The Remarkably Short, Yet No Less Interesting Career of Commodore Derpy Hooves of The Equestrian Nuclear Submarine Fleet

In the recorded history of the Equestrian Navy there have been few funeral services aboard a submarine. Thanks to the short, clandestine, and high risk nature of the missions, there were hardly any occasions were a funeral service was deemed appropriate to conduct. Captain Robertson was not going to let tradition get in the way of his farewell to his most favorite crewman. Even before Hector dipped into a coma the Captain made it known to Dr. Slow Drips that Hector would receive full honors immediately if any harm were to fall upon him.

The Commodore was taken by surprise when she was asked to say a few good words about a crewman that until recently she knew nothing about. Actually, Commodore Hooves was surprised that the service was being held at all. The whole event was taking place in the Mess Hall with the tables pushed aside to make room for the casket and vacant areas for sailors to stand. Commodore Hooves would have liked to say no to the service and be done with it. It is not like the K.S. Pride is in friendly waters and under full control after all! The Commodore was only compelled by the tears of the Captain.

A bell was rung and crewmen started to file inside the Mess Hall. Some of them are still visibly shaken by the recent expulsion and uncertainty. Except for a few members of the Maintenance Crew, the majority of sailors were unaffected (at least on a personal level) by the loss of Hector. Hector was a low ranking reactor technician that was still learning the ins and outs of nuclear propulsion.

"Wasn't that guy a loner? I hardly saw him outside of duty," a techinican whispered.

"Yeah, he was a real clutz too. Almost had to decontaminate the whole reactor level when he knocked over a spent rod of uranium," another technician commented in a hushed tone.

The murmurs of the gathering crowd where silenced when the Captain walked up to the podium. He glanced back to the closed casket and once more at the Commodore before speaking.

"Now I have gathered you here to pay tribute to a fine sailor. Hector was too young, too inexperienced for the life aboard the Pride. This is a fact that I didn't see a few months ago when I decided to enlist him on our ill-fated journey. His death is the result of my foolishness and it is a burden I must bear for the rest of my days," Captain Robertson said while holding back tears.

"Not all of you may know him and I am sure even fewer liked him. Several times have complaints been placed on my desk detailing Hector's displays of incompetence, only to be tossed aside. Do not remember Hector as the 'bumbling misfit' which is how one of the reports so eloquently named him. Instead, remember Hector as a young sailor trying his best to serve with the finest Celestia has to offer. I sure his father would be proud of his efforts. You may know Hector's father, his name was Admiral Riptide," the Captain stated to the astonishment of the crowd.

"Perhaps we can all take comfort that they are both in a better place. Walk away from today knowing that it doesn't matter if we are struck down in an epic battle told to prosperity or happen to be taken by an unfortunate accident; death will find come for us all in he end. What matters is what you do with yourself until then," the Captain said with a straight face as he walked back to his seat.

The Captain's speech was met with heavy applause and he Commodore felt that her two line comment will be horribly brief. Fate does provide a few happy accidents sometimes. In fact, the Commodore might have saved the crew of the Pride because of a clumsy move of her own.

Commodore Hooves bumped the side of the casket. The wooden box fell with a large thump and the whole room was shocked to see that Hector's casket was quite unoccupied.