Daring Do at Forty Fathoms Deep

Daring Do walked down the blue hallway, following the yellow line until she reached a door. The door was solid steel, and beside it was an access pad. Daring looked to a small sign beside the door that simply read, ‘Pump Room.’ Sighing, she rubbed her left eye with a hoof.

“As good a lead as any in order get to the exterior of this place.”

Daring stared at the pad. The buttons were large enough to accommodate her hoof, but she was concerned about the possibility of an alarm. She scrutinized the buttons, and found the numbers that seemed to be the most faded were four, two, one, and three.

“Two, one, three, four,” Daring whispered as she pushed the buttons. A small beep and and a red light informed her that the code was wrong. “Three, two...” Daring facehooved as it dawned on her. Clearing the selection, she entered in the passcode. “One, two, three, four.” The panel flashed green twice and the door unlocked. “Typical.”

Daring walked through the door and wandered into a room with a ramp leading downwards, and a walkway to the left. After she went down the ramp, she turned to the right and saw a pool filled with water. It looked to be about thirty feet deep, with an open pipe nestled in one of the corners. Across the pool, Daring could see a cement pad that held of few tanks, machinery to the right and a few steps leading to a door further along. Beyond it was yet another pool, but this one was empty. Daring leaped over the pool and glided to the concrete platform.

She fluffed her wings nonchalantly before walking to the door and trying to open it. When the door failed to yield, she looked at the side and gave a disheartened sigh when she saw that there was a keycard reader for this door.

“Now where am I supposed to go?” Daring fussed before a clicking sound made her ears flip up.

She spun around and saw a diamond dog with a flame thrower. Daring jumped to the side just as a jet of flames blew towards her with all the enraged heat of a dragon pining over the loss of a gem. Daring cried out as the fire grazed her wings and set them alight. Acting quickly, she dove into the pool of water, breathing deeply before plunging in. She felt the flames extinguish as they were cut off from the air.

Before she could declare victory though, there was still the matter of the fire-dog. She flipped around only to see a constant stream of fire pushing at the water, trying to get at her. Daring looked about for some way to get out of the water without immediately re-exposing herself to the torrent of burning death. She looked at the pipe in the bottom and panic shone in her eyes before they hardened to a determined glare. She flared out her wings, which stung from having been nearly cooked. She flapped them and propelled herself towards the pipe and kept swimming.

The pipe had grated openings on the sides every so often, but Daring continued, not wanting to waste time opening potential dead ends. As she continued, a pulling sensation tugged at her mane when she realized that the water was being pumped somewhere. Daring tried to backpedal with her wings to a grate, but was pushed along the tunnel. A dull ache in her lungs marked her body reaching its limits.

As she approached another grate, she flipped about and aimed her hooves to buck it on the side where it was sticking out. The kick landed with a solid, but ineffective thud that failed to move the grate. The current continued to drag her down the pipe before she saw it terminate in another grate. Her eyes widened as the ache in her lungs built to a burning agony.

She almost breathed through her nose before pushing the salty water out with a precious bubble of air. Opening her wings, Daring began to go with the current, gaining speed and momentum. Moments before making contact, she tucked in her hind hooves and bucked the grate, knocking it loose. She passed through, lungs screaming in agony before the pipe entered the flow of water into a filling pool. She gasped for air as the water level continued to rise. Her lungs began to calm as she listened intently.

“Stupid pony! Drown in pipes!” Daring looked up to the ledge on her left and recognized the door from earlier. She was still in the pump room.

A great big circle, but I doubt he knows that. The water continued to fill the pool while the diamond dog gloated over his unproven trophy. Daring pulled herself out of the water as slowly as she could, making sure not to make any unneeded amount of noise. She stalked towards the diamond dog, who was now hopping up and down, singing a jig in celebration.

“Down came the flame and burned the pony out!”

Daring noticed a card sticking out of the pocket of the diamond dog’s trousers. Daring carefully picked it out of the pocket with her teeth. Smiling, Daring continued the ditty with her own improvised line.

“Up came the mare and bucked the dog’s snout!”

The diamond dog turned around just in time for Daring to make good on her promise. Her hooves planted themselves cleanly in the middle of the dog’s face, knocking him into the water. The diamond dog struggled as the flamethrower’s weight dragged him down to the bottom of the pool. Daring casually slipped the keycard into the reader, opening the door. The diamond dog surfaced, sans flamethrower, just as Daring closed the door and locked it behind her. She casually walked past the panels of the control room while the diamond dog bashed his fists into the metal wall. Daring opened a door at the opposite end of the room and trotted out into another corridor.

Daring breathed a sigh of relief before she turned back and stretched her wings.  They stung in protest from the motion, but extended fully. Almost all her feathers, and all her primaries, were charred, blackened or otherwise useless for flight now.

Continuing on, she soon saw a door with a large window set on the top portion. Bracing her hooves on the frame, she peered outside to look at the mottled sky and churning teal of the ocean. She turned the handle, smiled to find it was unlocked, and opened the door to step outside.

“Ahhh!” The wind slapped at her face and ruffled her coat and mane. The crisp bite of salt in the air stung at her nostrils and tongue. She listened to the breeze whizzing by her ears as she opened her eyes, and went down the stairs to the rest of the catwalk.

The walkway clung to the underside of the rig in a haphazard fashion, with chunks missing and the whole affair creaking as waves lapped at the rig, like a hungry hound begging its master for a scrap.

Taking a step to the first gap, Daring mentally calculated the distance. I need to be careful; I mess up with my wing like this, and I’m out for the count. She bent down into a crouch, then uncoiled her legs in a leap towards the rest of the walkway.

Thwip-Tang!

She landed on the walkway and turned to see what the noise had been. Buried three inches into the steel exterior of the oil rig was a steel bolt with patches of rust along its length.

Following the direction of the bolt, she saw a diamond dog fiddling with what looked like a massive crossbow. He was covered in a waterproof rubber frog-suit, with two air tanks strapped to his back and attached to his face via a hose and mask.

Placing a bolt into the crossbow again, the ‘frog-dog’ aimed at Daring. She hopped back in time for the bolt to cut through the catwalk and embed itself in the rig. Trotting to the next gap, and keeping an eye on the dog, Daring braced herself to jump. When she saw the water-logged canid aiming, she leapt of the the gap to the satisfying sound of another bolt missing her.

She poked her head over the side of the catwalk, and stuck out her tongue. “You’re going to need a bigger crossbow!”

Just then, three more diamond dogs surfaced and pointed more weapons at Daring.

“Oh dear.” Leaping away from the threat, she began galloping down the catwalk as two more dogs poked their heads out of the ocean and joined the attempts to shishkebab the mare.

She leapt onto another portion of the catwalk just before one of the cables supporting it snapped. The walkway tilted quickly, and Daring had to grasp at the safety rail with her hoof as more bolts sailed past her head. Summoning the strength of her forehooves, the injured pegasus hoisted herself back onto a flat section of the catwalk as a bolt brushed against the frog of her hoof.

Wasting no time, she kicked off the shaky walkway and up the stairs.