Stalliongrad [Stabil Krasnyi] Morals and Mariners. [Closed]

[Pony_Sage]

Stalliongrad; The jewel of the North, so far North in fact that it lay outside of the control of the Imperial Weather Teams that controlled the weather all throughout the great land of Equestria. It would rain, snow, the Sun would shine, the wind would blow, all according to the whims of nature, but the inhabitants were used to this, of course. Today nature had a penchant for snow, and that’s exactly what it did. The heavy wet snow fell from the cloudy sky at a moderate pace. Any Imperial pony would have thought it to be a blizzard, but to the denizens of Stalliongrad it was nothing more than a moderate inconvenience.

One such denizen, a middle aged mare to be more specific, actually enjoyed the snow. She loved how it felt upon her pelt, how the little flakes sent sensations of stinging up her nose before melting into nothing but water. Veracity stood in the conning tower, alone, with her head facing up towards the sky and her eyes closed. This was how she relaxed, she would let the wind sweep past her, close her eyes, and just forget that anything below her existed. As usual, on these trips, she had her mane undone from it’s tight hunter braids and let it flow with the wind; it’s moderate silky black length gently following the whims of the wind.

Being that Veracity was off duty at the moment, she had all the time in the world to just relax and let the snow fall upon her.

‘Maybe I’ll get a drink.’ She thought to herself as the wind changed direction and brought with it the smells of the Kuznitza District.

‘Home.’ She thought as memories of her fillyhood danced about in her head. ‘Those were the days, no need to worry about anything. I didn’t even have to decide what I was going to have for lunch, let alone what to do with a ship in combat.’

The last week had been a stressful one. Veracity was in charge of the Rapid Offensive Vessel [ROV] ‘Moral Constraints’, a top of the line frigate that was under the control of Komandovanie Operatsii: Granitsy (KOG). The had recently been modified for a very specific purpose in a double classified mission, and being the captain of her it was Veracity’s job to put the ship through it’s paces and performance tests before it would be recertified as safe for battle.

The Moral Constraints had splashed down and docked at the Stabil Krasnyi docks only about two hours before, after its grueling three day war game engagement over the frozen tundra. Of those days, Veracity had only slept for somewhere near four hours. It was well within her rights to want to relax for at least a short amount of time; anyway if the crew needed her they could just call up to her through the intercom system. This time was hers and hers alone. The snow continued to fall all around the mare, deadening the sounds of the ship creaking in the river, the wind whistling through the mooring lines, deadening everything. Quiet. Quiet was something that you rarely experienced on an airship, especially one such as the Moral Constraints. Veracity could still hear a faint ringing in her ears from when they had done the live fire test of the twin linked fore-cannons. Those monsters were loud if you stood on deck when they were firing, let alone right next to them. All the live fire tests went smashingly, every weapon blister and cannon emplacement had out performed specifications and then some. The engines worked perfectly, even at speeds exceeding the ship’s published maximums.

‘I’m going to have to thank that little mare in person one of these days.’ Veracity noted mentally. ‘She did a tremendous amount of work in such a short time, and everything works perfectly! She did in five months a job that would have taken over a year here in the Krasnyi retrofitting yards.’

There was a nagging thought at the back of the roan mare’s mind as she stood there letting the snow pile up on her withers.

‘Was there something that I was supposed to do today? I’m so tired that I honestly can’t remember. Well, if it was important I would have remembered it, right?’ She reassured herself with an audible chuckle. The smooth and light laugh seemed to cut its way through the deadening snow, cascading across the weather deck of the resting ship.

[Bannhammer]

His grey jacket tossed and rustled in the biting wind. Tassels on the collar jumped and flittered about as the stallion tried to hide from the cold. Germaney had winters, cold ones, but this... this was apocalyptic!

“Verdammt kalt!”he muttered under his breath, pulling his outerwear closer against himself.

Martel Von Starkhuf stood there, on the docks, looking towards the ship he was expected to serve on. A massive thing, he found himself nearly gawking at it, but the cold kept him buried deep within his jacket.

On his side and back, he wore a large holster, containing a rather large hammer with comically small handle. His pride and joy, Zornstahl. He gave it a nervous brush with his braided tail before taking a few steps towards the ship.

A ramp led up to the deck, and after taking a moment to collect his thoughts, Martel began the short trek. Large size notwithstanding, it was something else that would make his presence known.

-CLANK-

-CLANK-

The stallion boasted a large frame, packed with muscle, but it was not his defining feature. From birth, he found himself missing his rear left leg. In its place he had a metal replacement, connected to the rest of his body with a brace. The steel hunk slammed into the metal walkway, the sound resonating throughout the docks.

-CLANK-

During the long walk up, he began to think about his circumstances. The paperwork alone posed a daunting mountain, but that was to be expected. First he needed an assignement 4-K form from the Königlich Armee to the Kriegsmarine, then he needed a PD-7a form in order to get transferred to anti-piracy operations with the KOG.

After all that, here he was, bording a massive ship with the intention of stopping pirates.

-CLANK-

Soon enough, he stood upon the deck. Martel’s officer cap rested upon his wavy mane, both covered in snow as he looked around the deck. His back and jacket were similarly weighed down by the icy downpour, but he paid it no mind. He was used to wearing chainmail, a little snow and ice would not weigh him down.

He wanted to shout, make his presence known to the ponies that seemed to busy with their duties to acknowledge him. Instead, Martel simply stood there, motionless, upon the deck battered with wind and snow.

[Pony_Sage]

As the roan mare stood on the conning tower, eyes closed and wind playing with her hair, a metallic noise sliced through the silence.

-CLANK-

-CLANK-

‘What in the name of Celestia is that?’ She thought, her nose wrinkling and eyes closing more tightly with each clank.

‘I really hope that the engineers didn’t drop a spanner in the gears again, we would be out of comission for Luna knows how long if we stripped a gear.’ She winced as another clank was heard.

-CLANK-

-CLANK-

Then as suddenly as it had come, the clanking stopped. Veracity’s ears stopped twitching and she returned to her contemplative state. The ponies on deck were another story. Although their duties came first, most of which was slush and snow mopping due to the weather, they couldn’t help but notice the royal purple pony that was now standing on their gangway. A rather dull sounding petty officer addressed the stallion and noting his officer’s cap, saluted him. After a few inconsequential words of introduction, the petty officer escorted the stallion up to the brow where the Petty Officer Of The Watch was stationed. The POOW saluted Martel and after some chit chat and a checking of papers, he had the dull petty officer lead Martel to the bridge.

The bridge of the Moral Constraints was a rather unique room. The ship’s helm consisted of a large mahogany wheel and an engine order telegraph, which was customary, but where it differed was the amount of switches, knobs, and toggles that were also around the helm, not to mention the gauges and indicators. The most interesting part of the helm was that there were two other smaller wheels. One faced fore and aft at a perpendicular angle to the deck and the other sat atop the helm, parallel with the plane of the decking. It must have taken a huge amount of training to get somepony used to this sort of navigation in three dimensions. From just a brief glance at the controls one could tell that this was a very advanced ship. Martel was instructed to stand in a portion of the room that was out of the way until the captain arrived. The Seastallions brushed his coat off and swept up the slush and snow that he had tracked in.

A crackling noise came over the intercom, interrupting Veracity’s quiet contemplation. “Captain Veracity …” There was a pause and a cracking noise, “... Ma’am there is a pony here for you. Apparently he is a new transfer to our ship. The documents concerning his rank are classified, however he is wearing an officer’s cap. Over and out.”

“Gorramit! That’s what I had forgotten, the new First Officer was due in today. Proklyatiye, Proklyatiye, Proklyatiye.” The mare’s eyes snapped awake and she began to brush off the snow and slush from her uniform.

“I don’t even have time to put my hair back into its braids. The crew never sees me like this.” She muttered to herself, making sure that at least her patented bumperbangs were in perfect shape. She picked up the microphone.

“Understood.” She replied before launching herself into the sky with one swift flap of her rather large wings. As she flew her hair snapped and protested behind her neck.

‘This is why I keep it in a braids.’ She noted as she reached the port side bridge deck. She straightened her uniform again, made sure that her hat, rapier, and bangs were in place and then snapped to attention to get her muscles all loosened up. She very rarely ever appeared before her crew with anything less than an absolutely perfect regulation attire, let alone her hair not being in its braids. She felt that it was unprofessional to have hair flying all over the place, especially on an active airship and she liked to lead by example.

‘Well, just once can’t hurt. They all knew I was on break after all.’ She told herself as she squared her shoulders and put on her most stoic Captain face.

The roan mare strode confidently into the wheelhouse. As she did so she heard the customary call of;

“Officer on deck!” from one of the ponies at their stations on the bridge.

A bosun whistle sounded and the bridge snapped to attention facing Veracity. Even though some of the more senior crew would have been shocked to see her with her hair down, they didn’t let it show on their faces as they stood, stationary as statues.

The rather stern looking and what can only be described as intimidating mare walked up the the purple stallion and stood square in front of him, staring into his eyes with her own stark blue eyes. She was waiting for him to introduce himself as was customary upon boarding a military vessel.

[Bannhammer]

Martel stood on deck, realizing that his stomping and clanking had drawn some attention. Ponies pushing slush off the deck stopped to stare, and a pony with rank approached. The stallion instinctively adjusted his position, trying to keep his metal hoof out of view. Hopefully such a deformity would prove inconsequential to them.

A pony quickly approached, offering a salute. Martel returned the gesture, pulling out his papers from a saddle bag.

”Martel Von Starkhuf, reporting.”

“I hope you brought warmer clothes, Vizefeldwebel Von Starkhuf...” the petty officer mumbled, reading through the file riddled with black lines.

The mercenary turned officer pretended not to hear the comment, simply nodding as the Petty Officer lead him towards the bridge. He wiped his muzzle, brushing the cold dampness away as he entered the heated room. The sheer amount of tech astounded him, and Martel had to do a double take to make sure he had it right.

How could something have so many dials and switches? A part of him felt intimidated by the sight, but half of him felt thrilled. if he had the chance to learn how it all worked, he would seize it!

His focus shifted elsewhere as he waited. Ponies swarmed him, cleaning and brushing off his jacket and cap. The action amused him, but he did appreciate it. Martel appreciated cleanliness, punctuality, and certainly authority. Though, the fact that the captain was not here to greet him was disconcerting.

A whistle sounded, and while Martel had no experience with ship protocols, he snapped to attention as soon as everypony else did. He stared straight ahead, grey eyes gazing into the wall. Out of the corner of his vision, he noted the mare who entered. Flowing mane, messy jacket, neither gave Martel confidence.

Despite all that, the look in her eyes told him everything he needed to know about this mare.

He thrusted the folder towards her, still gazing straight ahead.

”Vizefeldwebel Von Starkhuf, reporting!” he didn’t shout by his standards, though to most ponies his words rang out loudly. Their eyes met, stark blue boring into steely grey. If his eyes could speak, they would speak of strength of will, an unwillingness to back down, but a respect for power.

[Pony_Sage]

The purple stallion’s voice boomed in the small wheelhouse.

”Vizefeldwebel Von Starkhuf, reporting!” He seemed to shout while thrusting a military dosier at Veracity.

Veracity snatched the binder without breaking eye contact. ‘I like this stallion already; you can see it in his eyes. He is first mate material.’ She thought before looking down, breaking the seal on the eyes only classified personnel binder, and opening it to read. As she read she walked around the stallion, looking him over while she stated some of his commendations.

“The Military Merit Cross, Knight Order of the Germane Crown, and the Badge of Honor from Germaney. From Stalliongrad, The Order of Glory (Third Class). From Itaily the Medaglia d'Argento. Last but not least, a Distinguished Service Cross from Equestria.” The mare paused to look him in the eye before hefting the binder like it had some weight behind it.

“So, you’re my new recruit, are you?” She said with a practiced tone of incredulity. During her once over she had found his uniform to be in perfect condition and that he held himself very strongly and stoically, she wanted to test this.

“Do you know that you come very highly recommended? I was practically told that I was to have you on my ship as my first mate. This jacket here?” She waved the dossier again, “I haven’t seen one this dolled up since my years on the Aquellian fronts.” The mare threw the binder down on a nearby workstation.

“All those medals, those recommendations, those commendations; those are nice, but they don’t tell me who you are. Vizfeldwebel Martel Von Starkhuf.” Veracity’s tone was stern but not overly so, she seemed to have a point to make and she wanted to make it. She was prodding the stallion, albeit verbally, to see what exactly made him tick.

“After all, you can’t trust those dossiers, they are always exaggerating the truth. Especially when somepony greases the right hooves.” The mare looked him dead in the eyes, squared up to his shoulders, and stood only inches from his face.

“So … who are you?” She asked smugly whilst pulling out a soft pack of Lucky Bucks, pulling one out with her teeth, and looking to a nearby Petty Officer to light it for her.

[Bannhammer]

The stallion’s expression hardened as Captain Veracity looked him over. Probably trying to find some sort of weakness or flaw in his stance, his demeanor. He would not give her the pleasure of discovering a single fault.

He felt a twinge of nervousness as she circled, the stallion unused to being examined as if he were some kind of exhibit on display. The ordeal was made even worse as she began to list his accomplishments. While Martel took pride in his commendations, he never felt the need to brag or even mention them when he could help it. That came partially from a desire to show some sort of humbleness, but part of it came from the fact that his name played a large part in those medals being awarded.

Martel knew that his actions had earned him some sort of recognition, but more often than not he would get a high level commendation simply because he was a Von Starkhuf. While it certainly provided a boost to his resume, it gave little comfort to the stallion.

She asked him a question, but the purple pony remained stoic, gazing straight ahead as she continued on. Veracity tossed the dossier onto a workstation, and proceeded to make some very good points.

“So … who are you?”

Who was he? Who was he?

Wasting no time, Martel gave his response. “I am a soldier, a fighter. I am fighting to win, every time. I am a second pair of eyes and your right hoof. I'm the stallion willing to be saying 'no' when everypony else is saying 'yes'. You are my captain, yes, but do not think that I am a mindless pony to lick boots and nod my head. So who am /I/? I am your first mate, and most importantly..."

As the mare waited for her cigarette to be lit, Martel reached into the front right pocket of his officer’s jacket. He pulled out a lighter, flicked it open, and quickly lit it for the captain to use.

With a grin, Martel finished, ”I am always prepared.”

[Pony_Sage]

“I am your first mate, and most importantly… I’m always prepared.”

Was the statement that she was looking for. She leaned in with a bemused look upon her countenance and took a few drags on the cigarette to get it properly lit from his lighter. ‘This is the kind of stallion I was looking for. This is the stallion I need on my bridge.’ She thought to herself while taking a long drag. Exhaling she smiled at the stallion, something that she rarely did when on duty or for that matter otherwise. Smoke curling out of the corners of her mouth. What Martel might not have noticed was that when she had slapped the dossier down on the workstation, she had put it so that the Captain’s intercom was in the on position. What this stallion had just said had been broadcast throughout the entire ship. Everypony that was aboard had heard what this stallion had said. He had better get used to that, being that he was new first mate. Veracity leaned towards the microphone with a wry smile upon her face.

“You hear that crew? That was your first mate speaking, you all better get used to him, he is going to be here for the long haul. Now, carry on.” The mare spoke into the microphone never breaking eye contact with Martel, a little glint could be seen in her eye.

-KERCHLICK-

She spoke with authority, but in a more softer tone than she had been addressing him before. Walking up to the stallion she stuck out a hoof, “You’re hired.” She said simply.

“I was looking for a stallion like you, and it seems I have found one that fits the bill. Your tenacity, your strength of will and body, and most importantly, your loyalty will be required for this mission.” Her smile fell into a cold countenance.

“You are now, Commander Martel Von Starkhuf, second in command of the Moral Constraints [ROV] of the VSS. Should I fail in my duties as captain, it is your responsibility to take my place. Do you understand and accept the responsibilities and duties that come along with this position?” She asked, knowing full well the answer that would come from this stallions lips. She felt that she could trust this stallion, not only to do his duty, but more importantly, to keep a weather eye on her blind spots.

“Since you are currently off duty, would you like a tour of the ship? I can give you the grand tour if you like. There isn’t much going on whilst the engineers tune the engines. Also, do you have any luggage, if so I shall have it taken to your new quarters.” Veracity clopped a hoof on the deck boards and two enlisted ponies immediately snapped to attention next to her. She looked over at Martel, awaiting his orders for the Seastallions.

[Bannhammer]

Martel afforded himself a grin, shaking his head slightly at her use of the intercom. This mare certainly knew what she wanted, and this one seemed tough enough to get it. That kind of stunt impressed him, and he made sure to take a mental note of it. As his Kapitan, he would have to follow her orders to the best of his abilities, and he could tell that he would have no problem doing just that.

She stuck out her hoof, and he gripped it tightly. "Glad to be aboard, Kapitan." He spoke with a certain force behind his words, not contention or arrogance, just a simple strength that boomed with every syllable.

When her expression fell, his remained light hearted. While she seemed cold and serious, Martel held a small smile. "If the time comes, I will assume full responsibility and command over this ship and the lives upon it."

Veracity offered a tour, and he simply nodded. "I would be appreciating it. I am not used to ships, and I want to know every nook and cranny." That wasn’t entirely true, as he had been on an airship before, but that experience was not something he wanted to recall or repeat.

Martel looked towards the two ponies and calmly gave them instructions for his luggage. As they hurried off, he turned towards his captain.

"I am hoping that my... um... condition, was being mentioned in the dossier...The ship can handle this, yes? I won't be falling through decks?"

The stallion made sure to point towards his metal leg as he spoke.

[Pony_Sage]

Veracity was happy that Martel was already getting used to giving the Seastallions orders. After the two parted the stallion asked a rather reasonable question about his handicap, however Veracity did not care in the slightest about his condition. She had knew that he could command the ship, and even watch her six when in battle. The roan mare made no indication of even noticing his brace while she walked past.

“And what would that condition be, Commander?” She asked flatly with a wry smile.

The captain walked to the other side of the wheelhouse to exit. Since she had never taken formal command of the ship, the Captain of the Watch would still be in control of the situation. Soon this would be Martel’s job, and hopefully he would enjoy it. However as Veracity exited the wheelhouse, she always liked to make sure that everything was in order.

“Leytenant, u vas yest' most!” She ordered. A “Da madam!” reply was quick to follow.

A narrow staircase lead to the main deck of the Moral Constraints. For anypony who was afraid of heights, this was not the job to be working. Most of the catwalks and staircases that lined the outside of the hull of the ship were made of very rigid steel mesh, for aerodynamic and buoyancy purposes. Veracity stood with her back to the bow of the ship, and her feet shoulder width apart. She was in the quintessential square stance that was expected of every VSS Officer. She waited for Martel to join her before starting her speech.

“The ship you see before you is the Moral Constraints, she is the best of the best and top of the line. Stalliongrad made airframe, Inquisitor class Rapid Offensive Vessel, ROV for short. Her central envelop houses Aether Reactive Gas, none of that lighter than air nonsense. Much more buoyancy with ARG which means we can have iron scantlings and steel armour; along with a heavier gross tonnage. This girl can shrug off a full broadside from all but a Sovereign or Tallon class cruiser. She makes, officially mind you, 25 knots on water and 130 kph in the air. Unofficially, the little unicorn who pretty much rebuilt this ship from the keel up certified the engines for 40 knots and 180 kph, but we haven’t pushed her that hard quite yet. Her length from bow to stern is 141 meters, a beam of 14 meters, draft of 10 meters, and a fully loaded displacement of somewhere near 3,800 tonnes. She is a formidable ship, and was specifically designed for one purpose.”

Veracity took a long drag on her cigarette, the acrid smoke stinging her lungs slightly. As she exhaled smoke curled and twisted on the wind forming gossamer sprites, “Hunting pirates…” She trailed off along with the smoke. An odd glint could be seen in her eye upon saying this.

[Bannhammer]

The stallion shrugged, smiling to himself. Most ponies would take a second glance at his leg, usually followed by a hollow apology or a nervous smile. Honestly, Martel expected Veracity to react in such a way. But she seemed to pay it no mind, which was what he wanted. Some ponies may underestimate him because of his leg, but they didn't live long enough to regret it. The fact that this mare respected him, or was simply decent enough to play it off made him feel that much better about it all.

As they walked, he took mental notes of everything. Making sure to memorize displacement, tonnage, speed, draft, everything. As first mate, he would help her run the ship. If something went wrong, he would take command. There would be no excuse for not knowing each and every inch of the vessel. In order to properly fulfill his duties he had to know everything about this ship.

She stopped, taking a long drag, and Martel simply watched. He used to smoke, and with the frigid conditions, he idly considered taking it up again. After a prolonged glance towards the cigarette, he looked off into the distance. Her smelled acrid, and the biting sting of the smoke elicited a tiny wince. If he was to smoke again, he would have to bring in the brand he liked.

Martel nodded to her words. It seemed they shared an immense hatred of pirates, probably for different reasons. Hopefully, she would never find out his personal vendetta against pirates, that would not be in everypony's interests.

"Kapitan, it would be a pleasure to hunt pirates on this great ship." He grinned, feeling a bit excited at the prospect. "They will be knowing what hit them, they just won't be able to stop it."

[Pony_Sage]

“That is EXACTLY the kind of spirit I want on this ship. The enlisted men could learn a thing or two from you.” She said idly staring at the stallion, thoughts wandering briefly.

“Where are my manners. I am Captain Veracity, 10th battalion Orlov.” She proffered him the soft pack of Lucky Bucks before continuing on the tour, “Care for one? You are off duty, and it is rather cold today. They might not be the best brand in all of Equestria, but I have yet to find a more efficient cigarette.”

They walked down gantries and staircases, through winding passages and bulkheads. Spiral staircases that lead to cramped crawlspaces. At each intersection Veracity would point out where they were and which passages lead where. She would also point out any items of interest or note that she could think of as they passed them. There of course were signs painted on the walls and coloured lines on the decking, but knowing a ship inside and out was a very important milestone; and this mare knew her ship from port to starboard and fore to aft. She had spent weeks if not months studying the layout and intricacies of every system of the ship. The farther that they continued into the bowels of the ship, the the more the humidity rose, and the ambient temperature increased incrementally.

There was a large set of double fire doors that they approached, impressive not only in size but in construction as well. Veracity unlocked the two doors and threw them open.

“This is my favourite part. I present to you, Engineering!” Once inside they had officially reached the engineering. The miasma of steam and engine grease hit them first, followed shortly by the heat and humidity. Oddly enough, it was rather quiet for an engineering bay on an airship. Veracity walked into the cramped and convoluted room. Towards the middle there was a workbench with what looked like blueprints spread out on it. She walked over to the bench and stood on one side of it, looking over the blueprints with a small smirk on her muzzle. “They will definitely know what hit them.” She said, mirroring Martel’s comment.

[Bannhammer]

Martel smiled, gratefully accepting one of the cigarettes. "Danke. I am used to cold, but this... this is something greater." He lit it himself, taking a long drag. It tasted foul, and the acrid smoke burned his mouth and lungs, but it warmed him up. Soon, he would need to get some of his preferred brand, but these would do for now.

After a quick breath, he followed suit. Continuing to note everything she said and pointed out. It would take a few days, but he swore to himself that he would learn every bit of this ship. His duties as first mate meant that he had the responsibility of running the ship on his shoulders, if anything went wrong, he had to know how to fix the problem.As they went deeper and deeper into the depths of the ship, he took off his jacket and carried it over one shoulder. His muscles rippled under his pelt, and a white undershirt covered his chest.

The stallion took pride in his physique, making up for his freakish deformity with physical strength and conditioning. While he lacked size compared to some of the massive ponies from other lands, he made up for it with unmatched power. He could snap steel and crush boulders if he needed to.

He grinned, nodding towards the equipment. While Germaney was a leader in industrial tech, such sights still astounded him. "Ja! I am not understanding it, but it is amazing! I have not seen such things in years... The soul of this ship is alive and well!”

[Pony_Sage]

Veracity looked across the bench at Martel, quite a specimen of the Germane Stallion. More muscular than an Imperial Stallion, but of about the same stature. Muscle of a Stalliongrad Stallion packed into an Imperial frame. ‘If he is one half as good as his jacket claims he his, I have myself the perfect first mate.’ She thought eyeing him a little longer. She then gestured to the machinery and tubing that surrounded them. “What you see here is the brainchild of one Miss Rivet of Hoofington. With the help of Northern Star Industries she and a crack team of engineers assembled from all over the Celestial Empire overhauled the old engines into what you see before you.” The engine room, despite having a working grime to it, was indeed in pristine condition. The brass even seemed to gleam slightly as though it was brand new. The majority of the out of place noise in the room came from a select few ponies who were milling about seeming to take readings from dials and gauges. However these ponies were much more interested in the conversation that was happening at the table than in what they were supposed to be doing. “You know that they say every angel has a halo? Well, this angel has five. These are the Halos, and with thirteen cylinders each those aft props spin so fast I doubt that the Celestial Sisters themselves could stop them.”

Veracity chuckled ever so slightly, this was most unusual for the mare. Some of the engineers that were pretending to work took notice and looked at her briefly before her icy gaze sent them back to their work, with only gossip to pass on. “There are also four ducted fans that you probably noticed on your way onboard. These,” She pointed to the blueprints with a hoof, “Here, here, here, and here. provide us with yaw, roll, and pitch control, and in a pinch they can be used to boost top speed. For lateral movement, we vent some of our surplus steam from special ports all along the length of the ship.” As she spoke Veracity pointed to specific locations on the blueprints to indicate where these subsystems were located. “Our displacement when operating on the water can be augmented with the ARG systems. This means that we can either sit lower in the water and pull a much larger draft, aiding our inherent stealth capabilities, and in a matter of moments we can raise to plane and increase our acceleration and top speed. Of course this is all while we are in the water. When we are airborne, that’s a completely different story. With a top speed of 180 kph, we are the fastest ship in the skies.” The mare felt an immense pride in her ship and the fact that she was charged with its use and safe keeping.

“Now, on to the defensive capabilities. While the mission of this ship is to keep the peace in the skies of Equestria, we are equipped with state of the art defensive weaponry. There are hardpoints with defensive capabilities studded the length of the ship. Also every crew cabin has either direct access or very close access to a port that leads to the outside of the ship. Finally, the crown jewel of the defensive systems. The twin linked forward cannons. They are of Stalliongrad design designation NS-45. Each has a sustainable rate of fire around two hundred sixty rounds per minute and they are arranged to fire one hundred eighty degrees out of phase with one another. This results in a sustainable rate of fire that is somewhere in the ballpark of five hundred twenty rounds per minute. With a maximum effective range of about four kilometers and a muzzle velocity of 780 meters per second, if we are in danger, we won’t be for long when these babies fire up.” She took another puff on her cigarette before grinding it out in an ashtray and lighting another. “Any questions, Martey?” She asked, seeing how he would respond to this informality. The engineers winced but looked on in sheer interest.

[Bannhammer]

The stallion practically buried his nose in all the equipment, trying his best to memorize and remember every detail. Far from a technical pony, Martel instead tried to remember general concepts. Engines, turbines, lateral thrusters... it all seemed to make sense, and over the next few days he'd read up all he could to make sure it all clicked. As first mate, responsibility fell to him to know this ship.

He turned to say something, and barely caught her eyeing him. Probably looking over the well built stallion.

Thankfully the hallways seemed large enough for him to move in, so that wouldn't be a problem. Raw power was the name of his game, and even the shortest glance could tell anypony that he had it in spades.

Martel twitched a little when she called him 'Martey'. It wasn't that he was unused to informalities, he just didn't expect them so soon. Part of him hated nicknames, in his culture, a pony's name was part of their heritage and lineage, not something to be *******ized. To change a pony's name could be considered an insult.

"Only one, Kapitan."

He plunged the cigarette into the ashtray and faced her again. "Another smoke?" Grinning, he held out his hoof.

She could call him whatever she liked as long as she was captain. He had more important things to call her out on.

[Pony_Sage]

Veracity actually allowed herself a laugh at this juncture. Maybe it was the weather, maybe it was the fact that she hadn’t slept for three days, or maybe it was the fact that this stallion understood who she was on a fundamental level, but it didn’t matter. She just had to laugh. Sliding him a loosey. The engineers jaw’s dropped almost to the floor. They had never heard the mare even snicker so much as actually laugh. They were flabbergasted, who was this new first mate?! “Martel, you and I are going to get along smashingly. I have yet to find a more competent and dedicated individual to serve this ship and her crew. It’s going to be an honour to serve with you.” She took another drag quickly looking about, sending the engineers back to work once again with an icy glare. She didn’t need the engineers to give away the fact that she was acting out of character. This was a calculated ploy on her part, by this juncture. The mare wanted to see how her new first mate, who would hold her life in his hands upon occasion, would react to different situations. Flexibility and adaptability is key, especially when presented with novel situations in the course of an engagement.

“I’ve taken the liberty of sending a copy of these blueprints, along with a few technical documents about crew capacity, armament, and complement, to your quarters. I’ve also had the Quartermaster set you up with a slightly larger cabin for you to stretch your legs in as it were. Not as big as mine I assure you, but still respectable.” She said in a jovial tone. “Speaking of smashingly. I see that you enjoy my cigarettes. I have half of a pack left. How about a little … bet …” She looked Martel dead in the eye with a discomforting gleam. “I assure you that this is a one time offer, you better not pass it up.”

[Bannhammer]

Martel blinked at the small laugh. From their first impression, he didn't find her the kind to laugh, but there she was. The mare seemed to be the serious type, one who shunned playfulness or anything that would detract from her ability to do her job.It was a pleasant surprise to find that she was capable of something other than icy glares. His only response was simply to continue grinning. He knew that he had to prove himself as a first mate before joking became a common occurrence, but some lightheartedness could make the introduction easier. When she shared her feelings, he nodded, completely in agreement.

"I am believing you are right. I will live up to your expectations and earn my place on this ship."

He accepted the cigarette and lit it up quickly. Taking a drag, he blew the smoke to the side and face Veracity again. He wore a slightly pained expression, probably due to the acrid and foul smoke. Germaney provided top tier cigarettes to its soldiers, with the officers getting the best of the best. It had been quite a while since he'd smoked an unfiltered mess such as this.

"Danke, A pony my size needs, eh... room." Martel chuckled and took another drag.

The Captain spoke again, and he raised an eyebrow. "A bet? Kapitan, losing in front of your crew would ruin the day, Ja?"

[Pony_Sage]

This stallion had guts, Veracity respected that. “Alright then Mister Starkhuf. Follow me please.” She said as she adjourned her seat and made for the bulkhead out of engineering. As they left the temperature and humidity dropped considerably. Being born and raised in the tundra that surrounded Stalliongrad Veracity was more than accustomed to the cold. ‘This is just what I need today, get my blood pumping again. I’ve been sitting around for far too long.’ She thought to herself as they trotted up to the main deck of the ship.

The snow was still falling on deck and the enlisted ponies were doing their best to clear it. When veracity popped up on deck from below the bosun whistle sounded two tones sharply and a call came over the intercom.

“Kapitan na palube!!” followed by the whistle shortly afterwards. All the ponies came to attention. Veracity waved a hoof and they returned to their duties. With a quick stretch she began to gallop around the deck to get the kinks out of her legs. Once she had completed two rounds she stopped in front of Martel and looked him dead in the eyes again.

“First blood. If I win, you owe me a keg of Stalliona Standard and four packs of Lucky Bucks. If you win, all your cigarettes from now on will be my treat.” She said this with a slightly too adamant and enjoyable tone in her voice, it would have been unsettling to the average pony. She twisted her neck from side to side and crunches could be heard as her spine decompressed and popped. “How does that sound to you … Marty.” She poked a hoof in his whither. As she made contact, she realized how well conditioned this stallion was. Her hoof felt as though it was pressing against a tree. 'My, my, my, he does seem to keep himself well maintained. I might actually have a fun fight on my hooves here.'