Beneath a Sea of Blood

Emerald was used to waking up before the crack of dawn: many a drill, surprise inspection, and critical exam had taken place before the rising of the sun, hardwiring his brain to wake up at the same time every morning—0400 hours. But on this particular morning, Emerald was awake long before his alarm clock alerted him of his standard waking hour.

Without so much as a grunt, groan, or sigh, Emerald got out of bed and went to the clock, its incessant buzzing inching it closer to the dresser edge, bringing it perilously close to tumbling down onto the worn, cheaply carpeted floor. With a twist of the knob, Emerald turned it off and rubbed his eyes.

Thunder rumbled outside as rain poured down the window.

Opening the closet, Emerald pulled a drawer open and looked at the captain’s uniform lying inside. It was brand new, never worn, the fabric still having that new-uniform smell, and it was his. He had worked so hard, studied for so long, and done everything to earn the privilege of wearing this uniform… and yet, Emerald felt nothing as he pulled it out and put it on.

The rain came down harder, so much so that it could be heard hitting the roof of the officer’s quarters. Emerald didn’t notice; he had been listening to the rain all night as he lay in bed and stared at the ceiling until he tuned the sound out.

Emerald had tried to sleep, but after three hours had gone by, he had realized that he wasn’t going to doze off. His father had spoken of the nervousness he got the night before heading off on his first patrol, and Emerald had experienced the same thing, his brain racing out of control as it darted between everything that could go wrong during the mission, every way a submarine could be detected, blown up, malfunction, and otherwise fail. On one hand, Emerald was grateful for that, as it allowed him to concoct solutions for each problem, or how best to avoid them… but he still would have preferred being able to sleep.

But then his brain had switched gears, abandoning the “problem then solution” loop and going to something more painful… the knowledge that Diamond was somewhere out there, probably in the very waters that he himself was going to sail into.

His classmate, his companion, his friend… she was out there, but not as his backup or to lend aid if he was attacked by an enemy fleet.

There was a knock on the door. “Captain?”

Jumping, Emerald quickly calmed down. Cinching his waterproof long coat shut, he put on his cap, picked up his duffel bag, and peered through the peephole. Satisfied, he opened it to find four guards waiting for him.

“Ready, sir?” one of them asked.

Emerald responded by wordlessly leaving the room and closing the door behind him. Taking the hint, the guards closed ranks around him and started down the hall.

***

The sun still hadn’t risen as the truck forced its way through the howling wind and pouring rain toward one of the base’s warehouses. Ponies maneuvered pallets of industrial supplies in and out of the building, doing their best to ignore the rain soaking their clothes as the truck passed through a loading bay and traveled deeper inside, going between stacked pallets until coming to a stop far away from the warehouse’s few windows. The doors opened and the guards jumped out, guns still at the ready.

Emerald hopped out of the truck. Wasting no time to get him out of sight as quickly as possible, the guards herded him into the warehouse’s office. It was a typical, boring room with little in the way of decorations or personality, the walls plain and nondescript. There was no one inside to bother the group as the guards closed the door and lowered the blinds.

Satisfied that they were hidden from any prying eyes, another guard approached a bookshelf and pushed it aside, revealing a well hidden door built into the wall. Emerald and his escorts quickly entered and descended a lengthy staircase until they reached a large, concrete tunnel. They walked through, passing by sealed doors and locked supply rooms. This was a secret launching facility, built to allow submarines to come and go without being seen by Nightmare Moon’s spies. Buried three stories beneath reinforced concrete and steel, it was one of the most well-protected facilities on base.

Emerald and his group reached a large set of double doors, these ones guarded by four more heavily armed guards. They scanned everyone present to make sure they weren’t changelings, and only after each spell registered a negative response, and their credentials carefully inspected, were Emerald and his escorts allowed through.

The hanger on the other side of the doors was a heavily reinforced structure of concrete, well-used and expansive. Resting comfortably in the center of its vast interior, was Emerald’s new charge: sister to the stolen Nautilus, the Seawolf proudly and patiently awaited the arrival of her captain. Though Emerald had studied the blueprints to familiarize himself with his new command, it was breathtaking to actually see it with his own eyes. If the Gato-class submarines were akin to the typical, well-armed and well-rounded soldier, then Seawolf was their commando counterpart: Bigger, stronger, and more intimidating in every way, from the taller conning tower to the thicker, bigger hull, and the freshly painted steel that had yet to be worn down by the sea.

Ponies in worker coveralls were loading torpedoes, food, and supplies into the submarine, though from how many empty frames and pallets were being wheeled away, it seemed like they were almost done. Emerald had clearly been expected, for the submarine’s crew were already standing in formation on the dock, and as Emerald and his escorts approached, they all snapped to attention.

One familiar pony walked up. “Captain. Welcome.”

Emerald shook Steel Wheel’s hand. “Wounds healing up?”

Steel gestured to the cuts he had, all of which had been stitched shut. “Nothing I can’t handle.” He frowned at seeing the deep bags beneath Emerald’s eyes. “Didn’t sleep well?”

“No.”

“No one would blame you.” Steel gestured towards the sub. “There’s some sleeping pills on board you can use once we get under way.”

Nodding, Emerald turned his attention to the crew. Most of them he knew, for they were his classmates. Or, Emerald realized, had been; they were now they were his to command and lead, as well as protect and bring safely home. But there were a few ponies he didn’t recognize: they had probably been brought in from other crews to lend expertise and experience.

Four ponies in particular caught his attention—standing off to the side of the rest of the crew, they were older, well-muscled, and possessed a silent intensity that told Emerald they were used to operating by themselves.

“These commandos will be joining us for the mission,” Steel said motioning to the four in question. He didn’t elaborate on why; their mission objective was on a need-to-know basis for security reasons, and there was no reason to say it out loud.

Emerald went to the pony he guessed was the leader of this group. He extended his hand. “Welcome aboard.”

The pony made no effort to take it.

Steel frowned. “Your commanding officer offered you his hand.”

The commando grasped Emerald’s hand, gave it one shake, then let go. It was mechanical, passionless, and bereft of warmth.

These four were going to be trouble, Emerald realized. But he would deal with that later; there were far more pressing matters to attend to. “Steel,” he asked, “what remains to be loaded?”

“Only a few torpedoes. Once they’re aboard, we can depart.”

“Good. Let’s get everyone aboard and get the engines warmed up.”

Nodding, Steel turned to the crew. “Attention! We will be departing as soon as our last supplies are loaded. All personnel to their stations; engineering, get the engines going and get us ready to move out. Dismissed.”

The crew broke ranks and hurried across the gangplanks onto Seawolf’s deck, where they then clambered up the conning tower and vanished inside. The commandos followed behind them, leaving only Steel and Emerald remaining on the dock.

“After you, sir,” Steel said.

“A captain is the last one aboard his ship and the last one off,” Emerald said.

Nodding, Steel crossed the gangplank and entered the sub. Emerald started to follow him, but paused. He looked down to the concrete floor beneath his boots.

This was the last time he might ever stand on land.

Pushing the thought aside, Emerald walked across the gangplank, stepped onto his submarine, climbed the ladder onto the conning tower, and headed down the ladder leading into the ship, closing the hatch behind him.

Reaching the bottom of the ladder, Emerald stepped off into the ship’s command room; it was nearly identical to the simulator and the sub he had commanded for open-sea tests, though it was a bit roomier with a little more open space to walk around in. A civilian would still find it horribly cramped, and the claustrophobic would certainly have a panic attack: despite being larger than other subs, it was still stuffed full of pipes, tubes, wheels, knobs, levers, and consoles utilizing every possible inch of space.

The bridge crew were already settling into their stations; Emerald took special note of Vinyl Scratch at the radio station, adjusting her headphones and her equipment to make sure everything was calibrated. Though he had become familiar with her presence over the past few years at the academy, it wasn’t until now that he realized just how strange it was to see a career DJ give up her passion to now serve as a radio operator aboard a submarine.

His thoughts broadened to the crew at large—former farmers, clerks, taxi drivers, businessponies… desperate times call for desperate measures. Yet here they all were, everyone part of a well-oiled machine. Despite most lacking real combat experience, each one knew their role and how to execute it, ensuring that the submarine—their new home—operated at peak efficiency.

The floor rumbled beneath Emerald’s boots as the unseen engines came to life, breaking him from his train of thought.

“Engine room reports ready,” Steel said as he came over.

“And the torpedoes?”

“Last ones are being tied down now.”

“Good. Let’s get underway.” Going to his station, Emerald took the microphone. “Attention all hands, this is the captain speaking: we are about to depart. Prepare yourselves accordingly. That is all.” He hung up and turned to the helm. “Helm, all engines back one-third. Once cleared of the pen, execute a 180-degree turn and prepare to dive.”

The helmspony nodded. “Engines back one-third, 180-degree turn, prep for dive, aye, sir.”

The submarine moved backwards. Though there were no portholes, the sonar provided all the information needed for the helmsman to safely maneuver. Once the ship had cleared its berth and reversed a safe distance away, the helmsman turned the ship’s wheel to execute a 180 degree turn.

There was a very distant, muted rumble that Emerald guessed was the gear mechanism for a set of blast doors opening up below and forward the sub, granting them access to the underwater tunnel that connected the submarine pen to the ocean.

“Way ahead is clear, Captain,” the sonar operator said.

“Dive to enter the access tunnel, and resume ahead one-third,” Emerald said.

“Diving, ahead one-third, aye,” the helmspony said.

The hum of the engines increased as the ship started forward, moving gradually enough that no one felt the need to grab onto something to steady themselves. Then there was a very slow, gentle drop, as if they were all on an elevator that was taking its time as it descended.

Glancing over at the sonar station, Emerald saw a giant circle of pings surrounding the Seawolf; they had entered the tunnel successfully, but the thought gave him no comfort. If anything, it made Emerald nervous: there were no scenarios in the simulator or in any textbook about submarines entering underwater passages like this one. If an accident happened, they wouldn’t be able to release ballast and commence an emergency ascent.

The crew around Emerald were breathing deeply; Steel was calm and composed. Most of the others were gripping their desks, railings, anything they could hang on to.

“End of the tunnel approaching,” the sonar operator said a few minutes later, shattering the silence that had unknowingly gripped the bridge. Then, “We’re through.” She looked to Emerald. “We’re in open seas, Captain.”

Trying not to smile in relief, Emerald nodded. “Helm, come to course zero one five. Dive to one hundred feet. Full speed.”

“Course zero one five, depth one zero zero, full speed, aye,” the helmspony said.

As the submarine turned, and the hum of the engine grew, Emerald knew that he could hand command of Seawolf over to Steel Wheel, retire to his room, and take a sleeping pill to get some much needed rest, but that could wait a bit longer. As this was a classified mission of the highest order, no one outside of himself, Steel Wheel, and the other senior officers had been told what was going on. Everyone else was in the dark. Emerald decided now was the time to rectify that.

Taking his microphone, Emerald activated the ship-wide announcement system. “Attention all hands, this is the captain speaking. I’m aware that none of you were told what our mission is before we departed port. A few days ago, Equestria’s intelligence community learned that Admiral Shining Armor did not die in the attack on our base, as many thought. We learned that he is alive, kidnapped during that attack by… by Diamond Waters.“

Everyone on the bridge turned to Emerald.

“For those of you who are new to our crew, Diamond was a former classmate of ours. It had been assumed that she had died in the attack, but she did not: Intelligence has learned that not only did she survive, but she defected to Nightmare Moon.”

The sound of the engines was the only thing heard on the bridge.

“Our mission is to find the Admiral, rescue him, and bring him home. Our destination is approximately three weeks away at full speed; as stealth is our highest priority during this mission, we will remain submerged for most of our journey and maintain complete radio silence. So settle in, focus on your duties, and we’ll get there before you know it. That is all.”

Hanging up the microphone, Emerald flicked off the intercom. Around him, the bridge crew were looking at each other. The confidence and determination to carry out their mission was gone; now there was shock, fear, and anger. Everyone here had worked and trained with Diamond; like Emerald they had thought she had been lost during the attack on the base.

Now, like Emerald, they had to come to terms with a comrade who had betrayed them all.

***

Being larger than a Gato-class submarine meant that Seawolf’s interior was more spacious, and as Emerald opened the door to his quarters, he was pleased to see that the same luxury applied to his room. Unlike a captain’s cabin on a Gato, his was large enough so that he could actually walk around if he wanted, or have a meeting with up to three guests. Opening the locker, he unzipped his duffel and put away his clothes. Fishing out the few personal belongings stuffed at the bottom of the bag, he made a half-hearted attempt to give his quarters a bit more warmth: a couple family photos, and a few of his favorite books that he could read when he was off duty.

Emerald finished with a small adjustment to the photo he had placed on a small shelf next to the cabin’s sink mirror. He paused to study the photo. It was several years old by now, the frame worn. His father’s perfectly preserved smile beamed at him from the captured memory.

The image conjured thoughts and feelings of a long past time when he listened to his stories as a young colt. What would his father say to him now? Emerald believed that he’d be proud of his son getting his own command, and commend him on his bravery to head out a mission this important whether he felt ready or not.

Emerald still didn’t feel ready.

There was a knock at the door.

“Come in,” Emerald said.

The door opened, and Steel Wheel came in.

“Has everyone settled in?” Emerald asked.

“Everything’s going smoothly,” Steel said. “Everyone’s present and accounted for. Copper Cog’s completing his assessment of the engines and other systems, but he doesn’t think he’ll find anything wrong.”

“Good. And the radio?”

“Modified so that we can receive transmissions, but nothing goes out.”

“Excellent.”

“Though, fi I may say so, there’s a lot of frayed nerves about Diamond.”

Emerald sighed. “I guessed as much. How’s everyone taking it?”

“A lot of anger. A lot of grief. Not going to be easy to get over it.”

It was silent in the cabin.

Trying to change the mood, Steel looked around at Emerald’s spacious quarters. “Looks like you lucked out, Captain.”

“Don’t kid yourself, Steel,” Emerald said. “It’s a closet. A big closet, but still a closet.”

“I’m the one with the closet.”

The two chuckled, both grateful that the mood was better, even if only by a little.

“What about the commandos?” Emerald asked. “Have they settled in?”

“They were the first ones to get their gear in order; their leader’s waiting outside.”

“Bring him in.”

With a nod, Steel stepped aside and gestured to their unseen guest.

The commando leader entered the cabin, ducking to get through the door frame and closing the cabin hatch behind him. He was the big, strong pony who had initially refused to shake Emerald’s hand back in the hangar. His blank, unreadable face hadn’t changed, and Emerald doubted that he had decided to change his opinions since their initial interaction. Even though the pony’s face remained an enigma, Emerald suspected that beneath the stoicism he was being judged. He would need to choose his words and actions carefully to avoid giving off an impression of weakness.

“What’s your name?” Emerald asked.

“Silent Knife, sir.”

“I hope you don’t find conditions too cramped, Knife,” Emerald said, deciding to try and start things off with a bit of dry humor.

“My men and I are used to it.”

“Good… I take it you all were briefed about the mission?”

Knife nodded.

“I’m glad to hear that. Do you need anything while we’re underway?”

“No, sir.”

Emerald nodded. Silent Knife, while not as openly disrespectful as he had been in their first conversation, demonstrated that he also wasn’t going to be open or forthcoming when dealing with his new commanding officer. Perhaps taking this to the next step would help. “Silent Knife, let’s get something out in the open: I’m a thestral; judging from how you’ve treated me, I’m guessing that both you and your team don’t trust my kind.”

Silent Knife’s expression didn’t so much as twitch.

“I’m guessing something happened between you and a thestral in the past.”

“One of our team was a thestral,” Silent Knife said. “We thought we could trust her with our lives. She betrayed us on a mission and defected to Nightmare Moon. I lost half my team because of her.”

Emerald mused over the information. “I see.”

It didn’t seem possible, but Knife’s face seemed to harden even further.

“We do not have to like each other,” Emerald said. “I don’t expect you to become a friend. All I ask is that we focus on the mission, complete it, and then we can go our separate ways when it’s over. Is that acceptable to you and your team?”

Knife’s eyes met Emerald’s gaze. “If you serve Equestria, sir, then you have nothing to fear from us.”

“And if I don’t?”

Knife was silent.

Emerald knew precisely what type of message that silence meant. “Then you’ll make sure I’m no longer a threat.”

It wasn’t easy to surprise a pony trained to calmly assassinate high profile targets—whether up close with a knife to the throat or at a distance with a bullet through the eye—and to sabotage factories at the cost of dozens of civilian lives, all in the name of letting Equestrians sleep soundly in their beds, but there was no mistaking the momentary surprise Emerald saw in Knife’s face. It was only there for a half-second before he recomposed himself, but it happened all the same.

Emerald contemplated what to do next—being so forthcoming had been risky, but it appeared to have paid off. Should he try going just a little bit further? No… best to end things here and accept the minor victory he had achieved.

“If you or your team require anything, ask Steel Wheel. Dismissed.”

Nodding, Knife turned and left, closing the hatch behind him.

Emerald let out a long gasp and leaned against the hull.

“That was… bold,” Steel said, impressed. “Especially considering who you were talking to.”

“I learned long ago that when you’re facing a bigot, show them you’re not going to be a doormat,” Emerald said. “With that in mind, how do you think that went?”

“About as well as could be expected.”

“Your impressions?”

“He doesn’t like or trust you... but he and his team will do their job.”

“What do you know about them?”

“They were hand-picked by Princess Cadance herself. They’re the best of the best.”

“Good… and what about the rest of the crew?”

“Our classmates know you and trust you,” Steel said. “But the newcomers seem hesitant. Cautious. They’re not comfortable being under the command of a thestral. But if they see you’re capable and competent, they’ll warm up.”

Emerald nodded. He hoped so. The last thing he needed was to be deep inside enemy territory and with a crew that didn’t trust him when it mattered most.

“Sir,” Steel said, “Now that we’re underway, you should get some rest.” He held out his hand, revealing two pills on his palm.

“No, no, I’m fine,” Emerald said, waving Steel off. “If everyone else can get up at an ungodly hour to set off at an even more ungodly hour, then so can I.”

“But you can’t lead if you’re exhausted. They’ll see that, and it’ll reflect badly on you.”

“And it won’t reflect badly on me if their captain is taking a nap minutes after the mission has started?”

Steel extended his hand a little further. “I’ll tell them you were up all night reading briefings and intelligence reports.”

Emerald knew he shouldn’t take the pills; he needed to be in the control room, or walking around the sub, showing his crew that he was interested in their welfare and wanted to know the newcomers who hadn’t worked with him… but Steel was right. If he was yawning every thirty seconds as he visited compartment after compartment, his crew would notice that. If he wanted to make good first impressions, he needed to do it when fully awake and fully rested.

Sighing, he took the pills.

"I’ll send someone to check on you in a few hours,” Steel said. Then, without waiting for a reply, he nodded, left, and closed the hatch behind him.

Getting a glass of water, Emerald gulped down the pills. He discarded his long coat, then his dress uniform; sleeping in it would be bad form—waking up with it wrinkled and saggy would also be a bad look for him. It was a good thing it all came off so quickly and easily, as the pills were rapidly kicking in—Emerald felt a heavy, welcoming drowsiness dragging him down into forced sleep. He barely made it to his bunk to haphazardly lie down before his eyes closed, before darkness consumed him.

In a final moment of defiance before he drifted away, an intrusive thought flashed in his mind: this would be the last time he’d get a chance to truly rest. He was still on the honeymoon phase with his crew, and from here on out, he’d have to prove himself each and every day. An easy enough task with those who had worked with him… but not so much with those who saw him as a threat and a traitor.

The thought echoed through Emerald’s mind as he fell into darkness, and the sweet embrace of sleep finally overtook him.