Forbidden Places

by Starscribe

Chapter 16: Kaelynn

Kaelynn was helpless.

Her last few weeks of life had made that an almost-daily reality. It didn't matter how long and how successfully she had fought to control her own destiny—this new world had decided to trap her in a tank.

Now she knew the battle taking place outside—Ryan had warned her of what they discovered and where they were. But while her friends fought for their lives, she was trapped in a tank.

This one was even smaller than the one she'd used to cross the desert, so small that she had to roll rather than turn completely around. It was the kind of small that would probably make her go completely insane if she waited too long. At least it had lots of extra length and depth, so she could go up and down, as well as backwards and forwards. That was a petty consolation even when her friends weren't risking their lives. Now, it did nothing to soothe her.

What if one of the pirates realizes I'm down here? They could kill me out of revenge, or take me hostage to use against the others. If that happened, she would be even more than useless, she'd be an active liability. Kaelynn was done being a liability.

She started with what little she could control, swimming over to her mask and gear where it sat near the other end of the tank. At least the water here was clear, so she had no trouble seeing the straps and buttons as she secured them with forelegs and mouth. Still didn't have any fingers, but at least that one wasn't suffering unique to her. They'd all given that up.

While floating neutrally buoyant in the water, the jacket and tank were weightless. But if she left the water, she knew that would change. Kaelynn had already climbed outside the tank enough times to know that her forelegs could hold up her weight. But that back tail—that was where she ran into trouble. She needed a harness, and that was something she just hadn't built yet.

Kaelynn floated near the bottom of the tank, mask resting against her face and straps tight. She left the seal on the mask undone, letting fresh water from outside wash over her gills. But it would take only a twitch of either leg to get the strap tight, and start using the rebreather instead.

Well, that was still how she thought of it. The converted hardware that used water instead of air was a far, far simpler device, which explained its longevity. Removing carbon dioxide from air and replacing it with oxygen required complex chemistry and potentially volatile reactants. But adding oxygen to water and removing the CO2, while surrounded with oxygen-rich air, that was really just a matter of bubbling enough air through it so gasses could be exchanged. Her rebreather would probably keep working for days, maybe weeks—until the battery died.

Thinking about engineering couldn't distract her forever, though. She heard shouts upstairs, and the deck shaking back and forth. The whole tank began to list to the side.

Kaelynn darted to the top of the tank, peeking out into the cell. The door to the cell now hung wide, kept there by the tilt of the ship.

My tank is about to fall over. Already she could see it straining at the clips holding it to the floor, and water began to dribble over the side.

She had a few seconds to decide what to do. Either swim into the bottom and try to counterbalance it with her own weight, or...

The ship continued to list, approaching twenty degrees at least. The little trickle of water over the side became a drizzle. Whatever you guys are doing up there, it's time to fix it! Kaelynn tightened her mask, settling it firmly over her gills and mouth.

Her tank had probably lost a fourth of its water by then, and more by the second. Then she heard a snap, as both clips gave out in a single, terrible moment. Kaelynn swam with all her might, surging ahead of one last wave of water. There was nowhere to go, other than away. She heard the terrible crash as intricate mechanisms shattered, and the sides of the tank caved in—but she was out of it by then, riding the wave towards the door. She glided out into the hall, and by then the water was less than an inch deep under her. She was running out of speed.

The hall was even smokier than their room, with clouds collecting near the ceiling. That smoke wouldn't get her as quickly as it would kill a pony walking through the hall, though it would clog the filter in her rebreather if she were in it for too long.

The ship is burning.

Kaelynn came to a stop beside a corpse, spread haphazardly where it had fallen. One of the pirate crew, with blood pooling around them and a gaping wound in their chest. The blood mixed with what was left of the water, staining it red. Unfortunately, that was also about the time it had spread out so much she had nothing to ride anymore. Kaelynn came to a stop in the hallway, wobbling under her weight. She propped her forelegs under her, rising, with the mask firmly on her face.

She took a breath, and water flowed through the strange openings in her neck. It was a little like breathing from a scuba-tank, with the water feeling a little too cold to be natural. But she wasn't going to drown, that was the important thing. She might still be cooked alive. The smoke had to be coming from somewhere.

Kaelynn took her first nervous step with one hoof. She'd seen ponies walk thousands of times now, so she had some idea of what to do. But what about her tail? The waxy, scaly extension of her body dragged along behind her. For now she was still dripping with water, and so was the hall. She moved, and her tail slid along, a bit like dragging a broken leg. Her tail wasn't broken through—the muscles within were incredibly strong and flexible. Maybe she could use that?

Kaelynn winced as she slid through the bloody water, but she was still moving. It was working! She wasn't helpless! Though the idea of dragging herself through baking sand was still absurd, at least she could move a little.

She reached the stairs, then came to an awkward halt. The steps were unusually tall and steep, a product of the narrow space available aboard a ship. Could she possibly wrench her way up one of them? Kaelynn pressed down on one step, then pushed.

Her leg muscles screamed in protest at the incredible weight, but she lifted, settling her body with a thump on one step.

This is like physical therapy after weeks in a hospital bed. My body doesn't know how to move like this. Even with a harness, she would probably still be in pain.

She climbed another step, then another. As she did, Kaelynn could make out shouting voices from above. They sounded like her friends, though many of them were also strange to her.

"Another bucket!"

"Those dunes are coming up fast!"

"We're not stopping!"

None of those voices sounded like the griffons. But her hearing only partly worked when her head was dry, and she wasn't sure about the details of what she heard.

Blake's voice cut through the crowd, louder than all the others combined. "Brace for impact!"

She only had a second to obey. What could she even do, with only two legs to work with? Kaelynn wrapped both of them through the handrails, not stopping to wonder why a ship of quadrupeds would even have them. It didn't matter, so long as they held.

A second later, they struck. The ship bucked under her, continuing forward with a terrible grinding, crunching slide. People screamed, though the voices weren't familiar to her. Kaelynn's legs almost gave out under her, but she held, even as water sloshed and the corpse bounced around behind her. She gritted her teeth together, waiting for the horror to end.

The ship came to an abrupt stop, wood grinding and crunching as it did. Kaelynn held still, barely moving. Finally she dared open one eye. Through her mask, she was on her side, laying atop the railing rather than below it. She let go, shaking out the strain in her legs. But the stairs had become a nearly flat ramp, with only the handrail to interrupt it.

She dragged herself along. By now, her body already started to feel dry, and her tail caught painfully against some of the wood. She let more of it stretch out behind her, rather than curling the back upward, hoping to spread the weight. It helped, but only made more of it feel irritated. I'm not a snake. I'm not supposed to move like this.

Her body ached, and not just from her legs. But the sideways-door was just ahead. She struggled and grunted, and suddenly she was through, stumbling out onto the ship.

The ship was laying on its side in a desert of wide, flat dunes. It was surrounded by soft sand, with at least the lowest deck probably buried by now. Good thing too, judging by the damage.

Kaelynn couldn't see any of the griffon crew, not a single one. Instead the deck was packed with ponies, at least a dozen of them. Her friends were all here, including two copies of Blake—but other than them and Jordan, the rest of these were all strangers. There was a single griffon among their number, but this one didn't wear the jacket or leather boots, or any belts of weapons. She was as naked as most of the ponies.

A few lay sheltered against the railing somewhere, clutching at bumps, bruises, or breaks. But overall, the crew had survived decently well.

That was more than they could say for the sails. The central mast had toppled sideways, and was now buried in the sand, whipping about in the breeze.

"Everyone stand up," Blake called, over the wind. "Unless you're hurt, then stay where you are. We'll... help everyone as best we can."

The ponies obeyed. So did the griffon, albeit only to storm over to him. "You've doomed us all, dragon pony! Oh sure, you scared off the slavers, by nearly setting the Bright Hawk alight!"

Right, the smoke! Kaelynn didn't see flames up here either, though the raised captain's quarters up ahead did seem blackened and hollowed-out somehow. She couldn't guess how that might've happened, but that also wasn't the first thing on her mind. They'd survived the fight, but the griffon was right. Fighting was the easy part.

"Kaelynn!" said Ryan with Blake's voice—albeit without his tone or speech-patterns. "I was going to go check on you... should you be out here?"

"No," she answered. Her voice was a little louder with the mask, it must've had some passive design to amplify her words. But there were no active speakers. "I'm drying out as we speak. But the tank tipped over, so... what the hell happened?"

Ryan gestured at his double, who had started to organize the injured by now and was asking around about treating them. Three hurt ponies that Kaelynn could see, but only one of them was bleeding. That was probably a good number? How many members of the pirate crew had there been?

"Fight didn't go... quite how we wanted," Ryan said. "Killed one in the hallway, and we backed the others into the captain's quarters. Captain put a knife to Jordan, and..." He gestured vaguely with a hoof. "Blake went nuts with the fire. Like he'd been doing shots of gasoline, looked creepy as hell. Turned their captain into a chicken bake, so that's two dead. The rest of the crew flew off, only a little scorched. But they did something to the helm before they left. We were trying to figure out how to get airborne and put out the fire at the same time."

Two dead. The weight of that was heavier than any news about their crashed ship. Kaelynn hadn't killed anyone before, and she wasn't quite sure she could bear the weight of it if she did. Even in self-defense, that was going to leave scars.

"We need a plan!" she called. Of course she was too quiet to do much—but by then Jordan had noticed them, and he approached. One of his legs was thoroughly bandaged, and he limped forward, putting most of his weight on the other. But he grinned weakly at Kaelynn. "Swam your way up here? Doesn't look wet enough for you, fish."

"You do not need to tell me that," she said, glaring past him at the slowly rising sun. "When that thing comes up, I am going to cook alive. I pray to God the ship's water tank survived the crash, or I am all kinds of screwed."

"We all might be screwed," Blake said, approaching from the other side of the deck. "I don't know if we can get this ship back into the air. None of the horses know how to fly. There's no way a group our size is going to survive hiking across the desert."

But he wasn't alone. The other griffon settled down beside him, her presence intimidating enough that none of the ponies got close. Then again, they seemed to be keeping their distance from Blake too. "I know how to fly her. I think our floatstone survived—if it did, we can get into the sky. What we do after that..." She turned, staring at the broken mast. "We only have the aft sails. We'll be going nowhere fast. But we must move—the crew will want revenge. There is blood on the deck. When they reach Jamacaw, they will raise flags to fight against us. If we're helpless, they'll shell us until we're a stain on the sand."

Comments

[Mister Morden]

They can't catch a break eh?

Hopefully they can get the ship airborne again and get it repaired.

[N4rwh41]

Sky Pirate battle time!

[minibox]

Things are as good as they're gonna get I suppose.

Also, dammit Blake!

What if one of the pirates realizes I'm down here? They could kill me out of revenge, or take me hostage to use against the others. If that happened, she would be even more than useless, she'd be an active liability. Kaelynn was done being a liability.

They were probably securing the ship in a way that'll keep the birds off her.

The ship is burning.

Dammit, Blake!

"I'm drying out as we speak. But the tank tipped over, so... what the hell happened?"

Things are looking super bad for Kaelynn right now.

"Fight didn't go... quite how we wanted," Ryan said. "Killed one in the hallway, and we backed the others into the captain's quarters. Captain put a knife to Jordan, and..." He gestured vaguely with a hoof. "Blake went nuts with the fire. Like he'd been doing shots of gasoline, looked creepy as hell.

I wonder how much of it was "Captain hurt my friend" and how much of it was "Captain hurt my girl". I'm guessing only Ryan knows the answer to that.

"I know how to fly her. I think our floatstone survived—if it did, we can get into the sky. What we do after that..." She turned, staring at the broken mast. "We only have the aft sails. We'll be going nowhere fast. But we must move—the crew will want revenge. There is blood on the deck. When they reach Jamacaw, they will raise flags to fight against us. If we're helpless, they'll shell us until we're a stain on the sand."

A bit better than a catastrophic crash. They'll just have to hope they could signal a passing friendly ship or the Equestrian military before the slavers return in force.

[FanOfMostEverything]

"Ships of wood, men of iron" sounds all well and good until you've got a scaled unicorn-deer of fire involved. Though they're not quite back at square one. Thank goodness Galena has some idea of what she's doing. Now the question is whether they can rig up a propulsion system better than getting out and pushing.

[Lunatic God]

Imagine peacefully flying through the air with your friends then you suddenly heat Reznov shout "INCOMING ARTILLERY" and whistling

[Teraunce]

Well at least they have a chance. Nice chapter

[Goodluckfox]

What if they had the things they needed to fabricate a pulse jet engine?

[Goodluckfox]

Wait a minute they don’t need a pulse jet. They have Blake. he’s a livingafterburner powered by rage... they could use the air itself as reaction mass, heated up like a nuclear rocket. There’s also the Kzinti Lesson... that the effectiveness of a drive is directly related to its effectiveness as a weapon.

[EnderHooves]

10713790
The problem with that, is right now, he's just a heat source and possibly fire source, so they'd need to make a jet big enough to stuff a pony in. The tank that kaelynn used across the desert might work with a few mods, but what will she swim in?
Assuming the travel tank that fell in this chapter isn't too broken, she can still use that. Do they have enough supplies to craft their Kirin Engine though? We'll have to wait and see. Maybe this will be equis's first rocket?

[SRY]

10713164
Lol, haven't heard this in a long while.

Also, appropriate and also because I love these guys and who else has a song about crashing an airship in the desert (figured Abney Park was not quite piratey enough).

[harts fire]

a different kind of story but vary good also.

[DovahkiinMaster]

"Gen-u-ine Nirk fried chicken!"

[EatenbyaGrue]

Jamacaw

Hey, cheer up, Twi! At least they didn't name it "Parrotuga"!

[redmar]

At least Blake can take some comfort in the fact that the crash wasn't entirely his fault even though it's hard to blame him given that he doesn't know how to use his abilities.

[FOXTrot2]

But he wasn't alone. The other griffon settled down beside him, her presence intimidating enough that none of the ponies got close. Then again, they seemed to be keeping their distance from Blake too. "I know how to fly her. I think our floatstone survived—if it did, we can get into the sky. What we do after that..." She turned, staring at the broken mast. "We only have the aft sails. We'll be going nowhere fast. But we must move—the crew will want revenge. There is blood on the deck. When they reach Jamacaw, they will raise flags to fight against us. If we're helpless, they'll shell us until we're a stain on the sand."

Jamacaw, mon. I'm expecting griffons with dreadlocks.

[ObsPerson]

When they reach Jamacaw, they will raise flags to fight against us.

Jamacaw? Jamaica + Macaw?