All Quiet On The Skyward Front

by Cartz1

Chapter 1: An inconvenience

“Attention, airship ‘The Crusader’. This is captain Starlight, please switch off engines and remain neutral…”

The little balloon mounted air ship coasted along the skyline, just sitting above the clouds peacefully putting along at day break. The purples and reds of the sky coated the airship’s metallic rudder and sails, the light reflecting off the banisters of the catwalks exposed the rusting coating and the age of the little airship.

“…Prepare to be boarded for a full ship inspection, approval and clearance…”

The airship itself consisted of two balloons or ‘gasbags’. These balloons were cylindrical in shape, sitting horizontally one on top of the other, each balloon spanning ten metres long and three metres wide sewn together by thick industrial strength rope. On top the balloons sat the bridge, small but concise, fitted with a navigation table, bullet proof windows, a sink, control panels for the ships movement and most importantly, a hammock. Above the bridge there was a recently installed crow’s nest, accentuated with two turrets and a hidden hatch door leading back into the interior of the bridge. The ship wasn’t exactly ideal for fire fights but in the ever changing tide of the Empire’s strength everypony should always keep protection. Plus, at least it made for a nice view.

“…Any signs of fleeting or resistance will be seen as rebellious attitude and will result in use of lethal force as ordered by Imperial Commander Blue Blood…”

Below the ship sat the much larger second compartment complete with a mess hall, cargo bay, sleeping quarters, toilets, kitchen and armoury; fortunately for the crew the armoury had never needed to be used and was locked shut by a rusted lock inches thick. Both compartments were connected to each other by a rusty metal catwalk slung around sides of the airship. The second compartment was the more ‘homey’ part of the ship; it brought back memories of the old club house back at Ponyvile. Even though it was never as clean as the club house or wasn’t even made out of the same material, there still was the same vibe all three friends had managed to keep over all the years encased inside the large compartment.

Beneath the compartment there was the engine room. A self-generating magic combustor was placed in the middle; an essential component to any airship these days. Next to the combustor were three turbines, two on the sides and the largest one just above the generator. The sight of the place was nowhere nearly as bad as the smell. Self-generating engines were a huge step forward for air flight technologies, but a gigantic leap back for odorant stench. The smell was catastrophically horrific, over the years of the newly introduced self-generating technology many engineers of airships had died from suffocation of the smell. Working down in the engine room could only be done when the ship was docked and where fresh clothes and a working shower were available; otherwise any attempt up in the sky may as well have been a suicide mission. In fact the airship would have been more aerodynamically stable and efficient if the turbines were higher nearer the bridge, but the foul smell was too much of a risk for not only comfort but health and safety.

“…I repeat, switch engines off and prepare for boarding immediately; any sign of fleeing will be seen as an act of rebellion against the Empire and will be dealt with as such. You have five minutes to respond, Captain Starlight, over.”

However, even in the early morning as the majestic sun started to peek over the horizon, something stirred on the bridge, in the hammock in fact. The patched brown teenage colt wiggled to his side in discomfort, his unconsciousness being broken by the crackle of the radio. Pealing open his eyelids to slits, he stared long and hard at the radio through his unfocussed vision.

‘Captain Starlight,’ he thought. The name reverberating around his head, thinking he had heard the name somewhere else.

‘Isn’t he that guy who owns the Mammoth? Eh, probably’, he resolved, contently rolling over and ignoring the radio, returning to his peaceful slumber.

A pang of realisation shot up his spine. “Wait, a Mammoth!?” He shot upright in his hammock, exclaiming to no one in particular.

The thought of an actual Mammoth airship began to creep into his mind, the intimidating grey hull, the massively expansive shape, the daunting enormity of the canons ringing around the outsides of the ship. The young colt felt faint for someone who had just woke up.

“A Mammoth,” he recited to himself slowly, taking in the full blow of the situation. A ‘Mammoth’, a creation by the imperialists meant to blot out the sky, although the ship itself was the epitome of impracticalness with adjustment of the canons trajectory that could only be adjusted by literally running up to them from within the aircraft and its slow turning speeds, the airship wasn’t designed for combat it was designed to scare and with almost a hundred plus crew, it did its job very well. However the Mammoth was only half the problem, Sweetie Bell’s buck to the face might be a bit of a difficulty when he’ll have to explain the situation to her and the rest of the crew. The last thing he wanted was for Apple Bloom to be mad at him, not like he wasn’t enough of an embarrassment in front of her already.

He eyed the radio, its inanimateness taunting him every second that passed. Not to mention he was supposed to be on duty for navigation.

‘On the usual course we never encounter this type of trouble unless they changed patrolling areas’, he thought, scrunching up his snout.

‘Or maybe there was a disturbance in the area? On a morning like this? Hell no.’ He put a hoof to his chin.

He glanced back at the hammock, eying the old dribble on the pillow ‘Wait, I didn’t fall aslee…’

Sinking back down into the hammock, he face hoofed painfully hard.

He glanced back at the radio in rag; it sat there innocently like no message of almost certain death had just been conveyed.
Pipsqueak felt like spitting at the tormenting object.

“Buck,” he groaned.

Today was going to be a magnificent day aboard ‘The Crusader’.

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All quiet on the Skyward front
(Cartz1)

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“Ok so let me get this straight,” Sweetie bell groaned, rubbing her forehead with a hoof.

“In exactly ten minutes an airship ten times the size of use is going to board our ship, rummage through our cargo while we stand sheepishly in the corner staring at our hooves, and then they shoot us where we stand for trafficking highly illegal zap apple fuel?” Sweetie bell said coolly, almost too coolly for Pipsqueak to be able to determine her sarcasm from deadly serious.

He’d been aboard the ‘Crusader’ a few months now but he still had difficulty finding the exact emotions Sweetie Bell was trying to display at times; perhaps that’s what made her such a good captain, either that or her loss of sanity somewhere along the way Pipsqueak figured.

“S-Six minutes actually…” He sheepishly replied, nervously eying the floor, rubbing his hooves together.

“Great,” she bluntly responded as she clapped her hooves together and slid off the navigation table. She trotted over to a nearby window on the bridge, scanning the sky for any signs of the supposed Mammoth. Besides the sky being crystal clear and free of ships it was only when her sight dropped downwards that she could see the vast grey shadow of an unmistakably enormous blimp floating right below them.

“Ah,” She grimaced, the shadow appeared as if it could swallow their entire ship in one swift movement upwards.

“Too bad they won’t make it to us,” Said a familiar voice behind Sweetie Bell.

Scootaloo lounged coolly in the only arm chair available on the ship; the pealing leather exposed its cushion filling but was the comfiest piece of furniture aboard the entire ‘Crusader’. Although the small luxury didn’t compensate as a cool down for Scootaloo, the only noticeable change in her body language was the flair in her eyes slowly growing.

“Those blimps are nothing but a big scare,” Scootaloo said leaning back into the chair, her leather jacket two sizes too small rode up the length of her foreleg as she sank back into the cushioning.

“I say we take’em by surprise, they won’t see a cannon ball coming till it’s through their Captains quarters,” She exclaimed sharply, stabbing the arm rest of the chair with a hoof.

“Scootaloo, don’t talk silly,” Apple Bloom retorted, leaning against the metal hull, her hand-me-down overalls still covered in grease from last night’s repair job, “You know what tah chances are of us goin’ up against ah ship like that.”
Apple Bloom brought a hoof to her mane, scratching the parasites beneath the layers of muck streaked through her hair.

Apple Bloom’s self-assigned job was the least pleasant out of any of the ponies aboard the ship, she had engineering duties. While Sweetie Bell was captain and Scootaloo navigation and amour advisor, Apple Bloom’s job was by far the most important in the entire ship, which was essentially keeping the aircraft alive. The ship itself was much past its time and was in dire need of repair when the crusaders had first set their eyes upon it, Scootaloo even considered the possibility that travelling in a cardboard box would be a lot more efficient than using the aged airship. However Apple Bloom didn’t see the ship as a fault, but an opportunity. Within only a couple of restless nights and three whole packets of torch batteries later she had been able to restore the ship to its prior glory, rebuilding the entire airship top to bottom.

Her responsibilities now weren’t as great as they used to be; she had already figured out all the kinks and twerks in the ship and was left to only maintain the engine that kept the crew afloat. The regular trips down the engine room weren’t as reoccurring as they used to be back when the ship was just starting up and had gifted Apple Bloom with a very high tolerance to smell, as well as an iron stomach. This spare time gave her plenty of space in her evenings, to research and study the Imperial fleet ship by ship, fascinated by all the ships she one day hoped she would own herself.

“Oh C’mon Apple Bloom stop being such a buzz kill,” Scootaloo sulked, rolling her eyes.

“I’m tryin’ not tah get us killed Scootaloo, I mean it when we say we don’t stand a chance against ah Mammoth,” Apple Bloom said definitely, glaring at Scootaloo who just grumbled in response.

“Well, we can’t just sit here forever,” Sweetie Bell sighed, peeling her eyes away from the window trying to forget about the gigantically ominous black shadow that hung just below the ship.

“Exactly!” The orange pegasus chirped springing up from her seat, leaping into a fighting stance and began taking swings an invisible punching bag. “We’ll jump through a hatch door in one of the crow’s nets and take down the entire ship inside out!”

“Hmm,” Sweetie Bell pondered, stroking her chin, “That’s not a bad i…”

“Now hold ya horses here, Scootaloo,” Apple Bloom intervened, pushing herself off the wall and started a slow trot over to the orange pegasus.

“Maybe assaulting a hundred maned ship isn’t possible tah best way around this situation here,” She reasoned with Scootaloo. “Or your best idea,” She added, receiving an annoyed glance from Scootaloo.

“Maybe we ought to just out run’em, I know we have the power too.”

“Well now that you mention it…” Sweetie Bell murmured thoughtfully to herself.

“May-be, we ought to listen to my ideas since we never use them,” Scootaloo countered edging closer to Apple Bloom.

“How ah-bout you just keep them ideas to yourself, may-be that’s the reason why we’re still alive,” Apple Bloom growled spitefully, edging closer to Scootaloo.

“Well…” Sweetie Bell muttered staring aimlessly at the ceiling, still engaged in deep thought.

“Or perhaps it’s the reason we’ve never won anything!?” Scootaloo exclaimed, on the verge of shouting, pushing herself right into Apple Bloom’s face.

“OR maybe it’s that YOU’VE never won anything!” Apple Bloom retaliated, levelling at the same volume.

“GUYS!”

All heads turned to face the back of the cabin, a young frustrated brown patched colt began to loosen his posture nervously at the site of their startled faces.

“We… We only have three minutes left,” Pipsqueak said softly in a lower tone, “We should probably make a decision.”

“Right you are Pipsqueak,” Sweetie Bell agreed, trotting over and giving him a friend bump on the shoulder, “We need a plan…”

Scootaloo opened her mouth to say something but was instantly cut off by Sweetie Bell.

“How fast can this ship go?” She said pointing a hoof at Apple Bloom.

“Ah,” Apple Bloom stuttered, caught totally off guard by Sweetie Bell, “Fifty Knots, with all three engines of course.”

“And how fast can they go?”

Apple Bloom sucked in some dry air, “Hmm, forty two knots.”

“Good enough,” Sweetie Bell muttered to herself.

She pointed her hoof at Scootaloo, “And how many guns do we have?”

“Last time I checked…” Scootaloo pondered, thinking about the first and last time they’d ever needed to use the armoury, when she originally stocked it.

“Three canons, four machine guns and one pistol. Two machine guns if you include the turrets.”

“And how about them?”

“Twelve canons, eight turrets, one hundred machine guns and… who knows how many pistols.”

“Fair Fair…” Sweetie Bell muttered again, turning away from the group to concentrate.

“What tah you suggestin’?”

Sweetie Bell turned slowly, her confident trademark smile strewn across her face.

“Something big,” she grinned, noticing the excited flair in Scootaloo’s eyes grow more wild and the shift in Apple Bloom’s posture become more uncomfortable.

She spun around to the last member of the cabin, pointing her hoof directly in his face. “Do we have enough zap apple fuel left in cargo to spare?”

Pipsqueak grimaced as the hoof stopped uncomfortable close in proximity of his face.

“I think so-“

“Great!” She beamed, trotting back towards the window, starring at the dangerous shadow still lurking under the clouds.

Pipsqueak looked nervously side to side at the other ponies, waiting to see which one of them was going to speak up, although he already knew he was going to be the first to ask.

“So what are we-”

“What we are going to do Pip,” Their captain responded, still staring at the shadow, “Is blow that airship into smithereens.”

Scootaloo punched into the air, taking flight for a second as she flapped her wings with glee, “Aww, yeah!”

Simultaneously the reaction caused Apple Bloom to slouch and groan, rolling her eyes at the thought of pretending they were even going to make it out alive. A sight Pipsqueak did not enjoy.

“Shurely there must be another way?” The earth pony pleaded, looking up at Sweetie Bell with desperate eyes.

“If there was another way we would have already been gone by now.”

Apple Bloom sighed and shook her head, “We can out run them can’t we? Six nots does make a difference.”

“If we tried that our ship would be ripped to shreds by their canons, and our cargo is far too important to lose,” Sweetie Bell reasoned. “We wouldn’t make a hundred metres.”

“Plus, it would make for some fine ass kickin’!” Scootaloo beamed, hoof bumping Apple Blooms shoulder, causing Apple Bloom’s eye to twitch.

“And think of the recognition we would get from the rebellion for blowing up a Mammoth!” Scootaloo flapped up in the air and grasped her hoofs together tightly, staring into space as her dreams indulged her.

She gasped in her mesmerised state, clutching her hoofs harder, “What if they make us captains? Do you know what this could mean for us? All of us!”

“I’d certainly know what it’d mean for ‘you’,” Apple Bloom grumbled. “Well Sweetie, if yah sure bout this…”

“Don’t worry,” Sweetie Bell winked back. “I am,” granting a little reassuring smile from the corner of Apple Bloom’s lips.

If there was one pony Apple Bloom could still trust it was Sweetie Bell, perhaps it was the fact she was the captain, or probably Sweetie Bell’s wise decision making, even when the decisions didn’t seem to add up the first time. The little faith she still had left in their ever growing chaotic world was stored in Sweetie Bell, after all they were still friends.

“Ok, so this is the plan,” Sweetie Bell announced, trotting over to the navigation table, throwing her forelegs over onto the table. Everypony gathered around, huddled closely together on the navigation board like a football team discussing strategies that they didn’t want the opposing team to hear.

“So Pip, you pilot the ship, try to get us as close as possible to one of the least occupied crow’s nests.”

“Sure,” Pipsqueak nodded nervously, thinking about all the tragic possibilities that could unfold under his navigation.

“Don’t worry Pip, Apple Bloom will be back to help you as soon as possible.”

Apple Bloom grimaced, “And where exactly am I goin’?”

Sweetie Bell directed her attention to both ponies standing beside her. “You two are coming with me, we’ve gotta pay a visit to the armoury.”

“And what about you?” Scootaloo asked.

“After the Armoury I’m gonna pick up some supplies in cargo bay, we’ll need them.” Both ponies standing beside her nodded.

“We ready?” Sweetie Bell asked her crew, one last stroke of confidence before the mission.

“Yep,” Scootaloo nodded.

“Sure,” Pipsqueak said wirily .

Sweetie Bell looked down at the unsure country pony beside her. “Ready?” She said, making eye contact with Apple Bloom while she laid a reassuring hoof on her shoulder.

Apple Bloom looked up at her and nodded slowly. “Yeah,” She said returning the smile, “Let’s kick some Imperial ass!”

Comments

[TheTruthTeller]

An interesting concept. Now I must ask on what level of steampunk is this is it full blown steampunk or is it just using technologies that are cannon. (not including the weapons)

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And by the way First.

[Speedway King]

Confoundment and damnation, I had an idea almost exactly like this. I even called the Airship "The Crusader".

Oh well, carry on, this is getting good.