Chapter 8: Fortune Favors the Blades
“Escort duty,” Powder Keg snorted, stuffing a bite of fish into his beak. “They pull us from our patrol route, make us come all this way, and stick us on escort duty. What a joke.”
I could understand him being upset. Of the five ships that got pulled from Mount Aris, only Derelict and Summation got put on the hunt mission. The remaining three were assigned to a less glamorous job: protecting merchant vessels by sailing along with them on their routes. I had hoped for the cool job as much as the next griff, but now that two days had passed, I was over any misgivings I had about the assignment.
The gunner, on the other hand, still hadn’t shut up about it. I just nodded my head along to his complaint and ate my pasta. I didn’t have the energy to tell him to can it, but somegriff else at the next table over sure did.
“If I have to hear you complain one more time, I’m hogtying you and throwing you overboard,” said Moraine, cupping her head in her hands.
“I could stand to go for a swim,” Powder Keg said with a smirk.
“Good luck getting back on board with wet wings,” Moraine muttered, turning away from us.
After that, Powder Keg was silent. I didn’t like Moraine, but she wasn’t all bad all the time.
The rest of the meal passed in dull silence, and while most everyone else was retiring below decks for the evening, I went topside and took a quick walk to inspect the deck as I started my night shift. Everything was in order, so I climbed the ladder to the bridge.
“Captain Virga,” I said, closing the door behind myself. “Didn’t expect to see you here, ma’am.”
“Finished with your rounds?” asked the captain. She was sitting at the navigator’s desk, eyes transfixed by a glowing crystal sitting on the tabletop.
“Yes, ma’am, everything’s in order. Something wrong with the cube?”
“Yeah,” said the Captain. “It turned red about an hour ago and locked itself up tighter than a Saddle Arabian whorehouse. I’ve been fiddling with it but I can’t get it to do anything.”
I crossed the bridge and joined her in gazing dumbfounded at the bright red crystal. These were a fairly new addition to navy ships, allowing instant communication with headquarters through a magic channel. At least that was the theory. Apparently the enchanters who made them weren’t the best at their jobs. The cubes were notoriously unreliable, often to the point that we operated without instant communications, like the old days.
“You think you can figure it out while you’re on watch?” asked the captain.
“Sure,” I said with a shrug. I’d become fairly proficient at fixing the cube when it went down. “Do you have the instruction book?”
A heavy book as thick as my arm slapped down on the table. “Go crazy,” said Captain Virga, rising from her seat. “I hope you can figure it out. I can’t hardly see what I’m doing with that thing.”
I nodded. “I’ll see what I can do.”
The captain nodded back at me and made for the door. “Have a good watch, Lieutenant.”
The first order of business for an overnight watch was caffeine. My sleep schedule had finally stabilized after my escapade in Aeolia, but I would still need plenty of tea to make it through the night. I offered to make some for Hyperia, the helmsgriff on duty, but she declined. I started up the small stove in the corner of the bridge and set a kettle of water on for tea.
While the water heated, I went back to the communications cube and picked it up. The block of crystal hummed faintly with enchantments, the slight buzz of the energy from it radiating through my talons. I consulted the manual and found the section on troubleshooting, which told me to hold my claws at two very specific points on its surface.
A question popped up. Reset? I did that, and the light faded from the cube, turning it into a simple chunk of dead, transparent rock. That lasted a few seconds, and then it came back to life. The enchanted hum returned, lighting it up.
The typical prompt for a passcode came up. I entered it. The side of the crystal facing me changed, covering itself in letters laid out like a typewriter. The top face glowed red, showing me a short backlog of transmissions from headquarters. I loved it when the cube problems were simple.
I wrote a quick message to headquarters confirming that we were up and running and sent it off, the device displaying a little symbol of an envelope whizzing off the edge of the crystal when I did. I then checked the backlog, first looking at the weather forecast. A cold front advancing from the south would probably overtake us around dawn, which meant to me that we could expect a stronger tailwind and rougher seas. I needed to keep an eye on the sky for that front so I’d know when to change the orientation of the sails. Routine stuff.
The second message was a little more concerning. Another of the escorters, Itroscia, had been silent for twelve hours, long enough to raise alarms at headquarters. Alerts about ships going unresponsive were routine just because the cubes sucked, but the last known location caught my attention. I checked the coordinates against our own route, and sure enough, it was straight ahead of us, near an area of jagged, dangerous rocks called The Blades.
Had they run up on the rocks? It happened to Kraken’s Beak a few months ago, so that was certainly a possibility, but I hadn’t heard of any storms in that area in the last day. I trusted that our crews would be able to steer clear of The Blades in calm weather, so that didn’t sound likely.
Was it the pirates? I felt a little pit of trepidation open in my gut when I thought of that, but I dismissed it. Last I heard, the hunting crews were working on a tip that took them far away from us entirely. They were following a trail of evidence, so that meant we were probably in the clear up here—I hoped.
I shook my head. It was probably just their cube acting up. Nothing to worry about.
It took me less than ten minutes to get the communication cube up and running, just long enough for the water to boil. I steeped a bag of black tea in a metal cup and checked our course on the compass while I did so. Our heading was zero-three-two; north-northeast, exactly where we needed to be. A visual check confirmed that we were still running alongside our mate, the silhouette of the merchant ship dotted with a couple of dim red formation lights visible out the starboard windows, a few hundred yards away.
Escort duty wasn’t very different from our usual regimen of sailing around and not doing much else, only this time our route was much straighter and we had a merchant vessel always within sight of us. Mother of Pearl was the ship we were tasked with guarding for the last couple of days, and we were nearing the end of our run with them. In a day or so, we’d reach the limit of our jurisdiction and release them to their voyage up the Celestial Sea to their eventual destination at the port of Manehattan in Equestria.
I headed aloft to the poop deck, where our signal light was mounted. I aimed the light toward Mother of Pearl 's silhouette and flashed a quick status check message to them, flipping the shutters open and closed. Hopefully whoever was on watch on the merchant vessel was awake.
‘Status check,’ I flashed.
I waited a few seconds. No response.
‘Status check,’ I repeated.
A few more seconds and a little light began blinking on the merchant ship, a quick sequence of short and long flashes. ‘Normal,’ it said in signal code.
I looked down the ship. Aside from the lookout, I was the only one up here. Our lookout was pretty new, a hippogriff named Blue Note, despite the fact that his coat was purple. Bluesy was cool, so I knew I could get away with being slightly unprofessional.
‘Good business, little bro, just checking,’ I signaled.
It was a small departure from procedure—very inconsequential, but it felt nice. I was about to head back down to the bridge when I saw the light on the Mother of Pearl blinking again. ‘Big thanks, big dog,’ said the light.
I smiled. These were my people.
The rest of the night went by like any other, but this time I had a friend in whoever was on watch on the merchant ship. We spent a little bit of time relaying messages to each other, slipping little jokes in or sending our usual status checks in jargon.
Around daybreak, the jokes ceased. The last message I got from them was: ‘Watch change. Peace.’ And then it was back to business as usual, the status check responses turning back into ‘Normal.’ Just like normal.
I was getting tired around then, and it wouldn’t be long before I could go below decks and sleep. I didn’t feel as tired as I usually did around this time of the morning. Maybe having something to occupy the mind was all I needed to make it through.
Moraine was the first relief crew member to show up. She caught me right in the middle of a yawn when she opened the door. “Morning,” I greeted her through the end of the yawn.
“Good morning,” she returned curtly. “Anything break?”
“Just the cube. I fixed it though.”
Moraine rolled her eyes. “If it goes down again today, I’m giving it a float test.”
“I’ll hold you to that,” I said, rising from the navigation desk with a stretch. My eyes burned, and I was ready to go knock out for a while.
“Hold it, Swirl.” Moraine stopped me just short of the door. I turned around to see her peering out the starboard window. “I think I saw something while I was walking in. Bring me the glass.”
You could have just as easily gotten it yourself, I grumbled silently. She snatched the glass out of my claws and leveled it, leaning forward.
“Take a look. Two o’clock, on the horizon.” Moraine passed me the spyglass, and I followed her directions, scanning for anything besides empty water.
Smoke. A faint plume of it way out in the distance, barely visible. How Moraine had spotted it without a telescope, I had no idea, but there it was. Immediately, my heart skipped a beat. The missing ship.
“We need to investigate that,” I said. “Headquarters reported a missing ship in this area earlier.”
“And you didn’t tell me that immediately, why?”
“We get several of those a week. It’s always the cubes. I didn’t think it was important.”
Moraine groaned and wiped at her forehead. “Whatever. Signal the merchants. Tell them to drop behind us and follow close.” she said, crossing to the wheel.
I nodded and left the bridge, hopping up one level to the poop deck and the lantern. Mother of Pearl copied the message on the first send, and I nodded to myself. A gust of wind blew across the deck, drawing my attention toward the sky. A long, gray arc of clouds was approaching behind us from the south. The cold front.
Timing was never the weather’s strong suit. Still, rain or shine, we had a job to do. A few sailors had come to the deck to do morning chores, and I yelled to them. “Battle stations!” Since Moraine was taking charge in the wheelhouse, I headed below decks to alert the captain and rouse the rest of the crew.
I spent the next hour on standby at the signal beacon, keeping Mother of Pearl up to speed on what we were doing. My suspicions from last night confirmed themselves as we slowly closed the distance toward the mysterious plume. The horizon morphed from a flat line to a serrated saw—The Blades. Anticipating the approaching wind shift, we took the sails in as we approached the rocks. The last thing we needed was to get blown into the rocks and flay the hull.
We were on motorized drive going forward. The steam engine on board didn’t get but occasional use, so we had to start it from cold. The ship slowed to a halt for a few minutes while the small boiler built a head of steam. Slowly but surely, the water below the stern began to churn and froth. A plume of coal smoke began puffing out of a tall, skinny smokestack near the stern, and the Eidothea eased forward.
We were close to the outer reaches of The Blades when Moraine stuck her head up from the bridge. “Tell the merchants we’re stopping and then come down to the bridge.”
Once both ships were brought to a halt, I headed down one deck and found a bustling scene on the bridge. Captain Virga had taken over as the helmsgriff, and Moraine was on the navigator’s desk, busying herself with drawing out routes on a map.
“First Mate, I need you to get a flight team together,” said the captain. “We can’t lead the merchants through the rocks, and we can’t leave them alone either. Send scouts to see what the fire is, and then we’ll reassess. Dismissed.”
I saluted the captain and left the bridge, immediately starting on my task as I descended the ladder to the main deck. “Alright, listen up!” I shouted, earning the attention of the dozen or so crew standing outside. “I need five volunteers to go fly out and see what the smoke is. Show of hands, who wants to go?”
It was nearly unanimous, all but a couple of the griffs raising a hand to the sky. I felt a little swell of pride while I chose five at random from the crowd. “You, you, you, you, and you. Take weapons just in case. Talk to the gunner about getting swords. I want you in the air in three minutes!”
The air team saluted and hustled down to the gun deck to meet with Powder Keg. I returned to the bridge, this time armed with a question of my own.
“Flight team will be out in three minutes, Captain,” I announced as I entered, shutting the door behind me. “Should we start building an action plan now?”
Captain Virga nodded and stepped out from behind the wheel, taking her bicorne off and revealing a short crop of crimson hair that stood at attention in the absence of a hat. She was the tallest of the three of us, having a slight height advantage over me. She placed her hat on the navigator’s desk carefully, distracting Moraine from her chart work. “The way I see it, we have three possible outcomes. The first and most likely is that the smoke is just some grass or a bonfire somewhere, and we can go on as we were.
“If there is a ship in distress on the other side of the rocks, we have a very big problem holding off the stern. We’re much less flexible if we’re dragging a big, clunky cargo ship with us wherever we go. Are there any passages they could fit through nearby, Moraine?”
The second mate shook her head. “None within thirty miles.”
“Keep working on that. Check it again,” said Captain Virga. “But in that case, we will have to make a choice based on urgency. We can either mark their location with the cube and leave it for someone else, or we can go up thirty miles to find a way through The Blades.”
Outside the windows, the flight team sprinted across the deck and hurtled over the side, soaring into the air in formation. Based on how close the smoke plume looked now, it would only take them a few minutes to return with intel. It couldn’t have been more than a mile or two away, a jet-black column of smoke rising into the air. It almost looked like a volcanic eruption I saw when we were sailing past the Dragon Lands a few months back, though the color was darker. Whatever was happening over there didn’t look like a natural fire.
“What if it’s urgent?” I asked. “Like, life and death if we don’t get there asap?”
The bridge went silent as Captain Virga and Moraine mulled over my question. After a few moments, Moraine spoke up. “Our orders are to stay with the merchants.”
“But look at that smoke plume!” I argued, pointing out the starboard window. “That’s way more smoke than any bonfire I’ve ever seen. If I were to guess, someone’s in big trouble over there. Are we just going to leave them hanging?”
“And risk leaving them to get attacked?” Moraine countered. “If anything happens to Mother of Pearl while we leave it alone, we can expect dishonorable discharges all around. Maybe even a court-martial. I say we stick to our orders. The merchants stay with us no matter what.”
I felt my hackles raise. "Even if it gets someone else killed."
Moraine scoffed. "Our orders are clear."
“Our mission is to protect creatures from all threats. Does that not extend to whoever is burning out there in the middle of The Blades?”
“And what?” Moraine asked. “You advocate leaving the ship right behind us to the wolves to go chasing after a lost cause?”
A vein popped in my forehead. “Coward,” I snarled.
Before Moraine could jump out of her seat to escalate, the captain intervened, stepping between us. “Both of you will stand down, now. The last damn thing I need right now is my lieutenants fighting over nothing!” Captain Virga marched to the stern end of the bridge, taking her place at the helm. “The decision is mine to make and mine alone. Typhoon, go take a lap and make sure the crew is prepared for any eventuality. Go.”
I left the bridge and only remembered to breathe once I had gotten to the bottom of the ladder. If I wasn’t sure before, I was now. As soon as we returned to port, I was putting in for a transfer even if it dropped me back to being a regular sailor. As much as I loved this ship and my crew, I couldn’t take any more of Moraine. The sooner I got away from that insufferable hag, the better.
A hippogriff screech caught my attention off the starboard side, and I watched with anticipation as the scout flight returned to Eidothea. They landed midship, just in front of me.
“What’d you find?” I asked.
The leader of the flight, Hydro, removed his goggles. “It’s a shipwreck, sir. Looks like one of ours. There’s a big oil slick on fire and a bunch of hippogriffs in the water.”
I blinked. “Wait, hippogriffs?”
Hydro nodded. “That's what we saw.”
“Good work,” I said, giving Hydro a fist bump. “You can go back to your usual posts for now.”
That was… huh. Hippogriffs didn’t just go overboard. Our shards gave us the ability to transform into seaponies, so why were the sunken ship’s crew not using them?
It was a question better speculated with more heads. I rushed back to the bridge, deciding to put the quarrel with Moraine on hold for now. “Captain!” I announced. “Flight just got back. It’s Itroscia. She’s sunk and her crew is in the water.”
“Sounds like they’re in for a long swim,” said Captain Virga. She didn’t seem worried, for the obvious reason. “Moraine, message headquarters and mark the location for—”
“They’re not seaponies,” I interrupted. “Hippogriffs are in the water.”
“What?” The captain rushed out from behind the wheel. “They didn’t transform?”
“The flight leader said they were all hippogriffs,” I confirmed.
Captain Virga took a second to mull it over and started pacing the length of the bridge. “What kind of defense measures does Mother of Pearl have on board, again?” she asked.
“Eight cannons, not a lot. Maybe enough to fend off a small attack,” said Moraine.
“Dammit,” the captain spat. “Give me a moment.” She went silent and continued pacing, her face tight with concentration. She stole occasional glances out the window at the smoke plume.
Moraine and I sat and stood in our respective places in awkward limbo, waiting on an answer from the captain. Seconds ticked by, and I grew more and more antsy with every passing moment. My mind flicked to the crew on the other side of the rocks, treading water in bodies not built for swimming. Right now, seconds were precious. A couple of minutes passed before I couldn’t take any more and blurted out, “We need an answer, Captain.”
She stopped in place and wheeled on me. “Well, I have one. We’re going with your play, Typhoon. Signal the merchants, tell them to ready their cannons and hunker down until we return. Navigator, find me the shortest route through The Blades.”
Moraine didn’t have an objection, to my surprise. She went to work on the charts without a word, and I did likewise, heading up to the lantern to send a message to Mother of Pearl.
‘Emergency. Ship sunk. Crew in jeopardy. Attempting rescue. Ready defenses. Hunker down until return.’ I signaled.
‘Good copy, good luck,’ came the reply, delayed by a few seconds.
The steam engines chuffed back to life, and Eidothea slowly eased forward. I was slightly nervous now for more than one reason. The cold front was approaching closer, jagged clouds on the leading edge spanning the whole horizon like the jaws of a monster the size of the world, ready to clamp down on us. Navigating a dangerously narrow channel with strong winds approaching was a fast recipe for getting blown into the rocks and sunk. Or ambushed.
I pushed the thought out of my mind. The hunting ships were nowhere near, so the likelihood of us getting attacked was remote. It was probably just a navigational mishap like with Kraken’s Beak. Everything was fine.
But that didn’t explain why the crew didn’t transform.
I hopped down from the signal light and took note of the chatter among the sailors. The information was spreading, so I needed to get a head start. “Everygriff, listen up! We’re going into search and rescue mode as soon as we’re through the rocks. All griffs not helping us navigate, go below decks and ready the medical supplies! Get side netting ready and bring every life jacket we have to the main deck. Let’s go!”
While the rest of the crew scrambled to follow orders, I followed them below deck. I desperately hoped that this wouldn’t be necessary, but everything about what we were heading into seemed wrong. If we were going in, we needed to be ready on all fronts.
The gun deck was a cramped, musty space that smelled strongly of sulfur, the ceiling barely tall enough to stand at full height. Given the largely peaceful nature of the seas in the couple of years since Eidothea was launched, the gun deck was ironically the quietest of the three lower decks, often doubling as lounge space. I silently hoped that wouldn’t change today.
“Powder Keg!” I called.
“Yeah?” he answered from near the bow. He popped his head up from behind a cannon and stood, making his way toward midship where I stood, craning his neck down a bit to clear the support beams in the ceiling. “I don’t get visits from you all that much. What’s all this I’m hearing about a shipwreck?”
“Itroscia is sunk in The Blades. We’re attempting search and rescue.”
“The Blades?” he asked. He reached through one of the gun ports and propped open its cover, revealing a view of a large rock wall passing the edge of the ship. We were in the strait now. “Well shit. I have a buddy on that ship,” said Powder Keg. “Is the crew alright?”
“We hope so. Just in case things go south, we need the cannons ready.”
Powder Keg grinned. “I thought you’d never ask.” He let out a screech to get the attention of the rest of the gun deck crew, who were lounging about the space. “Get up, you lazy sacks! It’s showtime. Load the cannons and roll ’em out!”
“I don’t think we’ll need them,” I said. “Better safe than sorry, I guess.”
Powder Keg cackled. “Now where’s the fun in that?”
I chose not to respond to that. “Just be ready for firing orders if they come.”
“Can do!” I left the gun deck as Powder Keg launched into a series of joy-filled commands to his subordinates. I wished I could be happy for him to get a chance to use his cannons for something other than practice.
I returned to the main deck as we completed a hairpin turn, avoiding a rock shaped like a gigantic ace of spades. I could see ahead of us the rocks gave way again to open water, though the horizon held more of the dangerous outcroppings. A wide strait in the middle of The Blades, right where the smoke plume was coming from. A perfect place for an inexperienced captain to get cocky and make a mistake. We passed the spade rock close on the port side, and finally, the source of the smoke came into view.
The ocean was on fire. A great pool of black stained the surface of the water, bright orange flames licking at the expansive smudge and giving rise to the dense, dark plume of smoke. Oil. I could see no other signs of wreckage from the distance. I flew up to the lookout’s nest for a better vantage point.
“Let me see your spyglass,” I said to him as I landed. Bluesy was watching the fire intently with his telescope, so much so that he yelped in surprise and nearly dropped it.
He eyed me for a second, plumage fluffed out and a faint redness in his cheeks. “Sure,” he said, offering it to me. I took it and focused on the water around the flames. Sure enough, there was wreckage. A widely scattered field of debris littered the water, and I could see little smudges of color around it. Some were clinging to the pieces of debris, others treading water and struggling to hold their heads above the surface.
Why were they not transforming? What happened to their shards? I rubbed mine between my claws. Was something here disrupting their magic?
Rescue teams formed from the crew members on deck. The same group of five that flew the scouting mission took to the sky to spot survivors from the air, and another eight transformed into seaponies with bright pink flashes as they jumped overboard. They would be able to start the rescue process while Eidothea lumbered the remaining half-mile at the speed of molasses.
I hopped down to the main deck. The shards were still working for us. My nerves grew a little more restless. “Steady as she goes, griffs,” I said to the crew as I walked laps around the main deck.
Finally, at that moment, the cold front overtook us. The wind shifted as the arcus cloud passed overhead, darkening the sky. A few droplets of rain mixed in with the spray it kicked up. The temperature dropped sharply, and the ship groaned as it fought the wind’s force.
We all collectively ignored it, anxiously eyeing the wreck ahead. There were still no signs of Itroscia on the surface, only random bits of splintered wood and other debris floating among the stricken crew.
“Here comes one!” Bluesy shouted, pointing down toward the front of the ship. I rushed to the bow and sure enough, an unaccompanied purple hippogriff was swimming toward us. The dive team must have missed them when going for the main group closer to the wreckage. One of the crew still onboard took initiative and dove over the railing, transforming into a seapony a split second before hitting the water.
Commotion erupted from the port side a few moments later. Sailors hoisted the first survivor and her rescuer over the edge of the ship, where she collapsed in a gasping heap on the deck.
I rushed to her side and began assessing her for wounds. She had a number of cuts and scrapes, her coat matted with blood and oil. One of her hind legs was cocked at an unnatural angle, broken above the pastern, but she was okay. Nothing immediately life-threatening.
“What’s your name?” I asked. Somegriff passed me a canteen and I offered it to her. She was dazed, her eyes taking an unnaturally long time to focus in. Once she found the water, she snatched it from my claws and drank greedily. I let her have a couple of pulls, but then took it back from her. “Easy, you’ll make yourself sick.”
The hippogriff sputtered and coughed. “Berry,” she gasped, collapsing back onto the deck. “Berry Breeze.”
“What was the name of your ship?”
“Itroscia,” Berry Breeze croaked, confirming our assumption. She was showing signs of shock, her rapid, gasping breaths shaking her entire body. Her eyes once again lost focus, staring off somewhere into the sky above us.
“Someone get some towels,” I ordered, and a crew member disappeared from the huddle around Berry. “Stay with me, you’re alright. We’re gonna take you back to land.”
No response. Her breath hitched in her throat, and tears streamed out of her eyes.
“Hey hey hey, everygriff back up, give her some air.” I shooed the crowd back. “We’ve got a lot more survivors coming, I want you all ready to help them aboard.” Slowly, they dispersed.
“I’m here!” announced a voice from above the commotion. I breathed a sigh of relief as a pale pink hippogriff on the shorter side parted her way through the crowd—Lieutenant Cardia, Eidothea’s medical officer. Our rescued griff was in good hands. “I’m here. You’re safe. Take deep breaths and count to one hundred,” said Cardia to Berry.
I took a step back to let the good doctor work. “Alright, back to your posts!” I shouted. “We’re about to have a lot more coming aboard!” The sailors did as they were ordered, and the journey toward the wreckage continued. I pulled out my spyglass to keep searching for survivors, but just as I did, I felt another particularly cold rush of wind from behind and looked toward the stern.
A fog bank was bearing down on us, and it was then that my nervousness began transitioning into fear. As the mist rushed over The Blades and overtook us, I silently cursed the weather. It was now going to be harder to rescue the sailors and even harder to make our way out of here safely. The mist rolled overhead and obscured the field of survivors, the fire on the sea surface lighting the fog with a sickly orange glow.
A field of survivors. Hippogriffs in the water. It still made no sense that they weren’t transformed. I looked over my shoulder at Berry Breeze, noting that her shard was missing. That would explain why she was still a hippogriff, but the rest of Itroscia’s crew? I could buy that she lost hers during the sinking, but surely there would be at least one of them somewhere that they could have passed around to save themselves. A wave of unease reverberated through my gut. Something was up, and I needed to get to the bottom of it. I crossed the deck and returned to the survivor. Cardia had made quick work of her injuries, the larger cuts already bandaged while she finished the process of stabilizing Berry Breeze’s hind leg.
“How’s she doing?” I asked.
“She’s had a rough go of it. Looks like she’s going through some mild shock. Broken leg, lacerations, a couple of burns,” said Cardia. She bit off the bandage and finished wrapping the broken limb as tightly as she could manage. “I’m going to need help carrying her down below.”
I shook my head. “You stay up here. There’s a lot more coming aboard. I’ll get her moved.” Cardia nodded, steely resignation in her eyes, and continued with her work.
I turned my attention to Berry Breeze. Her breaths were shallow and rapid, but she had stabilized a bit, and she no longer had the thousand-yard stare. She needed to recover, but the need for answers carried equal weight. “Hey Berry, do you feel like you can talk to me?” I asked.
She hesitated, but locked her eyes on me and nodded.
“Good. What happened to your shard?”
Berry gasped and clutched at her chest, feeling around for the necklace that wasn’t there. “They took it!” she shouted, her hysterics coming back. “They took them all!” Her breathing quickened sharply as she squirmed around.
“Ty! This isn’t the time for an interrogation,” Cardia protested.
“Whoa hey, easy. It’s okay,” I assured her, ignoring Cardia. I feared the response to my next question more than I feared her. “Who are they?”
Berry Breeze’s eyes came back into focus, and she locked with mine. “They’re going to take yours too.”
I swallowed, my mouth suddenly full of sand. “What? Who is coming to take my shard?”
Berry Breeze thrashed, her broken leg kicking Cardia in the beak as she tried to scramble herself upright. “It isn’t safe here!” Berry shouted. I grabbed her and pinned her down to the deck, struggling against her strength. She kept struggling, tears streaming down her face freely. “What are you doing? Let me go!” she screamed. “They’re going to kill us all!”
“I need help here!” I called over two other sailors, and they helped me restrain the frantic hippogriff. “Let’s get her below deck. She’s not herself.”
A rushing sound split the air open. I looked up just in time to see a cannonball smash into the mainmast, ripping through the crow’s nest. I only had time to dive out of the way myself before the splintered remains of the tip of the mast fell to the deck right where I was standing.
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Oh boy here we go
She tried to warn them. Also, how did they not suspect something was up, a sunken ship, survivors having not transformed into seaponies, the ocean was burning with oil, and the moment they arrive to help a thick fog roles in. Man, if these are the closest thing to professionals in the hippogriff navy, these pirates could just role up to Mount Aris and sink their entire fleet without breaking a sweat.
Ooh, looks like the baddies are upping the stakes now. Most likely they took the crew's shards so to ensure they were stranded, couldn't go and give advance warning to other ships or even back home, and, most likely, to ensure few to no survivors...but the thought has also occurred to me that taking specifically those magical artifacts might be for some bigger scheme too. And, of course, the doomed Itroscia was used as bait to lure in more ships, which unfortunately has worked perfectly.
It's actually made me wonder if attacking the trade ships was really ever the intended targets at all, or just done as something to lure the hippogriff naval ships out into the open...
Whatever the scheme, though, some nasty business going down here at the Blades.
In other news though, I think splitting it up into two chapters was a good call, as it better compartmentalizes the respective key scenes in both halves.
10214895
They did, but they couldn't ignore their duties of aiding their fellow sailors if possible either, and being the Good Samaritan overruled, so they took the risk anyway. It's basically a Kobayashi Maru scenario--no matter what you do, you lose out in some manner, with no true way to win.
Not sure if it was mentioned earlier, what kinda ship is this? Going off the description I would think largeish. Anything to compare it by?
10214956
Fair point. But they still should have done something to let others know that a ship was sunk and something wasn't right. I mean, they have wings right, or heck, they could transform and swim if they chose. Or perhaps they had some sort of flare type thing to alert others. For a navy, they definitely lack any sort of precautions in case something happens. It's just, a ship is attacked by pirates and that it, know one knows anything other than the ship went missing. I would at least try to find a way to make dragon fire or something like it able to be used by anyone at anytime, or maybe have some sort of flare or emergency signal.
10214895
It reads like they're greenhorns. IE not really faced a real foe before. In that situation, you get a lot of disbelief until you've got enough veterans around to disabase any notions that "____ couldn't happen here." So they're decent with protocol but lacking in a lot of the instinct that comes with real life-or-death. They pointed out earlier they've never had a pirate scuttling ships before, just stealing cargo at most.
Even with proper protocol for something like that, most everyone will be slow to react, and won't know how to read early signs.
10215127
I didn't think of it like that, you have made a good point.
I'm not surprised that the crews are shocked at the pirates wantonly sinking ships. It's not something pirates do and without some kind of magical means to prevent it a normal pirate crew (from our historical perspective) would have mutinied or left the ship.
The Hippogryph navy seems extremely naïve, inexperienced or both. They should have arranged merchant vessels into large convoys with multiple escorts. That being said, if the merchant sinkings were reported in a different direction further than a ship could reasonably be expected to travel and having little idea of the pirate's true strength they could be forgiven here.
That exemption aside, the "devil may care" attitude towards their radios is a catastrophe waiting to happen. There should be an officer who's chief responsibility is its' upkeep and letting hours pass without attempting to fix it is indicative of very bad practice.
Similarly, they should have been keeping the Naval HQ up to date with emerging events. Especially when the CAP reported on the fate of Itroscia
I'm going to assume that by the time the pirates attacked that warship they already had a substantial number of swimming creatures capable of underwater combat otherwise they would have all escaped fairly easily.
If this pirate hasn't got something extremely esoteric working in his favour then this particular campaign is going to go down as another bleak point in the Hippogryph navy soon after the last one.
I'm also a little surprised that they don't use their abilities to fly and swim as a much more integrated part of their combat doctrine, especially given the world's apparent technology level. They could easily adopt a strategy of engaging the enemy beyond the horizon with a series of scouts with optics flying above the ship or ranging patrols. Then fly out teams armed with limpet mines who will drop into the water beyond the range of the ship's defences then mine the enemy vessel. It would be extremely difficult to defend against, especially while underway and given the time period most ships would be travelling very slowly through the water. That's discounting simply bombing the vessel in the traditional manner. It's highly unlikely that the hippogryph armed forces would have sat entirely idle while they were in exile and it would be insane not to incorporate those strategies into conventional surface fleets.
Unless it's literally an extension of the seapony/hippogryph rivalry reaching insanely dangerous levels (which, let's face it, has happened a few times with fighting between military branches, sometimes with horrific (although depending on your perspective it might be a good thing) results *cough* Japan *cough*).
I'm intrigued how this is all going to pan out though. Could go either way for Ty, either getting killed or captured or superior training and drilling and the fact it's one of the better naval ships means they fight off the pirates but can't win decisively, ceding a disengagement and take enough of a licking that they need to return to port for repairs.
How this pans out for Gallus and Silverstream though I don't know. Before this went down it was conceivable that Gallus would be put on a ship going on a "Milk Run" and Silverstream pulling strings to come aboard as a passenger but now the situation is hotting up at sea that's extremely unlikely, so I'm guessing they're going to end up split up too.
10215013
That assumes there was anybody nearby that could help that word could get to within a reasonable amount of time to even be able to do anything to help, and it's explicitly stated in the chapter that this was not the case. Sure, they could've sent word out to someone, but because they were still so removed from everyone else, whether or not anything was done to investigate the wreck or assist would've still been up to them ultimately, as the only capable ship nearby. Waiting for anybody else to come back them up would've taken too long, by which point it'd be too late to try and save anybody and would've rendered all of this moot.
That's the thing about serving in the navy--even today, you could be so far removed from everybody else that sometimes the hard choices are all on you and only you, meaning sometimes you have to just fly by the seat of your pants and hope you make the right decision. Even with a crew who's the utmost cautious, risk is still part of the game, and there's always the danger the elements or enemies will still get the better of you no matter what you do.
In this case, I don't see what else they could've done. Sailing in to assist only dropped them into a trap, moving on in search of additional help only would've guaranteed the loss of life of any survivors, halting and sending word to other ships to decide what to do first would've only taken too long and again resulted in loss of life of any survivors--like I said before, it's a no-win scenario. Nothing they could've done would've allowed them to go in and save the survivors and escape attack from the pirates too.
Really, what the navy should've done was grouped into larger conveys of more numerous ships to a group from the start...but command underestimated the threat out here and didn't provide enough ships (though I believe recall it being established in a much earlier chapter that they only had so many ships available that they could spare at the moment), and that was partly due to the intel they were all operating on suggesting that pirating of merchant ships was the intended scheme, not direct attacks on naval ships. So in a way, something like this was probably doomed to happen to at least one of the ships from even before the mission started.
10214895
Que the song.
Damn it! I like Ty!
Why does he have to be on a rapid trajectory to horrible death?
Also, given Ty's laid back nature and his high rank, he's kinda reminiscent of some of the ace pilots in the Gundam universe.
The one that comes to mind first, is the air/space plane pilot from Gundam Seed. The one that was on the main ship along with the Gundam.
EDIT: Clearly it was a good decision for myself to reread from the beginning, since I missed the past three updates.
Oh snap!
The pirates are collecting the shard necklaces so they can mount a direct attack on Seaquestria!
Whether it's all parrot pirates, or also remnants of the Storm King's military that are still loyal to the Storm King, is yet to be seen.
I am with some of those who commented before: That nobody seems to consider the obvious—that it's a trap—does not speak well of the Hippogriff navy.
10215480
You are correct, of course. There wasn't much of a better choice to be had. Maybe expecting a trap would help them in the upcoming battle? I can't predict yet, but my gut feeling is that it would. There's a lot more 'it's probably nothing' going on aboard the ship than is comfortable.
10215383
Good observations. Sinking merchant ships outright leads to less merchants taking this route, leading to opportunities drying up, nevermind the increasingly large target on the captain's back. Being a murderous *sshole is a wonderful way to have the whole world gunning for your head. Maybe he's moonlighting as a privateer?
Um... was
was Bluesy still IN the lookout's nest?
Am I the only one physically stressed about this?!
10216671
Oh snap. I hadn't even thought of that. Now I'M stressing out about it too.
And so the fight begins. Though it's going to be tough since the pirates have dictated the conditions of the battle.
10214895
It was clearly on everyone's mind but they couldn't abandon their comrades. It wouldn't have been much of a problem if the crew still had their shards.
10214951
There isn't much point in destroying loot unless there's an underlying reason.
10215480
I guess the only thing that could make this worse is if the hunter ships get the call to reinforce and end up getting ambushed as well. The Blades is the perfect death trap and the entire task force (not to mention the best) might get gutted with a few well-placed strokes. I can start to see how desperation might force the rest of the navy to intervene.
10215870
The pirates played the hippogriffs like a fiddle. But they never had to face a griffon before.
Unless it's an absolutely vital trade route, I'm assuming they'll just move their hunting grounds to wherever the merchants move theirs. I can't imagine what power would be backing the pirates if they're privateers.
10216883
Yes, the pirates (if that is really all they are) chose the site of their attack well, further compounded by planning their trap well. I'm becoming increasingly convinced the initial attack on merchant ships was just a ploy to draw out the naval ships for a much bigger scheme.
10216899
10216883
Did the crew of the Itroscia know the Mother of Pearl was nearby? Because this plan requires the ambushers to have a very good idea of the overall timeframe. Leaving captives out on open water, hoping they draw other ships only works if this other ship arrives before they all drowned. Even if they had unseen scouts in position, it looks like the pirates had ample time to prepare, more than if they just caught wind of the Mother closeby.
That, or they didn't care at all and gambled that another ship would come along. However, like Scyphi, I'm not convinced they're just pirates anymore. This looks more like an attempt to draw out and destroy the Hippogriff navy piecemeal.
And you have a point too, minibox, I wouldn't know yet either who'd set privateers on the Hippogriffs. Still, it feels more like the opening moves in a war than mere plundering to me.
First time meeting Ty: this guy seems cool, hope he doesn’t take away from the Gallus and Silverstream though.
End of this chapter: IF TY DIES NEXT CHAPTER I’M GUNNA HAVE TO SLAP A BITCH
Jack, you can't just leave us hanging here. The villains are literal pearl-clutchers and you're just gonna leave us with this until the next update?
The rise and shine revolution is upon us. Come alive dear friends. Come alive.
Original Character Tag please.
So these are steamships with sails. Still doesn't explain the use of "bridge" before, as they seem to still have old 1800s hull design, which didn't include any sort of bridge as a command point. The use of screw-type propellers is interesting, the overlap between the age of sail and screw type propellers is not something written about very often.
However, the existence of an oil slick spilling from the foundering ship is very, very odd. It implies the ship was carrying oil fuel rather than coal... which would place it more alongside the vessels of the Great War or Second World War.
Yet we still use sails, smoothbore cannons, and broadside-aligned cannons? With oil-powered engines and screws, you'd probably see the death of sails and rigging, especially aboard warships, which have enough to gain from sailing in defiance from the wind to convert completely to powered engines, especially at such an age of liquid fuel.