier, because that would be overpowered as hell if they could.” Yuri took a quick look-over of his body to make sure nothing was damaged or broken, before taking a minute to catch his breath. He reached down and picked up the crystal before shoving it into his pocket.
“Well, I better get this plan on track.” Yuri took one last big breath, before slowly opening the door to ensure that no one was directly outside of it. From what he could see, there was nothing to the right of the door. He pushed the door open some more, and held in a couple of cuss words as the door creaked.
Yuri peeked his head out and looked to his left and right again, before deciding that it was safe to go back into the hallway. He could still hear the faint booms in the distance, but they appeared to be moving away from his position, which was nice. He stepped out into the hallway, and began to move left as he hugged the wall for some sort of cover and camouflage.
“This is either going to end really well, or really badly.”
Starbrought
Sunlight filtered unabashed across Drake’s face as he slept. The humming of the engines driving the Serenade through the air thrummed underfoot, creating a relaxing state that nearly guaranteed a deep sleep. So it could be forgiven that he seemed to not notice the figure standing over him, staring down in amusement. “Wow. He looks trashed...”
“I’m sure he can blame that on you, Silvy,” Cadance murmured as she saddled up next to the captain.
A snort left the unicorn. “Who was complaining earlier about nicknames?”
Princess Cadance stuck a teasing tongue out at Silver Flash, one that was reciprocated and mirrored. The two giggled amongst themselves, before returning their attention to the alien at their hooves. He really was a tall being when he was laid out, Cadance thought. A little over two ponies long. “We should probably wake him for breakfast.”
Silver Flash nodded. “Yeah, you’re right.” Before she could swing a hoof back though to gently kick Drake’s ribs, one of his hands shot out and stopped the foreleg in its tracks. Considering the small groan that parted his lips, the action was reflex instead of intentional. The two mares stood stock-still as his eyes cracked open, and glanced over.
“...Why the hell am I on the deck?”
Smirks adorned both of the girls as Silver twisted her hoof inside of Drake's grip and pulled him forward to help right him. “You had a bit too much of drink last night, Mr. Shields,” Silver Flash stated. Her usual grin was prevalent on her muzzle, except unlike the night previous this one was genuine and carefree. “There might have been some straddling the arcane cannons on your part.”
He grimaced at his imagination conjuring up that mental image. “Ugh, great.” Finally standing on his own two feet, he made a total of two steps before he stumbled and had to grasp one of the railings for support. “Yep. Hangover is definitely a thing right now.”
“Here; I can fix that for ya,” Silver muttered. Closing her eyes gently, she set her horn against Drake’s exposed arm and began channeling magic. Drake scrunched up his brow at the sensation; her horn felt faintly... fuzzy? What the devil?
He decided to ignore this newfound fact by the sudden clarity in his mind. Now free of the binds of alien booze, Drake reclined on the railing casually. “Ah, thanks lass. It was hard to think with all the alcohol still in my system.” His eyes squinted as he took in the duo in front of him. “Where’s our resident stick-in-the-mud?”
“Still sleeping off his hangover. I’d do my custom spell on him also, but it was oh-so-draining to do it on you and Cadey here, and I’m simply exhausted!” The dramatics in Silver Flash’s words were betrayed by her sudden laughter, courtesy of Cadance giving her a flat look. “Okay, so maybe it’s revenge because he’s such a prune in my books.”
“I hate to interrupt, but do you serve breakfast on this thing, or what?”
Realization sparked across Silver’s face. “Ah, that’s why I woke you up! Get down to the mess hall; the cooks will give ya as much as you like. Me and Her Highness here,” Silver Flash giggled, “have some business topside we need to discuss. Is that fine with you, Mr. Shields?”
A grunt left him, and with a polite nod towards the two mares, Drake stalked off through the main doorway that led to the catacombs of the airship. Silver Flash and Cadance gently trotted over towards the controls, where the Zebra from before was still piloting in his captain’s stead. Upon seeing her approach, he took a few steps away from the wheel and tipped his head. “Capt’n.”
“Mornin’, Ella. How’re the skies today?” Silver asked as she resumed her position as helmsmen, smirking gently at his death glare from the nickname. “Sorry as well for having you run the night shift in my absence.”
Goodnaturedly, he waved it off and let it go. “It’s fine, Capt’n. Nothing ya haven’t made me done before. The wind blows in our favour; we ought to reach my kin’s lands within the hour.” Giving a smaller nod towards Cadance, he made his way to the opposite side of the balcony, stopping a crew member and giving him instructions.
“He didn’t seem to have the accent that I’ve seen from other Zebras,” Cadance noted.
“That’s because Elaweda’s from a chain of islands off the coast of the Zebrican Desert, actually. From what I gather, his ‘kin’ tend to stay in their own lands. Especially the ones from them islands.” Flash shrugged. “I think his accent kinda rubbed off on me, and then onto the rest of the crew. It’s contagious.” A cheshire grin staked its claim on her muzzle. “Plus, it reminds me of my pirate days. Argh!”
Cadance chuckled at that. “You haven’t changed a bit after all these years, have you?”
“Ah, but you have.” Cadance’s questioning look caused Silver to wave a hoof at her. “Look at you; a member of full-fledged royalty. I remember the last time I saw you, you were babysitting in your off-time and attending that Academy in Canterlot.”
“And I remember back then that the Serenade was a glorified floating rust-bucket.”
Silver stuck her tongue out once more and gently tapped Cadance on the shoulder. “Bah, you’re full of it. Same as back then. Maybe you haven’t changed that much—” Suddenly, Silver Flash stopped her sentence, staring with a gross intensity out on the horizon. Before Cadance could ask what was the matter, the captain began bellowing orders. “Hostile frigate on the horizon! Prepare the cannons!”
“What?!” Cadance sputtered, even as the crew exploded in a frenzy of action. Swords were unsheathed, arcane cannons were primed, and in a matter of moments the Serenade was ready for a war. “Is that seriously a—”
A hoof was jammed into Cadance’s mouth, preventing her from speaking further. With a glare from the captain, it was obvious she should be quiet. Using her now-free hoof on the wheel, Silver began sending the ship into an enormous cloud bank. Despite the puffs not being all that solid, there was definitely resistance as they entered the thick of it. Wispy entrails hung about the deck like a mist.
Silver Flash grabbed the intercom system in her magical grasp, eyes unusually serious. “Engine Crew: full-stop,” she said in a level tone. Instantly, the Serenade lurched, but steadily slowed down. Two malformed anchors fell from the ship, enchanted to latch onto the clouds and keep the vessel in place.
And then, there was silence.
“Not a sound, lads.” With the heavy quiet on the deck of the ship, Silver’s voice carried across its entirety, despite it being a whisper. For several long minutes, they sat there, suspended in the air, waiting for the ship to pass by. After nearly ten terse minutes of zero activity, Silver whispered to Elaweda. “Get a pegasus to scout out what’s happening out there. Make sure they have a spell-glass on them.”
The Zebra gave a nod, and whistled gently. One of the pegasi landed, and the instructions were relayed in short order. With several flaps of his wings, the pegasus launched himself to the crow’s nest and beyond. Several anxious seconds passed, before he returned. “Ship seems to have left, Capt’n. Can’t see a wisp of her anywhere.”
Silver Flash nodded, and relaxed her stance. It transmitted to the other crew members, and soon they were back to their relatively calm selves. Cadance made a move to question, but Flash beat her to it. “We’re in Redhorn’s territory now. Him and his little fleet tends to patrol this band of the skies.”
The princess gasped. “Wasn’t he detained and captured after the stunt he pulled at Diamond Pass?”
“Unfortunately, he got away,” Flash muttered. The engines kicking back on caused the Serenade to gently rise up through the cloud bank. “Redhorn has been hunting me down ever since I betrayed the Pirate Lord and turned away from that life. Says he’s doing it because I shouldn’t be able to leave my days of pirating—”
“Brace!” Before the unicorn’s cry for cover could even fully connect, an unbridled silo of cannonballs ripped through a wall of cumulonimbus and struck the Serenade. The force of the shots actually began to tip the vessel, nearly sending multiple members overboard in the chaos. A resounding shout rang out as the impact faded. “Hostile frigate is attacking!”
Silver Flash’s eyes widened, and a short curse left under her breath at the ship across the way from them. Three rows of inferior models of the Serenade’s arcane cannons smoked from their discharges, and even from that distance, several globs could be seen recharging the weapons. Silver’s mouth turned into a sneer. “The Silent Rogue.”
Elaweda stepped in, his strange accent reverberating across the expanse of the two ships. “Prepare to return fire! Cannons set to Frost!” The cannons responded to the command, alloys shifting to a icy-blue glow that seemed to chill the very air around them. A grim line arose on his muzzle. “Fire!”
Several balls of frozen wrath jettisoned from the Serenade and began to strike the hull of the Silent Rogue. Its effect was immediate, for sheets of ice began to form and seize up the batteries charging for another volley. A handful of the mechanisms even detonated, incinerating those unlucky enough to be in the vicinity. Silver Flash grinned. “Lads, the Silent Rogue is crippled! Toss way the grappling hooks! Reel them in!”
Affirmative shouts rang from the Serenade’s crew as a trio of hooks from below-deck fired out and latched onto whatever they could find purchase on. With the engines currently reliving an ice age, the Silent Rogue didn’t have a chance in evading or breaking away. The clinking of chain being withdrawn sounded across the space, and soon the two ships were being pulled towards one another.
“Swivels!” Silver ordered. “Fire-at-will at any of Redhorn’s dogs!” The two unicorns on the starboard side nodded, and began manipulating the railing-mounted devices to fire upon the crew. At their current range, some of the rival unicorns began firing bolts of magic at the Serenade in a vain attempt to shake them. A vicious grin crossed Silver’s face. “Lads! Ready the ropes, and prepare to board—!”
She was interrupted by a silo. From the opposite side.
“Larboard, Capt’n! Another of Redhorn’s ships!” The lookout shouted. His eyes widened as he flew down from his perch on the crow’s nest, just barely fast enough to dodge the round that incinerated the position. “It’s the Emerald Mist!”
Silver Flash gaped. “This was an ambush...?”
Cadance’s eyes flickered across the three ships engaging in battle. Elaweda began orchestrating the port side of the Serenade to counter the advance of the new ship, with meager success. Almost ignoring the firestorm being unleashed upon it, the Emerald Mist rammed the side of Flash’s vessel, effectively pinning them between the two pirate ships. Suddenly, she remembered where she had seen this before; a maneuver that Shining Armor had explained to her once. “A pincer movement...”
“Oldest trick in the damn books!” Silver Flash yelled suddenly, her eyes alight in righteous fury. “Hold the deck of the Serenade! Repel the boarding parties!” With a growl, Silver’s magic sprung to life. Two swords, discreetly hidden amongst the vest she often wore, became known and twirled about their master. With a theatrical battle-cry, she raised one blade over her head as a tucked-away hood engulfed her head. “Give no quarter! Fight to your last breath!”
As Silver Flash flung herself over the railing, and began to engage the rival ship’s forces herself, six of Cadance’s guards appeared from the bowels of the ship and surrounded her flanks. “Your Highness! We must pull back into the ship!” one of them shouted as he fired a beam at an advancing pirate, only to paralyze them.
Princess Cadance could only stand there, staring out at the deck before her. Enemies from both the Silent Rogue and the Emerald Mist poured over the sides, steadily occupying every space that they could. Silver Flash was in the midst of it, dual swords swinging about in a lethal dance, her own crew fighting in close-proximity. Cadance frowned and reluctantly backed up as asked towards the door. “Where is Sergeant Armor and the rest of my guard?”
“Preparing an escape-route below deck for you, Your Majesty,” another guard said as the assembled soldiers used their bodies to create a physical barrier between any pirates and Cadance while they retreated. “We cannot locate Sergeant Armor, nor the prisoner.”
Cadance’s eyes widened, and she stopped before she entered the relative-safety of the interior of the Serenade. The prisoner? Her mind went back to the entire reason why they were even on their journey. Her brow furrowed, and she unloaded her own magic, adding to the defense against the pirates taking a sudden interest in her presence to buy time. “Where is Drake Shields?”
The multiple guards glanced at one another, but cumulatively sighed and stood their ground at the entrance. “We do not know. He was last sighted in the mess hall, but vanished soon after the pirates were initially spotted. The prisoner most likely escaped amongst the chaos, Your Highness.”
Hatches on the deck suddenly threw themselves open, revealing reinforcements for Silver Flash and her present crew as they climbed and flew out to enter the fray. The sound of battle—metal clashing against metal, the cries of the dying, the explosions and zaps of spells whizzing around the three locked-ships—was deafening.
“Your Highness!” The sudden arrival of a new guard seized Cadance’s attention. “The soldier we posted in the hold to watch over the prisoner’s equipment was just found incapacitated. All of his possessions are gone, and one of the lifeboats that was on the Serenade before boarding is now unaccounted for.”
Cadance quickly trotted across the width of the ship, igniting her horn to dispatch anyone that got in her way. The guards practically had to sprint to keep up with her pace and to prevent any flanking attacks. Upon arriving at the railing, she looked down, just in time to see the distant object of what was most-likely the missing lifeboat floating down to the ground. Her mouth fell open. “Did he seriously—?!”
A sudden explosion rocked the Serenade and stopped Cadance’s question in its tracks. A horrible groaning sound began to echo in the skies, as if metal was being forcibly crushed and ripped apart. The ship lurched, and for a moment Cadance thought that the Serenade was about to go into a free-fall.
This fear was assuaged when the Emerald Mist detonated.
Abrupt whooping and hollering came from the burning vessel. Cadance’s eyes quickly found the source; there was an individual standing on the Mist’s now-mangled crow’s nest. A very bipedal individual. Said individual, who could be no other than Drake, grabbed hold of a rope and jumped. As the husk of the former pirate-ship fell, he swung across the way and barely landed on the deck of the Serenade.
He stumbled slightly upon landing, but gave a grin as he tossed aside the torch he’d clearly used to bring down the Mist overboard. “You can thank me later. In gold.” He drew his cutlass and activated it, the glowing blue blade giving his face a sinister look. “I think I need to show these so-called ‘pirates’ how it’s really done.”
Starbrought
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ETA on part 2?
4846075 in 3 years
4845838 *pulls back on chair, tipping you onto the floor* That pleased me greatly!
im glad to see more of this story! The excitement is exciting!
I was drowning happily in this chapter...y u stahp eet?
4847124 And I shall eagerly await them in all due time. *walks off to play Borderlands, having had his fun*
I think you mean:
"Decisively evading a salvo that nearly turned him into a Slayer-kebab"
I don't even know where to begin on the use of the word "Decisively"
So many grammatical errors in this chapter.
MOAR!