Local Time: 1730
Depth: 150 Hooves
Location: Ssshhhhhh, Classified
All aboard the TMS Sneaky were on their best behavior as Captain R glanced from station to station, checking their readiness. At the con, Ensign Splish Splash nodded in silent acknowledgment, they were ready to follow their captain anywhere. He had more than proved his worth in the Cherry Filling Battles of ‘79 with his brilliant Puppy-dog Eyes Offense.
Stepping forward, Captain R calmly addressed his crew, “Gentlecolts and mares, today we sail under troubled waters beneath the foamy flows with only one objective before us. Escape.”
Before Captain R could continue, Lieutenant Rowdy interrupted with a shout, “We have a— make that multiple returns on sonar, Captain!”
All eyes swung to the screen. One then two dots appeared on a zero intercept course. “Emergency power! Full ahead!,” Captain R bellows.
Reactor power was kicked past the redline by Specialist Adrenaline Spike. It was going to be a race. Would they be able to gain enough distance from a nearly dead stop against the two bogeys which were already speeding in?
Time till intercept, 8 seconds
7
6
5
4
3
2
1
Silence.
A soft sigh that no one pony realized they had been holding was released. The Sneaky had once again been up to the task.
“Captain, close contact above!”
Whipping around Captain R barely had time to register the newest small blue contact.
TTHHHHOOOOOOOOMMMM
A column of blue doom from above flashed mere hoof lengths from the Sneaky. The hull of their vessel bucked and shook from the furious turbulence of a near miss. Thank goodness. Whoever was on their tail had set for a contact fuse. It was unlikely they would be so lucky a second time.
“Seamate Rubber, send out the DUCC,” Captain R said. With a sedate bloop, the latest in naval counter-measures made its way to just beneath the surface to foul further attempts.
Slowly slinking from the area, Captain R sniffed the air and took note of another urgent need. Sneaky was getting a bit stale. They needed to surface soon to replenish their air.
“Ensign Splish Splash,” Captain R said, “do you see any especially large clumps on the surface?”
“Aye, Captain,” she gasped, “twenty degrees port at 400 hooves.”
“Very well, Ensign, take us to the center of the mass and run us up to the surface,” Captain R said.
Creeping up to the surface, the Sneaky’s snout poked up into the foamy white mountain with hardly a sound or ripple betraying its presence. Drinking deeply fresh, if rather bitter air rushed in filling their reserve.
With the immediate need taken care of, it was time to return to their objective and ponder how to accomplish it. A rather risky and altogether crazy plan kept springing to mind. In fact, if Captain R bothered to think about it at all, he might even decide it was a bad idea. Perhaps the worst idea that any submarine captain could possibly have.
With nary a twitch of his ears, Captain R devoted his full attention to the charts of the sea they were trapped in. No matter how long he stared, his eyes kept getting drawn back to the same place as surely as maple to a pancake.
Resigned he stood firm and said in a low, calm voice, “Ensign, make our course 3-2-8 and rig for deep dive.”
Having set course Ensign Splish Splash looked ahead for any obstacles on their new heading. Nothing. Actually, make that nothing-nothing. From the current location, the Sneaky was now on a heading that would take them smack-dab into the deepest water around.
“The Drain,” Splish Splash muttered to herself in trepidation.
Local Time: 1735
Depth: 1800 Hooves
Location: The Drain
“Captain,” Seamate Rubber said, “The DUCC has gone silent, I’ve not heard a squeak on my cans in over a minute.”
“No matter, Rubber, no matter,” Captain R replied. All they had to do now was implement and survive his brilliant plan.
“Ensign Belly Flop, please take over at the helm from Splish Splash, we are going to need your particular way of doing things today.” Captain R said.
To make this work the Sneaky would have to do something, actually, multiple somethings that no submarine had ever done. First, under the careful coxing of Belly Flop, they dropped their stern at a forty-five-degree angle until they were practically standing on the floor astride the Drain.
“Chief Slippery Hooves, rig our stern chase grapple to hold while we run up to full power,” Captain R instructed. “We need to be able to detach on my command and not a moment sooner.” Or later he thought to himself.
Water began to flow, then churn as power ramped up on the tethered sub. The sea itself swirled about on the surface while deep below the Sneaky gave its all. Finally, when it seemed the chain was going to give way, Captain R gave the order.
“All hands, brace for breach! Release the grapple, Chief!”
A mighty gurgle echoed through the water and Sneaky leaped upwards its grapple trailing a piece of the sea floor it had anchored to.
Every member of the crew hung on for dear life. Some had been able to secure themselves and warily watched the depth meter with wide eyes. Others were hanging on to whatever was nearby and swung to and fro with pale faces.
A mad grin on his face, Captain R couldn’t help a single giggling-gurgle that escaped as he prepared to activate the second something.
TMS Sneaky explosively broke the surface, scattering any foam still left. Sudsy water hurtled in all directs at anypony who happened to be unlucky enough to be in the area observing them. And kept going, leaping clear from the water and briefly taking flight.
“WHHHEEEEEEEEEEE!”
With a prestigious wet splat, Red landed on the linoleum still holding the bathtub plug and waved it triumphantly at a thoroughly dripping wet Azurite.
*Designated Underwater Controlled Counter-measure
