-... . .- ..- - .. ..-. ..- .-.. -... . .- ..- - .. ..-. ..- .-.. -... . .- ..- - .. ..-. ..- .-..

Still, they didn’t have to play the bells that loud, did they?

Well, there was worse. Compass’s fiancé and his family had brought seven Battle Barges with them. Loaded with blanks, they were to give a seven-gun salute to the newlyweds. The practice session managed to wake half the island up, despite the Barges being several kilometers away.

They were going to fire in the harbor, a few meters away from us. I was looking forward to having gauze in my ears for the next few days.

The dress that Mom had imposed on me before she ran back to the Goliath was a tragic night-blue. It didn’t help that both my mane and my coat was the same offsetting shade of azure. The star-shaped jewelry didn’t help either - I got the feeling that the dress was supposed to be for somepony else. At the very least, it matched my purple eyes. It did have a pretty collar, and it was longer than most dresses I’ve ever owned. The shoes were sparkly and glittery, if a bit uncomfortable. Never wearing shoes for your whole live then having them forced on you is not a pleasant experience. I still felt a little teetery waiting for Compass.

The dressmaker finally threw open the door, and out came Compass, as brilliant as ever. The wedding dress that the seamstress had to collaborate with the dressmaker on looked nothing short of perfect on my golden sister, even if the compass-rose shaped hairpin was a little offsetting. The white satin fit wonderfully over her golden coat - not a single wrinkle was there. The long train was embellished with small white roses, fresh-picked from our garden and just sewn on. What I’d thought to be a scarf when I first saw it was actually a magically-enchanted piece of cloth that floated above her neck and wound down her legs without actually making contact. I could see the faint red glow of the dressmaker’s energy - it was her, after all, who had activated the spell.

“What do you think?” she said with a smile.

“It looks... stunning,” I said. “Mom really overdid it this time.”

“Yep... heh. And you thought this was a scarf.”

She flicked the floating band with her hoof. A ripple formed at the very end of it and snaked its way up the cloth, where it teetered out at its apex.

She must’ve picked up on the flustered look on my face, because she said, “Oh, don’t worry. When you get married, Mom’ll really make a fuss.”

“More than she did with you?”

“Definitely. You’ll be stuck here for so long, Thread’ll be your best friend.”

The old dressmaker smiled, and waved her bony hoof towards the rack of white dresses on the wall, waiting for an occupant.

The thundering of hooves came from outside, Compass stretched her neck to look out the windows, set in the metal walls.

Dad was pulling a carriage, with Mom sitting in the back. White cloth and flowers hung from the shaded vehicle’s canopy, and Mom in her pristine pink dress was busy fanning herself. Strangely, Dad, who has pulling the carriage, lacked a single stain on his tuxedo, and his poofy brown hair was as poofy as ever.

I dizzily stepped outside first, squinting my eyes at the harsh sunlight. The sun was around the center of the sky now - high noon, and still not a cloud in the sky. Blue sky, blue sea, forever surrounded by an endless sphere of blue... heck, even my mom’s necklace was a blue sapphire.

Dad looked at me and winked. Mom smiled at we from behind the canopy, then stretched out a hoof to help me on. Her purple bangs brushed against my sea-blue waves, and I wobbily fell into the carriage. Then, Compass came out of the dark dressmaker’s shop, and Mom nearly had a fit. You should’ve seen her eyes - shining like radiant gemstones under a jeweler’s light. Of course, Mom was a jeweler - keyword was, because she worked with a different kind of jewel now - Zynthonite.

The same Zynthonite that burned away her mane and forced her to wear the purple bangs.

“Well, you certainly overdid it this time, Mom,” said Compass when she collapsed into the carriage, the Outpost’s bells still banging away like crazy.

“There is no such thing as ‘overdone’ in the context of a wedding, dear. You have to look your best. And I think you look absolutely stunning. More stunning than the island’s EMP missiles.”

“More beautiful than the explosions from a MIRV,” said Dad from the front. “Ready to roll?”

“Ride’em, horsey!” shouted Mom.

I have the funniest parents in the world.

The blind old organist played the off-key instrument with his magic flared. The somewhat disharmonic notes were still beautiful - the organist played the instrument so well that it seemed to bend to his will instead of his to its.

The crowd gathered on top of the massive floating hulk that was the Goliath solemnly waited for the song to end. Dad was already fidgeting, and Mom was trying her best not to scratch her wig. Heck, even Compass, who usually is prim and proud, was already looking side to side, as if if she wanted to find a way off the ship and take a swan dive with her fiancé , who stood next to her.

It was already late afternoon. Lunch had been served, and everypony was already yawning and checking the time. We would be stuck here until dinner, long after the rings were exchanged.

The barges were right outside the Goliath’s doubly-wide berth, guns pointed towards the shimmering open sea. After the organist played they would commence their volley, and Compass’s best friend would bring out the rings. That is, if the shaking and the sonic waves didn’t bend, break, or warp them. By Celestia, those cannons were loud.

The organist was around halfway through his piece - the slow and arduous tempo nearly patting me to sleep. One of the older ponies in the crowd was already asleep. I looked at Mom, who gave me a flat smile, and plastered the same dissatisfied grin on my face.

From the way Mom had fussed over it in the past few months, you’d have expected a lot more revelry, and a lot less waiting. A lot less waiting. I tried to enjoy the organ music, but the sheer off-keyness of the notes was extremely displeasing - and this was better than most organs, especially the groom’s - that was a true piece of junk. At the very least the Cs sounded like Cs, and the Ds weren’t too flat.

I could tell Dad was trying his best to wait for the cannon fire.

The organ was beginning to pick up now. The blind old pony’s hooves tickled the ivories with a newfound fervor. He began to slowly bob up and down, increasing his shaking along with the tempo of the music. The slow, berating tone revved up into a fast, jumpy blur of sound and color. What little of the off-keyness I could pick up was drowned out by the sheer speed of the piece. One or two ponies in the audience let loose shrill wolf-whistles, and some began to clap their hooves.

I was putting my hooves in my mouth to whistle along.

Then, suddenly, the music stopped in an ear-piercing blast of splintered wood and broken brass.

The old pony stopped his lively bob and stared forward with his blind eyes, dazed and confused. He looked around darkly, the drab grey eyes scanning over everypony in the audience. Dad, who was closest, trotted over to see what was wrong.

The way his eyes widened was enough persuasion to get me moving.

“Mortar! Get off the boat!”

I felt Compass slam into me as her worried hooves carried her over the edge. The shell began to emit a faint beeping noise. Just before Mom grabbed me by my collar and heaved us over the edge, I saw Dad magically toss the organist into the water before leaped over himself.

BOOM

Compass disappeared into the water a second before we did. Nearly missing the Goliath’s port-side pontoon, I slammed into the water, Mom following a second later. The water saturated the dress and puffed it up, and I felt it dragging me down. Not wanting to drown, I started kicking my hooves as hard as I could, pushing the murky brown water down until my waterlogged mane poked over the surface of the sea.

Slowly, we swam over to the dock, were a few workers and soaking-wet tuxedo ponies pulled us up. I felt my own hoof being gripped by a burly turret gunner, and nearly lost that leg when he heaved me up onto the platform...

BOOM

I was thrown back into the water as another explosion blasted the dock into smithereens. I saw Mom and Compass fly over me, a golden bullet followed by a purple one soaring over the water. Quickly, I reached for the surface again, and kicked vigorously - but my dress was too heavy, and my legs too weak. I barely could see the sky-blue sky before my energy gave out and I began to sunk.

Powerful legs reached into my armpits, and Dad was there, poofy hair still poofy despite the water. Grunting, he heaved me above the water and onto a floating piece of the dock, before depositing the organist next to me. He swam towards where Mom and Compass were supposed to be, but when the purple-lined wig bobbed up without an occupant, he charged straight for Compass.

I heard the whistling. Looking up, all you could see was a cloud of black mortar shells, whizzing randomly overhead. I watched a shell fly straight into the Outpost, the massive copper bells flying out with the ball of fire. I watched a shell fly into the schoolhouse, and the bits of metal that came out with it. I watched a shell slam into the earthen slopes, kicking up a massive cloud of dirt with it. The water began to shake with all the explosions.

Dad was under for a long time. I was beginning to wonder if I should dive in after him when he rose up, gasping, an unconscious Compass wrapped around his back. He roughly pointed at the shoreline where earth met metal, and began to swim towards it.

I looked back at the organist, who shrugged and dove in. I looked at the soaking remnants of the dress. Balling it up and throwing it away, I took off after the organist, following the tiny geysers of water that his rear hooves kicked up.

A big splash. I felt the salty sea water wash over my face. Looking back, I saw the finned tail of a mortar sinking into the sea. I felt my eyes widen. I swam harder.

The organist looked at me like I was crazy. I tried to get him to move faster, but his old bones moved as slow as he ever would. I looked at him one final time, but he couldn’t speed up any faster. I saw Dad drag Compass up to the beach and place his front hooves on her chest.

BOOM.

A tower of water came up behind me, and it rained for a few seconds. The organist was catapulted forwards towards the beach. Even I felt the shock wave throw me forward, and Dad watched with scared eyes as I flew for an instant and came smashing down hard in the water a few meters in front of him.

I pulled myself out of the water and climbed onto the beach. The organist was floating on top of the water. He wasn’t moving. Dad was pumping Compass’s chest with scared eyes, dribbles and drops of seawater and saliva coming out of her mouth.

“Come on, Compass... don’t die on me baby. Don’t die.”

He looked for me, his eyes locking on to my soaked blue coat.

“Skyla,” he said. “Help me. Please.”

I ran over to my sister, nearly falling into the water twice as mortar shells rocked the island. Placing my hooves on her chest, I began to push in rhythm with Dad, who's scared eyes grew more and more fearful by the minute.

BOOM

Even as the dirt fell on us we pushed harder. Some splattered on Compass’s face, and she began to cough. Dad had a smile building on his face as he hugged my sister tightly, her eyes opening as seawater flowed out of her mouth and onto Dad’s fluffy back.

He motioned for me to take off her dress, and I flared my magic. Invisible blue blades shimmered over the white fabric for a moment, before disappearing. The fabric fell off in sheets, the wet fur underneath barely affected by it.

Dad hoisted Compass to her feet. The ground shook fiercely as he charged up towards the town with my sister next to him. I tried to follow, but my head swiveled out towards the open sea.

It wasn’t so open anymore - glowing yellow vessels cut across the water as the downpour of mortar rounds came crashing down on us.

“Skyla!” shouted Dad. “Let’s go! No time to sightsee!”

BOOM.

The building next to me exploded. The heat felt very real.

And the whistling. The infernal whistling. The chorus of sharp, piercing sounds emanating from the torrent of high-arcing mortar shells that blotted out the sun, sky, and sea. Towers of water shot into the sky, accompanied by towers of earth and towers of splintered metal. The defense towers sent high-velocity shells towards the enemy fleet, and flak bursts filled the skies, fighting a losing battle against holy rain. Streaks of white flew across the sky as Sentinel-class anti-ship missiles sought out their targets. The air was filled with the scent of death - burning gasoline, gun smoke, and blood.

Dad shouted silently, and I found that my ears no longer registered sound. There was only a mind-shattering whine.

Up, down, left, right, death and fire was everywhere. Dad and Compass in front. Energy to legs. Running. Whistling. Ringing. Whining. Shattering stone and splintering wood. Sweat. Pain. Force.

Dad charged forwards through the smoke clouds, followed closely by Compass and I.

What the hell was going on?

BOOM.

The building in front of us collapsed in a ball of fire, and Dad swerved hard to the left. We could barely see him - his ash-grey coat blended in perfectly with the equally dark smoke. Small flames and loud screams penetrated the smoke screen as I stared at his cutie mark, ignoring the flames that were burning my own legs, and galloping over the cobblestone streets that were once so filled with life.

Cracking wood. Dad swerved again, narrowly avoiding a falling tree.

We swerved right after him. A whizz of air, and a shell found the building that the tree had fallen on.

A pony ran past, eyes wide with fear, tears and blood pouring equally steadily off his face.

A mortar landed right in front of me. My heart stopped for an instant.

Dad looked back and screamed at us to move. I did.

Compass was right behind me as the shell exploded.

I felt sometime heavy... and warm fall on me. I scratched at the ground, trying to get on my hooves, but it was too heavy. I looked back, and Compass’s soulless eyes stared into my own.

“Compass!” shouted Dad.

I kicked at my sister as hard as I could, but she wouldn’t move.

“Dad!” I cried out.

Strong hooves lifted Compass off me - Dad and his soot-covered poofy hair was here.

BOOM

Dad was suddenly visible in the smoke for an instant. I saw a defense tower lose its cannon, following its reinforced armor plating into the cobblestone earth.

BOOM

Dad lifted Compass’s lithe form onto his back. She was already starting to lose color. He pointed forwards, and I began running. A pair of laden-down hooves echoed against the stones behind me.

“Turn right!”

I swerved to the right, into a path that led down to the beach. The building at the corner got its roof sliced clean off as a shell found its mark. The street was littered with unexploded shells. I gulped and ran harder, tears, blood, and sweat leaking off my face now.

“Left here! Left here!”

The line of buildings blocked the sea out again. I turned into the street and looked back - Dad was behind me, although much further. He was sweating furiously- Compass wasn’t helping.

The ground shook vigorously.

A tower of stone and earth rose into the air, its transient life expiring in an instant.

I couldn’t. No. I had to stop. From the looks of it Dad needed to too. He set Compass down against the wall of a still-intact building, and tried to catch his breath.

He extended his hooves, and I tried to hug him.

“Dad... what’s going on?”

His breath was raspy and shallow, as if he was going to pass out. He started stroking my hair as if I was a little filly. And I might’ve as well been one, because Dad’s eyes were dots.

“I... I don’t know, Skyla,” he said.

He looked at Compass, who didn’t move. His eyes moved from her lifeless face to the somewhat large pool of blood forming under her.

“Dad... Dad... I wanna go home.”

“I know, Skyla. We all do.”

He let go, and stared around nervously. Then, almost magically, he composed himself. A blink, swallow and stretch later, and his eyes were back to their usual lustre. He took one last look at Compass, then back at me. His mouth was open and his tux undone. A huge circle of blood was on his back, where Compass had sat.

“We’re going to the sub pen.”

I nodded, too scared to talk. He then pushed me forwards, and I sprinted into the smoke, Dad following me.

BOOM

I looked back just as Dad threw himself into me. I bit my lip as I crashed into the stones.

The building had collapsed on him.

Shit shit shit shit shit....

I immediately flared my magic and began throwing off bits and pieces of the rubble.

I heard breathing. I dug harder.

BOOM

There he was, eyes closed, legs limp, horn hanging by a thread. His shallow, raspy breaths barely made any sound. A long, heavy reinforcement pin held him against the ground, made of pure iron.

BOOM

He lifted his left hoof, and placed it on my shoulder.

“Skyla...”

“Dad. Dad. I’m here.”

“Skyla... you.. have to-”

Every word he said only make him cringe wider.

“I’m not going to leave you, Dad.”

“Skyla... no... you can’t.”

BOOM

“No. I’m going to get you out of here. We’re leaving here alive. Come on, push”

I flared my magic again and tried to lift the column off him.

“Skyla... you... have to go alone.”

Heat. Flame.

BOOM.

“Why?” I asked. “Why can’t you go with me?”

“Skyla... you’re a big pony now... you... have to-”

“Dad... please... I can’t go without you.”

I lifted the reinforcement strut higher, but it was too heavy. I felt my magic fizzling away. With a loud bang, the iron pole fell back onto Dad.

He didn’t even scream.

“Listen... listen to me, Skyla. You’re a big pony now. There’s nothing to be afraid of. Okay?”

I nodded my head yes, feeling the sides of my mouth drooping down.

“There’s something I need you to do....is that okay, Skyla?”

I tearfully nodded, trying not to cry.

“Don’t cry, Skyla. Big ponies don’t cry.”

His broken horn fizzled, and a card flew out from under his tux.

“Take this... get to the pen... and... and get the buck out. Is that okay, Skyla?”

A tear started to roll down my cheek.

“Come here...” said Dad.

I hugged him even as the street exploded around me.

BOOM

“I love you, Skyla. Don’t you ever forget that.”

He pressed the keycard into my hoof, and with that the magic died.

“Do it for me.”

I stood up, Dad just barely breathing behind me. I took a few steps away, then looked back.

“Go, Skyla! GO!”

A shell found the building next to me, and instantly I was covered in a cloud of soot and dirt.

“GO!!!”

I held a gauze pad to the wound on my leg.

On the way to the sub pen a stray piece of shrapnel found me - it now lay on the concrete floor, next to a few more blood-red gauze pads and several wrinkled strips of medical tape.

Despite being several hundred meters underground, the pen was still shaking. Every once in a while, there would be a soft metallic bang as a sub swung against the concrete dock.

The LED lights were shining as brightly as they could, but the pen was still as dark as the first day I stepped in.

Fortunately the Predators had different paint schemes, or I’d be pressing the keycard to each and every one. Dad’s was behind me, and the hatch was open. The first aid kit had been pilfered by yours truly, and the supplies in it were already dwindling.

I grabbed the roll of medical tape and wrapped it around my leg. The tape stuck to the fibery gauze and held it firmly against the cut. At the very least, the gauze didn’t turn red at first contact.

I looked up at the shaking ceiling, which was already beginning to lose a few spots of dust. Unfortunately for me, the wasn’t any antiseptic in the first-aid kit- the bottle was strangely empty. Well, I guess it was for the best, because another look at the bottle told me that it was a ten-year-old bottle of Apple Jack’s Ultra-Hard Alcoholic Cider.

Yeow!

Oh by Celestia’s mane that hurt. Better not stand up for now.

I looked at the open hatch, a few centimeters above me.

I tried to stand up again, squeezing my mouth closed as best I could. By Celestia’s false beard that hurt like hell. Remind me never to go playing with shrapnel ever again.

Slowly, and rather jerkily, I climbed up the series of indentations on the side of the sub, and stuck my head through the hatch. My two forelegs followed, then my cutie mark, then-

Gah!

The gauze pad bumped against the edge of the hatch. I lost all focus fighting back tears.

“Oh... oh by Celestia I can’t do this.”

I tried turning myself around. The hatch, being wider than it was tall, pushed against my sides, and I had to hold my breath for a moment.

I felt the metal edge grind against my ribs, and had a faint, weird idea that I was stuck.

sigh....

“Come on, Skyla, you can do this.”

I put my forehooves on the interior wall of the Predator and pushed as hard as I could. The metal edges began to grind further on my ribs, leaving burning red chafe marks.

By Celestia’s stolen tail does this have to hurt so much?

Holding my breath in, I pushed harder, and this time the Predator let me through.

I went sailing into the conning tower and crashed with a cloud of dust onto the submarine’s floor.

A quick look at the gauze pad and I pulled myself to my hooves. A drop of blood escaped the cloth and began rolling down my leg. I tried not to squirm.

Poking my head back outside, I levitated the first-aid kit and the keycard to me. The light-as-heaven keycard floated in fine, but the first-aid kit laughed at me and refused to comply. I nearly fell back out trying to grab it.

The pen shook again, and I hurriedly slammed the hatch shut.

The Predator was just as I left it - simple metal flooring, locked doors marked “TORPEDO”, and a blank navigation screen. The same old carton of cupcakes was still on Dad’s bunk, half empty now, with such a repugnant odor that I had to hold my nose in order to get close to it.

I set down the kit and nervously walked over to the control console. The same two master harnesses awaited a master. I ran my hoof over one, feeling the cold steel, and used my other hoof to activate the screen. I barely noticed the tear running down my face.

I guess Dad had been away, because the picture of him, Mom, Compass, and me at the beach was lying on the dive lever. The tape was old and frayed, and the edges of the picture were already blackening.

I could already feel the surge of tears welling up in my big blue eyes.

The same old fuzzy forward camera came up on the trifold screen, and I laid down on the commander’s chair, head in hooves.

Come on, Skyla, you can cry when you’re dead. And you’ll be dead if you don’t get a move on.

I let out a sniffle and wiped away the tears. Strapping myself in, I turned the engine switch with my magic, feeling the electrical whirrr of the main gearshaft kicking in.

Pulling both columns to the left, I turned the Predator towards the egress tunnel.

I placed a hoof on the dive column. The picture was milimeters away.

Holding back another tear, I pushed down hard on the column and felt Dad’s third child hold her breath and dive into the endless sea.

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