That was it for Fugro. She was fixed. Hours earlier, they had seen the engineering crews take the freshly manufactured parts out of the workshop and over to the damaged vessel. The process was lengthy, but before the day was done the new engine had been fitted, all parts replaced, and the hole in the hull they’d used to remove the engine in the first place was patched up and painted over. It had only taken the welding teams half a day before they handed the job over to a team to paint the hull with a new coat of antifouling.

Barring a few electronics and sensors, she was as ready to set out as a ship could get, and that included turning some of her lower compartments into a proper armory and ammo stowage, now that they actually remembered to do it.

To Dilip this meant one thing: Amandine would get her turn in drydock within a day or two. Add a week’s worth of fixing up her hull to that, and they’d be out of Belfast and at sea sailing towards America at long last.

“So tell me Edgar, what does your crew think of the solution they wound up with for Ireland?” The Indian dog asked the Scot on the other side of his desk. “Just... surveying the opinions in the fleet mind, while we wait for Raimund. You’ve got Brits and Irishmen on your crew, after all.”

For a second Fugro’s Captain stood still, gathering his thoughts with a mug of tea in one hand (not that he was much of a fan himself, Dilip just tended to offer some to all visitors).

“They’re... underwhelmed I think? Don’t get me wrong, it’s nice that a peaceful solution was found, but nobody actually ‘won’. Except Epona and the rest of the Celtic Pantheon, I guess? And even then I’m not sure how that will play out in the long run.”

“Sounds to me like she offered a nice outcome.” Dilip mused. “I mean, it’s their ancestral pantheon, right?”

“Maybe a bit too ancestral Dilip.” The hedgefog made a face. “Saint Patrick is a big thing on this island, and even though these guys don’t seem to overtly mind rejecting Christianism as long as they get peace – and I really wish I could hear what that priest in Carrickfergus thinks about the outcome- what is there to guarantee that future returnees and colonies elsewhere on the island will think the same way? I mean... Christ, Lilian won’t tell it outright but I can literally see the smoke escaping her nostrils whenever someone mentions it.”

“Ah yes... your medic?”

“Yeah, she’s a Dubliner.” Skinner explained. “She’s reliable. Ex-army medic, worked with ISAF backing up EOD teams in Afghanistan. Makes it all the more of a pity when I have to tell her to settle down.”

“That bad uh?”

“Only in private. We have a bit of a policy to keep our own discourses internal. Looks more professional. But she ain’t happy. If anything it’s good because she’s the only one that’s truly unhappy about it, of all the Irish and Brits on board. We sort of have an agreement.”

“Which is?”

“That it’s no use debating whether or not they should have allegiances to either the UK or Ireland when the Event wiped the slate clean anyway.” He took a sip of his tea. “It’s more about rebuilding from scratch, and we can all agree that a third-party deity will work well to settle matters between settlements, pun intended.”

“Not very secular though.” Dilip pointed out.

“Could be worse, though I wish we knew more about Epona’s actual agenda.” Skinner shrugged before he downed the rest of his tea. “Anyway, what’s the matter today? Problems lodging your crew when Amandine’s drydocked?”

“Nah, I can count on Raimund for that, she’s got a couple accommodation containers stowed on Rhine. It’s all there in the papers. What we’re here for is something my radio operator just found... and a crew

transfer order but that’s beside the point.”

“A crew transfer that’s got my attention Dilip.” They suddenly heard Raimund say, the pink filly making her way inside of the office, having just opened the door with her telekinesis. “What’s the matter with that?” She asked, plopping down in one of the seats next to his desk.

“Remember Anton? There might be a problem with her.” Dilip started. “She... ahem...” He coughed. “Paired with the crewmember she was there to take care of.”

“And how’s that a problem?” The pink filly quirked an eyebrow. “Sounds like just a fling to me.”

“Forgot the particularity with griffons, have you?” Edgar chuckled.

Funnily enough as he said that one could see some tiny electric arcs run down the length of the hedgefog’s quills.

“Okay, fine. Then Edgar, care to tell me the one detail I forgot about the one race among... hold on... the other two dozen I already have to remember?” She drawled, throwing Fugro’s Captain a mildly annoyed look.

Now, in her previous body, the drawl with a german accent might have worked. As a tiny pink filly unicorn with baby blue eyes? It was more of a cute gimmick.

“Pair bonding is what you forgot. And apparently according to his Third Officer...” He jabbed a thumb towards Dilip. “It’s stronger than ye think. As in... probably shouldn’t separate them stronger.”

“’Probably shouldn’t separate them’?” She repeated sarcastically, making air quotes with her hooves. “The hell is that about?”

“It’s mostly an assumption, but Edgar is right. I want to nip that problem in the bud before it can become one, and if possible without alienating these two. Show the griffons in the fleet we’re eager to do stuff that goes with their interests.” Dilip asserted as diplomatically as he could.

“And let’s admit I agree. What’s your suggestion? ‘cause I’m all willing to transfer Anton over to your crew, but that leaves me one sailor short in my engineering department.”

“I’m not exactly bursting with spares you know. Lest you forgot, of us three, your crew is by far the largest.” Dilip said, calmly pouring himself a fresh cup of tea.

He made a point of ignoring the gnaw marks on his spoon. Diamond Dog or not, he’d better get rid of that newfound habit of chewing on cutlery. Maybe he should start keeping a jewelry stash like the dragons, that might settle the mineral part of his diet. Or just use drill bits as if they were cigarettes.

“The American.” Skinner then decided to pipe in.

“What American?”

“The one in Carrickfergus we’re supposed to take as passenger, the mechanic that is.” The Scot said, turning towards Dilip. “I read the report on it yesterday, or did you really forget that soon?”

“I have a lot on my mind, that’s true. He wants passage to America like the seamstress that’s with Finnegan, right? I remember I put it off for now. I sent a message that we’d get them across for sure, but it’s no use bringing them aboard for now while we’re still in dry-dock. What of that guy?”

“He’s a mechanic.” Edgar said. “Not the exact skill set you need Raimund, but maybe you could bring him aboard and coax him into joining?”

“You want me to blackmail him into my crew.” She stared at him flatly.

“Heavens no! How’d that get into yer head lassie?!” He exclaimed. “Be ethical about it, have a chat with
the lad, convince him the right way. I’m not asking you to fookin’ press-gang him.”

“Alright alright...” She raised a hoof to placate him. “Let’s try that. I’ll fill in the transfer order for Anton tomorrow. Still...” She raised her eyes towards the ceiling. “That little detail does pose a big problem with griffons, and it might only get worse in the long run. You really sure they can’t be separated?”

“Can’t tell.” Dilip shrugged. “We may have books on the subjects, but they’re rather laconic on that specific topic. We’re going in blind, and I don’t think we’ll actually figure a way out of it until much later. I’m just erring on the safe side, for all we know we might not be able to sail in a convoy in the future.”

“Gee, how helpful.” Raimund said sardonically.

“That’s advice gladly given, Lorelei.” The Diamond Dog winked at her.

“Lore-what now?” Edgar blinked.

“Nah, it’s nothing. Just a little nickname I caught her subordinates using.”

“Ain’t that a song from Scorpions?”

“It is.” Raimund sighed. “It’s also a landmark where I’m from along a bend of the Rhine. Don’t know how they found it, but it was my callsign when I was in the sea scouts.”

“Cute.” Dilip chuckled. “In my opinion it’s a better fit than Raimund. Gerig isn’t outwardly shocking as a last name, but there’s a bit of charm to ‘Captain Lorelei, siren of the Rhineland’ don’t you think?”

“Says Captain Raj.” She grumbled.

“Come again?” The dog tilted his head sideways.

“Oh come on, it’s not like you haven’t heard it. We all have a nickname our crewmen say when we have our back turned.” She rolled her eyes. “I listen to the grapevine you know. In your case? Buddy you’re so Briticized for an Indian they’ve taken to call you after the British Raj.”

“I’m not Briticized.” Dilip calmly said, taking a sip of his tea.

The two other Captains just gave him a flat look. A guy from Mumbai, living most of the time in Aberdeen, not speaking Engrish and drinking tea daily? Yeah, good luck pretending the contrary.

Before either Raimund or Edgar could come up with a retort to the Indian’s protest, they were interrupted by a knock on the door. Sandra poked her head in, the little batpony giving them an awkward, fang-revealing smile.

“Ah, good to see you Miss Jensen, we were waiting for you.” Dilip politely smiled. “I heard you were finished deciphering our radio log.”

“Aye sir.” She nodded, shuffling inside the office, followed a few steps behind by a more confident but not any less concerned-looking Aleksei. “And I cobbled together an algorithm to make it a bit easier on us in the future. But...”

“There’s some concerning stuff you should know.” Aleksei said.

“About the demons?” Edgar quirked an eyebrow, idly fiddling with one of his quills.

“I wish it were that simple, Captain.” The Third Engineer said. “Before we get to it, I have Radiant waiting in the hallway. He knows a little more about what we’re about to disc-”

“Send him in, and please take a seat.” Dilip motioned with his paw, a frown marring his muzzle. “Is it that concerning?”

“Quite.” Aleksei nodded. “Do you remember how Doctor Sidereal heavily implied she wasn’t told the truth about the Event?”

“I do.” Dilip nodded.

“Well here’s the thing: we have a hint as to what may have actually happened. At least I think we do.” Sandra jumped in, opening her wing to reveal her smartphone.

With a quick show of wing dexterity, she laid it down on Dilip’s desk and hit a button that replayed the audio file she’d obtained. As soon as the file stopped playing, Dilip sank back in his seat, a pensive look on his features, before he turned his head ever so slightly in Radiant’s direction.

The Equestrian pegasus shrank a little under the Diamond Dog’s piercing gaze.

“So who did we just hear?”

“Former Crown Princesses of Equestria Luna and Celestia. They used to rule Equestria before they handed over the reins to Celestia’s prized student, Princess Twilight.” He explained. “The two single most powerful ponies in all of Equestria.”

“Really?”

“Celestia and Luna are alicorns, Captain. The most powerful type of pony, and immortal too. They’d been ruling for over a thousand years prior to abdicating.” Radiant took a breath. “Captain, you have to understand. They’re so powerful they literally control the motion of the sun and the moon around my home planet, and ponies regularly swear on them like they’re goddesses. I know I do.”

“And they released a powerful spell at the exact moment the Event occurred...” Dilip mumbled. “Did they cause the Event?”

“They haven’t, that much we’re certain.” Sandra asserted. “I have a second audio file with the frequencies of the magic wave that has swept the planet. I compared it to the background static, and it’s a match on the harmonics. What they did is something else.”

“Which apparently saved us all from dying at a great cost.” Edgar said. “Cadet Radiant, do you know who this... Sunset may be that they referred to?”

“I do not, sir.” The grey pegasus shook his head. “It could be anypony, but not so high-profile that any random Equestrian who have heard of her... him... I don’t even know.”

“This does explain one thing though.” This time it was Lorelei’s turn to speak up, all creatures in the room turning to look at the pink filly as she straightened up in her seat. “Why they wouldn’t tell regular relief teams like Sidereal’s what actually happened. They know it would anger most survivors, so they decided to only give the intel to one carefully selected colony that wouldn’t turn on them when they told the truth. And, going by what the Abyssinian royalty told us, that colony is Alexandria.”

“Which makes it all the more logical to head to Egypt once we’re done in America.” Dilip nodded. “Sir, what do you mean by ‘done in America’?” Aleksei questioned.

“Good question Klavins.” The Diamond Dog smiled, standing up and walking over to the window where he stared off towards the open ocean in the distance, beyond the harbor and Belfast’s lough. “What I mean by that is the Americas as a whole, not just the United States. We do need to deliver the cargo to Savannah, but we also need to survey the colonies we bought intel on from the HPI, Cuba, Mexico, Quebec, even Brazil. As soon as we’re done with that, expect us to head for the Mediterranean and get to the bottom of this.”

Miles was concerned. She always considered herself to be a rather keen observer. Even when she was young, her father had always done his best to encourage that aspect of her personality. The large bear of a guy kept pointing out the little details wherever they went hiking. And by wherever, she meant it. From North Dakota to California, no national park was spared, and always her dad had stories to share and tips about the nature to give her. He loved nature like that.

In fact, she was pretty sure even as a kid she could notice the longing in the man’s eyes. He used to serve in the Army’s Corps of Engineers up until his career took him elsewhere in a more secluded office job. But he still was an outdoors man, and that torch sure as Hell had been passed over to Miles.

So it came to no surprise that she’d notice some of the oddities that happened around Broceliande. Granted, it was no North American forest, but some points were still valid.

For one there were a lot more animals in there than normal. And they were... odd. Hard as it was to spot them before they disappeared in the foliage, she could still see that the squirrels were just a little bit bigger than they should, that the rabbits had more prominent ears, or that the deer had some sort of green, faintly glowing vine pattern beneath their fur – they didn’t look sick or hurt though-. Broceliande was having an effect on the wildlife, as if it was... amplifying it? Yes, amplifying.

The second thing she noted was the sheer growth rate of the forest. It didn’t seem too obvious around the castle because of Merlin’s wards keeping the forest at bay, but once they went past them and neared what used to be the outskirts of the forest, it was abundantly clear. All the magic in the air was making the forest grow at a blistering rate. Bushes and saplings had already reclaimed most of the fields and meadows closest to the forest, turning the former French bocage in a maze of shrubbery and thick vegetation Rockhoof had to repeatedly slice through with his shovel.

She’d read that Broceliande used to cover the entire peninsula of Brittany at some point in the past. At this rate and with so little civilization to contest it, it would reach that point in no time at all. Soon, all the roads and villages and farms so painstakingly built prior to the Event would be overturned by the spreading roots, covered and swallowed up under layers upon layers of vines, leaves and young trees. As if the towns in the area weren’t rundown enough. If people didn’t start reappearing in droves soon the entire region might slip back into the medieval age.

They’d just passed Paimpont minutes ago, the village that was supposed to be at the center of the forest. And it was like a scene ripped straight from post-apocalyptic art: vines creeping up the walls, cracked asphalt from where saplings were already sprouting here and there, reclaiming the little stone and wood houses that made up the village, with a herd of deer grazing between the deteriorating houses.

In front of her, Rockhoof grunted as he uprooted yet another sapling as if it were nothing.

Compared to her, the stallion was downright massive, a hulking wall of rippling muscles barely hidden

underneath a coat of sky-blue fur that wasn’t too unpleasant-look- Bad thought. She shook her head firmly, a very equine snort escaping her nostrils in frustration.

Damn those hormones for playing against her better senses.

He was already taken anyway.

“Gosh-darn-it brain, stop make me attracted to stallions!” she internally screamed to herself.

She tried to focus her attention on something else. Like... the shrubbery. Those nettles sure looked interesting.

“Excuse me lady Miles?”

Thank-fucking-god, a distraction! It was Merlin, the wizard trailing behind her in his equine form. “Yes, what’s the matter?” she replied with a polite smile, shaking her head slightly to get her mane out of her eyes.

She might need a rubber band for that later on.

“I’m rather curious about your weapon.” he asked, pointing a hoof at the rifle she carried in a sling attached to her backpack.

Normally it was only supposed to be the standard MOLLE daypack. Now? With her new size it was more akin to a fully-fledged rucksack. At least the chest and hip straps made it possible for a quadruped to use it half-comfortably. It didn’t even hinder her wings too much, though it tangled a bit in her poncho at times.

As for her rifle, it was... a bit primitive to be fair. It was just a simple scoped lever-action with the ever-classic bullet holder attached to its wood stock. Stylish, certainly powerful (the bloody thing spat .45-70), but also a bit of an antique.

In all honesty? She damn well knew she’d better brace right and not rely on her wings to take the recoil when she dared to pull the trigger, otherwise Merlin would have to put out some serious healing spells.

“It’s a basic weapon in this day and age, really. The design is more than a century old.” She fanned out her wings in an approximation of a shrug.

“But how does it work?” Merlin pressed on. “I mean no offense really, but Equestria is nowhere nearly as advanced as humans in terms of personal weapons, single shot breech loaders are at the apex of our technology. We rely a bit too much on magic for that.”

“Gee Star, never thought you of all ponies would ever admit to it. Been listening to Earth Pony activists, have you?” Rock chimed in with a little chuckle.

“They do have a point, though they could use a little bit more tact in how they say it. Us using magic all the time does seem to hinder the engineering research.”

“So you admit we’re using it as a crutch at times?”

“All species use crutches.” The wizard replied. “It just impacts us in different manners across Equus. I mean... look at minotaurs, they’re so strong they barely ever use machinery yet their engineering skills still surpass ours in certain areas. That’s what makes human civilization so fascinating: they have no such crutch to use, so in a way they tell me how far we could be if we didn’t have magic. Anyway, I’m getting sidetracked... about your gun, miss Miles?”

“’fraid the gun will have to wait for when we’re back at the castle, friend.” Rock interrupted, parting the bushes in front of them with a forehoof. “Because we’re here.”

Miles gaped at the sight. Beyond the edge of the forest, was a lake that made her think she’d just stepped into a fairy tale (and yes, she was aware Merlin the bloody Enchanter was literally in hoof’s reach).

Ahead of them, a little grass-covered slope gently led down to the shore, almost reaching inside the lake as if it were its own miniature peninsula. Cattails marked the border between the realm of land and that of water, their brown sausage-shaped heads gently swaying in the same wind that rustled her wing feathers. Without even noticing it, she spread them up slightly to let the breeze flow over her primaries, a gentle caress that brought the lake’s muddy smell with it, yet cool enough to assuage the heat she had built up hiking through all that forestry.

As for the lake itself...

Maybe it was because the morning was still relatively young, maybe it was the magic she could feel in the air, but thin fog banks roiled over the mirror-like surface of the water, completely unperturbed.

There weren’t any insects causing ripples in the water, no fish to catch them, not even a single mallard or a heron nesting in the reeds.

It was quiet.

And beyond the lake, almost perfectly lined up with a slate stone shaped like a ramp that dipped in the water... was a castle.

Comper Castle. It had fared far worse from the Event than Trecesson, or maybe it had always been that way – the military academy didn’t leave her with enough time to enjoy local tourism-, but it was... dilapidated. Its ramparts had partially collapsed in the lake, the stones now covered in green algae with vines creeping up the sides of the ruins, edging their way in the skeletal structure of the former keep, its empty windows eerily reminiscent of a skull’s eye sockets.

The sight was made all the more chilling by the fog that almost managed to hide the ruins behind its misty veil. A chill reverberated through her spine, all the way down to her tail. The surrounding forest suddenly felt a lot more oppressive. A green wall that towered above her menacingly, branches reaching for her yet she knew the green embrace was safe from the lak-

“That’s quite enough Vivian.” Starswirl said firmly.

Miles blinked. Once. Twice. Her flight instinct relented its grip on her mind, wings folding up along her flanks. It was as if a veil had been lifted off her eyes. The fog was gone, the castle still a ruin but not the skull-like shadow she had first imagined. The lake wasn’t silent anymore, and she could finally hear the frogs croak and the ducks quack, signs that it was actually teeming with life.

She sighed in relief, turning towards the wizard to thank him for dispelling the illusion.

Her breath caught in her throat.

Standing midair above the lakeshore was none other than the Lady of the Lake, staring imperiously at Starswirl whilst the wizard, still in his equine form, stared right back at her confidently, horn ablaze with magic. And forming a semicircle around the fay, like diligent bodyguards, were a good half-dozen piasts, easily twice as big as the one that had attacked her a few days prior, their silver scales glistening from the myriad of tiny droplets that trickled down along their coils.

And the Lady of the Lake...

She was every bit the regal maiden legends depicted her as. A set of shiny dragonfly wings sprouting out of her back kept her up in the air, each and every little flap letting sparkles float down to the water below her. Her skin made it very clear that she was far from human despite the humanoid shape: its blue translucent hue was enough to tell that, as if her flesh was actually water under a moonlit sky.

And in that reflection, her eyes were the stars, white pearls that shone through the aurora of a veil that her braided hair represented.

Vivian was only wearing a simple dress to preserve her dignity, its thin white fabric doing very little to hide her ample curves, so much so that it left most of her breasts bare as it traveled down, past her midriff before fanning out in petal-like flaps around her hips.

Really, Miles was rather chagrined her transformation had impacted her to the point where she couldn’t feel attraction towards the nubile form she had right in front of her eyes. Now about Rock...

Bad brain! Bad!

In the Lady’s hand was a staff, a simple yet elegant glass baton whose apparent fragility bellied the power she could feel radiating from it.

“And who are you, to stride up to my door, dispel my illusions and so brazenly call me by my first name, stranger? I can feel none of you are regular ponies, your minds resonate too much like humanity...” She said in Latin.

Miles didn’t understand a word of it, but she sure didn’t like the icy inflection she put on that last word.

“Oh but I’m no stranger...” Starswirl grinned cheekily. “As a matter of fact you know me very well, Lady Vivian.”

And on that comment Starswirl turned into Merlin with a flourish, his ghostly robes and beard billowing in a fake wind. Upon seeing him, Vivian’s imperious stance immediately shifted to... irritation maybe? Her traits were inhuman, far too angular on her oval face and edging more on the elvish side of things, with the typical knife-ears that drooped slightly at their tips. Antennae maybe?

A fae in every sense of the word.

Still, her reaction was mild in comparison to her piasts. The lake serpents reared up on their coils, loudly hissing at the Enchanter before Vivian stopped them by mutely raising her hand.

“You have a lot of nerve, showing up here.” She said after a minute. “Morgane sent her raven ahead of you, but I didn’t think you’d actually be so brazen as to actually come here.”

“Haven’t I made amends already?” Merlin said, spreading out his arms. “If Morgane could let this unfortunate series of events be water under the bridge, then shouldn’t you? She was the one I wronged, not you.”

Vivian closed her wings and gracefully landed on the water’s surface, dainty feet shining with a white aura that kept her above the surface. She walked over to Merlin, her gait as elegant and soft as her figure before she jabbed a finger against the ghost’s throat.

“I am the water under the bridge, wizard. Morgane may forgive you, and you’re lucky I respect her enough to stick with her decision, but never shall your actions be forgotten” She ground out.

“Then let it be so.” Merlin smiled, unfazed. “How much did Morgane’s message tell you?”

“Enough to get my attention. Not enough to sate my curiosity. I trust this is about Excalibur?”

“Yes... it is tied to Arthur’s sword.” Merlin gave a slow nod. “Do you want the whole story?”

For one long, excruciating minute, Vivian gauged him, staring him straight in the eye with a scowl before she finally lowered her staff, dismissing her piasts with a wave of her hand. They sank down beneath the lake’s water, though not before throwing one last hiss at the two ponies and the ghost wizard.

“Let’s take it inside.” She turned on her heels.

The trio watched her walk off towards her lake, striding over its surface as if it were solid until she reached the center. Then, without the sound of a drop hitting the water, she sank.

Miles just stared.

“I have no idea what just happened.” She finally said.

She really didn’t. Verbal Latin wasn’t a part of modern curriculums.

“Lovers feud, Star’s ex changed her mind, she wants us to come inside to explain. Come on, we need that Ex-halibut.” Rockhoof grumbled.

Sandra awoke with a groan. She’d just finished writing the script for her next podcast when somebody entered her cabin. Was it Aleksei? No, not her... she was pretty sure whoever did that paralyzed her before she got the time to turn around. So... a sphinx then? With their breath attack?

But why?

She was blindfolded, though that did little to stop the bat pony from surveying her surroundings with a bit of echolocation. Not that she was that good at it (much of her training time being dedicated to mastering her radio-detecting ears), but she could still ‘hear’ that she was in a room with a pony on either side of her and a crowd forming a larger circle around them at a distance, speaking in hushed tones.

As for the room, she could hear that they were on a slightly raised dais, each corner marked by pillars. The echoes coming from them were a bit scrambled, so she assumed they must have been heavily sculpted.

In contrast, some walls and the floor gave a far more muted echo. Curtains and carpets maybe? They tended to absorb sound like that.

She didn’t get the chance to listen further than that, probably because the batpony’s ears swiveling around on top of her head made it clear that she was actually awake. The crowd’s tone increased a bit in pitch, and on a whim she decided to stand up on her hooves.

“There we go. I see the new hires are awake...” Was that Artyom? What in the blazes is going on? “Nala, you may remove the blindfolds.”

The cloth band on her eyes was wrapped in a telekinetic grasp, before being smoothly lifted off her head, finally revealing her surroundings to her eyes. Judging by the dim light that streamed from the huge glass dome above them, it was late in the evening, so she hadn’t been asleep for long.

They were in a palace, for lack of a better word. Rich carpets and gilded decorations were all around the place inside of the ballroom/aula she’d been brought to, a warm mix of gold and blood red.

On either side of her were Bart and Radiant, both ponies already fully alert, though Bart didn’t look the least bit worried as he surveyed the crowd around them. A crowd that was made up of a mix of sailors from the fleet (mostly Amandine) and local colonists both from Carrickfergus and the IRA. None of them were armed, unless Guinness counted as deadly because they looked more like they were dressed for party than for war.

The only exception to that was Artyom, as the dragon slowly walked up to the dais the three ponies were on with a predatory gait, Nala – Amandine’s Chief Steward, a sphinx lionness- following a few paces behind.

With a wave of his claw, the crowd went silent and he threw them a smile that revealed the sharp white fangs in his maw.

Artyom was wearing his usual VDV beret, but he now also wore a blue-and-white striped tank top along with a pair of camo pants, a bottle of vodka tucked in one of the cargo pockets.

“Ladies and gentlemen... or whatever we all should be called now...” He chuckled. “Tonight, I welcome you all to the Merchant hotel – my thanks to Third Engineer Klavins for suggesting the venue-. We have much to celebrate.” He spread out his arms in fake flourish, eliciting a cheer from the crowd. He let them quiet down a bit before he continued, pulling out his vodka.

“Today... is the second of August. VDV day where I’m from, if you were wondering why I’m dressed like this. To a guy like me? It’s just to drink, celebrate, and piss in fountains.” He laughed, taking a first swig from the bottle. “Just endure the old veteran in me, I promise I won’t go into a nostalgic rant.”

The crowd laughed.

“For second, we’re celebrating the end of the repairs on Fugro! Can I get a cheer for all them mechanics and welders who did an excellent job?”

The crowd whooped. Artyom raised his bottle higher.

“We’re celebrating peace in Ireland! To Lady Epona! To the end of strife!”

They roared and cheered, a dragon from the IRA even released a gout of fire up in the air.

“We’re celebrating the trade agreement, between us sailors and you paddies! To prosperity!”

Another cheer.

“And finally! Ladies and gentlemen... I must confess... I’m a traditional.” He smiled, making a mock bow. “And there’s a tradition I quite like. You see, us sailors of Amandine have three new additions to our crew.” He waved a claw towards Bart, Radiant and Sandra. “Now, we’ve all gotten to know them ever since they first stepped on board. And they’re great, don’t get me wrong.” He paused to take another swig of vodka. “But they haven’t been properly... introduced to us all yet. You know, I’m one to believe you ain’t really part of a crew ‘til you’ve been proper hazed. Now who here agrees with me?”

All around them, the crowd whooped, roared and whistled at the blue dragon’s words.

“Fantastic...” He drawled after a long swig that downed half of his bottle before raising it one last time. “Now I say we get this party started. Just spare a thought for all the folks guarding the premises from monsters ‘fore we get this going and forget. And I say… UUUURAAAA!!!!” Artyom roared out, an ear- shattering bellow that he ended by spewing fire skywards, all of the crowd around him echoing the war cry that made Sandra’s eyes water from the sheer noise.

The hazing... had now officially begun.

In all honesty, it wasn’t as bad as Sandra had expected.

Maybe it was because the Officers were there and they wouldn’t let the hazing get too bad, but it was mostly just booze and embarrassing stuff they told them to do. Mostly booze really. Like... a lot of alcohol. She was surprised how much her new anatomy was able to withstand given she was half as heavy as she had been as a human. At best.

They dropped some empty buckets in front of her and the other hazees. They didn’t stay empty for too long, because within minutes partygoers dropped by on their dais to dump some random alcohol and liquors. Beside her, Radiant’s features turned increasingly queasy as the minutes went by and his bucket filled up with anything ranging from cheap lager to red wine and rum.

Eventually, Artyom walked up to them, the dragon down to his third bottle of vodka by then and hobbling unsteadily on his feet, wings half fanned out in an attempt to steady himself.

“Now what?” Sandra tried innocently.

Artyom just gave her a knowing look, his ruby red eyes glinting slightly.

“Now you chug.” He said.

“Sweet Celestia...” Radiant gulped, looking down at his booze bucket. “I mean... all of it?”

“Well yeah, duh.” The dragon snorted, a little puff of black smoke exiting his nostrils. “All of it. How are you gonna get a puke bucket otherwise?”

“Can’t fault the logic.” Bart chirped in. “Kom aan, bottoms up kiddoes. Leve de koning!”

And in a feat only achievable by an enlisted with several years of army behind him, the Belgian unicorn drunkenly wrapped the liquor bucket in his forehooves – he was now far beyond the point where he even remembered he could use telekinesis- and hefted it to his muzzle.

A round of cheers started going as soon as the sailors in the room noticed him going for it. Cries of ‘Chug! Chug! Chug!’ echoing all around the dais as Bart stood up on his hind legs to get it flowing. The foul cocktail spilled on either side of him, probably forever ruining the Merchant Hotel’s expensive carpet.

Bart didn’t care. He just finished the contents of the bucket in one go and roared out a challenge at the crowd once he was done, lifting the empty bucket up like a trophy for all to see.

The bravado was cut short, however, when his guts manifested their displeasure at the abuse. In an even shorter time than it took him to drink it, Bart emptied the contents of his stomach back into the bucket before collapsing on his side with a dumb smile, cradling the vomit bucket like a pillow.

Radiant and Sandra stared in horror, alternatively turning their eyes from the now unconscious unicorn, to the grinning dragon, and to each other.

“Your turn now.” Artyom finally said after letting them simmer for a few seconds.

From then on, the night became a confused haze of liquor and vomit. They couldn’t get a minute of reprieve before someone would drag them off to this salon or that suite to booze up some more. If anything, they only got some wise advice on how to last longer in the sentence: ‘just puke it all up to purge the system before it gets in your blood’...

So yeah, at least the vomit buckets had an actual use. And with all the alcohol in her system, at least Sandra would most likely forget all the debauchery she’d witnessed that night because apparently most colonists and sailors had decided now was the time to get their inhibitions out of the way.

In other words, the upper floors were a literal fuck-fest, from the royal suite to the rooftop hot tub. Hell, they even spotted Scarface hanging around with two Irish dragonesses at his arms or, more shockingly, Geert finding herself a room with Marta (Rhine Forest’s Polish nurse), of all creatures in the realm.

And so the hours went on and on, some well-deserved party for all involved before they had to move on to fix Amandine in the dry dock. Alcohol flowed, condoms flew, and memories were made. Soon though, the sun rose up above Belfast once more, the sign now was the time to shuffle back to their cabins and process all the alcohol in their bloodstream.

In the skies above the city though? Groggy eyes saw a large helicopter appear out of nowhere above the airport, surprising them as much as it did its pilots before it careened out of its intended flight path and went to crash in a park east of the local airport.

Right in Manticore territory.

Author's Notes:

Lorelei, I'd call that a fitting nickname for a sailor coming from the Rhineland that also sails on a ship called Rhine, no?

The original hill that makes up the landmark had a bit of a reputation before the area was industrialized. Wind would blow against his slopes and whistle somewhat, making sailors tell the tale of a siren trying to lure them in to crash their barges in the bend.

The Lorelei.