Rally and Recover: 7 - Change of Command
Dear readers:
Whilst Fell Flight and Colonel Osprey convene a meeting of the Society of Omega Survivors to discuss the news they received and what to do about it, they will be unavailable to write for the foreseeable future.
I am not privy to their discussions, nor should I be—I spent no time at Outpost Omega and cannot know its soldier sisterhood; cannot know what that border base meant to them and still does. All I can do now is to continue with my classes and occasionally visit father.
The latter is slowly improving in health, perchance helped in part by Wind Whistler’s presence, who has rarely left his side. As it has now been well over two weeks since his surgery, they have finally been able to stop suppressing his body’s natural magic and healing ability.
Thus, at long last he is starting to regain some strength; able to leave his bed and walk short distances. Flight can only come later—much later—for him, as the wing must now be slowly strengthened over time. After five decades of not using it, he must now learn how to do so all over again.
But he has followed this continuing story with great interest, including the parley scenes and news of Omega’s fate. The former he missed entirely as he was on the bridge the whole time, and thus declined to pen any part of the last chapter as he felt ‘twas best left to those present, and for Shady to get her due.
The latter, predictably, has said that we made her out to be too much of a hero—that no Captain of the Royal Navy, even back then, would have acceded to such outrageous demands as the thestrals issued.
Perchance that is true, but at a time when matters were tense and to show any weakness could have been disastrous, you stood stalwart, Commodore. By your cool nerve under extreme pressure, we were able to keep our airship and accomplish our mission without bloodshed—though ‘twas certain we would be threatened again before we left thestral lands. Both by the bat-ponies, and by our own.
In any event, since methinks he has more energy and is now all too eager, ‘tis time for Father to pick up the pen again.
—Captain Firefly
Bolt Knight Captain Emeritus
Military History and Tactics Instructor
Equestrian Officer Academy
Canterlot
Thank you, my daughter. ‘Tis Admiral Tailwind writing, and perchance I can finally pen a new entry without having to stop and rest every few minutes. ‘Tis been an ordeal to say the least, and methinks I am thoroughly tired of hospital beds and food; thoroughly tired of not being able to walk the decks of my beloved airships and continue to command the fleet.
I do at least wish readers to know that, for the first time since I was a Naval Ensign at age 23, I was able to move my rebuilt wing, which had been paralyzed and useless since a piece of deck rigging snapped and struck it. ‘Tis an injury a pegasus never ultimately gets used to, losing their ability to fly, but for the first time, it twitched and I must now undergo a series of interminable treatments to gradually restore its functions.
I do wish Silent Night was here at my side to share this long journey, but I like to think she watches over me and our daughters from the Summerlands, even now.
—Admiral Tailwind
Commander, Royal Navy
Royal Navy Base Polaris
Canterlot
‘Twas to my great relief that the Captain returned from the parley victorious, having stood off a potential thestral attack from what I could only describe as sheer force of will.
We were privy to the conversations between her and the Nightborne Commander on the bridge, listening closely for her orders, both covert and overt. When the Captain gave the “Dusk Dazzle!” call, I obeyed her coded instructions to ignite the ship’s ballonet defenses and gradually increase their power, making clear to the initially belligerent bat-ponies that we would match them threat for threat and escalation for escalation. That if they wanted a fight, they would have one.
Methinks ‘tis fortunate for both sides they did not, as I had no wish to engage them. Not only because our success was unlikely at best against such numbers and unknown tactics as they had, but because they were very much part of Naval lore.
The Royal Navy, it cannot be emphasized enough, was once Princess Luna’s service just as the Royal Guard is Princess Celestia’s. For the Navy to go to war with those who had once crewed it seemed… inharmonious is the only word that immediately comes to mind, and I found myself praying that we would not be forced to defend the ship against them.
Thanks to the Captain, we were not, and at her orders, we withdrew from thestral lands. But the danger was far from over.
EAS Loyalty
Just north of Lake Luna on Thestralslovakian border
September 4th, 1139 AC
0002 hours
“Captain on the Bridge!” the customary call from the ship’s mainly unicorn security detail went up as Captain Shady reentered the bridge, followed by—
Everyone stopped to stare at the dark-furred, bat-winged newcomer wearing an exotic uniform and rank insignia I roughly recognized as a Nightborne Colonel. ‘Twould seem that the tales of their extreme sensitivity to light were true, as although the lights on the bridge were low, she grimaced at the bright glow of various crystal controls and displays, her slitted eyes watering.
Shady noticed quickly. “My apologies, Colonel. If all stations would be so kind as to dim their instrument displays—”
“‘Tis no need.” The thestral mare spoke in a thick but understandable accent, pulling out a set of what looked like flight goggles from a uniform pouch and donning them, sighing with relief as she pulled them on. From our point of view, they looked completely opaque, giving no sense of her eyes beneath. That in turn left me wondering why they hadn’t been wearing them when they’d first menaced our ship, given we could have dazzled them with flare shells and flash spells, leaving them easy prey for our archers and pegasi. “I would advise that all shipboard lights be turned off for your approach, however, else this vessel will be like a lighthouse in the fog to Nightborne eyes.”
“Our approach? Then we are going to Cloudsdale, Captain?” I asked Shady hopefully.
“We are,” she confirmed tersely as she reached her command chair, “and without permission, just as soon as we lay some mists.” She clicked a gem button on the armrest, causing a very specific tone to sound. “All available on-duty Air Wing and Corps pegasi report at once to the topmost observation deck for weather work. You will follow the instructions of Corps Storm Sergeant Blue Bolt and Master Sergeant Firefly. Shady out.”
“Impressive,” the Colonel pronounced as she looked around the bridge, her hidden eyes seeming to settle briefly on the darker coat and tufted ears of Lieutenant Azimuth, who was staring at her in something approaching awe. “Your airship ‘tis far more advanced than what we recalled of our long-ago service in Luna’s Navy.”
“Thank you, Colonel. I would offer you a drink and a tour, but time is pressing,” Shady replied. “Everypony, this is Colonel Aegir Ale of the Nightborne Army. She has very honorably—and against explicit orders—agreed to escort us to Cloudsdale.”
“I thank you for your kindness, Captain, though I fear I will not have my rank much longer.” She slumped slightly before turning to Lieutenant Azimuth. “As ‘twould seem you are the navigator, I will give you the city’s coordinates and a path to proceed on. With your permission, that is, Captain…?” she caught herself.
“Granted,” Shady invited, and Aegir Ale immediately trotted over, ignoring the eyes on her.
I couldn’t help note that Aries Azimuth treated her almost reverently as she helped him plot the course.
* * * * *
Twenty minutes later a thick fog had set in courtesy of pegasi efforts. Thanks in large measure to the meteorological mind of Corps Storm Sergeant Blue Bolt, they’d enclosed us in clouds by generating simple but gentle updrafts from below.
“We’re hidden, ma’am,” I said perchance needlessly as nothing was visible out any viewports; even the blood-red moon was shrouded, leaving me wondering briefly how long the Princess would keep it at such an ominous hue.
“Then ‘tis time we make our way to Cloudsdale. All decks, rig for silent running! All lights are to be extinguished, and anything that makes noise is to be turned off or secured. Flash Fix, you are to keep our propellers as quiet as possible,” she reminded him, speaking softly into her communication crystal as if afraid the volume of her voice would carry the ten miles distance to the border.
“Aye, ma’am! If ‘twould help, perchance we could slap a soundproofing spell over me bairns as well—“
“Do not do so!” the Nightborne Colonel stated urgently, gaining our immediate attention. “We can detect unicorn spellcasting, even at a distance. If my brethren sense a sudden flurry of spells getting steadily closer, they will go on immediate alert. For us to not be detected as we cross the border, you must use as little magic as possible—even levitation spells and communication crystal use must be eliminated once we begin our approach!”
“I see…” Shady frowned and exchanged a glance with me. “That is troubling. For methinks ‘twould also mean that they would sense a sudden absence of such spells as well.”
Aegir Ale fell silent; the movement of her facial muscles giving the impression she blinked hard beneath her light-filtered goggles. “I… did not consider that. But I fear you are correct, Captain. For all spellcasting to suddenly cease would also be deeply suspicious to an alert unit—which my regiment is. In this matter, I fear I drilled my forces too well.” She went downcast.
“Not at all, Colonel. So we somehow need to approach without any magical emissions whilst still making it seem like we remain here. Any suggestions, Mister Tailwind?” Shady turned to me.
Thankfully, I had one, having come up with it as I listened to them talk. “Load up a lifeboat or two with unicorns and give them some ship communication crystals. Tell them to act as if they’re doing regular duties and continually use a few levitation or communication spells.”
“An excellent idea. But would it work?” Shady turned back to the Nightborne Colonel, who thought about it only to shake her head in defeat.
“I fear not. We are also alert to any changes in magical patterns; both type and frequency, and we have had plenty of time to establish yours. ‘Tis doubtful to me that a few unicorns on a lifeboat could exactly duplicate normal shipboard operations. And if my forces sense your patterns suddenly change…”
“Then they’ll still be alerted,” Shady grimaced, and this time I had no suggestions, uncertain how we would thread this particular needle.
“I believe I have an answer, ma’am,” Firefly’s voice suddenly sounded over the air wing crystals; she’d been listening into our conversation as was her due for being commander of the Corps contingent. “Summon First Sergeant Still Way to the bridge and explain to him our situation. I believe his rather potent and unique magical arts may be the solution to this quandary…”
Indeed he was, and ‘twas to his great credit, Admiral. I am no stranger to unusual magics, but even I had never heard of what he came up with to assist us. ‘Tis worth noting that ‘twas his Still Way Technique that eventually enabled me to fully understand and master my bad luck power, and ‘twas this first display of his abilities—along with the many to follow—that eventually led me to seeking him and his teachings out.
This is Commodore Shady speaking again. ‘Twould seem the Admiral has gone into one of his half-day therapy and exercise sessions, for which I envy neither him nor the healers and pegasus trainers who bear the thankless task of rehabilitating his wing. Though normally easygoing, the Admiral has very little patience with lack of progress, including his own, even though he must accept that only a very slow progression can restore his long-absent flying abilities after fifty years without.
I have returned to Stalliongrad with the Loyalty now, but he is sending me regular updates on his progress, including his writings, asking me to continue the story from here. Though he is perfectly capable of doing so himself, perchance he wishes to make sure that the spotlight does not stray too long from me.
I would tell him not to concern himself with such things—‘tis certain I am not interested in glory, only duty, as well he knows—but as I think about it, mayhap he sees these works as helping to glorify the Royal Navy itself, rather than either of us. Methinks I will have to ask him about that later.
—Commodore Shady
Commander, Battle Group Capricorn
Royal Navy Base Capricorn
Stalliongrad
EAS Loyalty
Just north of Lake Luna on Thestralslovakian border
September 4th, 1139 AC
0027 hours
Still Way answered the Bosun’s call promptly.
Though he’d stationed himself to guard the ship’s steerage and propulsion, his presence alone along the unicorn guards he’d been training being a very potent defense, he arrived on the bridge within seconds, teleporting to the forward observation deck and then presenting himself to the sentries for entry—the ship’s anti-teleport intrusion enchantments prevented him from teleporting into, but not out of, restricted areas.
He listened patiently as we explained what we needed, greeting Aegir Ale with not even a hint of surprise.
“I see…” He closed his eyes and smiled; his manner almost disconcertingly serene. “Yes, I can be the decoy you seek. Give me but a single lifeboat, and I will remain behind to impersonate the ship.”
Aegir Ale’s ears flicked notably as she tilted her head slightly, giving him a dubious look. “Forgive me for asking, but… how?” she wanted to know as the rest of us exchanged quizzical glances—we’d certainly had a taste of the First Sergeant’s magical talents, as he had quickly imparted some very valuable new defensive spells to our unicorn security teams, but this seemed several levels above simple shield and shroud spells. “You are just one unicorn. Methinks you cannot duplicate all the magical emissions of this ship!”
“Be assured, Colonel, that I can,” he promised with a coy grin. “If you will excuse me, I will require but a minute to prepare…” He closed his eyes in concentration, and his horn glowed with an unknown spell that I found to be surprisingly weak; one I probably couldn’t even have detected outside the bridge.
The promised sixty seconds passed before he opened his eyes again. “There. I have recorded a minute’s worth of the ship’s normal magical energy emissions; all the unicorn spells as well as communications and other incantations. To mimic the ship, I can simply stay behind in its original location, and then broadcast it back on an endless loop.”
‘Tis certain I didn’t know what to say to that. “I do not doubt your abilities, First Sergeant, but even I can tell your aura is still weak after your exertion in the Epsilon battles. Do you have enough magic remaining?”
“I do not,” he admitted, leaving us confused as to why he was still smiling and seemed so confident. “My internal reserves remain low. But I can simply draw energy from the lifeboat’s engine crystal to power my spell. Methinks it will last long enough to get you to Cloudsdale.”
“But then you wouldst be stranded there. And easy prey should the thestrals realize the ruse,” Tailwind warned him, to which he only shrugged.
“They would have to enter Equestrian territory to reach me. And methinks they would not be so brazen.”
“And if they are?” I had to ask.
“Then I will allow myself to be captured, and look forward to being freed later.” He offered easily. “Be assured that should they attempt to harm me, they will learn that even in my weakened state, I am not so easily overcome.”
“So be it,” I said, then sent him to the nearest lifeboat and let him launch it. Once he had taken position in the fog clear of the ship, I ordered all shipboard magic use by unicorns to stop and the communication crystals shut down. This meant resorting to primitive soundphones to communicate to the lower decks, which were little more than two cans attached by acoustically conductive strings that made their source sound like they were calling through a long tunnel.
The ceasing of our shipboard spellcasting was Still Way’s signal to begin broadcasting; I had no way to detect him given my meager magical awareness but other unicorns on the bridge confirmed he was. “Then let us be off. Mister Sora, come about to heading one-three-zero and engage engines. All ahead one-third,” I ordered.
“One-three-zero and engage engines. All ahead one-third, aye,” he echoed, his voice quiet.
“Very well. Colonel?” I stepped aside. “’Tis now up to you to guide us in.”
“Thank you, Captain. Bridge crew, I assume the watch.” Aegir Ale repeated the line I’d told her to say. She removed her goggles as the bridge was now dark, lit only by a single firegem on minimal brightness over the navigation table and the glow of her cat-eyes, which was unquestionably eerie and disconcerting. Before we killed the lights, she donned some sort of odd contraption strapped around the back of her head, covering the base of her ears.
She then closed her eyes for a bit—which I could only tell when the glow of them disappeared—and I wasn’t sure what she was doing until abruptly, she opened them again three minutes later.
“There is increased activity on our communications channels. I fear my deadline for return has passed.”
“Which means what?” Tailwind asked.
“Which means they suspect something is wrong but believe the ship is still present where it was. They are now deploying to screen the border and calling back for further orders.”
“Can we avoid them?” I followed up.
“I selected this heading to take us wide of my regiment’s patrol sector. However, other flanking regiments will soon be called in. Though perchance the fact that they think the ship is still in its previous location will delay that. Now I must ask that you all remain silent so I can listen in on our communications,” she requested, leaving me wondering how she could—whatever communication method the thestrals were using, I detected no magical energy involved.
‘Twas a question for later, however. Nothing more was said by her for several minutes more, until abruptly—“Helm! Stop the engines and cease approach!” she whispered urgently.
“What? Why?”
“Just do it!” she hissed out sharply in the thestral manner, and hearing the warning note in her voice, Sora obeyed, pulling the lever back and stilling the propellers, which slowly spun to a stop.
“Colonel…?” I prompted.
“A patrol from a neighboring regiment is close,” she said tersely. “They’re not looking for us, but methinks they might stumble on us if we’re not careful. The sound of the engines might give us away…” she said, and ‘tis certain everypony’s heart rate increased at her words of warning; I could suddenly hear my own pulse pounding hard in my head, perchance worse than if I was giving orders. But for now, I was but a passenger on my own airship, and I was not privy to whatever communications Aegir Ale was eavesdropping on.
A minute later, she gave the all-clear. “Helmspony—resume course. Come right—er, starboard—to one-four-zero and descend seven hundred feet in altitude. Increase speed to… one-half?” I could just see her shadow turning to me for confirmation, and I gave it with a nod. I couldn’t see anything in front of me, but she apparently could. “One-half,” she said again with more confidence.
“Come to one-four-zero and increase to one-half speed,” Sora echoed with a note of tension; we swore the increased thrum of the engines was far louder than we were used to at that moment, making it seem to us like they could not but be heard by the thestral patrols. “Making my altitude seven-eight-zero-zero,” he further recited, hitting another control to deflate the ballonets slightly to drop the ship to the requested elevation, and I mentally checked his math to find it correct. We had been at 8500 feet—a standard cruising altitude—and subtracting seven hundred feet from that gave the 7800 feet he indicated.
“I’m going to try to slip us between border patrols,” Aegir Ale added as an aside to me. “Standard Nightborne Army platoon patrol procedures are to leave five miles between the four squads, which each come in at different altitudes, with the lowest in front and highest in back. I’m trying to get us below the next one before they reach our area. At our standard patrol speed, that leaves us just four minutes to shoot the gap,” she shortly explained, “and less time than that when we will not be heard.”
“Why not just wait until they’re all passed?” Tailwind asked.
“Because ‘twould take at least twenty minutes, and each minute we delay increases the chances our ploy is discovered! Thus, we dare not delay.”
“Your logic is sound. Proceed,” I invited again, hating the feeling of not being in control of my own ship.
But nor did I have the ability or intelligence to navigate us there myself—only the Colonel did. We were trusting her perchance too much, but in my view, she was trustworthy—for if not, ‘twas an incredibly elaborate and unlikely ruse she was engaging in.
Another six minutes passed without sound or incident, excepting my own pounding heart, and the Nightborne Colonel ultimately exhaled. “We’re clear,” she announced to some released breaths, including my own. “We’re inside Thestralslovakia now, but patrols have passed us without seeing or hearing us. Helmspon—er, Mister Sora—reduce speed to one-third again.”
“One-third, aye,” he replied in some audible relief as he drew back on the speed control lever and the noise of the engines dropped.
“Mister Azimuth, how close are we to Cloudsdale?” Tailwind asked in a low voice.
“About twelve miles,” he reported as he pored over the map table and made some marks on it, though he was navigating by dead reckoning and in very dim light. “We’re approaching obliquely, though. Estimate eighteen minutes to arrival at current pace,” he told us, and I’m sure I wasn’t the only one to grimace. I badly wanted to order us to speed up and make a dash for the city, but I kept the impulse in check, guessing there was a good reason for not doing so.
“’Tis deliberate,” Aegir Ale confirmed without my prompting. “I’m going in roughly the standard patrol direction around Cloudsdale to buy us more time to deal with them. If we go in directly, we will likely run afoul of flights further back. This way, we increase the time between patrols and I can react to any I detect.”
“Doesn’t Cloudsdale have its own patrols out?” Tailwind asked.
“No,” she replied shortly, the severe stress in her voice evident as she attempted to maintain her focus in the face of a very daunting task. Methinks I could not blame her for being terse, trying as she was to both listen in on her side’s communications whilst piloting a large airship in the dark for the first time.
“We told the surviving Corps and militia forces there to stay within the city, lest they be sighted flying by griffon spies and thus give away not only the city’s position, but the fact we were harboring them. Now be silent!” she hissed again, even more sharply, holding a hoof to her ear not unlike what Ensign Kusema did when she was listening in on communication crystals, leaving me wondering again exactly what the Colonel’s curious contraption was and how it worked.
Another nine minutes—and two more changes of course and altitude—followed. But our luck was holding as we got past another pair of patrols, and we were less than five minutes away. We were close and I had just started to relax when Aegir Ale hissed and swore violently.
“They know we’re coming!” she nearly shouted, making us all jump. “I know not how, but they detected the ruse! Multiple regiments are scrambling from Cloudsdale with orders to locate and board us! They’ve been ordered to prevent your arrival at all costs, and deadly force is authorized!” she announced in further dismay. “Captain—against that density of soldiers with thestral sight and hearing, methinks there is no way we can make it the rest of the way unseen!”
Our subterfuge was uncovered. The situation was dire. And yet, I actually relaxed when I heard her warning, for now ‘twas my ship again, and ‘twas up to me to command it. “Then methinks there’s no point in hiding any longer! Mister Sora, bring us on a direct course for the city! Come to one-nine-zero and all ahead flank speed!”
“One-nine-zero and all ahead, flank speed, aye!” he shouted back, spinning the wheel and slamming the speed lever forward as I tapped a crystal on my bridge chair. I knew full well I’d be lighting a beacon to the bat-ponies by doing so, but it mattered not. For speed—and not stealth—was our only savior now.
“All crew! The Nightborne know we’re coming! We’re making a run for the city at maximum speed! Secure ship from boarding but do not fire unless fired upon! Mister Tailwind, prepare to ignite the ballonet defenses on my orders!” I spoke quickly, not waiting for acknowledgements from any of them before moving on to my next instruction.
The engines came up quickly and we began to surge forward, surpassing eighty, then ninety, then one hundred knots; a speed that would get us over the outskirts of Cloudsdale in less than two minutes.
“They’ve detected us, Captain!” Aegir Ale warned. “Multiple battalions closing! They’ll arrive in sixty seconds!”
“Doesn’t matter! Ensign Kusema! Call out on all Cloudsdale Militia and Corps communications channels! Tell them we’re inbound in ninety seconds but the thestrals do not want us getting there! Ask for their immediate assistance!”
“Aye-aye!” she said as she fumbled with her console, the lights on the bridge quickly coming up as we restored power to our systems; as I watched, Still Way’s shield shrouds fell over doorways and portals, buying us some additional time in case of boarding actions.
“Call acknowledged, ma’am!” she said in relief, her curious weapon still strapped to her back. “The Corps commander already knew something was up when the thestrals left suddenly! He says he’s scrambling a battalion of his own to meet us! He requests an indication of where we are!”
“Then let’s show him! Mister Tailwind! Ignite dirigible defenses at full power!” I told him, and his response was shortly drowned out by the massive crackle of electricity above us; gold-hued flashes of sparks flying in every direction instead of the pink-colored ones we’d seen before.
The latter was because the shield and lightning spells didn’t have the added energy of the main armament crystal behind it, as we’d used in the Epsilon battles. But I judged that regular power alone would be sufficient to dissuade leather-clad thestral soldiers, as opposed to well-protected Knights and Talons wearing enchanted armor and supported by Gryphon Mages.
And ‘twould also be lighting us up in a display easily visible through the mists all the way from Cloudsdale.
“They see us!” Kusema announced in some relief as the first calls came in of approaching thestrals in the thinning mists. “They’re on their way!”
“And so are the Nightborne…” Tailwind warned. “Should we launch our air wing and the Corps soldiers?”
“No! That will cause a battle for certain!” Aegir Ale was near panic. “Captain! Please! Whatever means you have to amplify your voice to be heard outside, give it to me! I can avert a war! I can talk them down!” she pleaded, her wing claws tugging on my sleeve.
Though surprised at the gesture—their wing claws meant they certainly had far more grasping ability than pegasus feathers!—I didn’t hesitate, grabbing a general quarters crystal and turning it on, making sure it was keyed for an all-points broadcast. ‘Twas certain the thestrals would not listen to me, but perchance one of their own could make them see reason.
She grabbed it immediately in her wing claws and held it to her lips, speaking quickly in her native Roamarean tongue, which was translated by a gem in my ear. “Hear me, my fellow Nightborne! This is Colonel Aegir Ale, commander of the 3rd division’s 8th regiment! You know me as a good and honorable soldier! I am aboard, so on my authority, do not attack! For the sake of peace between our nations, and regardless of your orders, you must allow the airship through!”
To my relief, that caused the approaching thestral formations to hesitate, several lower-ranked squad and platoon commanders calling back for instructions even as they formed a thick cloud around the ship, keeping their distance from the sparking ballonets. I heard Tailwind give an order to load the conventional cannons with flare shells, but I wasn’t sure how much good they would do if the thestral soldiers had donned their protective goggles, which seemed likely as I saw no glowing eyes.
“Colonel Ale?” a booming voice called out in a tone both angry and tinged with disgust. “This is Major General Muscadine! If you are here, then you are a traitor to all Thestralslovakia! You may consider yourself relieved and under arrest for this illegal action!”
“I care not, General! I challenge both your orders and your fitness for command!” Aegir Ale replied instantly and heatedly. “‘Tis certain to me you have lied about the Lunar Council’s instructions, and are deliberately trying to bring about war!”
“How dare you!” The General’s voice sounded too shrill, even distorted by whatever loudspeaker method he was using. “I am a soldier following my orders, as you are supposed to! And the orders of the council were clear! Their ship was to be seized and they were not to be allowed into thestral lands!”
“In direct violation of the treaty with Equestria?” she asked in disbelief, and the thestral soldiers began glancing at each other uncertainly. “If those orders are genuine, then the Council is full of foals! But if, as I suspect, they are not, then the traitor is you, General!” Aegir Ale spat back to a strangled sound from her division commander. “Even if the Lunar Council recommended such an idiotic course of action, I cannot believe that Viceroy Chardonnay would ever have approved it! In any event, it matters not—I am taking the ponies to Cloudsdale, as should have been my orders from the start!”
“Then you will die with them!” The General promised. “All regiments! You have your orders! Destroy the EAS Loyalty!”
“In full view of the Cloudsdale pegasi?” Aegir Ale pointed out with a sneer, freezing the few soldiers who started moving towards us in their tracks. “And what, by Luna’s Moon, do you think their reaction will be to seeing an Equestrian airship who was only trying to contact them attacked?” she challenged as suddenly two hundred Corps soldiers reached us, charging right through the thestral formations without resistance to quickly form a protective cordon around the airship, though they kept carefully below the level of the sparking ballonets.
“It matters not! War with Equestria is inevitable, so it may as well begin here! Soldiers! I ordered you to attack!” The General’s voice got more shrill as his instructions were not instantly obeyed.
“General, see reason! Cloudsdale’s population is in the tens of thousands! Do you think even the entire division could hold them down if you start a war with Equestria right in front of them?”
“She’s right!” a new voice broke in, this one speaking Equish into a standard Corps issue blue command gem to amplify his voice from just off the bow. “This is Sergeant Major Rolling Thunder, acting commander of all Cloudsdale defense forces! We have accepted your hospitality to this point and obeyed all your instructions, General, odd and overly-restrictive though they seemed!
“But if you attack our own, your true intentions will be made plain! And be assured, all Cloudsdale will rise up against you, just as they did against the gryphons!” he warned, his two centuries of soldiers brandishing their wingblades.
“Very well! So what will it be, General?” Aegir Ale called out in Equish this time as the thestral formations began to visibly waver and Cloudsdale came fully into view, her normally bright night lights extinguished. “Will we have a just peace and an honorable obeying of our treaty? Or a battle with the sky city we cannot win followed by a war both sides will lose?”
“I care not, as that treaty was never honorable!” Muscadine all but snarled. “My oath was to serve the interests of the Moon regardless of what those idiotic wine-sipping bureaucrats in Hollow Shades think! I serve a higher purpose than petty politics, as should the entire Nightborne Army! This city is our prize and one we can use to curry favor with the Empire! Equestria is as much our enemy as theirs, and this will gain us an ally against them!
“Now enough talk! My orders are given! All regiments! For the glory of the moon and all Thestralslovakia, attac—” there was a sudden gurgling sound that was quickly cut off followed by the leaden thump of something large hitting the floor.
“Hold!” Rolling Thunder and Aegir Ale called out in their respective languages whilst we waited for whatever was happening on the other end to resolve.
Twenty seconds later, a new voice was heard, this one female. “This is Brigadier General Blackhawk, formerly commander of the first brigade. The Major General has been removed from his post,” she announced in a dull voice, speaking in Roamarean before switching to Equish.
“As senior officer, I assume command of the 3rd division and order all regiments to safe their weapons and escort the EAS Loyalty to Cloudsdale. It should now be clear to all listening that the Major General was not acting in accordance with the Lunar Council’s instructions, and I thus offer my sincerest apologies to the Loyalty’s Captain and all aboard.” I could just hear the sound of a blade being sheathed in the background.
The Colonel collapsed with relief, falling to her knees beside me as all her tension was released at once. “Th-thank you, General.” She hid her face behind a wing, perchance to hide her sudden tears from all the doubts and fears she’d been suppressing; methinks ‘twas only then I truly understood how hard it had been for her and how much it had taken out of her.
“You are welcome, Colonel Ale. ‘Twas a very brave and daring deed you did. And when you feel able, I request to speak with you and the ship’s Captain privately, on board the airship.”
“I am Captain Shady of the Loyalty. ‘Twill be my pleasure to welcome you aboard, General,” I stretched out my head to speak into the crystal Colonel Ale was still clutching, laying a hoof on her shaking back.
“Your Colonel is very honorable, and she should be commended for her willingness to act in the face of her orders to preserve the peace. But before you arrive, please allow us to dock and greet our brethren, and we will then be happy to receive you…”
As I read through this section, I find old and decidedly unpleasant memories reawakened of an-all-too-similar situation I would face later with far higher stakes; a decision I would be both lauded and condemned for to this day.
But that story comes much later, and methinks I do not wish to dwell upon it now. ‘Tis worth noting that the Empire, and even the Kingdom to a lesser extent, would not brook such flagrant disregard of orders and usurping the chain of command as the General showed, even in the pursuit of what he perceived as some greater good.
But this situation would present us with a severe quandary, as not one but two high-ranking commanders did so—one to defy his orders and the other to defy him, even though the latter had no evidence except her own suspicions that he was contravening his duty and substituting his judgement for those of his leaders.
‘Tis a difficult dilemma, and I do not envy Colonel Aegir Ale for facing it. But perchance the difference here is that she was attempting to stave off war and act in the interest of both sides, whilst the General acted to cause a war and force his nation to side with the Empire against Equestria.
Mayhap he thought himself selfless for doing so. But I strongly suspect even through these readings that he wished for war not out of what was best for his nation, but out of a simple desire to wage war on Celestia. ‘Tis no doubt in my mind that he was ultimately acting in his own interests rather than those of Thestralslovakia, and ‘tis to Aegir Ale’s credit and the eventual benefit of both nations that she saw through his scheme.
—Layan Kaval
Ambassador to Equestria
Gryphon Kingdom Consulate
Canterlot
Imperial Headquarters
Eagle Aerie Supply Base
Outside Cirrus Cassada
September 04, 1139 AC
0025 hours
As we entered the fourth day of the invasion of Equestria, with the Prelate electing to direct operations from our main supply base and marshall point for arriving troops until his mobile headquarters was reestablished, the reorganization of frontline units was nearly completed.
With the advance south and west scheduled to resume on all fronts at dawn—we would have much preferred dusk to take advantage of our superior night vision, but our forces needed rest and reassigned commanders additional time to get settled—‘twas decided to not wait another day for the sake of keeping up the pressure on the still-reeling pony forces, which the Prelate judged more important than waiting for night to fall anew.
As the red moon raised by Celestia reached its apex in the sky—I personally enjoyed seeing it, as ‘twas the color of combat and might well unsettle the ponies further—we were still receiving after-action reports from the major first-day operations, including the attack on Cloudsdale.
We had only just received word back from the raid on Fort Spur as well, courtesy of the Office of Owls, who passed us a hastily written report by the raid’s surviving senior NCO; a First Spear Wind Knight. She and the remnants of her attack force had been recovered by offshore ships placed to receive them. She regretted to report that despite severe damage and casualties, the Fort still stood, and worse, the raid commander—Centurion Pylea, one of my best and most trusted Talaeus warriors—was dead, slain by the very pony she had been assigned to kill.
‘Twas a doubly bitter blow for the knowledge that the raid had been planned by me; a fact the Primarch took great pains to remind me of. But her opinion mattered far less than the Prelate’s, who openly reserved judgement until he knew more. In the meantime, ‘twas time to examine the results of the long-distance raid on Cloudsdale by over two millennia of Wind Knights—fully a third of our available contingent at the start of the campaign—that had resulted in an astounding and unacceptable 90% casualty rate amongst our best aerial troops.
To be certain, they had mostly succeeded in their task despite their losses, destroying almost all of the weather factory including the all-important Storm Cloud production facilities, wiping out their existing stockpiles of storm clouds as well.
But they had failed to slay most of the workers, which, it must be said, were indeed targets of our attack. I will not justify it here as the debate has already been held previously on both sides of the former battle lines, but ‘twas a deliberate decision to ensure that the plant could not be quickly rebuilt or easily restored to operation after our raid.
The reports of what had befallen our forces were almost too fanciful to believe, ranging from a city populace that had risen up en masse to expel their invaders, and incredibly, a single pony warrior decimating entire centuries of elite Knights; even wiping out entire teams of highly trained Ravens.
Interviews with numbed and traumatized survivors told of a gray-furred and gold-maned pegasus stallion who wielded lightning like a Magus and could even slay them with it, turning the very skies against them and organizing the surviving weather factory workers to effectively resist.
He had been identified by the Owls as Second Lieutenant Thunderbolt, a former Aerial Corps officer in large measure responsible for the many atrocities inflicted against Imperial citizens some twelve years earlier, during a retaliatory operation against the Lucavi raider group that had nearly resulted in war when it devastated half the province. Nicknamed the “Lightning Demon” by both the Lucavi and now our surviving Knights, ‘twas said his mere presence had instantly turned the tide of battle wherever he had been.
And even where he had not been, the ponies had repulsed the lesser of our two attack prongs without his help, using olden shields of unknown make that had been proof against Magus attacks, and some form of lightning magic that had rendered their storm clouds both impervious to our lightning release spells and far more able to defeat Knight armor.
The latter was particularly alarming to our battered Knight formations, who had found themselves facing volleys of twenty lightning bolts their armor could not protect them from, and were finally forced to retreat from the militia base in their face.
But the larger assault in the weather factory had also faltered in the face of overwhelming numbers of well-organized civilians and two surprise counterattacks, the second coming from a reinforcing cohort-sized Corps force that had dove out of the sun and caught them looking the wrong way.
‘Twas a grim picture, and though certainly a major victory for meeting most of its assigned—and very critical—objectives, ‘twas a very heavy price to pay.
We were interviewing the surviving Raven leader, whose name I will hide behind an alias for the sake of her kin. “‘Twas like nothing I ever saw… or even thought possible!” Optio Travina told the Prelate in a trembling voice, nursing her tea with one set of talons whilst her other remained in a sling, her body bearing an array of healing bruises, burns and blade wounds.
“He could not be slain. He could not be stopped. All who attempted to engage him perished.” Her eyes held a hauntedlook in them as she continued. “Methinks I cannot explain it—’twas not his strength or speed that slew us, horrific though they were; ‘twas that he knew our movements before we did! He knew instinctively what to do regardless of who he faced! And by using such awful abilities, he killed my team effortlessly!” Her talons began to shake.
“And how did you survive?” The Prelate asked gently as the Primarch frowned behind him. Methinks Salvio Gaius would normally have been disgusted at such a tone of terror from those who were supposed to be the most fearless of our forces. But she was hardly the first to show such symptoms; the mere mention of the pony in question produced visible consternation and occasionally outright fright in Knight and Raven alike.
She blinked, as though coming out of a trance, and then looked down in shame. “I was stunned by a lightning bolt that impacted near me and then a wall fell on top of me, wounding but hiding me. The cloud below cushioned me enough to survive, but with a broken arm and rib. I hid there until nightfall, and then kept to the shadows before diving off the side of the city.”
“So you flew all the way back to our lines in that state?” Even the Prelate seemed impressed, motioning to her bandages with a pointed talon.
“Yes,” she said without any hint of pride. “Twas that or be captured and killed by vengeful ponies. Thankfully, the 7th Legion’s advance reached me and I presented myself to them. Once I was treated, I returned to Cirrus Cassida to make my report.”
“Shameful,” The Primarch pronounced. “’Twould appear the Owl’s pets have gone soft!”
“Commendable,” the Prelate retorted. “I am impressed that you survived and made it back to our lines, Optio. Sometimes merely living to tell the tale is triumph enough. Will you recover?”
“I am told I will be fully healed and battleworthy again by tomorrow, My Lord,” she answered carefully, leaving me wondering about her mental state as opposed to her physical one. Many Knights, even longtime veterans, were suffering from battle shock after losing far too many of their comrades at Cloudsdale to both Thunderbolt and the civilian uprising; there had even been at least one suicide.
“I see. That is fortunate. For as we are now short on Ravens until additional teams arrive, I can use you,” the Prelate told her. “I will give you a fresh team. As you are already familiar with the city, I need you to find and infiltrate Cloudsdale again.”
For the first time in my life, I saw a Raven stiffen in fear. “M-my lord, I—”
“But this time, you are not to engage in battle or attract attention to yourselves,” he quickly added. “I require an intelligence gathering mission—not assassination.”
“As my Prelate wishes,” she said in some relief, visibly struggling to master her fears of a demon of death whom she knew she had been lucky to survive once. “And my team’s objectives…?”
“Steal one of those shields that repelled Magus magic, and discover whatever strange means they used to produce that altered lightning, bringing it back if possible,” he told her. “If you can, also perform a post-damage assessment on the weather factory, but only if you feel ‘tis safe to do so. Your primary objectives are to obtain the items stated and return them to our lines. And ‘twould be greatly preferable that you not be seen doing it.”
She squeezed her eyes shut for a moment, trying to steel herself. “Do we know where the city is?”
“Not precisely. We believe ‘tis likely to be located here—” he paused long enough to tap a circled area on the map “—hidden just outside thestral lands, shrouded by the mists of the Foal Mountains. ‘Tis the only place it could have gone unseen, and ‘twould explain why the city has not been sighted by Owl agents in major pony cities since the initial attack,” he mused. “The Owls will give you a full briefing and assign your new team. I expect your departure no later than noon tomorrow, covered by our renewed offensive. And Optio…?”
She didn’t immediately reply, her beak visibly quivering as she stared at the map. “Optio!” the Prelate said more sharply, causing her to look up.
His expression softened. “I would not ask this of you but for the fact you are now the only ranking Raven left with knowledge of the city. I realize you are still suffering, as many who took part in the raid are, but I would suggest you might yet salve your pain with a successful mission. Avoid contact. Obtain what we need. And whilst you do so, be assured your fallen comrades will be avenged, and the demon that slew them will die.”
“Thank you, Prelate.” She drew herself up and saluted, unable to quite restrain the trembling of her foreleg. “I thank you for your confidence. Now if you wouldst excuse me, I must prepare for my task.”
“Of course,” he returned the gesture. “For Empress and Honor.”
* * * * *
She had barely departed before the Primarch spoke up. “So yet another costly victory befalls us, and then you refuse to follow up its hard-won success? I fail to see what we gain by sending in a single Raven team. Cloudsdale is crippled and vulnerable! If we know even its rough location, then we should launch a second strike against it immediately!”
“Your counsel and complete lack of strategic sense are duly noted, Primarch,” Salvio Gaius replied acidly as he rolled up a map scroll.
“I lack strategic sense? Methinks you are the one failing to obey the most basic of predator instincts to finish off wounded prey!”
The Prelate’s eyes flashed. “Because our objective there was met, Primarch, despite the losses we suffered!” he explained with the air of a sire talking down to a cub. “And since you are clearly unable to think in any tactical terms except brute force, allow me to put it simply: if we go after the city again now with our remaining Wind Knights that deep into their territory, we risk an even bloodier repulse and a defeat they could sing from the rooftops!
“And worse, if they are hiding out in the Foal Mountains near the Thestralslovakian border as the Owls suspect, we would also risk antagonizing the bat-ponies and driving them into Celestia’s camp in enough time for them to make a difference!” he spelled it out, and then exhaled sharply.
“Far too costly though ‘twas to us, our initial attack on Cloudsdale succeeded. The weather factory is destroyed and their storm cloud production ended for the foreseeable future. They will have no choice but to turn all their remaining civilian cloud stocks to military use, thus crippling their weather control.
“They will in turn be forced to allow normal weather patterns to reestablish themselves across the continent in order to water their farms—indeed, Celestia has already called for exactly that!” He tapped an Office of Owls intercept showing her latest set of General Orders to her forces. “‘Twill all be to our advantage. For we are used to operating in natural weather conditions. They are not. And ‘tis certain their civilian morale will suffer as they see their nation no longer in control of the elements of nature they once commanded.”
“And what of the Lightning Demon?” I asked as I skimmed through the rather impressive Owl dossier on him, feeling a rare thrill go through me at the thought that this Lieutenant Thunderbolt might—might—be an actual challenge to a warrior such as me. “Methinks we need not risk any more rank-and-file soldiers against him. In their place, let me go after him, My Lord! I know I can slay him.” I stood up straight before the Prelate in offering.
He considered my suggestion for a moment, only to shake his head. “No.” He held up a wing to forestall my protest. “One pony, no matter how skilled, cannot defeat this invasion, my friend, and any killings in the city would attract attention when we want none. In truth, methinks he did not even defeat this raid, as he accounted for but a century and a third of soldiers and would have been swiftly slain by our mages had reinforcements not arrived.” He motioned down to the various report scrolls.
“Be that as it may, he is a threat to our forces and could be a rallying point for theirs, My Lord,” I tried again. “I can infiltrate the city with Optio Travina’s team; find him and finish him. His apparent bloodlust and ability to inspire makes him dangerous,” I motioned down at the ominous Owl reports on him, describing a nigh-invincible adversary who hated gryphons and had once slaughtered the leadership of the Lucavi Raider Group—as well as the civilians they were hiding among—wholesale. “And thus, methinks ‘twould be best to deal with him sooner rather than later.”
“Dangerous, yes. But controllable? No.” Gaius shook his head. “Your eagerness does you great credit, my friend, and I have no doubt you wouldst be up to the task. But methinks he is less a threat than you think, for such extreme bloodlust as the Owls indicate he possesses does not lend itself to discipline or restraint—as I once had to learn the hard way.” He grimaced for a moment, leaving me wondering of what—or whom—he spoke.
“And what is your point?” The Primarch needled, having been only briefly cowed by the Prelate’s lecture.
Forever beyond your grasp, I admit I was tempted to say, but I let the Prelate deal with her. “The point, Primarch, is that instead of sacrificing a century or more of soldiers in a futile attempt to overwhelm him, we can use his bloodlust against him. ‘Tis certain he can be easily induced to charge headlong into our forces at a time and place of our choosing, and if we are ready, he can then be slain quickly and at little cost.
“But that will come later. For now, let the ponies deal with him—if they can.” To my surprise, he closed his eyes and smiled as he spoke his next words. “Methinks they have their work cut out for them. For take it from me—a demon of death such as this Thunderbolt is just as dangerous to his own side as to ours…”
As much as I hate to admit it, methinks the Prelate’s assessment was correct on all counts. For we would find out just how dangerous Thunderbolt truly was to our own side shortly, and that—excepting but a single pony—we were equally helpless against him.
Thank you for your latest entry, Ambassador, and thank you as well for you and Marquis Ampok checking in on my father. Your latest visit was appreciated by both of us, as was the invitation to attend dinner at the embassy with your family upon his discharge. ‘Twill likely be another month before he is recovered enough to accept your hospitality—to our mutual frustration—but ‘tis welcome nonetheless.
On that note, I bring down the curtain on this chapter. ‘Twas in fact my intention to continue with another section, but reading this over now, I believe we have a full entry. I know father would wish me to wait on him to write the next one, which will involve matters near and dear to his heart. Ones that ‘tis certain he will want to offer his own perspectives on.
At this moment in time, we had accomplished two major goals—making contact with Cloudsdale and averting conflict with the thestrals. But all was not well on either front, and very shortly, a new, and far more immediate danger would present itself.
—Firefly
“Aut viam inveniam aut faciam.” —Hannibal (“I will find a way or make one”)
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You have a math error. 8500-800 is 7700 not 7800.
Great chapter. I'm looking forward to the Thestral/Cloudsdale situation unfolding.
10126304
I can’t believe I did that.
Fixed with apologies. And thanks.
So am I correct in inferring that BG Blackhawk followed a more, let's just say Klingon route for dealing with an overly presumptuous superior? If so, then the Empire definitely doesn't want them on Equestria's side. But for their smaller numbers these thestrals are seriously hard core when it comes to their military, much more like the Empire than Equestria.
Wow that general was stupid.
You certainly got the tension up for a chapter without combat, looking forward to seeing further interactions with the thestrals!
10126318
he did admit to basically Treason so. Death is the usual punishment for such a crime.
You hit Feature. Congrats.
I guess that's what the chapter's title was referring to.
It's good to have you back, ITS! Congrats on re-featuring!
Letdown! I really like those two... even if the thing about them being "based" is a meme that's aged very badly. They're tough mares with a good bit of edge to them. I understand they can't be on call 24/7 to help compile for this particular documentary.
This brings a question to mind: Seeing as how ponies possess technology this advanced back during the war, do ponies today have stuff that could help out Scootaloo or is her condition simply untreatable?
Equestria... the final frontier.
Given their enormous vulnerability to light, it's pretty much inevitable they'd have designed some goggles to keep themselves from going blind. Good addition.
It would be poor form and tradecraft if instead of maintaining stealth you were greeted by the sound of Thestrals singing, "I used to be a greying tower alone by the sea. You became the light on the dark side of me".
Eventually, I will need to create my own lyrics to that. Best love song ever made!
Firesight has been shipping since 2012 but this is the first time I can think of he's shipped onboard a ship!
derpicdn.net/img/view/2020/2/14/2274224.png
Somepony sounds smitten! UwU
That's quite a thing to give away to a potential enemy! Aegir Ale confirmed as a total brony. I am curious how it is they detect pony spells and how that manifests physically. Do they get twitchy like Pinkie Pie? Do they feel a sensation in their skin or does their fur stand on end? Does magic sound like bagpipes to them? I look forward to finding out.
That's a brilliant idea, even better than having the ship's radioman start doing whale noises with his mouth.
Credit to the thestrals here. They're not going to make this easy.
Goddammit, Xenophilia! Why you have to make Lyra Heartstrings a Zen Badass? The hell were you thinking!? Are you high!? *ahem* Sorry, it's 2020 and I haven't complained yet this year. Felt this was as good an opportunity as any. Moving on...
The ponies were very much inspired by Gringott's Bank, I see.
You know, there's one person in all of MLP who could do an even better job at impersonating a ship than Still Way:
derpicdn.net/img/2018/10/18/1859325/large.gif
At the very least she could impersonate the ocean with those smooth kirin moves!
You haven't seen this man after he's downed a pot of cloud creole. There is going to be sound and fury coming out of this man that will blow your mind!
Ahh. That must be the Mobile Audio Network Grid Observer or MANGO for short. The very latest in bat technology!
The thestral technical term for this situation is SHTF, or shit hits the fan. Things have just gone from SNAFU - situation normal, all fucked up - to TARFU, things are really fucked up!
Richard Marcinko would say in the bush you'll hear your heart pounding so loudly in ambush when the enemy shows up you'll swear they'll be able to hear you. I like this line!
Do you know why it's called dead reckoning? You reckon wrong and you be dead.
Ahh Colonial. The ponies clearly didn't check the hold well enough before departing because Mister Murphy managed to slip onboard and things are now FUBAR - fucked up beyond all repair.
Drive it like you stole it, Sora!
[speech 100] required! Well, Aegir Ale is a proven combat bullshitter. I think she can pull it off!
You won't get away with this
Autumn Leaf, I mean Muscadine!Vainglorious idiot. If his troops didn't think he was a narcissistic asshole with delusions of grandeur they do now.
And when this is all over I'm going to beat him with it for nearly getting us all killed!
She's a jolly good brony that no bat or pony can deny! I love Aegir Ale.
Foreshadowing!
The highly-conductive, infinitely productive, turbocharged terror of the skies. Fear him!
One man's terrorist is another man's Swarzenegger.
That's quite the escape! To have avoided capture in this most extreme of scenarios is commendable to the highest degree.
Oh, it's you again.
I love the Primarch. No matter what kind of stupid shit I've said or done in the past, it can never match even a single day in the life of this woman. I never have to feel shame for anything. She's an inspiration for fuckups everywhere!
That is the kind of detail I mentioned a while back when it comes to large-scale brutal combat that is unavoidable. I'm heartened to see this war isn't just going to be statistics and squiggly lines and map painting when it is so much more than that.
Papa Griffie will avenge us all! He's such a sweet-natured commander deep down.
Fallout 3 super-mutants and LOTR orcs have less aggro than this caved-in-head meme of a purebred bitch eagless. Please, please, please, let this awful woman die.
I bet he wishes he had a rolled-up newspaper to whack her with every time she spouts off with uninformed nonsense. Poor guy...
The fact she compares warfare in any sense to hunting food tells me everything I need to know about her character. Hunting and fighting wars of scale are similar in the same way track sprinting and mountain climbing are similar because both require the use of your legs.
You can justify that the ends justify the means until the ends have been met and all you're left with is a pile of corpses.
The phrasing sounds significant...
And this is where reality closes the door on heroes really quick. Commanders talk about other commanders, track their movements and get to know them as much as can be possible. You can be an absolute genius, or in Thunderbolt's case, a madman, but the battlefield is never static. It needs to be appreciated that no matter how good you are, if all you know how to do is attack, you will get killed because you will lose sight of the big picture.
Seems time is running out for Arnie.
10126504
um the General is dead. stabbed.
10126403
I just think it is another reason for the Empire to not want to fight the thestrals beyond the fact that they would bolster the Equestrian forces
While true, most subordinates would have subdued/incapacitated him for later trail/court marshal. And given that we did not hear him arguing with anyone on his side, I am guessing that Blackhawk didn't even try to talk him down. She went, like I said, straight for the hard core Klingon route for dealing with him. And instead of just stabbing him I envisioned her slicing his throat from behind like a boss for some reason.
Wowser, that almost got really bad very quickly. Lucky that the subordinate saw reason, and now I have another climactic chapter to look forward to. So much suspense!
I am glad that I recently Reread this Story And previous one for the chapter came out
You sure have a way of building up tension...that...was a close one.
With that I ring down the chapter?
That chapter leaves me wanting more.
10126619
not sure if there's a discussion point I'm missing.
Isn't that what I just agreed with?
10126956
you said it was a full Klingon style fight. it wasn't
10126318 10126326 10126579 10126650
Well, given the discussion here, I can see I’m going to clarify what happened and why in the next chapter but briefly: Yes, he was killed, even though I toyed with the idea of saying she’d only brained him with the hilt of her blade. Her justification for it isn’t exactly Klingon, though. I’ll get into that more in the next chapter.
10126318
Like I said, I wouldn’t call it Klingon. But then again, by some definitions, all factions in this story are Klingon due to their willingness to engage in honor duels, sometimes to the death.
Well, look at it this way--they’re a relatively small nation surrounded on three sides by a potentially hostile neighbor they fought a bloody war with in the past, and on the fourth by a magically volatile wilderness. And that’s to say nothing of their potential internal schism. So yes, they feel they have to be hard core, and it’s in keeping with their lost regent’s (Luna’s) traditions as well, who they revere.
10126377
Thank you!
Hopefully, you won’t have long to wait.
10126418
Thanks! I was glad to see it. It actually stayed on the feature board for five hours and both Firefly stories garnered three new likes apiece for it. All in all, a very successful release.
10126442
Exactly. The action was taken. The fallout remains to be seen.
10126588
That’s what I was aiming for! Glad to know you think I hit the mark.
10126764
Good timing!
Hope the new chapter was worth the wait.
10126798
That was the idea in this case! I wanted to make a really suspenseful chapter that would get reader hearts racing even without actual combat. Sounds like I succeeded?
This was another very interesting chapter and I expect that Still Way's ability to copy magic signals will come in play later on. I also have impression that Muscadine was terminated for his actions which is no less than such a warmongering idiot deserves.
10126859
Yep, sorry. Because what comes next needs to be in its own chapter.
I consider that a good thing!
10127531
Correct on all counts. We’ll find out more of what happened behind the scenes with Muscadine in the next chapter.
10126504
Don't worry--they will be back, and possibly sooner than you think.
I'd guess the latter as far as show canon goes. Her wings are stunted for unknown reasons, though they're perfect for zipping around on the ground like a speedboat. She could probably set the land-speed record! In this verse? Perhaps they just have to wait until she reaches a certain age/maturity level before trying to treat her.
These are the voyages of the airship Loyalty... her mission: to kick gryphon tail.
They aren't just simple goggles, either. There are a couple interesting features to them I haven't mentioned yet.
What style would thestrals sing in, I wonder?
Shipception!
Internally, he's squeeing!
You'll know that if does if they suddenly go completely quiet and acquire a thousand-yard stare!
Ha! I love it. I never saw Up Periscope!
Lacking most magic and heavy weapons, their military doctrine is based on two things: stealth, and denying it to others. They want to know where you are at all times so they can swarm you suddenly and overwhelm you quickly like they did with the Loyalty when he first appeared.
And you were doing so well, having made it over two months into the year before doing so, too!
Well, meet the original zen badass! Maybe I'll have him reference future events in Xenophilia just for you!
Pretty much! They don't keep mistreated dragons on leashes, though. And the dragons of this world wouldn't tolerate that anyway!
You're not wrong! They got good at charades, if nothing else.
Especially if they use too much Rainbow Factory hot sauce! In which case, the thestrals will avoid the area at all costs!
Brilliant.
You're on fire, my friend.
You should see their informational cartoons for soldiers!
Thanks! I hope RM himself would approve of this section.
Do you know why it's called dead reckoning? You reckon wrong and you be dead.
You'll find out exactly what gave them away in the next chapter. And I'm using one of your prereaders comments as the inspiration!
Grand Theft Airship!
Hey, Bullshitting is an art form precious few master! There should be an award for it, in my view.
He would have gotten away with it if it wasn't for that meddling Colonel!
And as he speaks this, he thinks he's an inspirational figure whose voice and fervently delivered words will rouse his troops to action. He actually swallows his own BS.
On the one hoof, you'd think he should face trial and killing him is extreme, even here. On the other hoof... well, you'll find out why next chapter. Sorry to keep saying that, but it's true.
Let's toast her with some actual ale! Or maybe some Lunar Moonshine.
Me? Never!
They do!
And so do many ponies...
But can he deliver one-liners like Arnie?
Thankfully for her, the Prelate agrees.
If this was Nightmare Night: Temptations & Transformations, I'd pull a Blueblood on her where I basically sexually addict her to ponies and especially backdoor action, leaving her aware of it but unable to fight it. Because she deserves it!
She's the embodiment of the old adage people rise to the level of their own incompetence. In her case, she rose to command the most overwrought and inexperienced service of the gryphon military.
Nope, I want to keep individuals in perspective for this as well. And the gryphons may have a martial society, but that doesn't mean they can easily shake such an action as they suffered, watching civilian ponies rise up against them and being forced to kill them, or their comrades slaughtered effortlessly by a single demon pegasus.
He's got his flaws, but he's also got a great deal going for him as well. And in the end, he will indeed save the gryphon nation, via means I once told you about it privately.
You might have to wait a while. But I don't think it's a spoiler to say she'll get her comeuppance eventually.
Not to worry. He's got a spray bottle full of water handy.
Good analogy! Yes, she thinks in far-too simple terms. But Salvio Gaius' problem is that he sometimes makes things too complicated.
And your original ends are now worthless.
Maybe.
Well-stated. The question here is, can Thunderbolt save himself and his side by finally seeing the bigger picture...?
Without giving anything away here, I'll tell you my plans for him privately.
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I guess I was being a bit obscure with my memory, so here is the backup to what I meant.
Star Trek: The Next Generation S2 Ep8 A Matter of Honor.
This is the episode where Riker does an exchange program and serve on a Klingon ship for a time. Before he leaves he has a question for Worf:
Copied from Memory-Alpha
I couldn't find a clip of the talk, but I could find one of Riker putting the talk into practice.
So I stand by my statement that General Blackhawk acted in a very Klingon manner in dealing with her deranged superior.
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Blackhawk assassinated Muscadine because he became unfit to command. No duel was or is needed in that case.
Even if Riker had straight up stabbed that Captain he would still have gotten command of that ship, just like Blackhawk did here.
I had thought Silent Night was still helping 'write' this series
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I'm sorry, I didn't notice this comment until just now. I'm not sure how I missed the notification on it.
Silent Night has died by the time of this writing and has thus contributed no sections to the stories--any sections you saw with her were not written by her. The nature of that passing has yet to be explained: did she fall in battle, or to some other cause during or after the war? You'll get the answer eventually, but for now, she is simply known to be passed.
This story actually give me the viewpoints to see in the Ukrain war currently running. Now i understand why Civilian are killed, because the difference between a Civilian and a Soldier is a gun and some training as well as to denie production of any kind to press local forces into supply shortages.
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Any such resemblance is unintentional since this chapter was written long before the war erupted. But yes, the differences can very quickly blur, given civilian efforts to support the military. The accepted Laws of War generally hold that once you pick up a weapon even if you’re a civilian, you lose any and all right to be treated by the other side as anything but a combatant. And those captured fighting out of uniform can under certain circumstances be tried and executed as an illegal combatant. I’m not an expert on those, but I know you surrender your right to be treated as a civilian once you pick up a rifle and fight.
But
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WHY
DO YOU
KEEP BREAKING MY HEART
I AM A FRAGILE CREATURE
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It’s not intentional, but an emotional type of war tale was what I was going for.
Just remember that there’s plenty of good to go with the bad.