That is, if the Captain didn’t make too big of a scene. Narcisse doubted that would happen— technically, he outranked him.
Narcisse glanced carelessly back at the white-maned Captain, Silver Strutt. Silver’s mustache twitched in annoyance. He was likely more angry than he let on. That only caused Narcisse to smirk.
“One moment, Captain Strutt.” Narcisse held up a hoof to forestall him before bringing it down to flick a yellow switch on the chair’s left console. A subtle new hum joined the ambient noise within the bridge, indicating the working servos that lowered a polished titanium screen down over the angled pane of the windshield.
The purple-maned navigator sat up from his post, glaring at Narcisse quizzically. Narcisse ignored him, appreciating the hardened defensive shield as it lowered into place. The Excelsior had strong magical defenses of course, but for additional protection, especially for cases in which magic would not be enough, the specialized craft had been outfitted with strong metal barriers that could protect the more delicate parts of the ship. Narcisse found the forward defensive shield especially useful—not that he thought their mission would require any defenses. He just liked to use the panel’s reflective surface to ensure his mane was still coiffed properly.
Even more than the switches to activate the forward guns, this was his favorite.
Smoothing out one or two hairs that were out of place, Narcisse deactivated the shields with another flick of his hoof, satisfied. He really didn’t have any regrets, but it would be nice to pilot the Excelsior a little more often. It was one of life’s true joys to command such an impressive machine. Off slight to the right, the horizon began to blush with the first hints of dawn. It looked like Princess Celestia’s sun would be up within the hour.
From his right, there was a sound of somepony clearing his throat more forcefully. “Ahem! Um. Commodore?” Captain Strutt pulled at his bushy mustache impatiently. “The beacon?”
Narcisse gave a thinly veiled eyeroll as he watched the horizon. He was well aware of flight regulations regarding ground control contact for recognition when breaching the 80 kilometer boundary. He didn’t need to be reminded like a foal. But no harm would come from piloting the Excelsior just a bit longer in silence.
No harm to him anyway.
“Allow me to just enjoy a few more minutes of peace, my dear Captain. Let’s not spoil the moment.”
“But—”
“—Nahp!” Narcisse shushed, motioning with a downward swipe of his hoof. “The ground ponies can afford to sweat a little bit about our mysterious blip on their MADAR screens. With a more interesting start to their lackluster day they won’t even need coffee.”
“Ground ponies?” Came a muttering growl from the engineer to his left. Narcisse paid her no mind. He didn’t even know her name.