Chapter 8 - Recon
Cedar Shipyards - Southwest end of the Ocean
“Still just the two ships?” Barnabas asked, his voice a low rumble at her shoulder as he passed.
“Yeah,” Blade, bringing the binoculars around once more and sweeping her view across the distant bay. “Still just the two.” She twisted the binocular’s eyepiece, the image in front of her eyes blurring and then refocusing on the second of the two frigates patrolling the entryway to the bay.
“Any sign they’re suspicious yet?” Frost asked, once again twisting the rope she was using in her hooves.
“No,” Blade said, shifting her weight and fighting the urge to stretch her wings. Being pressed up between the gunwale and the side of the cabin with the lid of a wooden crate over her wasn’t the most comfortable option, but it was a lot less conspicuous than simply standing on the back of the ship and staring directly at the pirate vessels. “They’re looking this way every so often, but so far the plan’s working.”
“Good,” Barnabas said. “Can it stop working soon? I never liked being an ice dredger in the first place. Fake acting it isn’t any better.”
“Not long now,” Blade said, shifting the binoculars back over to the other frigate. Like the first, it was anchored slightly against the ice by a long, curved spike that kept it from sliding, but she could see the activity of the crew, faint shapes moving across the deck as they kept watch. “I just want to make sure there aren’t any more ships hiding in that shipyard before we go blazing in."
The shipyard itself was at the far end of the bay, more than a half a mile beyond the two Bloodhoof frigates, but even at that distance the structure still dwarfed the two ships. It was massive, more massive than anything she’d seen on the ice so far; a long, flat warehouse with a gently sloped roof that was several hundred feet across, and more than twice that long. It didn’t have the same eye-catching quality that a building like The Chandelier had enjoyed, but it was an impressive piece of engineering all the same, especially with the backing of the dark-green pines that surrounded it. Just looking at the crossbeams that held up the massive roof, she could see that the thickest of them had to at least be six or seven feet thick, maybe more. It was a bit hard to tell as far away as they were.
Advantages and disadvantages, she thought as she adjusted the glasses again, trying to bring into focus the masts standing beyond the closed gateways to the shipyard. Though the upper levels of the shipyard were open to the elements, the lower levels were hidden from her view by an angled wooden wall designed to block the wind. And since none of the gates were open at the moment ...
Things are accidentally working in the Bloodhooves' favor at the moment, Blade thought as she tried to get the glasses to focus on the distant masts, the only bit of the ships she could see. At the current distance they looked like toothpicks. Even with these binoculars … She lowered them in frustration, blinking rapidly as her eyes were forced to readjust. It was no use, she wasn’t going to get any useful information on any additional ships the Bloodhooves had in the area unless someone opened one of the gates.
Still … She brought the binoculars back up, panning her view across the top of the shipyard. While it was still distant, her eyes were sharp enough to pick out what looked like some light construction along the roofline. Someone was doing something out there, though she couldn’t quite see what.
Probably better we know what it is before we push anything further, she thought, swinging the binoculars around for one last quick look at the two frigates. It’s probably in our best interest to beat it before those boats get too curious and come out for a look. If that happened, they’d be outmatched heavily—one of the frigates alone was packing more firepower than their meager reconfigured ice dredger. The long, widespread U-shape of the bay gave both the frigates an advantageous defensive position for protecting the shipyard, and with the long, open view there was plenty of time for either of them to intercept any approaching vessels.
Speaking of which, Blade thought, lowering the glasses once more and twisting her body beneath the crate. We’d better get a move on. She winced as the rough wood tugged at her feathers, forcing them to bend back in the wrong direction as she pulled herself free of her concealment.
“All right,” she said as she backed around the front of the cabin, putting it between her and the two frigates at their ship’s back. “I’ve seen enough. Drop that ice and lets get out of here.”
“Finally,” Barnabas muttered, dropping the crate he’d been walking back and forth with for the last ten minutes. “Let’s get out of here.”
“Quit complaining,” Frost said, tugging at the rope they’d tossed over the one side to make it look like they’d been dredging. “You had to carry a box.”
“It was boring,” Barnabas said. “Also, ice dredging work. I hate ice dredging work.”
“It’s not so bad,” Alchemy said as he waved his hoof up at the bridge and then moved towards the front of the Manticore where its ice-anchor was holding them in place. “It’s a bit earned. Besides, I’m with Frost on this one, all you did was carry a box. We’re the ones who had to fake scraping that ice up.”
Whatever Barnabas was going to say as a reply was lost as Blade stepped inside, the door swinging shut behind her as she climbed up the stairs towards the bridge.
“So?” Hain asked from his position at the wheel as she stepped onto the bridge. “What do you think?”
“The direct approach is suicide,” she said. Beneath her the Manticore’s deck began to tilt to one side as the ice-anchor disengaged, the wind twisting their vessel. ‘We’re definitely going to have to try the alternative.”
“Right,” Hain said as he yanked at one of the control levers. A dull rumble echoed through the ship as the sails began to unfold, gears and springs shifting as the side sails and topsails unfolded into place. Down on the deck, Barnabas gave them a thumbs up before turning and stepping into the cabin, Frost and Alchemy right behind him. A moment later Blade could hear the heavy tread of the minotaur’s hooves against the steps, followed by the rhythmic clop-clop of his sister and Alchemy, and Barnabas’s head moved into sight, bobbing up and down as he climbed.
“So!” he called. “What’s the word?”
“A frontal assault would be suicide,” Blade answered as the Manticore began to pick up speed, moving north and away from the shipyard—as well as the hopefully still not-curious frigates, neither of which would have trouble running them down if they wanted to. “One of those frigates is more than a match for us, and with two of them, plus whatever they’ve been doing to the shipyard itself, we’d have no chance.”
“What are they doing to the shipyard?” Alchemy asked, his ears laying back slightly.
“I couldn’t tell,” she admitted. “There’s some sort of construction going on the front side of the roof, but I’d need to get closer to see what it was.”
“In all likelihood, I’d expect they’re defenses,” Hain said, clicking the autopilot into place and then turning to face the rest of the group. “If the Bloodhooves are serious about holding the shipyard—which would be the strategically intelligent move to make—setting up a permanent defensive line would free up those two frigates to be used elsewhere.”
“But the shipyards are neutral,” Alchemy said, his face falling. “They’ve always been neutral.”
“Alchemy,” Hain said with a shake of his head. “In war, neutral just means you haven’t picked a side yet. If the opposing factions are nice, you’ll get a lot of time to make that decision, maybe even enough that the war ends before you ever decide. If they’re not, they’ll decide for you. Nobody is truly neutral. They’ve either got friends, allies, or something else keeping their enemies off of them.”
“Regardless,” Blade said, pulling the group’s focus back. “A frontal assault is out. Even with the element of surprise, we’d get wiped out before we ever got close enough to make any move. Which means,” she said, glancing towards Hain and eyeing him just long enough to see his nod of agreement. “We’re going to have to go with the other plan.”
“Which other plan?” Barnabas asked.
“The one where we come in through the town itself,” Blade said. “We beach the Manticore a mile or so down the coast outside the bay, and make our way through the forest towards the shipyard.”
“I thought that plan only worked if we had enough of an element of surprise,” Barnabas said. “Those frigates can just bottle us in.”
“No,” Frost said, shaking her head. “Not if we seize control of the defenses that Blade spotted.”
Blade grinned. So someone else in the group had thought of that. “Exactly,” she said. “If Hain is right, and those are defensive emplacements, we can commandeer one or two of them and turn them on their own frigates. If we act fast enough, we might be able to take both of them out.”
“What about the garrison?” Barnabas asked.
“A distraction,” Hain said. “One of us goes in, poses as a dockyard worker, maybe, and causes a problem. Starts a fire or something.”
“Start a fire in the shipyard?” Alchemy said, his eyes growing round. “That place is made of wood!”
“And I’m sure they’ve got plenty of fire suppressants,” Hain said. “It was just a suggestion in any case.”
“What about the docks themselves?” Barnabas offered. “We could cut some of the moorings. The shipyard has a slight slope to its plates to make it easier to get the ships out.”
“Good idea,” Blade said, nodding. “And possibly capable of causing enough chaos that we could get out even if we can’t do anything about the frigates. Speaking of which.” She turned towards Frost. “Your corvette can outrun those frigates, right?”
“With ease,” Frost said, smiling one of her cold smiles. “The Arrow is one of the fastest ships on the Ocean. If we can get clear of their range, they’re not going to catch us.”
“So then, we try both,” Blade said. “We beach the Manticore—”
“Why not leave it anchored offshore and have you and Hain ferry us?” Alchemy asked. “I mean, the Manticore isn’t the best boat, but this thing’s still worth a lot of bits.”
“Yeah, sure,” Blade said, unable to keep a grin from forming. “It’s also a pirate ship owned by a self-conceited jerk of a minotaur. Call me petty, but I think wrecking it sends a good message to both the Bloodhooves and Ennuis.”
“Expensive message,” Barnabas said. “What if we need to retreat?”
“I—” She caught herself, beak clicking shut. “Fine,” she admitted. “That might be a good reason to have it. How about we compromise. We swing in and anchor it next to the coast and then do our recon. If the situation looks good, we slag the boat and go in on foot. Good enough?”
“I still don’t like the idea of setting fire to the shipyard,” Alchemy said, shaking his head. “Look, I know you’re all the professionals at this, but hear me out. That whole place is made of wood. If you set fire to it, the whole thing could go up, and it’s not just Bloodhooves down there. Cedar Shipyards relies on a whole mess of dockhooves and carpenters, ponies whose livelihood is in that dock. I’ve met some of them—”
“Alright, alright.” Blade held up an open claw and spread her wings. “Your point is made. We’ll try not to damage the place that badly, all right? The goal is the steal Frost’s ship back anyway.”
“And to send a message,” Frost said. “To both the Cragtooths and the Bloodhooves.”
“Why not to the dockhooves as well?” Hain asked. “ Alchemy, you just said you know those ponies, right?” The orange earth pony nodded.
“Then why not let it be a message for them as well?” Hain said, his straight-backed posture adding a hint of regality to his words. “Depending on the size of the garrison, we might be able to help them kick the Bloodhooves out entirely.”
“That’s sounding a lot like a revolution we’re not getting paid for,” Blade said. “And one that could take a little too long to stick around and set up.”
“Not necessarily,” Barnabas said. “I doubt the workers are appreciative of the Bloodhooves’ violation of their neutrality. If we sow enough chaos, shout the right words at the right time, they might clean up for us.”
“Okay,” Blade said, nodding. “When you put it that way, it sounds like an acceptable bonus.” A plan was forming in her mind, and she ran her eyes across the four members of her team. “All right,” she said, looking at Hain. “I think we can do this, but first things first, I need to get a better look at those defensive emplacements.” She stepped over to the chart table and took a look down at the close-up of Cedar Bay and the surrounding shoreline.
“Hain,” she said, tapping a section of the coastline with one talon. “Can you take the Minotaur here and wait for me?”
“Sure,” Hain said, glancing down at the map. “It’ll be maybe an hour for us to get there.”
“Where are you going?” Alchemy asked as she stepped across the bridge once more, grabbing an insulated jacket from the wall and sliding it over her back, her wings slipping through the two cuts left in the material for that purpose. Next came her bags, along with the binoculars she’d used earlier, strapped in place in case she needed to do some fancy flying.
“To get a closer look at those emplacements,” she said, wrapping her scarf around her neck and feeling a faint sense of satisfaction that at least the colors were dark rather than bright and easily visible. The sky was mostly a grey, foreboding overcast, but bright colors would stand out against almost anything.
“Anyone see any of those long strips of—Thanks,” she said as two pairs of the warm cloth floated into view, wrapped in Frost’s magic. She still wasn’t overly fond of the mare’s cold attitude—She definitely takes that name of hers far too literally—but at least she was helpful. She sat back, wrapping each cloth around one of her forelegs.
Just like the old days training, she thought as she gave the last one a final tug, folding the long end back under itself to make sure it stayed put. Except this might be a lot colder than a high-altitude flight.
“All right,” she said as she stepped over towards the door, already feeling the warmth of the layers she’d added over her body. “Be waiting for me there, and if I’m not back by dark, keep the lights on. Hain?” The old griffon glanced in her direction. “Until I get back, you’re in charge.”
“Wait, I—” Whatever else he had to say was lost over the rush of the wind as she threw the back door open, leaping over the back railing and spreading her wings wide to catch the thin air. The endless groan of the Ocean echoed around her as she pushed her wings down, fighting for altitude.
I should have grabbed a pair of goggles, she thought as she pressed her eyelids together, narrowing her field of view. Then again, at least it’s not snowing. Yet. The air temperature had fluctuated wildly over the last few days, a sure sign, according to both Frost and Hain both, that there was a snowfall imminent. Hopefully they’d be long gone before it hit.
Then again, if we pull a smash and grab with this like we hope, we will be, she thought, pumping her wings. The Manticore was already fading to a toy behind her, though it would be matching her lead soon enough. She adjusted her course, keen to keep away from the mouth of the bay.
The shoreline was a little over a mile away, but it felt longer. The cool air sucked at her strength, providing little lift and forcing her to flap harder than she was used to. Slowly, inexorably, she climbed, rising above the ice and into the sky, but she could feel her heart beating against her chest, a rapid, steady drumbeat.
I hate flying in the cold, she thought as she reached a level altitude and relaxed her wingbeats. It’s like flying in a dry fog. You don’t get wet, but it wears you out. Plus, you can’t glide as far.
Still, she was close enough to the distant shore now that her eyes could distinguish the line of tundra between the rich, dark silt that made up the edge of the beach and the tall, firm forest behind it. She went into a long glide, letting her wings rest as the shoreline drew closer, beating them only when she could see she was losing too much altitude. The silt barrier passed by beneath her, and she tucked her wings in close, angling her body downward as the treeline came closer.
The frozen grass was brittle beneath her paws, cracking under the pressure of her body as she landed. Faint patches of dry snow pocketed the landscape, mixing with the off-yellow flora to create a terrain that looked a bit like the hide of a sick cow.
No point in waiting, she thought, pushing ahead into the forest, putting herself inside the pines before turning west and heading towards the shipyard. It’s already going to be a bit of a walk, and we’ve only got so much daylight. The last thing she wanted to do was try to pull the job off at night. With the shipyard as well-lit as Barnabas and Alchemy had claimed, either of the frigates could have sat back in the darkness and just picked them apart as they left.
A faint shiver ran down her spine as she held back the urge to spread her wings and fly the rest of the way to the shipyard. Her breath was already leaving misty clouds in the air behind her, and despite her fitness she could feel the cold chill her flight had left her with.
Better to save my strength for the flight back, she thought. And maybe, just maybe, if I do this fast enough, I’ll have time to warm up before we have to move. Besides, moving slower and lower would make it harder for her to be spotted by any patrols. Assuming there were any.
And if she didn’t make it back in time, she considered, brushing a small, leafless bush aside with her talons, there was the option of simply waiting. Spending the night aboard the Manticore, and then making their move the next morning, after a night of planning. The idea had appeal.
On the other claw, that’s just one more day’s worth of lost time, she thought as she slowed, her path blocked by a particularly thick clump of brittle, leafless brush. After a moment’s consideration she spread her wings and lifted into the air, flying for only a moment until she’d cleared the thick tangle. I’ve already been here for what? A week? She ran over the days in her head. Three days travel from Northgait to Ruffian’s Wharf, two days of travel from there to Ender’s Isle, and now another two days to get from there to here, plus today. So … yeah, a week.
She glanced to her side as the growling of the Ocean faded somewhat, worried that she’d angled away from it, but then the sound surged back with a deep, low groan that seemed vibrate her very bones. A large piece of ice shifting maybe.
It’s still weird how it does that, she thought, the feathers of her ruff twitching slightly and trying to rise as she locked her eyes on the distant ice. It’s a whole ocean of ice. No water. Just … ice. She shook her head, bringing her eyes back forward. Ice was supposed to be solid and stable, something that formed on water when it got cold that kits could play on. Not something that heaved and shifted in great, groaning chunks, endlessly shifting like a restless fledgling.
Alchemy had tried to give her the explanation for it—something about the ethereal crystal that everyone was harvesting mixing with the ice down where it was formed, and then reacting with ambient magic to push and pull against itself in a polarized system—but after the first ten minutes she’d just shaken her head and told him to forget about it.
It works, it’s weird, but it’s something I can deal with, she thought. Beneath her paws, the ground began to slope upwards, rising slightly as she neared the bay. Apparently the way the ice moved even had something to do with the snow in the area. Something about the ice grinding against itself to make ice dust …
This place just follows its own rules. Up ahead she could see the ground cresting, the skyline opening up as the ground gave way quickly down towards the bay. On the other claw, she thought as she dropped to her belly and wriggled over the edge of the hill, Cedar bay spread out before her. Some things stay the same.
She grinned as she made note of her position relative to the twin pirate frigates. Both of them were to her right, resting at anchor further up the bay. Neither of them were pointed in her direction.
Sloppy, she thought with a faint sense of satisfaction as she unclipped the binoculars from her bags, her talons working carefully so that the buckles wouldn’t make any loud sounds. And if they have any patrols out, they’re either the most quiet I’ve ever encountered, or … She grinned as she slipped the glasses in front of her face, her vision blurring and then refocusing. They just don’t have any.
Amateurs. Then again, she’d make sure to thank them for their oversight. Personally.
All right, she thought as her old habits took over, forcing her breathing to come as slowly as possible just in case there was a notable misting of her breath. Let’s see what we can find. She locked her attention on the frigates first, running her gaze down both of the ships and cataloguing both their visible crew and their weapon emplacements. That done, she shifted the binoculars, panning them across the bay and over towards the shipyard itself.
Now that she was at a different angle she could better see the mass of infrastructure that had been built behind the gargantuan dock, a widespread collection of homes and businesses sided by a lumber yard that covered almost half as much ground as the shipyard did.
Makes sense, she thought as she gave the yard a quick once over, focusing only for a few seconds on the large structure at one end. She held her breath for just a moment, straining her ears, and heard the faint but unmistakable sound of saws. Sawmill. They cut down the trees, bring them here, and they’ve got all the wood they need. She let her gaze continue panning back past the mill and up the mountains behind it, her eyes picking out the telltale patches of lighter and darker green that marked decades of logging.
Well, I guess that’s where the wood comes from, she thought, eyeing a fresh bald spot at the edge of a darker patch. Looks like a good steady business.
Still, it probably wasn’t too relevant to her current mission, unless … She panned her glasses across the lumbermill once more.
Not a lot of wood down there, she thought as she eyed the empty gravel lots. But the place looks pretty busy. She could see multiple sapients—minotaurs, diamond dogs, and ponies—rushing around and moving wood across the empty lot, but most of the wood was either piled by what looked like the mill’s entrance to the docks or being taken straight inside.
She lowered the binoculars for a moment, resting her talons on the cold, mossy ground. A lumberyard that big shouldn’t be going through wood that quickly, she thought. Not unless they’re building something huge. Like a fleet. Granted, there were the emplacements that were being built up on the front of the roof, but those alone wouldn’t have needed much more than a lot or two’s worth of wood. To empty the whole yard, though ...
Just what are you guys up to? she asked, lifting the glasses once more and focusing the lenses on the distant shipyard. She was high enough now that she could just barely see over the wind-blocking wall, giving her a slightly better view of what was going on—
The binoculars almost slipped from her talons as the distant scene came into focus, and she tightened her grip, her claws scraping over the metal as she adjusted the lenses, double-checking what she’d just seen.
Yep, she thought as she watched the dockhooves swarm across the skeletal shape. Unless they’re practicing some method of shipbuilding I’m not familiar with, that’s definitely what I’m looking at.
* * *
“They’re building a what?” Hain asked.
“A dreadnought,” she said, shaking her head before biting back down into her hot meal. “Or a pleasure cruiser, I guess,” she said, her words slightly muffled by the hot haunch of rabbit. She paused, swallowing and letting out a sigh of satisfaction as the hot meal slid down into her gut, warming her frozen body every step of the way. “But I can’t see any other reason why they’d build a ship that big, so … dreadnought.”
“It makes sense,” Frost said. “Pyre, the Bloodhooves’ leader, has always shown an interest in larger, more intimidating ships.”
“Which wouldn’t matter so much if so far the strategy hadn’t been proven right,” Barnabas interjected. “Pyre already has his flagship, the Ocean’s Flame. The Behemoth is even bigger.”
“Aptly named, then,” Alchemy said, pausing from the demolition of his own dinner. All four of them were clustered around the ship’s galley table, eating and listening while she gave them her report.
“It is,” Barnabas said. “Over two-hundred and fifty feet from end to end, all hardened, pressure-treated wood. Multiple armaments, including heavy ballista, catapults, and over thirty cannons. Heavily reinforced for ramming duty. Onboard supplies to tend to her attendant fleet.”
Alchemy’s eyes widened at the mention of the cannons. “Over thirty cannons?”
“Crude ones,” Barnabas amended. “They haven’t quite got the time, money, or patience to bother trying for anything better. At most we’re looking at basic, blunt weapons. Powerful, but blunt. Gunpowder’s expensive, and I don’t think many would deal with the Bloodhooves with anything more modern.”
“Anyway,” Frost said, glaring at her brother. “If what you saw is correct—” Blade bit back a comment, instead letting her tail lash slightly beneath the table, “—then Pyre has apparently decided that simply forcing the shipyard to produce another ship of that size would be preferable to paying for it. That would be a justifiable reason for seizing the shipyard, I imagine.”
“It’s a pretty obvious act of aggressive intent, though,” Hain said. “Do the Cragtooth’s just not know about this?”
Barnabas shrugged. “Hard to say, since we’re not officially part of the their group. Based on their lack of action however, I’m going to guess that at the moment, either no, or they’re not sure what to do about it. How far along is it?” he asked, turning towards her. “They’ve only held the shipyard for a few weeks.”
She shook her head, the Manticore swaying beneath her as the wind shifted. “Barely anywhere. They’ve got a skeleton laid out. You know, the framework? And I could see them working on a few decks.”
“So it’s early on,” Alchemy said. “They’ll be working on it for another few months at least.”
“Depends on how quickly they want to use it,” Hain said. “As I understand it ...” The older griffon glanced towards Alchemy and Barnabas, as if looking for their confirmation. “The lifting plates will go in first, correct?” The pair nodded.
“So it’s capable of floating on the ice already then,” Hain said.
“Good,” Blade said, pulling everyone’s eyes back in her direction. “That’s actually something I was going to ask.”
“What about other ships?” Frost asked. “Did you get any idea if they were building anything else?”
She shook her head. “No,” she said between bites. “There were other ships in there, but most of them looked pretty complete. They might have been working on a few, but that was it.”
“Were any of them Bloodhooves?” That was the question she’d been dreading arriving.
“Honestly?” she said, dropping her fork with a sharp clink. “I don’t know. If they were, they weren’t making it apparent.”
“What about obvious interior forces?” Hain asked. “A garrison.”
She nodded. That was something she could answer. “At least thirty ponies. About ten or so wandering the docks, another fifteen up on the defensive emplacements, and a small group in the town.” She paused, eyeing Frost before speaking again. “And there were unicorns with them.”
The mare’s eyes snapped up, a faint, misty sheen rising from her mane. “How many?” she growled.
“Five or six,” Blade said. “I got a little closer so I could get a better look. All of them but one had bit of red paint on the end of their horns.”
‘And the other one?”
“Red band around the base.”
“A chosen. With a tag-along pack of initiates,”Frost hissed. “The Order is involved.”
“Yeah, that’s what I figured,” she said. “How tough are they? Is it going to be a problem.”
“No,” Frost said, her voice flat. “Initiates are stronger opponents than most, but only by virtue of their magic. Chosen are even more dangerous, but with a limited number of spells. If the initiates manage to reinforce the chosen it could be a difficult kill, but …” She blinked. “Were they moving as a pack? Or were they spread out across the shipyard?”
“There were two of them helping with the weapons emplacements,” she said, thinking back. “But the rest were in the town with the chosen pony.”
“What about the weapon emplacements?” Hain asked.
“Heavy ballistas. There are two of them working, though it looks like the goal is to have four. Which means if we hit the docks tomorrow, there’ll be two of them ready and waiting for us to use.”
“It sounds like you’ve got a plan then,” Hain said.
She nodded, spearing a single bit of almost cool rabbit on a talon and lifting it into the air. “You bet. It’s going to take a little work,” she said, leaning forward and giving the rest of the table her best grin. “But I think you’re all really going to like it.”
“So eat up,” she said as another gust of wind shifted the Manticore to one side, the distant screech of the ice-anchor floating through the galley. “Because come tomorrow, we’re stealing ourselves a ship.”
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All this buildup. Buckle down, ladies and gents, we're going for a ride. All that potential property damage. Everything is bound to go wrong, but it'll be fun reading.
*looks at laws broken* Conspiracy to commit a crime doesn't count?
The only way this area could get anymore damage incoming if Godzilla and his posse decided to show up.
Oh my gosh, they're going to hijack a dreadnaught. Nobody's ever accused Blade of aiming low, have they?
I wonder if he is compensating for something?
6126897
And even then Godzilla and co. would have to work at it.
6126938
It's been said to aim high.
6127264 strangevehicles.greyfalcon.us/Pictures/mau16.jpg
6126494 Typically, no. There's "Conspiracy to commut murder" which is the technical legal term for hiring an assassin, but in general, short of tyrannical cesspits, you can't get in troubke for something you haven't done yet.
Depends on the jurisdiction. Here in the USA, you need an overt act. Plus, you need more evidence than just the word of a coconspirator.
Right now, they could use Calamity with his battle saddle to straff the place like an A-10. With Littlepip on his back, throwing balefire eggs all over, yelling gleefully, "Balefire bombs for every Bloodhoof! YAY!"
6126897
Just because you mentioned him...
I think the term you are looking for is Ship of the Line (if it's sail) not dreadnought or just plain old battleship (which dreadnoughts are).
9420401
Not quite. The technical meaning behind a dreadnought is a "super ship" with vastly increased armor and firepower past what would be economically feasible. Spending an extra 50% to get that extra 15% edge. While initially the idea was that battleships were dreadnoughts, that was only because of the first "super battleship" being called a dreadnought and the arms-race that followed. A battleship quickly became a battleship, while a dreadnought is basically a statement of economic superiority. Calling a ship a dreadnought confers that its basically almost ludicrous in its weight and firepower, but the funds on it could have been spent on almost two regular ships of a similar class.
This also means dreadnought is an evolving term (though there was a period of "super dreadnoughts pre-WWII). Basically, a dreadnought can become the new "norm" as new ships come out matching it in firepower and armor, however, they will likely be their own class and cheaper due to refinement. A new "dreadnought" would then be that new design, overdone again.
EDIT: Example- You build 10 of ship A, and then a dreadnought, ship A2, which costs more but boasts more armor and firepower. However, this gives your engineers ideas, and they make a new design, B, that is as good or better than the A2 dreadnought. You then build a new Dreadnought, B2, to keep that statement of "Look how much money I have."
One Further Edit: The cost is also why dreadnoughts fell out of favor. In order to be top dog, navies were pouring way too much money into them, and it wasn't feasible when two normal battleships were a lot more useful. But they were still useful for bragging rights (see the Bismark, for example).
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Actually the last of the dreadnoughts built were the USN Standard-Type Battleships (which were considered super dreadnoughts) anything after Super Dreadnoughts were considered Post-Dreadnought Battleships so no the term dreadnought is NOT an evolving term, then again we might make an argument out of this so let's not discuss this further. (sorry if this is done twice).