The Last Charger 5
After all the horseapples I’d gone through I was ready for this damned day to be over. At least the day seemed to be accommodating me, considering the sun was finally going down. Wouldn’t have put it past Celestia to drag the day out a bit longer, just to mess with me. Not that I figured I was significant enough for her to notice, but life just seemed to love kicking me while I was down. It’d figure if she needed to make the day last a little longer for some reason, and it just so happened to fall on a day I couldn’t wait to see the tail end of.
I headed up to the crow’s nest. Spear was on watch duty, but all I had to do was order him off to get the place to myself. Not like anyone was likely to complain about being taken off watch duty. Once I was on my own, I pulled out what I’d planned to make my only companion for the evening; a bottle of grog. I couldn’t say much for the quality of it, but it was strong enough to get me good and drunk. That was all I needed.
When all I wanted was some time alone with a bottle of booze, you can imagine how happy I was when Torch showed up before I’d done much more than crack it open. “Sir.”
I groaned and quickly stashed my drink away. Letting the new recruit see me drinking myself into a stupor wasn’t something a responsible captain should do. I took a deep breath and tried to make myself look somewhat respectable. “I sure hope you’re not here to give me a bunch of bad news, because it’s supposed to be Talon’s turn to deal with trouble right now.”
Judging by the disapproving frown she’d shot my way when I turned command over to her for the night, she knew exactly what I was up to. Wouldn’t have put it past her to send the kid up here just to stop me. She hadn’t made a secret of her low opinion of my drinking, even if she’d given up on fighting me over it directly. Feather it, she was right that I needed to quit. Just ... tonight was no night to go sober.
“No news, sir.” He hovered in front of the crow’s nest. “Just thought maybe you could use a friendly face.”
For a moment I was tempted to grumble something about how I was fine, or just abandon any pretense of niceness and tell him to feather off. I shrugged off the impulse, and pulled out the bottle. “I don’t have any glasses, so if you want any sips you’re gonna have to drink from the bottle like me.”
“I’ll bear that in mind,” Torch answered, keeping his expression neutral enough that I couldn’t read whether he disapproved or just wasn’t in the mood for a drink. Whichever it was, he settled into a reasonably comfortable spot in the rigging that kept him close enough for conversation. “I presume this is because Glory passed.”
“And the world’s a better place for it,” I grunted, pulling out the cork and taking a swig. “Bastard should have died a long time ago.”
“I could hardly disagree,” Torch stretched out his wings. “So why did you go find somewhere to drink once you found out?”
I frowned, staring down at the bottle as I thought it over. “Too many damned memories. The clan, him, everything. You know how you said if you ever started thinking about revenge it’d drive you nuts? Well, this is how I keep from going crazy.” I snorted and took a pull from the bottle. “You know how many ponies from his company were willing to jump ship to my crew?”
“Yes, I heard.” He glanced back down at the crew quarters, which were a lot fuller than they’d been. “Even with casualties factored in, it’s a big net gain. I suppose you should be glad that tenth company is all the way back to full strength.”
“You’d think so.” I swirled my bottle a few times. “I’m not sure what bothers me more. That Glory was such a bastard that most of his company was willing to dump him the first chance they got, or that our clan’s in such bad shape that a de facto exile can so easily gain the loyalty of so many of them.” I scoffed and shook my head. “I know the clan elders don’t say anything good about me, so they’ve gotta know how it’s gonna look to sign up under me.”
“Is that what you think?” Torch chuckled softly. “Perhaps you don't know your reputation as well as you believe. Or you’re just so old and cynical you’ve forgotten how much young ponies disdain their elders and admire a rebel. The noble exile can easily be a figure of romantic mystery. Especially one who did so for your reasons.”
I scoffed and took another swig. “And what the romantic and daring lifestyle I’m leading. One more bad break away from my company falling apart from under me, and my employer pissed at me because I wouldn’t sell my kin as slaves. The only thing taking a noble stand did was keep the blood off my hooves. It didn’t stop the rest of them from going through with it anyway.”
“Perhaps,” Torch conceded. “But I recall an old saying I’m sure you're fond of. That we should never meet our heroes, because a hero is a perfect symbol no real living, breathing pony can live up to. If you actually meet them, they can only let you down and fall short of your expectations.”
“Sounds about right,” I agreed.
“Consider this, sir.” Torch tapped his hooved together. “You made a dramatic exit, walked away from the clan as part of a righteous moral stand, and for the last decade none of them have met you. If they chose to idolize you, they haven’t had to see you take an ugly job, or get drunk, or nursing wounds from a bar brawl. The only thing they know about you is your stand against the elders and your self-imposed exile. Their dreams and imagination fill in the rest.”
For the first time in years, I was gobsmacked. Torch ... wasn’t exactly wrong. Kids love anyone who talks back to authority figures, and could get a bunch of damn fool notions in their heads. “Guess that’s one way to look at it. Though it means that the best thing that can happen to them is that they never meet the actual, old, broken down, drunken fool I am. That’s why martyrs are always the best heroes; they die before they can let you down.” I sighed as the sun slowly dipped below the horizon. “Not that having false hopes does anyone any good. It just leads to disappointment and delusion.”
“Yes,” Torch agreed, only to change courses a minute later. “False hopes do that.”
His tone piqued my interest. “Take it you’re about to make a counterpoint?”
“Call it the difference between false hope and optimism,” Torch answered. “Yes, our heroes aren’t perfect, but sometimes we need to believe in things that aren’t true. That's the only way we can make them real.”
Sounded like a load of horseapples to me, but I wasn’t in the mood to argue with him. “If you think so. I’m no philosopher. They tried hammering some of that into my head back when I was a kid, and like most of the stuff they try to teach you at that age it went in one ear and out the other. Keep it simple, what’re you getting at?”
Torch shrugged, staring up at the stars. “Just thinking out loud.” He shifted around a bit so he could face me directly. “I know everyone says you’re a massive cynic, and you don’t seem inclined to argue with them, but I disagree. A cynic wouldn’t take a moral stand like you did. No, that takes something special. It takes belief.”
“Belief?” I repeated, not quite sure what to make of such a wild claim. “Belief in what?”
“Morals? Ethics?” He shrugged. “You’d know better than me.”
I grunted and shook my head. “Me, an idealist? Don’t think anyone’d go that far. All I know is that there are lines I won't cross. Nobody’s gonna tell their kids they should look up to me and follow my example, but at least I’m not a child-killing bastard or one of the other monsters I have to share the street with in Freeport.” I frowned down at the bottle in my hoof. “Maybe I was a bit more of an idealist ten years ago, but things change.”
“Yes, they do.” He turned to the side, directly facing me. “And so long as we’re on the topic. I am sure you know that there are those who want to change Freeport for the better.”
“And I want a bottomless bag of money and a bottle of rum that never goes empty,” I grumbled. “Might be you’ve noticed there’s a big gap between wanting something and making it happen. There're always people with big dreams like that, and you can see how much they’ve gotten done. There’s been talk about making Freeport a better place for centuries, and you can see how well it usually ends up going.”
“The Council seems to be making an effort and gaining momentum,” Torch pointed out.
I scoffed and rolled my eyes. “Oh yes, the glorious Council for the Emancipation of Freeport, we can’t forget them. What’re they really? Bunch of wide-eyed idealists and revolutionaries. Freeport’s had plenty of those before, and you know how most of them ended up. And that’s assuming they are what they say they are. Guys who run around with their faces covered ... well, hard not to wonder if maybe they’re hiding something.”
“A resistance movement does need a measure of anonymity,” Torch pointed out.
“Sure,” I granted. “Just saying, it could be a good excuse to cover up some kind of really dark secret. Not to mention rebellions aren’t cheap, and someone has to be paying the bills. Could be they’re catspaws for one of the necrocrats to screw over the others, though my money’s on the Equestrians. Not like it’s any secret they’ve got a beef with the ‘crats. Just saying, raises questions about their agenda.”
“What makes you assume there has to be more than what they say?” Torch asked. “An end to slavery and the necrocrats, and a new regime to replace them is already an ambitious enough goal, and rather objectively noble.”
I couldn’t help but laugh at the kid. I knew I probably shouldn’t, but it was just so... “Have you read any of Freeport's history, Torch? ‘Cause if you had, you’d know the Council is just the same as every other group. When they’re first setting up and establishing their legitimacy they talked a big game about changing everything for the better.” I counted them off on my feathers. “The Shining Path said they were gonna make a morally pure and upstanding nation after they tossed out Blackbeak the Pirate King. What they did was make one of the most oppressive and dogmatic regimes Freeport ever saw, run by a bunch of loonies who thought sticking a spirit into a mortal body and driving them crazy in the process was a good idea.”
Torch started to open his mouth, but I didn’t let him get started. “Then the zebras came in and said they were gonna bring stability and order. What we got was constant war and chaos when everyone who didn’t fancy a stripey sultan took up arms to fight them.” I counted off the last point. “And the Necrocrats? Ushabti talked a good game about building a prosperous and stable nation that allowed intellectual freedom and the right to practice whatever sort of magic you wanted as long as you didn't hurt anyone. Look at what we wound up with: a bunch of backstabbing bastards who see everyone in Freeport as a future zombie to exploit for free labor.”
I swirled my bottle, staring down at the contents. “You ask me, idealists who’re sure they’re the good guys are dangerous. They’ll toss you aside if you get in the way of their greater good, and be convinced they’re a hero for doing it. Least with a stone cold bastard you always know where you stand.”
Torch waited a couple seconds to make sure I was done talking, then responded. “Yes, that’s true. And if the Council succeeds, then perhaps in time their successors will become just as decadent and corrupt as every other group of high-minded idealists. But that doesn’t change the good they can do here and now. Accepting a current evil for fear of a possible one in a vague, nebulous future seems like a poor decision.”
“Assuming they actually pull it off.” I took another swig from my bottle. “You know how many revolutions actually manage to overthrow whatever regime is pissing them off? It ain’t many. Odds are, they’ll just get a lot of people killed to not change a thing. But let’s say they do pull it off. First step of a successful rebellion is to purge the old guard. Means a short rope and a long drop for the necrocrats, and anyone even loosely connected to ‘em.” I frowned as a particularly worrying though sprang to mind. “Might be worth considering that they’d probably lump you into that group.”
Torch raised an eyebrow. “You think so?”
I shrugged. “Your family were necrocrats, and not everyone’s going to stop and ask you for an explanation of why your death magic isn’t necromancy. Revolutionary bloodlust isn’t all that careful in picking its targets.”
“All too true,” Torch agreed. “Though I suppose if it comes to that, I could always emigrate to Equestria or Zebrica.” He shrugged. “And even in the worst case, I suspect I would be far down the list of enemies of the revolution. Well after the ones responsible for my clan’s death, since in all likelihood it was one of our rivals among the necrocrats. We certainly had no shortage of enemies plotting our downfall.”
“Only way to not piss someone off is to never do anything,” I agreed. “Actually, no. Plenty of folks hate apathy and inaction too.”
“Such as our clients,” Torch agreed. “I take it that if members of the Council attempted to free our client's slaves, you wouldn’t stand aside?”
“Don’t think I could,” I agreed. “I'd be very happy if we got through this job without any more trouble; Glory was bad enough.” I sighed and sipped a bit more grog. “I hate this job, but I made a contract. Took their money and promised I’d do everything I could protect them. Wouldn’t be right of me to leave them high and dry after that. Isn’t that part of my 'romantic image' you were going on about earlier?”
Torch frowned, turning his attention back to stars. “Hmm. I suppose it would be. Still, you hate our job and our client. I doubt most of the world would condemn you for letting the slaves go free.” He shook his head. “But then, I doubt you care what most of the world thinks one way or the other. For you, it’s a matter of personal integrity.”
“Something like that,” I conceded. “Reminds me of a saying my dad used to have: if the world says you’re wrong, you probably are. But if you sit down, think it over, and still decide you’re not, don’t be afraid to tell the whole world that they’re the ones who need to change their ways.” I took another drink. “Easier said than done. The problem isn’t that I’d make the world mad at me, it’s that I’d piss off exactly the wrong people in Freeport if I did. You should know what the Necrocrat my employer's working for would do to me if I ‘lost’ his precious cargo. And I gave ‘em my word. They might be slaving scum, but that doesn’t mean I get a free pass to be just as bad.” I took a deep breath. “The bottom line is that as captain my first duty is to protect my company. We were in a tight spot in that craphole Port Nowhere, and this will get us out of it. Simple as that. Once this job’s done the slaves are welcome to bust out.”
“I can respect that,” Torch nodded along. “Regardless of everything else we took a contract, and should honor it. Pity the contract says we have to get them all the way to safe harbor.”
“They don’t usually like to leave big, obviously exploitable loopholes in contracts,” I agreed. “So yeah, we do this job, and get it done and over with.” I leaned back in the crow’s nest, looking out over the ocean as the sun set, casing it in tapestry of brilliant red and orange. A poet could probably say something all fancy and heartwarming about it. All I could say was it looked nice. “We'll see about getting a better job once we get back to Freeport. This was a one time deal if I have anything to say about it. With how mercing goes, I might be hitting this exact same ship on their next trip, if this client’s rivals want to foot the bill. Or the Council, I guess. Long as the pay’s good and I can still sleep at night once the job’s done, I’m not picky about where the gold comes from.”
“So being an accessory to slaving is something you can live with?” Torch probed.
I scowled, not especially liking the question or his tone. Before I could tear his head off I realized exactly why the question pissed me off so much. Probably ‘cause it hit a little closer to home than I liked. “Can’t say,” I admitted. “Letting my company die wouldn’t sit right with me either, so seems like I was doomed to drinking myself to sleep either way.”
“Mmm.” Torch nodded, seemingly to himself. “Do you want to be alone, so you can get to that, sir? I’ll make sure you aren’t disturbed.”
I snorted. “You offering to keep me company?” I thought it over for a second. “Well, it’s less pathetic than drinking alone, but it comes with some risks. You might have to get my drunk plot down and into bed when I’m three sheets to the wind. Not to mention you run the risk of an old soldier telling you a bunch of tall tales about a mythic time where things were better, and the crazy things I got up when I was your age.”
Torch frowned and rubbed his chin, then shrugged. “Well, I finished checking over all the new gear, and I don’t have any other plans for the evening...”
Despite all the horseapples the last couple days had thrown at me, that put a smile on my face. “Heh, alright then.” I frowned down at the bottle, then tossed it over to him. Least he wasn’t Talon. Last time I’d tried to talk her into being my drinking buddy, she accidently wound up spilling all the booze. “Company’s better. This way at least I won’t feel like a lonely, forsaken old sot drinking alone until something finally gets around to killing him.”
“Very well then.” Torch took the bottle, not letting any of it go to waste. Even better, he passed it back to me after only taking a token sip. “So tell me a story of the good old days.”
I took another swig, letting it slosh around in my mouth as I stared up at the stars. “Hmm, which one to go with? How about the time me and my squad got sent out to save some young Necrocrat’s son from a group of ghouls who slipped the leash and went independent.” I snorted and shook my head. “Arrogant brat had his ransom tripled because he just had to tell them who his father was. Probably figured that since ‘do you know who my father is?’ got him out of every other problem he’d gotten himself into, it’d work here too. Or maybe he was playing a deeper game than that. After all, once the ransom was paid and we got him back the devious brat offered us a job to get some revenge on the pirates and...”
The rest of the night went pretty well, from what I could remember of it. Torch was the best kind of drinking buddy; he let me have almost all the booze for myself, and kept me company no matter how many of the old stories I tossed his way.
Couldn’t lie, I was getting downright fond of the kid. Not that I loved him lying about his magic, but after everything he’d been through I couldn’t blame him for being a little cagey, especially around Strikers. He had a good head on his shoulders, and having a battle mage in my company opened up a lotta new options. And ... well I’m not normally one for misty-eyed sentiment, but helping to keep the last of the Chargers alive sounded like a good way to ... well maybe not make things right, but make ‘em a little less wrong. With any luck, I could keep him in one piece long enough to meet a nice mare, settle down, and get to work making sure he wouldn’t be the last of his clan after all.
When I woke up the next morning, I regretting letting myself get so hammered last night. Not just because I had a nasty hangover that made the bit of light drifting in through the porthole feel like a pair of daggers stabbing into my eyes, though that didn’t help. I could barely remember anything that had happened last night, most of it gone in a drunken haze. Which was a damned shame, because the bits I could remember told me it had been a night worth remembering. Talon usually just rolled her eyes when I went on about the old days.
Speaking of my second, she started pounding on my cabin door well before I was ready to go out and face the world. Normally I would’ve told her to go do several colorful and anatomically impossible things, but if she was pounding on my door that hard while we were at sea it could only mean one thing. A second later she confirmed it. “Sir, trouble.”
Should’ve known. The one night I decided to slack off on my responsibilities and have just a little bit of fun, the universe would punish me for it. I’m just lucky that way. I groaned, resisted the urge to put a pillow over my head and try to ignore her, then forced myself to get up and open the door. “Okay. What sort of trouble?”
Talon didn’t waste any time tutting over the fact that I was obviously hung over, which told me that things were serious. “Ships. Three of them. Not flying any colors, but they’re setting up in a triangle around us. North, South, and West are all cut off, and unless we want to ground ourselves on that island East is out.”
I groaned and rubbed at my eyes, trying to get them working well enough to function. “Pirates?” I went over to the porthole and had a quick look around. Sure enough, we were way too close to land. “What’s the captain thinking, putting us here? I’m no sailor, but even I know we don’t want to get pinned against the coast.”
“Blame the client,” Talon murmured. “Rain’s been a bit slimmer than they’d like, so they wanted to stop off on the island to refill their water barrels.” She grimaced and shook her head. “Their cargo isn’t worth anything if they die of thirst before we hit Freeport.”
“Right,” I splashed some water on face, which at least helped speed the wake-up process up a bit. “Guess the why doesn’t matter anyway; this is where we are. No sense moaning about it when we’re about to have a fight on our hooves.”
Talon nodded. “Right, sir. Not sure who we’re dealing with just yet, but with any luck we should be able to figure out something. Get your spyglass and meet me in the crow’s nest?”
“Right.” I looked down at myself, taking note of the fact that other than a dirty, ill-used sleeping shift I didn’t have a single thing on. “Let me strap on my armor and my gear. If trouble’s coming for us, it’d be downright rude not to make sure we were ready for it.”
“Right.” She nodded to my gear, piled up on the dresser far too neatly for it to have been me who put it there. “Don’t take too long.”
I gave it all a quick once-over as I strapped it on as fast as I could without making a mess of it. My gambeson had that non-smell of something that had been properly cleaned out, and the rest of my gear had gotten some much-needed care. Not that I was sloppy about keeping it in good shape, but apparently Torch’d decided to go the extra mile. I vaguely recalled him doing that last night, mostly for something to keep his hooves busy as I told him about the time we helped take down that gang of vampire pirates.
Talon was waiting for me in the crow’s nest, barely sparing a glance at my slightly nicer looking gear. Bigger stuff on her mind, judging by the three distant shapes dogging us. “Better have a look, sir.”
“Right.” I checked each of the dots, then used my telescope to try and get a better look at the closest one. The ship wasn’t as big as ours—none of them were. Light little coastal galleys, great for hunting around in the islands and a lot faster and nimbler than us, but not at all suited to deep ocean. Too bad we weren’t out there.
Of course, the ships weren’t near as interesting as the crew. There was only one group that was crazy enough to go around in full face-covering masks. “Well well well, the glorious Council for the Emancipation of Freeport has decided to grace us with their presence.” I scowled at the distant ships. “Or we’re up against someone who thinks it’s cute to dress up like them. Though that’s real pointless if they’re hitting a slave ship.”
“Wonderful.” Talon sighed. “Out of all the enemies we could be up against, they’re the worst. Mercs just want to survive. True believers...” She frowned at the ships, studying their positions. “Looks like right now they’re focused on boxing us in. Probably want to make sure we can’t run for it or hold them off while the big ship escapes.”
I frowned and thought it over for a bit. “Yeah, probably. Galleys are made for coastal sprinting. If we get out into the open ocean and turn it into a stern chase, they’d have to give up. Especially if the weather is anything other than nice and calm. Big question is how exactly they plan to come after us once it’s time to stop dancing and get down to the bloody business.”
“Easy enough to guess,” Talon supplied. “Three lighter, more maneuverable ships up against our one bigger but less nimble ship. Only makes sense to pick tactics that maximize their advantages and minimize ours.”
I grunted and nodded. “Begs the question of which one they’ll go for. Could be they aim to try and make us go chasing after one of them while the other two go for the cargo. Or maybe they just plan to dance in and out and whittle us down bit by bit.”
“Neither one’s ideal for them,” Talon pointed out. “Trying to draw us out of position depends on us being stupid enough to take the bait. Not saying there’s no way they could, but it’d need to be tasty enough bait that they risk their trap turning against them.”
“And trying to whittle us down runs afoul of the fact that we’ve got a crew of pegasus veterans,” I added. “They try to play coy, and I’m fine with hitting them from the sky. Fliers can play the hit and run game just as well as speedy little ships, and even if they’ve got us outnumbered if you count all three ships together, we’ve got more and better fighters than any one of those ships on their own.”
“But they can only hit one ship at a time.” Talon frowned and shook her head. “It’s all a question of if we can isolate one of the ships and pin them down before the other two jump on our back. Won’t say we can’t pull it off, but they’ve got a big advantage in any sort of maneuvering game. We’ll have to be sneaky. Least we have some options; isn’t one of the old rules that you should never split up your forces in the face of a superior enemy?”
“Yup.” I frowned at the ships. “Question is whether they’re dumb enough to not know that rule, so sure of themselves that they’re not worried about breaking it, or if they’re trying to make it look like they’re making a mistake to bait a trap.” A nasty thought sprang to mind. “Or they’re just keeping an eye on us and making sure we don’t get away before something heavier shows up.” I was willing to bet that the Council didn’t have any problems with pointing the Equestrians toward any slave ships they couldn’t take on their own. They were both anti-slavery, after all.
Talon grimaced. “They’ve got no shortage of options. Unless you want to go chasing after them, best we can do right now is keep an eye on them so we’ll spot whatever move they make as soon possible.” She gave me a quick once-over, no doubt noticing my bloodshot eyes. “I’ll keep watch, you might want to have a word with the troops.”
“Probably for the best.” I wasn’t that hung over, but the prospect of spending a couple hours staring at ships and all that sun reflecting off the water didn’t sound all that appealing. Not that I loved the idea of gearing up for a fight either, but there wasn’t any choice about that. “I’ll get ‘em ready, you just let me know when we’re about to be on the sharp end.”
Talon snapped off a quick salue I barely caught as I flew down to the deck. A fair number of the troops were already on deck, and Torch seemed to be making the rounds checking everyone’s gear. If the kid was trying to impress me, he was doing a damn good job of it. I cleared my throat to make sure everyone was paying attention. “Looks like we’re set for another fight. Guess it’s just our luck this trip, everyone wants a piece of us.”
“We truly are blessed,” Torch murmured. He stepped up next to me, and seemed to need a moment before he spoke up. “Can I have a moment to speak to you in private, sir?”
“Really not a good time,” I growled. ‘Course, Torch had to know as much just by basic common sense. Which meant he wouldn’t even ask unless... “This important?”
“Very.”
I nodded, then trotted off to a part of the ship where nobody else was hanging around. “Make it quick then.”
Torch took his time actually speaking up, and when he did he couldn’t meet my eyes. “I haven’t been entirely truthful with you, sir. I told you my sword didn't have a name.” He took another breath, probably to gather his nerves. “Its name is Chainbreaker.”
Was that it? Did he really think him giving that fancy sword of his an equally fancy name was some sort deep dark secret meriting all this drama. Though I’d grant that if you had to come up with a name for a sword, I’d heard a lot worse than Chainbreak...
Wait a minute...
Son of a nag!
The kid spent all last night pushing me for what I thought about the Council. Right before a Council fleet shows up in a perfect ambush formation, and then he wants to tell me about how his sword’s got a name that’s only a touch subtler than Emancipator or Slavefreer.
No ... I didn’t wanna believe. But then, that’s how all the best backstabs work. They get you when you want to believe they couldn’t ever possibly betray you. After all, you never turn your back to someone you expect to put a knife in it.
I snarled, my hoof itching to grab my axe. “Might as well be called Traitor or Backstabber if this is going where I think this is going.” I hesitated just a moment, then quietly added. “Be real nice if this is where you tell me I’m getting way too paranoid in my old age.”
“Would that I could.” Torch sighed and shook his head. “It doesn’t need to go this way. I’m after your clients, not you. All you need to do is stand aside.” He stretched out a hoof towards me. “Or you could do more. Join me.”
That caught my attention. “Join you?” I frowned at him. “You think they’d just buy me turning coat when I was escorting the slavers a minute ago?”
“They will if I vouch for you,” Torch answered.
Now that was intriguing. “And who the feather are you to have that kind of pull?”
“We don’t exactly have a fully fleshed out chain of rank and command,” Torch answered. “But to give some context, I’m on my way back to Freeport after a mission to negotiate with Sultan Xanatorus for support.” He shrugged. “Admittedly, having a prestigious name and no reason to hide my identity helps in that regard. Unlike most of our soldiers, I have nothing left to lose. Or at least, I had.” He offered me his hoof once more. “So yes, if I vouch for your character, they will accept you. Please, the Emancipation Council needs soldiers like you.”
I snorted. “If they need a soldier like me they must be desperate.”
“Experienced, determined leaders who do not give up no matter how bad the odds?” Torch shot back. “Yes, we do need those.” He fixed his eyes on me. “And you need us, Belladon. I know a lost soul when I see one. You need a cause, something to believe in once more. It’s time to stop drowning your sorrows in the nearest bottle of alcohol, and seize the chance to be the great stallion you were always meant to be.”
Wow. Screw being a slave revolt leader, Torch had clearly missed his true calling of talking people into making bad investments. Too bad I’d seen his kind before. “I told you, I don’t break contracts. And even if I did, I’m not about to get me and my company killed in some damned foolish revolution or whatever it is you and your friends are up to.”
Torch sighed and shook his head. “I suppose you won’t even stand aside then?”
“No.” I scowled at him, but honestly I was too damned tired of all this Freeport horseapples to even be mad. At least Torch had come clean about it. “It took a lot of balls, or a lack of brains, to come to meet me face to face like this. Would’ve been a lot safer and smarter to cut my head off while I was passed out last night, or just bail and fly off to join your friends.” I thought about it a second more, then said something I’d probably regret later. “Get gone, kid. Go join up with your friends if you have to, but if you want my advice ... get outta Freeport. Change your name, settle down and find a nice mare, and get to work raising enough kids to start rebuilding your clan.”
Torch sighed and slowly shook his head. “Not the answer I hoped for, but I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised. After all, if your convictions were that easy to change, you wouldn’t be worth recruiting in the first place.” He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “I’m sorry.”
Before I could ask what he meant by that, he provided the answer. He flicked one of his hooves and muttered something in a language I vaguely recognized, and suddenly his entire hoof was covered in a dark purple nimbus of crackling power.
An instant later my knees collapsed. If not for Torch catching me and guiding me down, I would’ve slammed face-first onto the deck. I tried to get back up, but my legs barely even twitched. Even when I finally managed to get them back under me, they didn’t have enough strength left to hold up a housefly, let alone a full-grown armed and armored stallion.
I managed to flop my head around enough to get a good look at the rest of my company. They were all flopping around like a bunch of landed fish, probably about as useful as I was. “What ... what did you...?”
Torch shot a wistful smile my way. “Giving a spellcaster unfettered access to your entire company’s equipment for several weeks might have been a mistake. I hoped it would prove a needless precaution, but ... well I’m sure you understand my position.”
I tried to go for one of my hidden knives, but just reaching the sheath and pulling it out took so much effort it felt like I’d run three marathons in a row. “You ... backstabbing...”
“I truly am sorry it came to this.” The thing that really pissed me off about him saying that was that I could tell he wasn’t lying. He wasn’t a good enough actor to fake the regret in his eyes. Probably still wished I’d joined up with his crazy lost cause. “But then, you will shortly be released from your current contract, and the Council does hire mercenaries from time to time.”
He snapped off a quick salute with Chainbreaker. “Don’t worry, I’ll spare your men: I have no wish to harm you or any of them. A poorly chosen job is hardly deserving of a death sentence. Now, your clients...” He shrugged helplessly. “Well, I’m afraid you won’t get paid for this job after all. Just be glad you’re not on the same ship as the hundreds of angry, vengeful slaves we’re about to set free.”
Evidently satisfied he’d gotten the last word, Torch turned about and launched himself off the deck, heading straight for the fat-bellied freighter. He must have signalled the other ships, because they closed in and went to town on the helpless freighter.
By the time Torch’s spell wore off, the Council ships and the freighter we’d been escorting were long gone. All that was left of our clients were a couple corpses floating in the ocean, waiting for the sharks to come in for a meal.
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Belladon is so broke he can't even buy a break.
The least the Council could have done is reimburse the contract they destroyed....
9377541
Indeed
9377541
I'm not sure it would fit their 'free the slaves' credo if they rewarded the mercenaries that were happy to guard those slaves.
9377727
Who said anything about happy? Torch was willing to vouch for Belladon's company if they broke their contract, so the Council would know they were only guarding slaves because that was the only job. Belladon isn't exactly a paragon of morality, but he's made his distaste for the job clear on several occasions
9377727
Indeed. Just letting them walk away (well, sail away) was already nicer than usual. There’s normally not much of a distinction between slavers and the guys guarding the slaves when it comes to retribution.
9377784
While I'm sure the Council aren't entirely run by individuals who care only about freedom and liberty for all (I'm sure Equestria is funnelling some money and maybe deniable 'advisors' in their direction, they're anti slavery and if they happen to increase their influence in an important trading area for little possible loss, all the better) they probably rely on a bunch of freed slaves and 'true believers' as their rank and file / cannon fodder and as such good PR is probably a big thing for them. Any sign that they might be supporting anyone to do with slavery risks a revolt within their own ranks. Certainly the freed slaves are not going to look kindly on the guys who stood around watching while they got whipped and starved on the grounds that 'it was just their job' and 'well at least they weren't the ones doing the whipping and starving'.
Oof. What a twist.
So, Torch joined under false pretense, lied repeatedly to his CO, sabotaged his "comrades", and intended to betray them from the beginning ... considering how easily he forswears his oath to Belladon, any promises he might make (like, oh, "the Council would let you join if I vouch for you") isn't worth the spit it takes to say.
Oh yes, he let the Company live, that so makes up for selling them out to the Council in the first place and betraying his sworn oath to them.
But Torch will go on to put the Council in charge of Freeport, and Belladon and the rest will probably end up working for the traitorous little piece of shit.
(And to add insult to injury, now the entire Company has to either scrape together the money to pay a wizard to undo whatever curse Torch put on their armor, or, more likely, sell off all of their armor and buy whatever they can get to replace it, reducing the Company's effectiveness even further and leaving them even more desperate for whatever work they can find.)
9378036
As we know, the present Freeport under their rule, while still more or less a wretched hive, is objectively better than the one with the Necrocrats. Celestia once told Sunset how the current Council was once a group of passionate, idealistic individuals until the erosion of power made them more...pragmatic. And even now, several of their member still have embers from that fire in their hearts.
Let's hope Archon Sunset will be able to accomplish what their predecessors couldn't.
Ah, going to be one of THOSE stories. Got it.
Says the noble exile.
Yeesh. Torch is dropping so many hints, I'd think he was molting.
Yeah, pretty clear where this was going. Unwise decisions on all fronts here. Let's see what happens from here; the company's in truly dire straits now. Seriously, would it have killed Torch to leave some liquid assets for them after learning how badly they needed this job? Of course...
9378721
Building off of that parenthetical aside, this could be Torch's way of making his offer into one Belladon can't refuse. For someone fighting slavery, he sure doesn't seem to mind tying up someone by their pursestrings.
9381158 Yeah, I can see it ... he offers them a job for a pittance, while playing-up how no one else will hire them (due to his actions), and then Torch holds his "generosity" over Belladon's head whenever he thinks the old stallion might balk at something.
Damn. Torch seems like a good guy on the whole, especially by Freeport standards, but that was downright devious.
9382341
I will say in Torch’s defense he did all this in the name freeing captured slaves. It probably sucks to be Belladon and his crew right now but I have a hard time being upset about slaves being freed, and it didn’t seem like there were many other options. As has been pointed out, him not killing them all is actually rather generous given that most other instances of these sorts of liberations end with the guards being killed along with the slavers.
On the other hand, it's interesting that they kept up the practice all the way into the present day.
Probably because you know he's right.
Torch is doing a good job of getting an in with the company commander.
Hey, speak of the devil. I wonder if there's any chance Torch is involved in this little meeting.
Yeah, I figured as much. Interesting that he's out here serving as a bit of a public face for the anonymous Council.
Oops.
Ehh, good riddance. Regarding the clients, that is. I'd been wondering how this was going to develop into the rebellion from where it started, but turns out we were already several steps that direction already.
9384734 Oathbreaking and treachery are still things that are regarded as "evil" (both IRL, and in fiction), the fact that he did it for a "good cause" does not make his actions any less evil.
9389622
“Oathbreaking” is a bit of an exaggeration given that, as far as I remember, he didn’t swear any oaths beyond being hired by the company. And from Belladon’s worries about the company dissolving if they don’t get a job soon, it kinda seems like it’s more his job to provide its members reason to stay as opposed to anyone sticking around out of some sort of obligation (except for the one with the crossbow). Torch’s actions may be distasteful to some, but it’s not like double-agents are a new thing, and it makes sense a group like the Council would leverage any advantage that they could. Not to mention, if the Council doesn’t intervene, with Torch’s assistance, then a bunch of innocent people spend the short remainders of their lives being literally worked to death before being resurrected by necromancers to continue working. Or they could have raided the ship anyway and possibly killed Belladon and his whole crew. I don’t see an outcome beyond the one presented that’s good.
9390064 Accepting hire with Belladon in a private military company was a de facto oath of loyalty to said company, which he gave in bad faith, fully intending to betray them from the get go. And while double agents are a long standing reality, no one who is sane should ever trust one (if Bob is willing to betray X, Y and/or Z, why the hell would you trust him to actually be loyal to you?). The fact that Torch is perfectly fine with betraying ponies who trust him in order to make his "moral stand" does not make him any better in my books.
I don't think either of us is going to convince the other to change their view ... I guess we'll just have to see where Chengar goes with the story.
9390172
You provide a perfect example of why Lawful Neutral is the worst outlook.
9450317 Huh, first time I've ever been accused of being Lawful Neutral before ....
9451618
Well, with the argument being one of blindly following oaths and honor, seemed lawful neutral applied more. If you'd also advocated that the slaves deserved slavery because of weakness, that'd be lawful evil for sure.
9451805 Not so much blindly following oaths, but recognizing that anyone who makes said oaths with the full intent to gain the other party's (who is engaged in morally disgraceful, but completely legal work) trust and then betray them to their deaths (Torch sparing the Company strikes me as more of an afterthought attempt to convince himself that he was "the good guy") in the name of his own moral code does not actually have any moral high-ground, and is just a villain of a different color and with better publicity.
Is slavery wrong, yes (even though there have been several times and places where a slave was better treated than the free poor [because the slave had monetary value, if nothing else], never mind the Janissaries or Court Eunuchs who at times ran the governments they were enslaved to), but if Torch had pulled the same betrayal for some other reason, would people really be as willing to give him a pass?
9451834
Well, legal work under a tyrannical slaver/necromancer regime based around working people to death and then bringing them back to keep working that the Council is trying to overthrow. All freedom fighters are criminals until they win.
9452486 Quite true.
Although, if the necrocrats are making heavy use of zombie labor, why do they need a constant influx of new slaves? It seems unlikely that there are that many skilled labor positions that need living people to fill.
9453316
Maybe zombies break down after a while? Plus, like you said, they probably let some live to perform tasks too complex to give to a mindless organic golem.
9389622 I want to present a hypothetical scenario to you. You, a murderer, and an innocent person are in a room. The innocent is hiding in a closet. The murderer only wants to kill the innocent person, not you. They ask for your sworn oath of utmost truth whether or not the innocent is in the closet. If you say yes, do not answer, or anything else besides a clear "no", they'll check the closet then kill the innocent person. If you say no, they'll just leave and never find the person they want to kill.
What do you say?
9484153 Um ... okay ... based on the specifics you gave (I know the person in the closet is innocent, the murder has only just now asked me for an oath, and I know that if I say "No" the murder will just leave, causing no harm to me or the innocent), I'd say ... I lie like a dog.
9509604
Mors is a fairly new character, though I’d suggest keeping an eye on Golden Path.
9510079
Thank you :3
Figured as much with Golden Path, seeing as how they figure prominently in the newest story.
9453674
Freeport’s got a tropical climate. Heat and humidity usually makes dead organic material break down very quickly.
9649229
Which, I assume, necessitates a steady influx of new slaves/future thralls?
9666260
Indeed.
Interesting story. So much potential to tell Freeports past. Look forward to a future set of updates though considering how long past the last one was...
9762953
I’ve got several chapters in the pipeline, but they probably won’t come out until November since I’m gearing up for the big Halloween story first.
9768104
Too bad. But I can look forward to updates a bit.
Reminds me of a story about Julius Ceasar I read a couple years ago.