> Luna's Hope - The High Seas of Equestria > by Midnight Sprint > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- > Chapter 1: Through the Storm > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Cold, salty foam sprayed across the mighty wooden deck of the vessel known as “Luna’s Hope”, rocking to and fro in the fierce tail end of a sea storm. The ship had been at sea for only two weeks, and the task was to search out new lands previously uncharted in the distant east. Hoofs clattered across the deck, while every pony hurried from station to station. Atop the highest point of the deck upon the ship’s stern, stood the second tallest pony, but the highest ranking. Captain Silver Stern, a steely grey unicorn with a mane of black planted his hooves upon the railing beside the helm. A gold and red compass rose marked his flank, tucked underneath his navy blue captain’s jacket. Brown eyes glanced sideways to his navigator, helmsman, and fellow unicorn known as Lodestar. The captain continued barking orders as the harsh winds yanked the vessel back and forth, attempting to fight its way through the edge of the unforgiving winds. “Hard to port! Take us to half sail before the lines snap!” Assorted deckhooves of both the earth pony and unicorn variety darted with intent and caution alike, in order to prevent disaster. Helmsman and Navigator Lodestar turned his rose red eyes to the captain, as the magic from his horn gripped the wheel with unyielding tenacity, commanding the vessel to its side. The shining star cutie mark on Lodestar’s white coat continued to be pelted by the baleful rain, while the brick red mane that lay beneath a long black scarf wrapped firmly around his neck and head managed to stay relatively dry in comparison. “Captain! We’d better come out of this quick, or I have a feeling we’ll be swimmin’ to shore!” Lodestar hollered over the howling oceanic winds. Silver Stern scowled, barking more orders to the crew, his voice piercing even the most intense of gusts. The Captain turned back to his navigator. “Just keep at it, Lodestar. We’re almost there.” From high atop the mast, a female voice shouted down to the deck. “First Mate Headsail! I see the end of the storm! We’ve turned too far! Hard to starboard, and quick!” The little pale blue Pegasus sitting tight in the crow’s nest was Skysail. Many ships would acquire pegasi for their ships to take care of scouting positions like the crow’s nest, as well as search and rescue operations. Her hair was cloudy white, and she stared down upon the deck with amber eyes. The First Mate known as Headsail marched across the deck, relaying orders to deckhooves, and ensuring jobs get done himself. The First Mate was an earth pony mare with brown coat, blue eyes, and a seaweed green mane. A dark blue scarf was wrapped around her neck, but unlike Lodestar, it was only upon her neck. Her duties as First Mate were too important in the current situation to allow her the luxury of a protected face, as the muting from the scarf would distort an already wind-muted voice. Underneath a light blue jacket, her cutie mark was visible only when she moved with haste, showing a dolphin upon a cloud. “You heard the Pegasus, Headsail! Hard to starboard! Keep her at half sail, and let’s get the hell out of here!” Headsail trotted with mixed poise and authority across the slippery deck, her hooves finding distinct grounding, despite the occasional folly that the deckhands found. She was an experienced sailor, having traveled with Captain Silver Stern for a long time, and the storm, while frightening, was little more than a bit of rough waters to her. She relayed each order like it was her last. “YOU HEARD THE CAPTAIN! Hard to starboard, keeping at half sail! Keep us steady and watch for rogue waves!” Everypony aboard worked in astonishing speed and devotion. The Luna’s Hope was a tight knit crew, who laughed and lived as friends aboard the vessel, but became an efficient machine when functioning as a working team. The bow punched through a startlingly tall wave, causing a wall of salt water to wash across the deck. Sailors slipped, and Headsail leaped from point to point, ensuring each life remained on board. She cast her gaze to the helm. “Everyone’s here, Captain! Direction’s good. Just a little longer and we’ll be out!” Silver Stern nodded, and trotted down the stairs around the wheel, leaving Lodestar to the piloting. The Captain approached Headsail as the winds lessened, and the merciless storm began to echo behind their tails. Lowering his voice in light of the dramatically weakened winds, he spoke to his First Mate. “Good work, Headsail. I couldn’t have handled the crew better myself.” His neck craned behind to look upon the storm, thunder cracking high in the sky, making Skysail glad she hadn’t flown. “Once we’re clear of this mess by a log, have the crew on deck for a roll call. I want to be certain that everypony is accounted for. Everything looks clear, but you can never know for sure. Sometimes, only when it’s too late.” Headsail gave an “Aye, sir.” in response. They both sighed a breath of relief, despite having survived worse. The high seas could be a fatally dangerous place for a bunch of ponies, regardless of experience. Once distance had been set, the Captain called for no sail, leaving the ship ghosting in the water. The ship was a small exploratory vessel, and only a basic crew was required to command it. Silver Stern exited his quarters atop the highest deck, and walked to the wheel, overlooking the main deck. Headsail trotted up and down the line of ponies. “Captain’s requested a roll call, sailors! When I speak your name, you will answer with an ‘Aye’ or an ‘Aye, ma’am’!” “Navigator and Helmsman Lodestar. Unicorn.” The First Mate called, to which Lodestar immediately answered. She moved through a few more deckhooves on the list. “High Tide and Low Tide. Earth pony siblings.” Two ponies stood side-by-side, efficient as a duo, and lumped together for convenience during roll call and other business. High Tide was a lightweight mare, while her twin brother stood noticeably taller. Both had coats of teal with charcoal grey manes and purple eyes. Their cutie marks were ocean waves facing in mirroring directions. The twins answered roll call in tandem. “Second Mate Broadside. Earth pony.” Previously unseen, as he had been commanding the inner workings of the ship while the Captain and Headsail directed the top decks, this earth pony was a dull blue, with emerald green eyes, and an ashy white mane held down below a grey skull cap. He was older than most of the other sailors, including the Captain and First Mate, but respected and loved his position as Second Mate. His mark was a galleon ship. “Crow’s nest and aerial scout Skysail. Pegasus.” Already seen in command of scouting and a multipurpose Pegasus, Skysail answered “Aye!” clearly and with pride. Now that she stood on deck, one could see that she still donned her sun faded red bandana. This was to allow her crew to located her in the sky, due to her blue and white colors, which sometimes caused her to camouflage unintentionally. The First Mate approached the final two in the crew lineup. “Arms director and cook Drop Shot. Unicorn.” The unicorn responded with a slightly dull “Aye, ma’am.” as he was a gruff pony by comparison. He was friendly, but intimidating to those who did not have the time to get to know him. Drop Shot’s coat was a dark, deep brown, complimented by black mane and tail hair. He had one purple eye in his right socket, while an eye patch covered his missing left. The mark resting on his flank was an iron anchor. “And finally,” First Mate Headsail spoke clearly. “Devil Seam. Earth pony.” The pony stood forward, glancing over his shoulder back at the storm for a moment, and then back to the First Mate. She looked him in the eyes. Close though their crew was, she still expected professionalism during operation. “Something of interest, sailor?” Devil Seam gave an involuntary shudder out of fear. The earth pony was new to the ship, by only as many weeks as the Luna’s Hope had been at sea. Seam had signed on at the last dock, looking to join a crew that sailed with direction and purpose, but without the immediate military overview of the Royal Command. Devil Seam’s natural coat was a faded orange, like the skin of a Valencia orange that had remained on the branch until the last moment. His hair was a muddy, earthy brown, and his eyes rested an unremarkable royal blue beneath his brow. The mark upon this one’s flank was a cracked wooden chest. What it represented nobody knew, and Devil Seam hadn’t felt close enough to anyone on the ship yet to open up about himself. “No, ma’am.” He answered tentatively. “I’m just grateful that we all made it out of the storm.” Headsail stared at Devil Seam as though analyzing the pony. She finally pulled her head up and proper, and marched back down the line away from Devil Seam, who released a sigh of relief. The First Mate spoke up to the whole crew. “Indeed, Mr. Seam. This is why we as a crew share the camaraderie we hold dear. Our trust and friendship lies not with just our Captain…” She began, while Silver Stern stood on the edge of the helm by the railing overlooking the main deck. He nodded with a smile to Headsail, and then upon his crew with pride. “We are all equally valuable. Valuable to each other as brothers, sisters, friends, and as a single working force. Just as our kinship keeps our hearts warm with belonging and purpose, our cooperation as a team keeps us alive, healthy, and able to continue doing what we love. Never forget that. We all share the same devotion to the sea, one another, and the desire for freedom. Stay true to one another, and we will always emerge triumphant!” The crew gave a cheer, as the First Mate dismissed them. Taking the vessel on half sail on a continued course through some nearby shallows, a small passage became visible on the horizon. Headsail approached Captain Silver Stern, which the Captain met with a grin. “That was a rather eloquent speech, Headsail.” “I thought it was a rather pleasant little motivator.” She answered with a genuine smile. The Captain nodded with an expression of surrender. “I admit it was. Honest, as well. We can’t let any of us forget why we’re out here, and what keeps us going.” “Captain!” A panicked voice cried out from high above. The Captain and First Mate stare up towards the crow’s nest, where Skysail was resting in the pony sized bucket. “Captain! On the horizon!” The Captain and First Mate narrowed their eyes, squinting to see what the Pegasus was referring to, but with the lowering sun, they were unable to locate the object of concern. “We’ll drop anchor tonight in the shallows, and continue in the morning.” The Captain called up to the crow’s nest. The Pegasus, however, shook her head fervently, and explained. “No, Captain! It’s not that! There’s a wrecked ship on the other side of these closest channels! I can see what looks like an old S.O.S. on the shore! There might be somepony stranded on the islands!” The Captain and Headsail looked to one another. “If somepony’s there, we have to go ashore and find them.” Headsail nodded in agreement before replying, “Even if it’s old, we have to try. If there’s anyone alive, we may be their only chance of escape. If we’re dropping anchor here tonight anyway, we’ve nothing to lose.” Captain Silver Stern looked up to the Pegasus. “Good eyes, Skysail!” To which she saluted with her hoof, and kept a watchful eye on the islands. “Headsail, have the necessary crew take us through the nearest channel. We’ll drop anchor in the little lagoon near the spotted S.O.S. message. From there we can go ashore.” Headsail also saluted, and marched off to direct the needed crew ponies. Speaking to herself, she whispered, “I only hope they’re still alive.” > Chapter 2: The Survivors > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- “Captain, it’s nearing midnight, and we’ve been walking in this tropic jungle for hours now.” Second Mate Broadside spoke gruffly, shoving his way through a tangle of vines in the animal trail leading through the bush. Captain Silver Stern, leading the way for his Second Mate and two deckhoof ponies glanced to the side, shifting the torch he held with his magic, to adjust the lighting. “Mr. Broadside, if there’s anypony alive on this island, it may only be by a thread. It is our duty to help them, if they truly be yet holding on.” Broadside looked away in momentary shame, but his concerns weren’t simply to be out of the jungle. He had a crew to worry about, as well as the well being of the Captain and this small contingent of search and rescue ponies his Captain had mustered. The Captain spoke again, as their trotting continued, “Besides, Broadside, haven’t you noticed?” Silver Stern nodded to various points on the trail. While any hoof prints were either long faded, or blended into natural terrain, there were a few unnatural markers. The Captain had noticed an iron nail lodged into a stump they had passed, as well as a few busted planks of wood nudged off the trail at semi-regular intervals. These were subtle trail markers left to show the way, while remaining subtle. This was the tactic of a pony who needed to stay hidden. Any average pony would assume that this was old debris washed onto the island long ago by a storm, but experienced sailors knew what to look for in storm debris, compared to distress beacons and waypoints. “Captain, up ahead.” One of the sailors relayed to Broadside. Peering through the brush, a small clearing near the foot of a steep mountainous slope was visible beyond the tangled vegetation. The Captain gave a brief rundown to the away team about a cautious approach, for while a stranded pony was possible, pirate ponies had been known to set up ambushes on occasion. “Quietly.” Broadside issued to the sailors behind. In the clearing, the thicker, lush green of the jungle gave way to a smooth dirt ground, gently sloped at an incline towards the mountain. There were three discolored sections of dirt on the far side of the clearing, away from the mountainside, which hosted the threshold to a cavernous interior. Looking upon the steep pass, a hole no larger than a full grown stallion marked entry into the mysterious innards of the island. Silver Stern pulled the torch forward, as a thunderbolt cracked in the distance. Broadside trotted beside his Captain, raising question in his typical gruff tone. “What do you think, Captain? Coming storm? Or is that the mess behind us?” Silver Stern looked to the sky, staring upon the crescent moon, and the stars peppering her surroundings. The Captain replied, “Clear as a fountain in Canterlot. That thunder has to be from the storm we passed. There’d be no natural means for lightning otherwise.” Broadside nodded, refocusing on the task at hand. “Alright, everypony.” The Captain spoke. “Broadside will lead the way into the cave. You lot will follow, and I’ll follow on rear.” Upon finishing his statement, Silver Stern tossed Broadside a torch, which was caught, and immediately taken to point. The two ponies followed closely behind Second Mate Broadside, as the cave mouth began to illuminate. Just as the Captain had entered the cave’s interior, the four sailors gasped to themselves, though not one would admit it, as what had previously been thought of as a cave, was in fact a grand cavern, with branching tunnels in various pocked points. Beautiful minerals created a finely and naturally crafted painting across smooth and glossy stone. Stalagmites and stalactites reaching for one another like long, piercing alligator teeth. There were, of course, hidden signs of habitation here, but those who either had lived, or still did inhabit this system were clearly elsewhere in the dark. Torchlight played across the colorful minerals, casting strangely beautiful dancing shadows across an already seemingly mystical environment. The dripping of water from pointed stalactites provided a stunningly tranquil background noise for the explorers. The two sailor ponies gestured with their heads for Broadside to follow, to which the Second Mate whispered to the Captain to approach. Halfway down a cavern path leading gently upward, they could see something moving in the dark. The Captain moved ahead, and held the torch out. Brightened by the fire, what they had seen was a tattered white cloth, stained by muddy water and an algae green splash. To avoid disastrous circumstances, the captain handed off his torch to one of the sailor ponies, as he took point. Nudging the dirty cloth aside with a small flicker of magic, Silver Stern slowly pushed his head into the other side. This path opened up into a small cave than the entryway had provided, but was a much more secure chamber. As he observed the cave, he saw that there was no opening to the above, leaving no room for flooding, unless such a flood were to come from outside or the main cavern below. A gathering of wooden planks, crates, barrels, and surprisingly, even pillows were strewn in a modestly cohesive layout. Walking into the room in full, the Captain was met by a forceful collision, as a stallion leaped upon him, blindsiding the Captain. Broadside instinctively moved to buck the attacker, but remembering the Captain’s statements of caution, decided to body-check the assailant instead. The figure fell easily off of the Captain, despite the initial power strike he had connected with. As the Captain gathered himself, the explorers surrounded the pony. “Assailant! Identify yourself!” Second Mate Broadside commanded to the fallen stallion. Clearly malnourished, and exhausted, the thin framed figure stood up, looking confused at the intruders. His body had clearly seen better days of powerful muscles and a proud gait. Instead, his red coat was dulled by dirt, and his orange hair was dirty, obviously not frequently washed, and only with stream water at best. His green eyes scanned the ponies with shaky persistence, before surrendering in an exhausted drop to his knees. The Captain ordered the others to stand down, at which point Broadside had them keep watch, while he kept guard over Silver Stern’s flank, in the event of another ambush. Silver Stern spoke again. “My name is Captain Silver Stern of the Luna’s Hope.” The thunder in the distance rumbled closer, Broadside raising his eyebrows in interest and curiosity. The storm had been moving away from their Easterly heading. “We are an exploratory and reconnaissance vessel for the Kingdom of Equestria. What is your name? What are you doing here?” The weary eyed survivor stared up to the Captain, tears brimming in his eyes. “Eight years.” The pony said quietly, so that even the droplets of water from the cave’s jagged ceilings were louder. The Captain inquired. “What was that? Please, speak up.” The pony spoke again, with a modest country accent on his lips. “We kept track of the days, you know.” “We?” Silver Stern replied. “My wife and I. We’re all that’s left. There were three others with us, but…” The Captain remembered the old discolored dirt out in the clearings edge. His eyes fell downward with sadness and compassion. The stranded stallion continued, “We were sailing East, towards an island settlement, but we never made it past these little islands. We tried to make it through the channels, but then…” The Captain gave a moment for the stallion to gather himself, but the rest never came. As gently as possible, he urged the pony to continue. Nervously, the stallion spoke, “We were attacked. A masterful ambush forced us through the shallows. We tried to get out from the lagoon, but once we hit the open water, we were sunk.” “Sunk? Your ship was attacked then?” “Yes.” The stallion spoke. “We’re no sailors. Just passengers en route to our destination. The pirates swept in. Pegasus corsairs brought fog and thunder. They left only those of us with no real knowledge of sailing, or survival.” The Captain ordered the ponies to open their trail packs, and bring the stallion some fresh water, which he at first denied, but then accepted reluctantly, trying to hide the need for reliance on the rescuers. “So how did you survive this long?” Silver Stern asked. The survivor glanced at him skeptically. “I think you can see how well it went. My wife is asleep over there,” He said, nodding towards a smooth section of the cave cordoned off with more fabric, a mare just visible past the sheet was asleep and as emaciated. “I suppose they hadn’t guessed that we were farm ponies from the mainland.” The stallion said with a nervous laugh, before coughing in mild pain. The Captain again inquired. “You’re farmers. That explains how you were able to make extended use of what little this island has to offer. Let’s get you two on the Luna’s Hope, and get out of here. What are your names?” The stallion stood with the help of one of the sailor ponies. Slowly, the survivor moved, gently awoke his highly exhausted wife, and helped her to her feet. “My name is Navel Orchard. My wife is Ginger Gold. We used to run orchards in Ponyville. Celestia knows what’s become of our home and family now…” The mare named Ginger Gold quietly stared at the rescuers with blue eyes. Her coat was a once shining gold champagne, with a blonde mane and tail that had seen far better days. She nuzzled her husband, thanking the Captain. In short order, Broadside approached from the entryway cavern after a brief absence. “Captain, we’d best be going. Storm’s approaching.” > Chapter 3: Remembering > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- The two survivor ponies Captain Silver Stern and his crew had located upon the island had been taken into the heart of the Luna’s Hope. Offering their services as cooks in temporary compensation for their stay on board the ship, the farmer ponies were settling into a small living quarter connected to the galley. The Captain and his first officers were meeting in private to discuss which course of action to take, in light of the circumstances. A salty wind picked up along the sails in the day following the unintended rescue mission, while Skysail the Pegasus hovered atop the central mast. A keen eye on the weather approaching, the swift and nimble flyer kept the crew well informed of any such weather patterns and systems that might threaten the Hope. The Hope herself was listing across the depths at a snail’s pace, keeping a near dead drift, while the minor wind nudged her along. Yanking rope into various knots at the aft of the Luna’s Hope, the newest sailor tugged firmly. Skysail darted her gaze downwards to the sailor as a small splashing sound was heard. “Everything alright down there, Devil Seam?” The Pegasus called downward. The sailor stared upward, replying with a questioning expression upon his face. Skysail shrugged, and continued watching the waves around their vessel. Devil Seam looked down into the water, glancing around, and eying the waves curiously. His eyes settled upon the horizon where the dark clouds continued to gather. While it was true that her speed had not increased terribly in the couple days since the rescue of the two merchant ponies, the crew was more than a little unsettled by the fact that the restless weather system seemed to be stalking them from just far enough on the sea as to press intimidation upon their minds. Devil Seam had ended his rounds for securing the sails and their primary lines, and began trotting down the main passage into the ship’s bowels. While the Luna’s Hope was not nearly so large as an Equestrian Frigate or warship, the hope was surprisingly spacious. The obviously limited space on the ship’s open air decks served to give the impression of less room than truly existed. Devil Seam crossed past a main hold, and dropped his hindquarters upon a short, wide crate. He leaned back and stared out a window nearby. Adjacent to the room, rested the galley. Three voices conversed curiously with newfound camaraderie. The dark brown, black haired unicorn known as Drop Shot was laughing cheerfully, while discussing foodstuffs with Ginger Gold and Navel Orchard. Both of the earth pony survivors were now much healthier in appearance. Their coats were far brighter, and their eyes rested properly, instead of sunken and dulled. “Let me tell ya, friends, it’s bad enough most of these ponies couldn’t cook a good potato stew to save their lives!” Drop Shot said, followed by a bout of all three laughing, while he adjusted his eye patch in the ruckus. “It’s good to see you lot up and about. When the Captain and we all caught wind of a wreck, we weren’t sure what we’d end up finding.” Drop Shot spoke, his grizzled voice sounding with both seriousness, as well as genuine concern. The old horse was a gruff and stout sailor, but he took his concept of fellowship very seriously. “To be honest,” Ginger Gold spoke, her accent protruding more prominently now. “We weren’t sure we’d ever see another pony again. We were all lucky to have survived the attack.” Navel Orchard placed a hoof upon his wife’s shoulder. “Once we had lost all the other survivors, we had given up hope. By that point, we didn’t even know how many moons had passed. We were making the best guess we could, but we weren’t expecting much.” The look of exhaust passed briefly over both the stallion and the mare’s eyes, while Drop Shot sat silently listening to their tale. “Tell me,” Drop Shot whispered earnestly. “I know it’s hard, but take it from an old, seasoned sea-hound like meself. It’s best to talk these things out, and let me tell ya, I can relate.” The two survivors glanced up. They knew these ponies were all experienced sailors, but surely they hadn’t all been through that much Hell? Clearly understanding their mild apprehension, Drop Shot continued tentatively. He addressed the source of mystery from his fellow crew. One he, somewhat hypocritically, kept to himself. “Listen, friends. Ya don’t think I got this from a fork, do ya?” He said with a mild grin, trying to add just enough humor as to not be inappropriate. The two looked to one another, and searched quietly in each other’s eyes for a decision. Drop Shot cleared his throat gently. “Never you mind. You don’t have to tell me nothin’ if ya don’t feel like it.” The older stallion stood, and started organizing some utensils in his cupboards. “No, wait.” Navel Orchard spoke, with intent. “You’re right. And you have the right to know. You and your crew saved our lives.” Drop Shot slowly stopped his organizing and turned, questioning if Navel and Ginger were truly alright with recalling their nightmarish ordeal. Nodding, Ginger and Navel alternated detailing the situation more clearly than they had when explaining to the Captain upon their discovery on the island. “We were sailing to a colony on an island.” Ginger began. “They needed fruit trees.” Navel then picked up, “We ran orchards back in Ponyville on the mainland. We had made an arrangement with the governess of the little village out there to bring some trees, a lot of seeds, and some equipment.” “But we obviously didn’t get that far.” Ginger continued. “We were just coming through the channels where you found our debris washed up. The weather was awful. I don’t think I’ve seen weather that vicious or persistent before.” Navel, again, spoke. “Another ship was making its way through the storm. It was like the weather wasn’t even touching their ship.” Drop Shot’s eye looked down, and scoured around the room in thought. The two continued their tale of pirate ponies. After their merchant vessel was peppered by cannon fire, the attacking raiders were so deft and light on their hooves, that they barely were able to recall any of their appearances. Some of the pirates were so quick it was as though they were jumping from starboard to port as though nothing sat in between. “Is there anything you can remember about the attack? Anyone at all that stood out?” Drop Shot asked nervously. He knew not to pry too far this soon after such an ordeal upon hearts not accustomed to such stress and chaos. Ginger looked down, and wrapped her neck around Navel’s shoulder. He looked Drop Shot straight eye-to-eye. “Yes, sir.” Navel spoke with his teeth gritted. “Their captain. His body was a charcoal grey, with a dull red mane that had braids in it in a couple places. He had a three pointed hat-“ “Tricorne.” Drop Shot, corrected instinctively, before apologizing quietly. “Uh… yeah. He had a tricorne hat, and a brick red captain’s coat. His mark was… what was it?” Ginger Gold interrupted her husband’s recounting to finish the detail. “A mast. His cutie mark was a ship’s mast. The sun worn mast of a great ship.” “Do you recall the colors they were flying? Did they have a standard? A flag?” Drop Shot inquired, dead seriously. Ginger Gold and Navel Orchard once more looked to one another, and meeting Drop Shot’s eye again, quite seriously replied, “Yes.” Ginger said. “The flag was black. It had a yellow pony skull surrounded by a grey horseshoe.” Drop Shot stood up, and faltered in his footing. He darted to the window, staring into the horizon, watching the grey skies. He muttered to himself, “Windigo’s Pride.” Turning to the farm ponies, he spoke. “We need to see the Captain. NOW.” > Chapter 4: Thunder > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- The night passed with relative ease. While the tempestuous weather stalked the crew of the Hope on the horizon, seemingly ever-present, her crew seemed able to keep the stranded mare and stallion safe within the hull. They moved little for the first number of hours. Content to rest in the comfort of a true and maintained structure, Ginger Gold and Naval Orchard were more than happy to stay out of the way. Naval offered their services to the galley, as they were well versed in fruit maintenance and food preparations, but First Mate Headsail issued her personal insistence that the two remain confined to bed rest for at least one day. Atop the ship’s main deck, Helmsman Lodestar kept his eyes on the sea, his sun-worn black scarf flapping in the salty ocean wind. While the morning sun began to crest, a bare minimum number of deckhoof ponies began performing their regular daily maintenance routines. The officers, and select sailor ponies had been summoned into the Captain’s Quarters for a meeting. Captain Silver Stern’s hat hung on a rack, which itself rested beside his desk chair. He breathed slowly, gathering his thoughts before beginning the meeting. He crossed his hooves on the table, while First Mate Headsail stood beside him, to his left. The other officers and sailors stood before him around the front of his desk. The quarters were well maintained. Small, for what one might expect of a ship, but spacious enough to trot around and relax. The captain enjoyed the space afforded by his title, but only ever saw it as a payment for his duties. “We find ourselves in quite the position, don’t we?” Silver Stern’s voice spoke lowly. “Under normal circumstances it would be appropriate to continue our initial course and resume our intended routine on the seas.” The ponies nodded, naturally they understood that this introduction was simply to assess the situation and provide a start to the conversation. He then continued, “Of course, this now hardly can be considered ‘normal’ circumstances, can it?” Headsail agreed vocally. “Aye, Captain. I’ve spoken with the two castaways. This report of such violent and aggressive pirate activity is… disturbing.” Others agreed, as the gathering broke down into quiet conversations with one another about how to approach the situation. A pale blue Pegasus stepped forward to speak through the hushed dialogue. “Captain?” “Yes, Skysail?” Silver Stern regarded. “You have a concern?” The Crowsnest watchpony nodded seriously. She stood to the left of the desk, placing her at Silver Stern’s right hoof side. She turned so as to address all the ponies present. “I understand that I’m just a sailor on this ship, but something bothered me. When I heard about the story told by the castaways, I couldn’t help but feel… nervous. The method of their attack was launched by Pegasus ponies.” The Captain remained unchanged in his appearance, seemingly statuesque in his stoic guise. In truth, he was running a thousand scenarios in his head. Such a world as theirs was wide and full of countless dangers. Second Mate Broadside stepped forth, his deep voice providing more of an ominous presence than intended. “True. Why does this bother you, Skysail? Not counting one or two deckhooves on board, you’re the only Pegasus, and we’ve all been sailing long enough that no Pegasus on board could possibly be connected to their attackers. Am I right, Captain?” The ponies, including Skysail turned their heads to the Captain. Headsail narrowed her eyes at Skysail, not out of suspect, but out of confusion. The Captain tilted his head, and urged Skysail to explain herself. “What I mean, Second Mate… Captain… is that their attack was the sort of weather control that only Pegasus ponies could perform. My concern isn’t about their ship… it’s…” Skysail trailed off, as she trotted slowly to the window, staring out upon the horizon. The gloomy weather that was ghosting the Luna’s Hope yet lingered on the otherwise azure waves. The Captain understood, giving a minute for it to sink in for the other gathered ponies. Headsail nodded in understanding, as their eyes met momentarily. Broadside whispered under his breath. “No…” The Second Mate subsequently walked beside the Pegasus, looking out upon the same swirling stormy anomaly. “Their attack was allegedly eight years ago. Surely it couldn’t be.” Yet, the thought that weather controlling corsairs were slowly trailing the Hope like an eagle sailing far above a mouse was far too unnerving, even for a stallion as seasoned and hardened as Broadside. Captain Silver Stern allowed various others to speak their minds, though the general consensus was to escape to more populated waters, in particular those patrolled by the Equestrian Navy. “Headsail,” The Captain commanded, to which the First Mate stood rigid at attention. “Set the Hope in motion. We make sail for Celestia’s Beacon. If we find that lighthouse, we can make port for the night, properly restock supplies, and prepare for a return to Equestria’s shores. Even if the pirates are watching us, it would be foolish to attempt to defeat them ourselves. Especially when we do not know the full extent of their capabilities.” Having issued his command, the First and Second Mates immediately ushered the others out, having been dismissed. Ponies began hollering to one another, relaying orders and guesses about why the rush had been commanded. Rumors began swirling around the ship, while down below, Ginger and Naval looked to one another, wondering what the noise above could have possibly meant. Silver Stern walked with purpose out onto the deck where the wheel sat. Lodestar was overseeing the preparations with rudder and sails while waiting for his need to arise at the helm itself. Headsail was staring out into the accumulating darkness on the sea. She had a feeling in her gut that Skysail was right. Such hectic weather riding continuously, yet controlled, while following was clearly unnatural phenomena. Something or somepony was commanding the tempest. And unless some spirit with a chaotic sense of humor, like the legendary Discord, was performing some heinous prank… the only remaining explanation was sinister intent. Lodestar gripped the helm firmly, planting hooves onto the wooden handles. His neck craned backwards. “We’re movin’ out, Cap’n!” Yet, just as suddenly as the Hope’s helmsman relayed the start of their departure, three violent and resounding lightning bolts cracked from cloud to sea in perfect unison. A three-fold pillar of raw electric fury sent shivers down the spines of every last sailor onboard the Luna’s Hope. From atop the Crowsnest, Skysail circled in the air, before descending downward to the deck, standing beside her commanding officers. Broadside moved with purpose along the length of the ship, issuing and relaying orders, ensuring that the ship’s movements were crisp and expedient. Drop Shot charged up the stairs which lead from the main flat of the primary deck to the command level where the helm rested. His single eye shined with uncertainty and fright. “Skysail!” The Pegasus turned to her comrade sailor. “Skysail… I saw it. Please tell me that it isn’t what I think it is. Your eyes are sharper than any cutlass or saber. Tell us… it’s surely not-“ “It is.” Skysail interrupted. Her eyes were warm. She felt a strange mix of sadness and anger, that her own kind could abuse their natural abilities for malice, greed, and savagery. As the officers and few sailors by the helm stared out upon the storm, they soon became all too aware that the coordinated lighting arcs were not simply a display of power, but a cry. It had marked the initiation of the storm’s movement. Centered in the middle of the gathered black and grey clouds was a smoky silhouette of another ship. Seemingly only moderately maintained for appearance, intimidating size and tattered cloth draped the masts of the ghostly frigate emerging from the horrid weather. Above the ship, three figures darting vivaciously in unpredictable patterns, apart from leading just ahead of the ship’s bow. Hazy contrails of cloud and lightning wisped in their aerial wakes. “Pirates.”