The first full day of being underway is always the most fun. Why? Because it is cleaning day, of course! This is the day where virtually everypony on the ship takes up duties of cleaning their own areas around the ship. The only exceptions were those a part of the bridge crew or the operations room.
That changed for me this time. Three times, and I have finally struck out. A change of shifts for this day only has me on call for radar duty, thus meaning, there's floors to scrub somewhere. A surplus of sailors qualified for what I do meant my job became part-time, only four days a week for five weeks. That does not count evenings and nights as long as the replacements aren't in sick bay.
For as pitiful of a job mopping the berthing floors and scrubbing doorway frames until they shone under the light is, it felt questionably satisfying to be doing something else on the ship for a change. Not that I find much enjoyment in cleaning to begin with, but, out here, it gave a different sense than if I am at home cleaning our dorm, or my apartment in Canterlot.
According to Shadow, as well as a few other ranking sailors I have come across, it 'builds teamwork'. That is the same excuse our drill instructor used back in boot camp. I can't say for sure if that is an accurate way to describe it for the simple fact that I am on my own for the time being. There were some others performing their own tasks, like cleaning and remaking racks, polishing portholes, stuff like that.
I suppose it is wrong to complain. Mopping isn't the worst come to think of it, and I am least likely to catch a cold or the flu doing it as compared to the unlucky ones stuck with scrubbing out toilets thoroughly by hoof. Mine would be under running water every few minutes if that were the case, knowing my habits.
Even regardless of making my rounds through each and every berthing and rack space, slicking the floors with filthy-becoming disinfectant and carrying around a bucket full of it to dip the old mop in, I was yet to see anypony else. Not Night, not Anchorage, not even Ash, and especially not Silver. There remained to be a mental-written list of mine filled with questions to ask him now that I at least know that his assigned ship had not been switched.
He had some sort of tendency to avoid us no matter what, particularly me. I figured Anchorage might catch him around the ship somewhere since he usually never stood in one place. Something somewhere is continually in need of repair, and he is on the spot whenever, suggesting trips to the operations room—where Silver now works—are constant for all of the tech that it consisted of.
I held solid doubt that Silver would steer clear of the four of us the whole five weeks. The likelihood of such being accomplished can only be minimal, and if succeeded, would be mildly disappointing on his part. What did not make any sense to us is the question of why he is doing it. It isn't like our opinions on him have changed because of what he did while we were away. Surely he cannot believe we are upset with him, can he?
As far as weather conditions went, however, for the first (technically second) day of deployment, they could not be at all better. Particularly sunny skies, crystal visibility, light winds and calm waves, a balmy 76 degrees, and very little clouds anywhere across the horizon made for ideal sailing weather. No one could conceivably ask for a more superior day, and it looked to continue on for a week or more at least. Frankly, someone could get away with dozing off at the helm and there would be nothing to fret about. Some of the chiefs in the galley even joked about opening the flight deck for sun tanning. Unfortunately, that did not settle well with the few who fell for their humor as a serious statement.
Were the Eclipse a destroyer, what they say might be different. Sometimes the higher-ups treat sailors to a relaxation time in the form of swim call where the ship is brought to a halt in the water and those volunteering take a plunge into the water to cool off. The other less-common option is sitting out on the weather decks, around the Mark 45's—which are the front artillery guns on most guided-missile destroyer vessels.
In my experiences, not once has Shadow announced a swim call. Then again, this would mark one of the few times we have sailed in picturesque weather. Last time we were in a hurricane, and the time before that, it was foggy, and we were boarded, and before that, my first deployment, there were only a few patches of sun here and there accompanied by an unwavering inclement, gloomy atmosphere. So, perhaps he will mention it this time if all goes to plan. Not that I would step up to the plate for it anyhow for... reasons.
By evening, at last, I reached the final few rooms ordered for mopping up. Already they seemed to be in tip-top shape upon stepping over the frame lip and inside. The floors themselves were in satisfactory condition, though not exceptional. I could probably get away with not touching this room, but I wasn't about to risk a lecture despite my exhaustion from circling the ship.
As I went to work on the last room, my ear swiveled, catching on to the close-by shouting of somepony from the hall a few doors down. Judging by his volume and tone, one with understanding and knowledge of deployments could effortlessly determine that it was a chief, and whoever it was that he had dragged to the side and honed in on, I could only sympathize for them.
For a couple moments, the clamor did stop, only to return just in time for me to step outside and make my way back across the ship to leave the mop and bucket where I had taken them from. I rounded a corner, and in that instant, came to a halt just a few feet into the corridor. Stood there partially blocking the narrow space was Silver Edge, his rear merely a couple of inches from the wall with a cream-white earth pony looming over him.
Almost as soon as I had turned the corner and stopped a few paces down from them, the chief snapped his glower to the left and redirected it my way. His bright gold eyes flicking a wrathful bile with flaming daggers that dug in to my soul prompted me to back off, slowly disappearing around the same corner I had come from. There I waited for him to finish with Silver. This would be my chance to speak with him at long last.
"I-I'm sorry, Chief. It will not h-happen again!" he stammered out, throwing up a shaky and mediocre salute, which the pale-coated stallion promptly did not give in return before stomping off. When the chief disappeared through a door, Silver allowed himself to relax, leaning against the wall and sighing in a mildly depressive manner.
I leaned my head around to peek, proceeding toward Silver when I had determined that the coast is clear. From the direction he faced, he did not notice me approaching from behind.
I stopped a couple paces short of the beige unicorn, briefly studying him before I said, "Silver? You alright?"
His ear flicked and turned, before he glanced over his shoulder. A gentle nod followed, as well as a weakly reassuring smile. "Yeah, I'm fine."
I set the bucket and mop down against the wall. "What was that all about?"
Silver shifted himself to face me a bit more properly. At least he didn't try and walk away from me. "Kinda broke his second favorite coffee mug when cleaning it out, so he chewed me on that. Among other things..." he trailed off.
"Other things?" I blinked. "Silver, where have you been? We go away for one week and when we get back, you turned in your uniform for a squid's?"
"It's... well. There's a reason behind it. I meant to let you guys know, I swear! In fact, I was going to make that announcement the week you guys left. That... was why I couldn't come along, I had too much paperwork and stuff that needed finished for the process to move along. I'm sorry," he explained with a frown.
"So, I... guess this means you are no longer a member of the 25th?" I casually questioned, managing to retain a half smile to mask the dismay inside despite its evidence in the tone of my inquiry.
Silver blinked with confusion. "What? Oh," his eyes grew moderately wide. "I'm... afraid not. But, hey, this was the original plan," he added, giving a trifling smile in return.
"Was it... that day in basic, the day it was pouring cats and dogs outside and you chose not to run to your own barrack in it, so you asked me if you could spend the night?" I remarked, my lower lids faintly squinting.
The beige unicorn, looking quite shocked with my recollection of that day, responded with a gentle nod. "It was."
"And, you... you knew you were in the wrong place. So why didn't you, you know, sneak back to the right place or let somepony know?" my head cocked a little.
"Who was I supposed to ask?" Silver grunted, his smile having wiped itself away. "I knew I was in deep shit when I got filed with your training section. Somepony evidently fucked up the records and failed to point it out after we graduated."
"Well... was it your first day?"
"I... yes. No. Second day. Either way," he waved his hoof. "I just went along with it, and then..." he stopped immediately.
I noticed his ears lost their perk, and instantly I knew what he was on about now. "That bad, huh?" I said, furrowing my eyebrow unsuspiciously.
His head bobbed in a slow nod. "I... I enlisted... to serve under my uncle, Star. To this day I still have not met him in person, mainly because he is just so busy himself on the Gibbous. I was hoping transferring might help that day come a lot sooner, but... I'm still stuck on this blasted carrier. But, yes, it was... that... where I'd had enough."
Silver briefly checked around us to ensure no one was nearby to eavesdrop. "I enjoyed my time as a Marine while it lasted. That deployment where they blew a hole in the ship and started boarding, it..." his voice began to crack and breaths became short with tears forming in his eyes. "I did not think it could get any worse than that. But it did. And then we lost Solar, and then..."
"Hey. Stop." I lifted my hoof to his shoulder and placed it there, leaning only a couple inches closer. "Silver, look at me."
Breaking his minor state of hyperventilation, a pair of glassy, dark magenta cores raised to meet my own directly. I greatly noted the pain deep in them, masked by the collecting tears in his eyes. I could finally see what had gone overlooked for this long, and it created an throbbing ache in my heart.
"Silver, I-I..." my tongue stumbled over the words in guilt. "Have I been neglecting you? We, I mean? Or is it just I?"
His ears perked straight up and he recoiled. "What? No. No! Neglecting?" he let off a short laugh, one that reeked purely of flawed denial. My ear twitched and I raised an eyebrow in question, this faltering his smile. "The only pony you have neglected, Star, is yourself."
The hairs of my coat bristled under my uniform, blinking with puzzlement at his comment. "What do you mean by that?"
Silver's expression had transitioned from a smile, to a frown, and now took a flatly dour image. "The psychiatrist you have been visiting. Pastel, was it?" I nodded. "I went and spoke to her while you were off in Coltlumbus for personal purposes. I mentioned you to her, we had a bit of small talk, and she... told me something."
I didn't think of anything best kept under wraps that I have discussed with her, so I naturally replied with, "Yeah?"
The steely look on Silver's face strengthened. "Are you seeing somepony, Star?"
Again, I hadn't a clue of what he meant, tilting my head in bewilderment. "Huh?"
"Are you... with somepony, should I put?" he mused, lightly motioning his hoof in front of him. "A shipmate, or a fellow Marine?"
My entire body froze over in an instant, only now realizing what direction this conversation was headed. I could not make out whether or not he noticed this reaction, and I could feel my face simultaneously turn red and pale if it were possible. No, please, not this. Anything but this.
"Me, w-with a shipmate?" I sputtered. "That's insane, Silver," I deflected, trying to chuckle it off. "I would land in serious trouble if that were the truth."
"But you are with somepony. A stallion, I should add. Ray Blitz?" he continued, lowering his voice somewhat.
Once more, my blood ran cold. For a moment I felt my heart stop completely in my chest. My jaw hung partially slack as I scrambled for a response. "How... wh—how on earth did you find out?!" I almost screamed in shock, falling back a couple paces, my pupils becoming marbles in size.
"I told you. She was the one who brought it up. I don't think it was on purpose, though, because she looked paranoid after the fact."
"Silver, I... th-that's none of your business!" I snapped, reserving my volume to just a loud whisper between us two. "That's a breach of fucking confidentiality!"
"I know," he nodded apologetically. "And I am sorry, Star. But, you have my word that this is just between you, and me. That is completely up to you to tell the others."
I stomped my hoof on the floor out of anger reflex, the force instead spouting the energy right back up my arm to my shoulder somewhat painfully. My maw opened to speak, but no words came out, as if my mind had shut off as soon as they hit my tongue. A moment after, I felt my ears no longer standing up straight as the mood within completely reset, and my gaze descended to the floor.
"Hey. Your secret is safe with me, man," Silver added encouragingly, setting his hoof on my chest to grab my attention. Upon glancing up, I found him to be beaming with a coy smile.
My ears never quite perked back up, though they were not pinned flat to my skull any longer. I only worked out a far fainter one in return, keeping quiet as he spoke up again.
"I'm not one to judge. Not like my past self, that is. Prejudiced Silver is no more," he laughed blamelessly. "As long as you are happy, who am I to say otherwise?"
I looked up from the floor, giving him a slow nod. Despite his protests otherwise, deep down, I still felt like utter shit for various reasons.
"Listen to me. It will be our secret and absolutely no one else's awareness. I will leave it all up to you to decide on when you want to come out to the others. That is all you, Star. You get me?"
I stared in silence, scrutinizing him and his words for a couple of seconds before I replied with another nod. "Thank you. But, let me be real honest with you for a minute, I am not too certain that we are... you know, a thing. Like, he never..."
Silver tilted his head, much like a dog in question of its owner. "Do you consider each other that way?"
"I... don't know." I glanced off to the side and down. "We have only ever seen each other in person a few times, too few to really form any kind of verdict. I think. Is that how this works?" he shrugged, then I sighed. "We have had conversations through a computer more often than not, whenever one of us can't see the other physically. That's what I am hoping to do while we're out here since I now know it is there to use."
"And... you are certain that you have feelings for him? I'm not saying it is, buuuut, it could be... I don't know, late hormones? Or perhaps you saw something that influenced it?"
"No. No, no!" I shook my head firmly. "No, Silver. I don't know. I..." a deep sigh slipped out, relaxing my muscles. "I brought it up to Pastel because I didn't know what it was. I suppose I have never been in an actual, live relationship to say much. But, I know for a fact that I did not see something that made me decide, hm, I like colts now! You get me?"
Silver nodded comprehensively. "I get you, one-hundred percent. But what do you think is what I am asking? What are your feelings?"
"Me?" I blinked, impulsively looking above him at the wall, pondering on the question for a second. "My feelings are... that this... might be who I am."
"Why do you query?" he asked for clarity.
"Because I am confused. I've never had to face such a question in my life before. Signing my life away so I could join the Marines was hefty enough, but that is something completely different. The only true similarity is both play major contributing factors in my fate. I haven't needed to think about love or who I want to spend my life with beyond the simple boundaries of friendship. I'm nineteen, twenty in a few days. I—"
Silver quickly tapped my arm. "Hold that thought. Happy birthday."
"Thank you," I nodded. "In short, I don't know what the hell is going on anymore. I can't control myself. I get all warm and fuzzy inside when he is around and my brain turns to snow static. I can't get away with simply thinking of his name without, er... craving his attention! That... doesn't sound wrong, does it?" Silver shook his head. I sighed exasperatedly.
"He... is just so, different. He's smart, he's caring, he's... like my opposite, but not at the same time, if that makes any sense! Ray, just... makes me question who I am, who I want to be with. He does a damn fine job of puzzling the fuck out of me."
"Perhaps a relationship is what you need to heal yourself, Star, the missing link to finding your other half again, not to sound overly spiritual. If... he makes you feel that way around him, what's stopping you?"
"I..." my gaze fell limp, fixing on nothing in particular but focused down the center of Silver's blouse. "I don't genuinely know."
The beige unicorn shifted a bit in his posture. "All right. Well, just to clarify in advance, I do not intend brag either, so don't assume that I am. I met a nice mare not too long ago, has a genuine merit to her when we talk, and, she has actually helped me some nights when I am down there. And, well, she gave me her number, so..."
"Wait." I threw my hoof up for him to stop mid-sentence. "You have a marefriend?"
Silver's body noticeably grew tense at that, though not remotely close to my reaction prior. "She is just a friend. For right now, that is," he wholeheartedly answered, a feeble shade of pink appearing on his cheeks.
"Silver Edge, with a mare?" I bantered to lighten the mood. "Hey, good for you. I'm glad. What's her name?"
He brought a hoof up to the back of his head, scratching, then readjusting his cover. "Velvet, er... Berry. Velvet Berry. And... by not too long ago, I mean, more like... I have known her since before I enlisted. We have been friends for quite some time, and... it was her who took initiative."
"Ah. Friend from school?" I kept my expression light.
Silver shrugged. "Something of that sort. We, uh... hung out quite a bit with some of her friends, walked around town, basically day-to-day best-friend stuff. We never really developed feelings for one another then, so, her father was fine with me for that reason."
A benevolent chuckle escaped between my lips, the smile on my muzzle widening slightly. "Bet that has since changed."
"Velvet's out on her own now, runs a bakery in Wingstown. She has always had a passion for sweet treats, never didn't bake something for an occasion whether it be a birthday or a national holiday."
"She sounds like a kind mare. You will have to introduce me to her some day."
"As with yours," he came back with a smirk. I merely rolled my eyes, grumbling.
"When I am ready, Silver," I stated firmly.
"Of course," he nodded in agreement. "I shall respect that."
I seconded his nod. "Thank you for understanding."
"Thank you for not killing me for knowing too much," he joked, which earned him a merciful slug in the shoulder.
Before either of us could say another word, alarms rang out in the halls. We both froze in place and looked around in confusion, exchanging mutual looks and questioning just what was going on. Sailors emerged from different doorways and began running in all directions, some still buttoning their blouses on their way out. Then came the announcement from the bridge.
"On board Eclipse, we have reports from the flight deck of a pony overboard. Repeat, reports of a chemlight in the water. We need all hooves to go to muster. Get the lights on in the berthing areas and grab any shipmates out of their racks. All hooves safely and swiftly to muster at once. This is NOT a drill!"
"Shit, man," I looked right at Silver with a knowing glance and we took off in suit, subsequently as another announcement sounded on ship-wide ceiling speakers.
"This is the captain, we have got a chemlight in the waves! Everypony get to their pony overboard stations, on the double!"
***
A pony having fallen overboard is never a good sign, even worse when the sun is setting and there isn't much you can do when visibility of the surrounding area is greatly reduced. Powerful spotlights atop the bridge tower and mast can be manually operated by watchkeepers to scan the waters for any figures who might be flailing around in attempt to be detected, though they are typically not entirely useful for how limited of a range and field they can cover.
Chemlights are provided to strictly crew members working on or around the flight deck, so if one manages to fall off and into the water they can activate it to allow for easy spotting in case nopony initially notices them. I have never personally seen one in action considering there has never been a reason for me to need one of my own which, come to think of it, is a bit of a redundant custom on these ships.
Standard procedure for such occurrences is gather everypony who is not a part of the rescue effort into one place for calling of names. This is to make sure resources are not wasted in a false alarm, such as somepony accidentally dropping theirs into the ocean or intentionally doing so to spark a panic. There is no safe proof from this, however, because everypony is individually checked for their chemlights. Whoever around the flight deck that is missing theirs is immediately written down as a potential suspect assuming no one is found in the water and all crew members are present.
The ship was brought to a complete halt while everypony scrambled to their stations and those on the bridge worked to assess the situation and inform the other ships in the fleet within a fifty mile radius of the Eclipse, knowing a sudden stop in the middle of calm seas can be rather unnerving, especially labeled as a radar signature to separate vessels closely monitoring each others' movement.
A team of four headed hastily to the aft of the boat, or the 'wishbone' as a few referred to it as, where a powered dinghy was at the ready to be lowered into the water and head out to search the area of where the chemlight was spotted. This was not too much of a distance since the ship had immediately begun to slow to an eventual dead standstill the instance somepony reported it in.
Because this was the real deal, it was absolute discord everywhere I went. The muster station in a carrier's protocol is the hangar bay, meaning there were hundreds of confused sailors packed tightly together as division chiefs went around with lists of their respective sections and began calling names one by one to mark them off as safe. Surprisingly, this process went exceptionally deft under the circumstances. Everything was organized smoothly and patiently as we waited for an update.
Being the only ones on the ship in our unit, Night and I stood off to the side among other Marines, including Ashfall, where we would have somepony completely different come and write us down. A sergeant, most likely. Nobody really knows how long we will have to stay put for.
I have been through drills on previous deployments, but they were far less chaotic for the fact that ponies knew ahead of time. The difference here is that no one anticipated this. At least everypony seemed to remain calm and do as ordered. That is what truly matters around here, and everything all of us could ask for is that nopony is actually hurt, but simultaneously feel no compassion for whoever might have done this for shits and giggles. If that is what this turns out to be, not even the princesses themselves can protect their soul from the captain's wrath.
Still, in the event that somepony has fallen overboard and is in the water somewhere, chances of survival even in tranquil seas dwindle with each passing minute. At night, the ocean surface temperature can drop anywhere between forty or fifty degrees fahrenheit, and that is this time of year. In winter, it can get colder than the threshold of freezing but not ice over due to the constant rippling movement along the surface.
On a hot day, that sounds refreshingly cool. But, at night, when the air is roughly sixty degrees if you are lucky, that is frigid. Anypony in the water for a prolonged period of time can fall unconscious from exhaustion anywhere within a thirty to sixty minute window, and perish between one or three hours if not found.
As time went on, rumors spread that the rescue dinghy was deployed. Soon after, word came that the team had found the chemlight used and that nopony was accompanying it. This raised concern among sailors, namely the division chiefs checking and re-checking their lists to make sure everyone is accounted for. This all continued for over a half an hour, long after all light from dusk to the west had vanished. Our only sources of information were the one-in-a-hundred ponies with portable radios in hoof.
Most went as far as sitting down on the cold concrete on the spot while we waited. No one was allowed back to their duties until the captain's word is given. The desperation in the hangar bay swelled by the minute. To our relief, no fellow Marines were missing, yet learning this did not help the situation by much. Considering there were about fifteen total—including myself—out of two thousand, five hundred personnel in all, if anything, that made the efforts tougher.
Without knowing the time, no one really knew what time it was. We were prevented from looking outside for both safety reasons and there being no portholes in the hangar. Not that we would be able to see anything, anyways. It felt like an eternity. Some around were beginning to doze off where they sat, and I couldn't really blame them.
Then, every speaker screeched. The startling noise echoed throughout the enormous room, promptly waking anyone who had fallen asleep from boredom or just plain exhaustion from the long day.
"This is the captain..." the voice began, before a short pause. Everypony's gazes turned to the ceiling impulsively, eagerly awaiting the news. "We got him."
In all honesty, I have never heard celebration so loud in my life. Cheering, stomping, and clapping exploded. A few here and there whistled. I simply smiled and clapped my hooves, thankful for this announcement. To think we all could have lost somepony to the smallest of mishaps tonight, on the second evening since leaving Manehattan, well... it was frightening to say the least.
It wasn't long after until everyone but hangar workers filed out, returning to their berthings, their stations, what ever it was they were doing or now have to do. If there were a watering hole on the ship, I would go ahead and make a careful assumption that the vast majority of everypony would make their way there after all of this. Can you really blame them?
In my case, my hooves took me straight to my rack. I didn't bother to strip any pieces of mine off and ultimately crashed on it straightaway without a second thought. Relief can be downright exhausting after such a tense moment. Not exactly a moment, but, close enough. A quick check of the time on my phone told me it was six after midnight, both definitely past my preferred bed time, and significantly later than previously guessed.
Apart from that, I proceeded with ignoring the already-discovered fact that there is no reception whatsoever, and this threatens my promise to keep tabs on Mom while at sea. I suppose one other option out there was the 'POTS'—otherwise referred to as the plain old telephone system that I can benefit from. They were not too dissimilar than the pay-to-use telephone kiosks on the streets in most large cities or in public buildings, and they served the exact same purpose, courtesy of the Navy.
Allegedly, as mentioned by Anchorage, a wireless internet connection installed on the ship exists, utilized by sailors both for personal purposes and use confidentially for work. I don't know for sure if it would make a difference as far as calling or text messaging goes. Granted, this was my first phone and I am still very much clueless as to how everything works at best. Although, it is still worth a shot, assuming I can sort out the pass code it requires.