GREEN
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2454 13.21 KB 220
2454 13.21 KB 220
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> You are Captain Bad Apple, airing out your cot AGAIN
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> You still don’t understand why your morning dew is so much heavier on the Sloop than on the shore
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> You better not have an unawakened fetish for ships or the waves
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> That’s how the sea claims mares, you are pretty sure
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> You open your cabin and trot out onto the deck
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> Three Sheets is already up in the rigging, the tauress’ teats gently undulating in the wind
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> “Morning, Captain! It’s going to be a lucky day, I can feel it in my nips!”
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> You roll your eyes
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“You said the same thing the day we got chased out of Port Outsbutt.”
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> Three Sheets grins
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> “And I was right, I got to buck the governess’ son before we had to leave.”
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“Which is why we had to leave. Get chummy and you’ll be chum, got it?”
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> She salutes
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> “Aye Aye cap’n!”
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> You sigh and head to the mess
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> Hard Tack ladles you a bowl of oatmeal and dried berries
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> You nod your thanks to the unicorn mare
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> As you dig in, you ask,
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“How are we doing on rations?”
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> Tack sits back on her thick flanks, rubbing her chin in thought
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> “We’re good for about two months, longer if you let me bake biscuits.”
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> You nod, that’s about what you figured
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“We should be making port before then. And do I really need to tell you not to bake again?”
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> She frowns
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> “I think I figured out where I went wrong, if Keg would just let me use her flour stock…”
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> You shake your head
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“Experiment with your own bits. We don’t need culinary armor plates right now.”
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> Hard Tack sighs and goes back to stirring the pot of oatmeal
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> You finish your bowl and leave it in the bucket to soak
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> Powder Keg wanders in, and you still can’t get over her appearance
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> Built like a Canterlot noble, tall and slim, but her tail cut indecently short and yet still singed at the ends
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> You tune out their bickering as you head to the back of the Shameless Sloop
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> You haul the anchor up, grinning as you bring all of your earth pony strength to bear on the winch wheel
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> It’s always a relief to really exert yourself in something and not risk bucking a hole in your ship
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> You slow down as the water bulges under the chain and the anchor begins to break the surface
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> When it is fully out, you pull the brake on the winch and trot up to mare the helm
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> Sheets gives you a nod, and you call out mostly for the sake of the other two of your crew
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“Unfurl the main and head!”
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> Sheets undoes a few knots in her web of ropes and pulleys, and the two sails billow out and boom as they catch the wind
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> The Shameless Sloop jerks forward, plowing through the sea
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> Let’s see what the new dawn holds
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> A fussy merchant vessel, it would seem
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“Keg! Fire a warning shot across his bow!”
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> The unicorn grins, her horn lighting with a baleful red
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> The cannon thunders as it launches the iron ball, just barely clipping the rails of the merchant ship
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> A moment later, they answer with a shot aimed at your deck
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> You gallop to where it would hit and pivot, leaning forward
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> Your hind legs bunch up, hooves close together and waiting for…
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> With a metallic clang, the cannonball hits your hooves just as you buck, sending it back into side of the merchant vessel
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“Keg, clear their deck!”
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> A dozen clay pots arc across the water and shatter across the barque’s deck, covering it in a haze of flour dust
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> Then Keg’s fuses ran down and fire bloomed
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> Not much later, the merchant runs a white flag, and you bring the Sloop along side and swing across
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> You land on a sooty wasteland, still warm and embers glowing along the edges
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> The stench of burned fur fills the air, but you ignore it and the groans of the injured as you approach the grim-faced captain
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> You come to a stop before her, your hardtack vest clattering dully
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“I’m glad you have come to see reason. Now, let’s see your cargo.”
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> The captain nods and trots down below decks
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> You follow her down, keeping an eye out for any-
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> The wall by the stairs splinters as a bullet bursts through it and shatters a hardtack plate on your side before clattering to the floor
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> You grunt at the impact, then buck the wall down
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> Among the splinters and shards of wood, you find a dazed mare, barely grown from a filly into a mare
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> You kick the pistol away from her and glance at the captain, who has grown quite pale
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> “Mercy, good pirate. Please...spare my daughter, this is her first encounter on the high seas.”
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> You take another look at the fallen mare, and you can see the resemblance
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> You frown
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“She broke your flag of truce, I should make an example of her to keep such underhanded dealings at bay.”
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> The captain begins to sweat
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> You look her in the eye
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“You are a mare of honor, are you not?”
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> She swallows
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> “I am.”
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> You nod
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“Give the filly a good birching, once I leave. And we’ll be taking your entire stock of flour, among other things.”
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> That should make Tack happy
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> The captain untenses
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> “I’ll see it done myself.”
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> You nod, and start sniffing around the cargo hold
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> The haul is decent, a few cases of rum, plenty of spices, a gilded jewelry box, and some useful maps
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> Most of their hold is full of iron ore, which you leave alone
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> Still, nothing that would qualify for Sheet’s forecast of Discord’s Luck
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> Leagues later, the smell of flour being tortured into ceramic fills the air, and you are beginning to get nervous
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> The next trade route you want to hit is still a day’s travel away, with nothing but the open ocean between you and it
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> You glance up at Three Sheets
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> She’s wrapping her teats down, a grim expression on her face
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> “Cap’n, I swear I didn’t buck anypony’s son this time. Clouds starboard, and I bet my last bit that they aren’t natural.”
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> You turn to stare at the horizon, and the dark cloudbank looming, small black specks flitting around it
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> Your heart drops
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> You had thought you were keeping things low-key, hitting small targets and keeping on the move
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> But it seems the Crown has decided to nip you in the bud
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“Trim the sails! Batten down the hatches!”
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> You grip the wheel grimly
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> A normal storm, you could heave to and ride out
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> A Pegasus-driven one…
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> This may be the end for you and the Shameless Sloop
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> The winds rise, whipping the brine into the air
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> A great hiss fills the air as rain sheets into the rolling sea
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> You steer as best you can, angling into the wind
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> The rain splatters against you, instantly soaking you to the bone
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> Thunder begins to roll as the Royal Airforce builds up charge
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> A pale blue light glows from the top of the mast
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> Then everything goes white as the sky’s wrath comes down
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> You close your eyes and hold the wheel as strike after strike comes crashing down
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> The mast groans and topples over, then more and more of your precious ship is blasted apart by lightning
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> Then one bolt touches off the gunpowder, and the last thing you hear is a deep bellow of rage and loss
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> You are Squadron Leader Cross Winds, and today is a good day
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> The intel on the movements of the Firestorm Pirates was spot on, and the storm is making quick work of their ship
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> You start to give the orders to breaking up the clouds, but then you hear a deep, distinctly male voice roar
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> Your heart drops
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> There was a stallion on that ship?
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> Was he a hostage, crew, stowaway?
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> You dive through the clouds and pull up at what you see
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> What parts lightning blasted away are now restored in pale green fire
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> The Shameless Sloop’s cannons turn of their own accord, rising-
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“Evasive maneuvers!”
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> Your squadron scatters as the skies erupt with ghostly fireballs
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> You punch through the cloud and streak back to the rendezvous point
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> You aren’t looking forward to explaining this to your superiors
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> You are somehow the very alive Captain Bad Apple
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> You come to as the last of the storm dissipates to the aft of the ship
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> Speaking of, it’s a bit different than you remember
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> You poke your hoof near the green wheel of flame that used to be the helm
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> It’s warm, but not hot
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> “Oh, you’re up.”
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> You turn to see a translucent figure, some sort of minotaur bull?
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“Ah, welcome aboard my ship?”
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> He grins
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> “The other way around, actually. It’s so nice that you can finally see me.”
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> You blink
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“Are you the spirit of the Shameless Sloop?”
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> He shrugs
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> “Insofar as I’ve been haunting it these past several decades, yes. So! Your crews alive, the ship’s… working, what do you want to do next?”
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> You rub your face
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“I need a drink.”
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> Anon laughs
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> “Good choice.”
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> You head into the mess to find the rest of your crew had the same idea
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> Three Sheets grins at you
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> “I see you met our good luck charm! I told you today was a lucky day, I don’t even have to do the rigging, he can do it all with a thought.”
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> You raise your eyebrows
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“I guess that means we don’t need you at all. That is some good luck.”
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> Sheets sticks her tongue out at you
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> “Please, you’d be lost without my tits.”
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> Anon nods seriously.
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> “She makes a good point, her tits are pretty necessary.”
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> You facehoof
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"The spirit of the Shameless Sloop is a shameless slut."
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> "Can you blame me? I have had nothing to do for decades except ogle my crew and soothe their dreams."
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> Hard Tack blinks
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> "So the reason why I always have face-sitting dreams while I'm on the ship…"
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> Anon grins
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> "You're welcome."
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> The crew blushes, and you aren't immune either
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> You've had more than your fair share of dreams of trapping a stallion's head between your thighs and forcing him to eat you out
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> You walk to the opened case of rum and grab yourself a bottle
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> As you sit down, Keg sidles up to you
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> "Cap'n, something's bothering me…"
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> You look at her questioningly
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> She runs her hoof through her short-cropped mane
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> "I was right next to the barrels when they blew, Cap'n. By all rights, I should be a sticky coat of paint, not talkin' to you whole and hearty."
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> You swallow a mouthful of rum, but that does little to ease your mind
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"Might be best to avoid anything strenuous, then. At least until we see how this all shakes out."
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> Keg nods, and knocks back the rest of her drink
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> She ambles over to the case and-
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> Wait, shouldn't it be half empty by now?
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> Keg grabs a bottle and you stare as another one takes its place with a shimmer of faint green light
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> You take a sip of your rum, rolling it around on your tongue
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> It’s a good apple rum, not unlike what your estranged family would brew
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> No strange aftertastes, no trace that it might not be all that it seems
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> You turn your attention to Anon and Sheets as they flirt openly
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> Sheets has her arm around the ghost, pressing his face into the side of her teat
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> You can’t see where Anon’s hands are, but the blush Sheets is sporting gives you some idea
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> You clear your throat
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> Sheets snaps to attention, and Anon pouts
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“Anon, how much longer can you keep the ship whole like this?”
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> He scratches his chin
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> “A while? I can feel a bit of strain keeping it together, but it’s pretty light even after a half a day.”
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> You nod
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“Even so, our first priority is stopping to make repairs. The nearest port is…”
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> You try to remember the map
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> Anon’s eyes unfocus
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> “Trampa Bay, should take us about a day and a half to get there. Course set.”
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> The Shameless Sloop groans as it adjusts its heading
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> You blink
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> Sheets might not be the only one out of a job
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“Right. Good. Um. Is there anything else we can do to keep your energy up?”
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> Even if you fix the ship, at least Keg would be in trouble if Anon wore himself out
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> Sheets pats you on the withers
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> “We discussed it and decided that you should get first dibs, being the captain and all.”
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> You raise an eyebrow at her, then look at Anon
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> He’s blushing prettily
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> “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this.”
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> You lick your lips
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> Time to boldly go where no mare has gone before
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“Let’s take this to my cabin.”
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> By the time the Sloop docks at the Trampa Bay harbor, you are glad you have such a hearty, vigorous crew
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> Anon doesn’t need to sleep, eat, or drink
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> More ominously, neither do the rest of you, though you still do so out of habit and for the joy of it
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> You walk down the gangplank and set hoof onto the dock
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> And promptly stop, as your leg withers to the bone
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> You pull your leg back and are relieved to see it restored to pristine condition
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> It seems the sea has claimed you after all
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> You call out to one of the loitering wharf rats, paying her a piece of six to run a message to the lumber mill
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> You’re determined to make the best of it, and thinking back to the night before…
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> The best of it is pretty damn good
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> You are Princess Luna, reading yet another report about the activities of the Shameless Sloop
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> Waylaying vessels for delicacies and booze, yet only stealing a trivial amount of the ship’s stock
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> Disappearing below the waves whenever a patrol comes by
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> Floating above cannon and spellfire range, making obnoxiously loud sex noises throughout the night
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> You sigh and set the report aside
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> With any luck, Celestia and her galleon full of desserts will persuade them to turn privateer
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> If you are going to have an immortal band of eccentric pirates roaming the seas, they may as well be on your side
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