Sailor Equine Transfer Protocol
Tradition said drinking saltwater killed your kidneys. Science said drinking saltwater only killed your kidneys when they were close to shutting down from malnutrition already, so you could drink a little bit of it just fine as long as you supplemented it with a decent amount of freshwater. The desalinization spells on his filters were still working well, so Headsail had plenty of freshwater, but paranoia made him wonder if that would ever be relevant. Castaways couldn’t get picky, so he treasured the freshwater he had currently had in his cup.
Wiping his mouth down, Headsail muttered, “Evening six. Tired, hungry, still alive. Healthy, as far as I can tell. Hot, but not burned, thanks to the shelter. No sores.” He squinted across the horizon. The setting sun failed to illuminate any silhouettes of ships. “No signs of life yet.” There was still a chance he’d get lucky and drift into the Equestrian-Zebrabwean trade routes, but he couldn’t count on it.
Of all the times for a storm to hit, it’d had to be the one time he was going out alone. If Genoa Jib had been with him, she could’ve turned the worst of the storm away, with those big wings of hers. But no. The Ocean Cirrus had caught the full brunt of it and capsized, leaving him drifting in a life raft. Him, a plain earth pony, with no flight and no magic usable at sea, stranded leagues away from anything. He hoped he was still moving west, towards Equestria.
He sighed and collapsed against the side of the raft. “Fish is still disgusting, but it’s food. Unfortunately, I didn’t catch much today.” His stomach gurgled, but not painfully. He dug a dead fish from one of his bags and set to work on pulling the flesh from the bones. Sweet Twilight, the bones alone were inconvenient enough to put one off meat.
One deboning and a few quick bites later, Headsail’s gut had settled down. But in that time, the sun had managed to slip down far enough to only barely peek above the horizon. Evenings were funny like that. One last look around revealed a riveting amount of no ships. Great.
With darkness creeping in, Headsail yawned. Being stuck in a raft did a number on your day-to-day life, one of those changes being his circadian rhythm getting downright authoritarian. No longer could he force himself to stay awake; once his body decided it was bedtime, you’d best believe it was bedtime. He wanted to stay up, to look for boat lights in the dark, but for some reason, survival skills like that had been deemed low on his list of priorities by his biological systems.
And so it was with great reluctance that Headsail laid down and curled up into a little ball. Lulled by the rocking of the raft, he let himself drift off, grimly determined to face another grueling day alone tomorrow.
“Holy cannoli, you’re in a tight spot.”
Headsail blinked and immediately knew he was dreaming from the way he didn’t ache. He was lying on his back on a beach, warm water lapping at his rear hooves, birds wheeling in the sky above. And a certain starbodied princess dressed as a butler standing above him, holding a silver platter stacked high with hay.
“I mean, it could be worse, but it definitely could be better, right?” Moondog asked with a shrug. “Good thing I came along.”
“Good thing,” Headsail said flatly. “It’s not like you’re just a dream and anything can happen in here.” Because of course his mind would call up a princess at his beck and call to raise his spirits — the Princess of Dreams, even, for “realism”. Hypothetically, it really could’ve actually been her, but with that sort of luck, he never would’ve capsized in the first place, much less gone through everything else. (And after six days adrift, he wasn’t totally thinking straight.)
“What?” Not-Moondog tilted her head; the tray wobbled a little. “No, you’re not dreaming about me. Well, okay, I guess you are, technically- I’m the real McColt, not a projection from your head.”
“Uh-huh.” Headsail lay back and closed his eyes. “Sure. This isn’t just some fantasy my head’s called up to make me feel a little better.”
“…I mean, it’s not! Holy crow, how did Mom get around this?”
Headsail ignored her. There wasn’t any point in listening to his head. He wiggled his body into the sand, enjoying the warm-but-not-hot feeling of it on his body. Being castaway meant a world of extremes, where-
“Alright.” not-Moondog tapped Headsail on the chest. “Pretend I’m the real deal. Which do you want: me to just drop you off at a city like Baltimare or Manehattan or somewhere, or to wave a ship over to pick you up? Or I… guess I could send you home.” Under her breath, she added, “More friggin’ time in reality, though…”
“Hmm?”
“To save you! I can’t just leave you out here, it’s- How do you want to be saved?”
For a moment, Headsail actually entertained the idea, as if that would make it any more probable. Then he decided to not get his hopes up. “Ship,” he grunted. “Equestria-bound ship.”
For a mental projection, not-Moondog sure looked skeptical. “You’re sure?” she asked.
“Pos-i-tive,” Headsail enunciated. “I have my reasons.” He closed his eyes and laid his head back. “Now scram, voice in my head, unless you’re going to give me a piña colada.”
No response, but he suddenly felt something cold on his belly. He looked; a glass filled with something that certainly looked like a piña colada was resting there, along with a note: Why not both? He grabbed it and took a sip. Mmm. Good piña colada. He probably should’ve expected it, with his subconscious suddenly being so willing to please.
Now if only it’d shut up and let him sleep.
She loved being helmsmare in general, but Vhiri Rengarava particularly loved taking first watch. Rather than the hustle and bustle of the day, most sailors who weren’t on watch were asleep and the entire ship was calm. Tonight, the sea was calm as well, a veritable mirror of the sky. And what a sky it was; there were no clouds, and all the stars and more were painted across the dome above her by the brushwork of a true master. It reminded her of nights on the Serembarti, where everything was so soothing, so tranquil. It was the middle of the night, but by her ancestors, Vhiri wouldn’t trade it for anything.
Even better, working on a pony ship like the Log Flume had at least one major advantage over working on a zebra ship: the weather. Zebra ships had to keep their noisy, noisy engines running if the wind wasn’t cooperating. Assuming they had pegasi (which any self-respecting pony crew did), a pony ship could preserve the quiet by making the wind cooperate — and without any risk of a storm, to boot. The wind had been still a few hours ago, so Captain Ponente had simply sent a few pegasi out to fill the sails with some light gusts rather than firing up the engines.
The boat was calm, the world was quiet, and she had an unobstructed view of the sky. Bliss.
Next to her, some of the ropes creaked as a sailor hauled herself down. Earth pony Running Rigging was looking up at the sky but moving with such assurance that the swaying netting might as well have been a sidewalk. “The Hyyyydra’s aaaat its zeeeeniiiith,” she singsonged.
“It is not. It is just past it.” Vhiri’s Ponish was still heavily accented, but until the sun came up, it was still a Ponish Day on the ship, so she was speaking Ponish, as was the rest of the ship. The moment the corona peeked over the horizon at deck level, it would be a Zebran Day, and the entire crew would be speaking Zebran. As pony-zebra trade increased and the amount of zebras on the Flume had grown, Ponente had decreed these language days to increase bilingualism, and it was working splendidly. In the first days, she felt a lot less self-aware about tripping over Ponish grammar when she just needed to wait a day and giggle at ponies tripping over Zebran grammar.
“Okay, it’s not at zenith zenith,” said Rigging. “But it’s to the south, not the west.” She looked down at Vhiri, grinning. “We’re not yet in Equestrian waters.”
“Yes, we are,” Vhiri said firmly. She was quite sure of that. “It is past its zenith to the south. It is also past its zenith to the west, but much less.”
“Oh, come on. Admit it! We’re not in Equestrian waters yet! The ship isn’t as fast as you say it is!” With an acrobatic carelessness normally associated with pegasi, Rigging hung herself upside down from the ropes to get right in Vhiri’s face. “You owe me a hundred bits.”
Vhiri moved herself so the two of them were eye-to-eye, her muzzle directly underneath Rigging’s, and smiled right back. “And what will our captain say when I tell her your opinion of her operation of her dominion?”
“She’ll say nothing, because if you tell her that, I’ll tell her how her favorite jacket wound up in the bilge.”
The two of them paused, then dissolved into little giggles. Rigging recovered first, swinging herself back upright. “Got some last few tasks,” she said, “then I can borrow a sextant and solidify my profit.” She threw Vhiri a mock salute and climbed back up.
Vhiri returned the salute. She was very sure the Hydra was past its zenith. And if it wasn’t, well, a hundred bits wasn’t much. A bet like that was a fun way to waste a day as she waited for nightfall.
And what a night it was. Vhiri looked out at the sky, at the stars, at the constellations, at the-
The sky was looking back.
Vhiri quietly yelped and stumbled backward, collapsing onto the deck. Strange glowing lines had appeared in the sky, like the stars themselves had gathered in tight clusters. Those lines traced out an equine shape with horns and wings, like one of the ponies’ princesses. Eyes like the moon stared back at her and the shape was clothed in nebulae. In spite of the distant stars inside it, the alicorn (that was the term, right?) seemed to be impossibly standing on the air a few scant yards from the starboard side of the Flume. A sense of cold dread crept down Vhiri’s spine. Whatever was watching her, it was something alien, not of this world. It was probably scrutinizing her like she would a strange plant, ready to-
“Hey, yeah, excuse me,” casually said the sky, waving a… hoof?… at her. “Sorry to bother you, but would you mind picking up a castaway?”
…Well, okay, then. It couldn’t be that alien if it spoke Ponish. Right? Still, Vhiri struggled to get her mouth under control. “C-castaway?” she stammered.
“He’s not far,” said the alicorn. “About a mile-ish thataway.” Her mane pointed in a direction not far off from their current heading. “Not too much further. I bounced in and out of the dreams of like two dozen sailors trying to find the best ship and yours was the closest.”
The words entered Vhiri’s ears, but she had trouble processing them. The deck seemed to be shaking as she got to her feet, and not in the way that was usual for ships. What was that thing? She seized the most out-of-place word. “Dreams? You went… into and… out of them?”
The alicorn gave her a Look. “Well, yeah. I’m Princess of Bespoke Somnial Hallucinations, y’know. It’s my thing. Seriously, can you pick him up or not?”
Princess of What? All Vhiri could remember from Equestria was the Princesses of the Sun, of the Moon, and of Friendship. (And maybe of Love? Rigging had never been able to give her a satisfactory answer as to the Crystal Empire’s political status.) But the alicorn was looking expectantly at her, rustling her wings and flicking her tail. “Um, s-sure,” Vhiri said, nodding. “We can do that.”
“Great, thanks! Over there, remember.” The alicorn’s mane pointed again. “You should see him in the moonlight. Adios, amiga.” She saluted, then the outline simply vanished and the night sky was the night sky again.
Vhiri blinked. What? What? Just… What was that? Was she seeing things? She wasn’t stressed or malnourished or crazy or anything, so she didn’t have much of a reason to see things. Was that pony magic? It didn’t look like any pony magic she’d seen. (She hadn’t seen a lot of pony magic, admittedly, but still.) Or… Equestria had semi-ethereal magical creatures, right? She’d heard something about “windigos”, creatures of hostility and the wind. Maybe this… not-alicorn was of a similar kind to them? Or…
Vhiri nearly sleepwalked back to the wheel as her mind attempted to work. But what she’d seen was just so strange that her thoughts kept stalling out and she got caught in loops, minute after minute. She thought about changing direction just in case, but the memory of the heading got muscled out by the overall weirdness; she quickly forgot which direction to go, shortly followed by the request to pick up the castaway in the first place. She barely even paid attention to the sea as time wore on, she was so caught up in her-
“You didn’t change direction.”
Vhiri managed to not yelp at the disembodied voice, but it was close, and her hind legs still gave out in shock. Right before she could recover, space distorted right above the wheel and a familiar glowing outline began tracing itself in the air like it was being drawn out.
“I mean, I can understand if you didn’t want to change direction,” the alicorn said as she was sketched into existence, balancing right on top of the ship’s wheel like some disapproving vulture. “But you said you would, and then you didn’t. I was just checking up on the guy and you’re nowhere near him and it’s been like five minutes!” Realization seemed to strike her and her ears twitched. How could something that looked like that share so much body language with zebras and ponies? “Or, wait, you do know that saying ‘no’ was an option, right? You didn’t need to say ‘yes’ just because I’m a princess. This is a polite request, not a royal proclamation. Seriously, can you pick up a castaway?”
“W-well, I… we can-”
“Then why didn’t you turn? You use this thingamabob, remember.” The alicorn tapped the wheel with her tail.
“It’s… I was…” Vhiri managed to stand up. The words came tumbling out of her mouth without much thought. Some small part of her was impressed by her grasp of Ponish; the rest of her screamed at that part to try to comprehend just what in Uhlanga was going on. “I was… struck by… your… appearance and… and your… words because… I… don’t think I… know you.” I don’t think I know you? As if she could ever forget something like that. But when you needed to cover your tail, you needed to cover your tail.
“You don’t?” The alicorn flowed onto the deck so she was at the same level as Vhiri. For someone so surreal, she was kinda short. “Huh. I thought every- one…”
Her voice trailed off, and suddenly she was squinting at Vhiri, head cocked like she’d just made some terrible mistake. Vhiri felt rooted to the spot as she was scrutinized. Eventually, the alicorn said, “You’re a zebra.”
The shift from semirandom gibberish to trite facts gave Vhiri whiplash. “Um. Yes?”
How, by all the ancestors’ manes, was it possible for the sky to look sheepish? But it did. The alicorn cringed and took a step back, her ears drooping. “Um, wow, I am so sorry,” she said, her voice a little quieter with each word. “I, I just thought… I assumed you… knew about… I mean, most of the… crew was ponies and… It was dark and… I couldn’t make out… I, I’ll be right back.” Boop. Gone.
“…So should I change direction or not?” mumbled Vhiri. Not that it mattered; she still didn’t have the heading.
The portside ropes creaked as Rigging swung herself down. “Everything alright down here, Vhiri? I keep hearing voices. At first I thought they were some other sailor, but I couldn’t recognize them.”
Vhiri continued staring at where the alicorn had been. She’d sound insane if she told the truth. A chatty pony made of the sky that told her where to find a castaway? Please. Except, wait, honesty was one of the ponies’ sacred values, right? Might as well be honest, then. “Your princesses. They are called alicorns, correct? And they have both wings and a horn.”
“Uh-huh. Earth pony magic, too, don’t forget that. Why does everyone always forget that?”
“I just saw one.”
One of Rigging’s ears went down. “…Pardon?”
Vhiri looked Rigging in the eye. “I saw an alicorn, Rigging. Just now. One made of the night itself, with stars in her coat and moons in her eyes. She appeared from nowhere, standing on the air off the starboard railing. And she- She said she was directing us towards a castaway, but-”
“Whoa, whoa, hold up,” Rigging said, waving her hooves. “You saw an alicorn? Here, now? On the ship? Or- next to the ship?”
“Yes,” said Vhiri.
“And she had a sparkly coat that looked like the night.”
“It was the night. She wasn’t physical. She was- some sort of spirit.”
But Vhiri could see she was losing Rigging. “And she… was directing you towards a castaway to pick up.”
“Yes.”
“And that’s who I’ve been hearing.”
“Yes.”
The two equines looked at each other. Vhiri’s face was blank, while Rigging looked like she was trying and failing to believe any one part of that. Eventually, Rigging sighed. “You need to get some rest, Vhiri.”
“No, she doesn’t,” said the suddenly-back alicorn. (Rigging yelped and nearly fell off her namesake; the alicorn’s mane quickly snaked out and caught her.) “Well, okay, maybe she does, but not because of me.”
Vhiri twitched back; she’d heard tales of ponies being able to translocate like that, but she’d always assumed (for some reason) that it’d be noisy and flashy. This alicorn was doing it so smoothly you didn’t know she’d be there until you saw her, which was a little bit of a shock to your system. This wasn’t helped by the alicorn now levitating an entire life raft next to her.
Rigging scrambled off the ropes and onto the deck, where her legs shook so badly she probably wouldn’t have been able to hold onto the ropes for long if she’d stayed up. “…Lady Moondog?” she asked quietly.
“In the aether!” The alicorn — Moondog — posed, her proportions briefly becoming downright statuesque. Vhiri couldn’t help but stare.
“I thought… I didn’t know you could…” Rigging gestured vaguely up and down as she inched backward. “I thought you couldn’t leave dreams.”
Moondog made a face. “Don’t like it, but I can. It’s funny, actually, ever since Mom and Aunt Celly retired, I’ve had to come out here more and-”
“Wait wait, hold on, Celestia and Luna abdicated?!”
“Uh, yeah, where’ve you been for the past few moons?”
“…AT SEA!”
“Oh. Um…” Moondog flicked her tail and bit her lip. “Equestria’s, uh, gonna be a different place when you’re back.”
Rigging made a sound like a squeaky toy getting eaten by each head of a chimera simultaneously. Somewhere in there, Vhiri caught, “Obviously.”
“Anyway, this…” Moondog delicately deposited the raft on the deck. “…is Headsail.” Vhiri looked inside; amid a mess of semi-organization that was the best you could manage in a life raft at sea was a lifejacketed earth pony, a bit scrawny and worse for wear but still very much alive and very much asleep. “Just drop him off when you reach Baltimare, he’ll find his own way back home. Sorry for the imposition.”
Vhiri and Rigging looked at each other. Rigging glanced up at Moondog, opened her mouth to say something, then snapped it back shut. Swallowing, Vhiri pulled up her courage and said, “S-so… just… drop him off in Baltimare?”
“Just drop him off in Baltimare,” Moondog said, nodding. “I can even comp your expenses if that’s what the captain wants.”
“Um… I don’t… We’ll see. We, we can drop him off.” Because, seriously, if they couldn’t manage that, what kind of sailors were they?
“Great. Be seeing you.” Moondog threw the two of them a salute. “Adios, amigas.” She began flickering out of sight, only to snap back into focus an instant later. “Wait. I’m a princess, I’m supposed to give positive life advice or something when I leave, right? Uh…” Flaring her wings wide, Moondog proclaimed, “Buy local! Support your school district! Don’t let the turkeys get you down! …That’s all I got!” And she was gone.
Silence would’ve reigned, except it was too baffled to do much of anything besides get broken up by the waves lapping at the Flume’s hull. Rigging turned to Vhiri, confusion masterfully painted across her face. “What the fudgesicle?”
“What the fudgesicle indeed,” mumbled Vhiri. Whatever a “fudgesicle” was. She glanced down at Headsail, still sound asleep in his raft. “What should we do with him? Right now, I mean.”
Rigging managed a few seconds of stalling by clearing her throat. “Well, uh, we can’t just leave him here, right? So, uh… we wake him up, get him down to a spare berth belowdecks and clean it all up, I guess.”
“Good.” Good enough, anyway. Vhiri didn’t know how Ponente would react, but she was pretty sure the captain hadn’t experienced anything like this before and so would cut them some slack. She bent down and lightly poked Headsail. “E-excuse me. Sir?”
A few more, sharper prods got Headsail stirring. He braced himself on the deck to stand up, and any last traces of sleep were banished when he felt hard wood rather than water. He stomped a few times, as if to test if it was real. When it proved to be so, he looked up and twitched when he saw Vhiri and Rigging.
“Um. Hello,” said Vhiri. “You were… You were, ah…” By her ancestors, how were you supposed to explain something like this?
“Moondog somehow found you adrift and dropped you off here,” said Rigging. She managed a grin and swept a hoof around the deck. “Welcome to the Log Flume.”
“Ah-hah…” said Headsail. He looked around the ship, biting his lip. “This ship is heading for Equestria, right?”
“Yes,” said Vhiri.
A long pause. Vhiri got the impression that Headsail was regretting a lot of things. “I think I owe her an apology,” he said.
“Then let’s… get you belowdecks so you can sleep and do that,” said Rigging. She helped Headsail to his hooves and nudged him towards the quarterdeck stairs. “This shouldn’t take a minute,” she said Vhiri.
At least fifteen minutes later, Rigging staggered back up to the quarterdeck, looking exhausted. “He’s just a castaway,” she moaned. “Why is everyone surprised we picked up a castaway?”
Vhiri was alternating between keeping the Flume on course and deflating Headsail’s life raft. “Is it because of Moondog?” Such a strange name.
“I don’t know,” sighed Rigging. “Maybe. I’m just… weirded out right now and I need a minute.” She groaned and slouched against the railing.
“Okay.” Vhiri pushed the last of the air from the raft’s inner tube and rolled it up to collect everything. “Should we save moving this-” She gave the raft a slap. “-for when the watch changes?”
“Yes. Let’s.”
“Should you explain this to Ponente or should I?”
“I’ll do it if you’re around to provide moral support.”
“I’ll do that.”
“Thanks.”
Silence.
“So,” said Vhiri. “A bipolar night spirit delivered to us a castaway and told me to support local businesses.” A pause. “I told you we were in Equestrian waters.”
“Yeah, yeah, I’ll pay you when we make port.”
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I prefer to make the rest of the world just as weird, or else make it Ponyville specifically.
Those last lines! Brick Joke! Wooo~!
That was great.
Fantastic. Even though I know Moondog is Princess of Dreams and prefers being in the Dream Realm, her appearances in the outside world always make me smile. And it most likely made Headsail smile, also.
You made this whole chapter for a Brick Joke, didn't you?
I was waiting for that from the moment the bet was mentioned.
That's a very good point. This not a world where news travels especially quickly. Those ripples will be spreading out for quite some time.
In any case, wonderful little tale of the unique services your friendly neighborhood Moondog can provide.
Bit weak of a chapter compared to the rest of the story, but of course still perfectly fine for reading.
Good chapter. Made me smile, and thanks for that.
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I think I first encountered that concept in Carry On, Mr. Bowditch. Yeah, it's crazy how much things can change during a months-long voyage. Imagine being at sea during a presidential election, especially the last two...
Ha!
Bipolar?
That ending about Moondog's presence meaning they're in Equestrian waters was funny. Good chapter as usual.
Less obvious
Pretty convincing evidence really
I like that the mixed species ship uses the all encompassing "everyone" here. It's a nice detail to see!
That was a good chapter goodluck with the next one.
The fact that they use moondog to prove their back in equestrian waters is just hilarious.
I know this was a shorter chapter in the grand scheme, but honestly that's fine. It's still DRIPPING with the charm and clever wordplay of its predecessors, and I'm cool with the little snippets of Moondog doing weird **** across Equestria and its neighbors
Keep up the good work amig(o/a)
Oooh, so Moondog is obliged to save lives, but what if she just can't make it? How will she react?
Also I thought something is off in this chapter: how does Moondog determine that Headsail is lost on sea? At first, what she sees is his dream. She wouldn't know what's happening to him, unless she search his memories. But wasn't that considered as privacy breach chapters ago? And Moondog was self-conscious about that? She hates real world so much, I don't think she will pop out of dreams just to check what's happening to him.
Hah. these have been an amusing past few chapters even if some of them got rather chaotic.
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Not a cipher! A hash. Base64, UTF-8 character set.
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It's considered a privacy breach "off the job" according to her, and she deletes her memories of anything personal she accidentally finds.
Ha Ha !
This is what I missed, the random Moondog adventures with no real plot, rhyme or reason. Just unfiltered random chaos that is Moondog.
(Edit) Don't get me wrong I do love the plot stories as well but these kinds of chapters are my favorite.
Very nice chapter! I enjoyed it, especially the Flume's crew reactions to Moondog's sudden appearance.
Equestria must seem insane to the rest of the planet at this point.
I guess that's one way to describe what happened in the chapter.
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And the rest of the planet is right