The Tale of the Shameless Sloop (RGRE)

> You are Captain Bad Apple, airing out your cot AGAIN
> You still don’t understand why your morning dew is so much heavier on the Sloop than on the shore
> You better not have an unawakened fetish for ships or the waves
> That’s how the sea claims mares, you are pretty sure
> You open your cabin and trot out onto the deck
> Three Sheets is already up in the rigging, the tauress’ teats gently undulating in the wind
> “Morning, Captain! It’s going to be a lucky day, I can feel it in my nips!”
> You roll your eyes
“You said the same thing the day we got chased out of Port Outsbutt.”
> Three Sheets grins
> “And I was right, I got to buck the governess’ son before we had to leave.”
“Which is why we had to leave. Get chummy and you’ll be chum, got it?”
> She salutes
> “Aye Aye cap’n!”
> You sigh and head to the mess
> Hard Tack ladles you a bowl of oatmeal and dried berries
> You nod your thanks to the unicorn mare
> As you dig in, you ask,
“How are we doing on rations?”
> Tack sits back on her thick flanks, rubbing her chin in thought
> “We’re good for about two months, longer if you let me bake biscuits.”
> You nod, that’s about what you figured
“We should be making port before then. And do I really need to tell you not to bake again?”
> She frowns
> “I think I figured out where I went wrong, if Keg would just let me use her flour stock…”
> You shake your head
“Experiment with your own bits. We don’t need culinary armor plates right now.”
> Hard Tack sighs and goes back to stirring the pot of oatmeal
> You finish your bowl and leave it in the bucket to soak
> Powder Keg wanders in, and you still can’t get over her appearance
> Built like a Canterlot noble, tall and slim, but her tail cut indecently short and yet still singed at the ends
> You tune out their bickering as you head to the back of the Shameless Sloop
> You haul the anchor up, grinning as you bring all of your earth pony strength to bear on the winch wheel
> It’s always a relief to really exert yourself in something and not risk bucking a hole in your ship
> You slow down as the water bulges under the chain and the anchor begins to break the surface
> When it is fully out, you pull the brake on the winch and trot up to mare the helm
> Sheets gives you a nod, and you call out mostly for the sake of the other two of your crew
“Unfurl the main and head!”
> 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
> The Shameless Sloop jerks forward, plowing through the sea
> Let’s see what the new dawn holds

> A fussy merchant vessel, it would seem
“Keg! Fire a warning shot across his bow!”
> The unicorn grins, her horn lighting with a baleful red
> The cannon thunders as it launches the iron ball, just barely clipping the rails of the merchant ship
> A moment later, they answer with a shot aimed at your deck
> You gallop to where it would hit and pivot, leaning forward
> Your hind legs bunch up, hooves close together and waiting for…
> With a metallic clang, the cannonball hits your hooves just as you buck, sending it back into side of the merchant vessel
“Keg, clear their deck!”
> A dozen clay pots arc across the water and shatter across the barque’s deck, covering it in a haze of flour dust
> Then Keg’s fuses ran down and fire bloomed
> Not much later, the merchant runs a white flag, and you bring the Sloop along side and swing across
> You land on a sooty wasteland, still warm and embers glowing along the edges
> 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
> You come to a stop before her, your hardtack vest clattering dully
“I’m glad you have come to see reason. Now, let’s see your cargo.”
> The captain nods and trots down below decks
> You follow her down, keeping an eye out for any-
> 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
> You grunt at the impact, then buck the wall down
> Among the splinters and shards of wood, you find a dazed mare, barely grown from a filly into a mare
> You kick the pistol away from her and glance at the captain, who has grown quite pale
> “Mercy, good pirate. Please...spare my daughter, this is her first encounter on the high seas.”
> You take another look at the fallen mare, and you can see the resemblance
> You frown
“She broke your flag of truce, I should make an example of her to keep such underhanded dealings at bay.”
> The captain begins to sweat
> You look her in the eye
“You are a mare of honor, are you not?”
> She swallows
> “I am.”
> You nod
“Give the filly a good birching, once I leave. And we’ll be taking your entire stock of flour, among other things.”
> That should make Tack happy
> The captain untenses
> “I’ll see it done myself.”
> You nod, and start sniffing around the cargo hold

> The haul is decent, a few cases of rum, plenty of spices, a gilded jewelry box, and some useful maps
> Most of their hold is full of iron ore, which you leave alone
> Still, nothing that would qualify for Sheet’s forecast of Discord’s Luck
> Leagues later, the smell of flour being tortured into ceramic fills the air, and you are beginning to get nervous
> 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
> You glance up at Three Sheets
> She’s wrapping her teats down, a grim expression on her face
> “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.”
> You turn to stare at the horizon, and the dark cloudbank looming, small black specks flitting around it
> Your heart drops
> You had thought you were keeping things low-key, hitting small targets and keeping on the move
> But it seems the Crown has decided to nip you in the bud
“Trim the sails! Batten down the hatches!”
> You grip the wheel grimly
> A normal storm, you could heave to and ride out
> A Pegasus-driven one…
> This may be the end for you and the Shameless Sloop
> The winds rise, whipping the brine into the air
> A great hiss fills the air as rain sheets into the rolling sea
> You steer as best you can, angling into the wind
> The rain splatters against you, instantly soaking you to the bone
> Thunder begins to roll as the Royal Airforce builds up charge
> A pale blue light glows from the top of the mast
> Then everything goes white as the sky’s wrath comes down
> You close your eyes and hold the wheel as strike after strike comes crashing down
> The mast groans and topples over, then more and more of your precious ship is blasted apart by lightning
> Then one bolt touches off the gunpowder, and the last thing you hear is a deep bellow of rage and loss

> You are Squadron Leader Cross Winds, and today is a good day
> The intel on the movements of the Firestorm Pirates was spot on, and the storm is making quick work of their ship
> You start to give the orders to breaking up the clouds, but then you hear a deep, distinctly male voice roar
> Your heart drops
> There was a stallion on that ship?
> Was he a hostage, crew, stowaway?
> You dive through the clouds and pull up at what you see
> What parts lightning blasted away are now restored in pale green fire
> The Shameless Sloop’s cannons turn of their own accord, rising-
“Evasive maneuvers!”
> Your squadron scatters as the skies erupt with ghostly fireballs
> You punch through the cloud and streak back to the rendezvous point
> You aren’t looking forward to explaining this to your superiors

> You are somehow the very alive Captain Bad Apple
> You come to as the last of the storm dissipates to the aft of the ship
> Speaking of, it’s a bit different than you remember
> You poke your hoof near the green wheel of flame that used to be the helm
> It’s warm, but not hot
> “Oh, you’re up.”
> You turn to see a translucent figure, some sort of minotaur bull?
“Ah, welcome aboard my ship?”
> He grins
> “The other way around, actually. It’s so nice that you can finally see me.”
> You blink
“Are you the spirit of the Shameless Sloop?”
> He shrugs
> “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?”
> You rub your face
“I need a drink.”
> Anon laughs
> “Good choice.”
> You head into the mess to find the rest of your crew had the same idea
> Three Sheets grins at you
> “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.”
> You raise your eyebrows
“I guess that means we don’t need you at all. That is some good luck.”
> Sheets sticks her tongue out at you
> “Please, you’d be lost without my tits.”
> Anon nods seriously.
> “She makes a good point, her tits are pretty necessary.”
> You facehoof
"The spirit of the Shameless Sloop is a shameless slut."
> "Can you blame me? I have had nothing to do for decades except ogle my crew and soothe their dreams."
> Hard Tack blinks
> "So the reason why I always have face-sitting dreams while I'm on the ship…"
> Anon grins
> "You're welcome."
> The crew blushes, and you aren't immune either
> 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
> You walk to the opened case of rum and grab yourself a bottle
> As you sit down, Keg sidles up to you
> "Cap'n, something's bothering me…"
> You look at her questioningly
> She runs her hoof through her short-cropped mane
> "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."
> You swallow a mouthful of rum, but that does little to ease your mind
"Might be best to avoid anything strenuous, then. At least until we see how this all shakes out."
> Keg nods, and knocks back the rest of her drink
> She ambles over to the case and-
> Wait, shouldn't it be half empty by now?
> Keg grabs a bottle and you stare as another one takes its place with a shimmer of faint green light
> You take a sip of your rum, rolling it around on your tongue
> It’s a good apple rum, not unlike what your estranged family would brew
> No strange aftertastes, no trace that it might not be all that it seems
> You turn your attention to Anon and Sheets as they flirt openly
> Sheets has her arm around the ghost, pressing his face into the side of her teat
> You can’t see where Anon’s hands are, but the blush Sheets is sporting gives you some idea
> You clear your throat
> Sheets snaps to attention, and Anon pouts
“Anon, how much longer can you keep the ship whole like this?”
> He scratches his chin
> “A while? I can feel a bit of strain keeping it together, but it’s pretty light even after a half a day.”
> You nod
“Even so, our first priority is stopping to make repairs. The nearest port is…”
> You try to remember the map
> Anon’s eyes unfocus
> “Trampa Bay, should take us about a day and a half to get there. Course set.”
> The Shameless Sloop groans as it adjusts its heading
> You blink
> Sheets might not be the only one out of a job
“Right. Good. Um. Is there anything else we can do to keep your energy up?”
> Even if you fix the ship, at least Keg would be in trouble if Anon wore himself out
> Sheets pats you on the withers
> “We discussed it and decided that you should get first dibs, being the captain and all.”
> You raise an eyebrow at her, then look at Anon
> He’s blushing prettily
> “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this.”
> You lick your lips
> Time to boldly go where no mare has gone before
“Let’s take this to my cabin.”


> By the time the Sloop docks at the Trampa Bay harbor, you are glad you have such a hearty, vigorous crew
> Anon doesn’t need to sleep, eat, or drink
> More ominously, neither do the rest of you, though you still do so out of habit and for the joy of it
> You walk down the gangplank and set hoof onto the dock
> And promptly stop, as your leg withers to the bone
> You pull your leg back and are relieved to see it restored to pristine condition
> It seems the sea has claimed you after all
> You call out to one of the loitering wharf rats, paying her a piece of six to run a message to the lumber mill
> You’re determined to make the best of it, and thinking back to the night before…
> The best of it is pretty damn good

> You are Princess Luna, reading yet another report about the activities of the Shameless Sloop
> Waylaying vessels for delicacies and booze, yet only stealing a trivial amount of the ship’s stock
> Disappearing below the waves whenever a patrol comes by
> Floating above cannon and spellfire range, making obnoxiously loud sex noises throughout the night
> You sigh and set the report aside
> With any luck, Celestia and her galleon full of desserts will persuade them to turn privateer
> If you are going to have an immortal band of eccentric pirates roaming the seas, they may as well be on your side