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

"We've been spotted! Torpedo off of port captain! Brace! Breach in the hull, Breach in the hull! Ship's sinking captain! Decompression in twenty minutes!" mumbled voices screeched in the head of Commodore Hooves.

The Commodore got up out of her bunk in the Officers Quarters and walked over to the coffee maker. Commodore Hooves hated making a habit of any substance but as of late it was required for her to wake up in the morning. It may have been a bad omen to keep having the same nightmare night after night but Commodore Hooves wasn't a very superstitious mare. It times of old it was said Princess Luna would provide guidance for those lost in their dreams but no help of the sort was available now. The shrinks would be out of a job if such a legend were true.

Commodore Hooves grabbed her jacket and hat while on the way out into the hall. It was only the third day of the voyage but being out of the view of the sun makes time seem like one long night. In all honesty it was also pretty boring. Below the metal grate walkway there was the sound of laughter by some of the sailors. Above the metal grate ceiling there was the clink of utensils and trays from the mess hall. The walk to the command room seemed to go by fast and as mundane as it was, it was the only change in scenery that could be afforded to most higher level officers.

The door swings open and the command room is revealed. Monitors, maps, and blinking buttons were scattered throughout. It was a wonder more ponies didn't complain of eyestrain since this was the only light was from some accent lamps above and the green glow of computer screens.

"Well look who's up lads! I was about to send someone after ya. Did ya get a good rest sleeping beauty?" Captain Robertson chuckled.

"I am glad to see someone doesn't have their knickers in a twist this morning. If you really wanted to know I slept horribly." Commodore Hooves retorted.

"It happens to the best of us but if it persists, ya best be seeing the medic to get ya some of them sleeping pills," the Captain responded.

Something seemed off about Captain Robertson thought Commodore Hooves. He was in to much of a good spirit to be sober.

"Alright Robertson cut the cud and had over your flask," the Commodore demanded.

"I have no such thing and I don't like ya throwing accusations around on me sub!" the Captain slurred.

The Commodore noticed his hind leg shift something underneath the desk. She swiftly reached under and pulled out a silver flask half-full of something.

"Is this how you command your vessel Robertson? Your liquored up beyond stupor. I can begin to see why your crew holds you in such high esteem. I bet they could pull all sorts of stunts while you are out of your wits!" Commodore Hooves chastised.

"Calm down bubbles, we haven't even left Equestrian waters yet. I am so sorry that I even dare to have a crutch. Not even the Admiral is expected to stay dry for three months!" the Captain reasoned.

Commodore Hooves stared at Captain Robertson for a good minute or so. The tension in the room could be cut with a knife. Finally the flask was handed back to the Captain.

"Fine, take your liquor on your own time but not when the lives of your crew are on the line. If I see you with that flask in this command room again I will submit a vote of no confidence to the Admiral. Do you understand me?" Commodore Hooves bargained.

The Captain slipped the flask in his pocket and walked over to door. He almost left before turning around and getting the last word.

"Don't think you are all high and mighty because I abided to your agreement. We both now you don't have the experience to run a fleet!" Captain Robertson shouted as he turned once more for the door.

Commodore Hooves could help but smirk. She sat down in the Captain's seat and started to work over the controls. It became apparent how the Captain was comfortable enough to drink on the job. The Captain's station was a leather chair that overlooked the rest of the Command Room. There were a few monitors on one side and levers accompanied by switches on the other. The Commodore got up and walked behind the chair to the periscope. She pulled it down and extended it up to the full length but only saw water.

"How deep are we currently?" the Commodore asked.

A young sailor looked away from a monitor and replied, "Ma'am we are 600 feet below."