//------------------------------//
// Block of Ice 
// Story: Titanic 
// by Imperator Chiashi Zane 
//------------------------------//

“Eh, Lee…Lookit that would’ja.”
“They’re a bloody sight warmer than we are, pal.”
“Well, if that’s what it takes for us two to get warm, I’d rather not, if that’s alright with you.”
Both look-outs laugh at each-other and lean back into the cloud pile in the nest.  The laughter slowly settled, then cut off abruptly as two pairs of eyes spotted a giant glint of ice just a half kilometer out.  Two muzzles went white.  In the kind of synchronicity only present in close friends and family, two voices hollered, “Oh, Bugger ME!”
Two hooves slammed down on the telephone button as Fleet dove over the side of the tower.  It was a ten meter vertical drop, then fifteen meters back to the flying bridge.  The telephone could take as much as sixty seconds to cast the iceberg warning.  Fleet could fly it in ten.  His wings snapped out, and he darted back, tumbling onto the cross-walk, then into the flying-bridge, hollering “ICEBERG OFF THE PORT BOW!”
Up on the tower, Leeward continued hammering on the button, “Oy!  Pick up you bastard!”
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Sixth officer Moody glanced at the telephone, ringing beside him in the wheelhouse, before hefting it in his magic, “Yes?”
“Iceberg, Starboard ahead!”
“Thank you,” he hung up and flicked the phone over to Officer Merdock, no answer.
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Officer Merdock let out a shout as a Pegasus crashed into the flying bridge, shouting.  Immediately, his instincts took over.  He grabbed the engine telegraph in his magic as he galloped back to the bridge-proper, “Hard a’ Starboard!”
The stallion at the wheel, Quartermaster Hitchens, threw himself into the wheel, cranking it hard over.
The engine telegraph echoed out as Merdock dragged it to ‘Full Speed Astern.
Moody entered the bridge from the wheel-house, behind, “Hard a’…Ah.”
Hitchins responded, “Hard a’ Starboard, Sir.  The helm is hard over.”
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Engineer Bell heard the engine telegraph chime, and glanced up from his soup.  Probably another speed-up notice.  A moment later, when the green marker slid over Full Speed Astern, he coughed out the soup that was already in his mouth, “Ah…”
A few moments passed as he and the other engineers on lunch stared at it in shock, “Huh…”
Bell caught on first, this was not a joke, never could be.  He leapt to his feet and ran to the messenger station, where three coal-dusted Pegasi were settled in for a quick nap, “Up!  Full Astern!  Full Astern!”
He grabbed the microphone for the engine-room address system, “Full Astern!  Full Astern!  This is not a drill, Full Astern!”
Engineers, Greasers, and Messengers rushed across the ship, moving to close off valves, turn others open, and start braking the tree-sized axle shafts.
In the central engine room, the watch engineer heard the shout of a messenger as the filly shot through the door, barely missing clipping her wings on the steel edges.  He snapped around and shouted, powerful Earth pony lungs carrying his voice in a broad bellow, “SHUT ALL DAMPERS!  SHUT ALL DAMPERS!”
The filly dropped onto his chair, gasping.  Near the aft end of the ship, the message took almost six seconds by telephone, if he heard it ringing over the roar of the engines.  It took a trained Pegasus just over three, if they knew what they were doing.  Obviously, this filly did.  He grabbed a glass, and checked that it was at least moderately clean before filling it under the tap and handing it to her, “Drink up, little one.  Quite a run there, don’t you think.”  After letting her drink down half the glass, he pulled it back, “Breathe, filly.  What’s the emergency?”
She panted out, “No idea.  Chief Bell just interrupted our nap.  Guess it was a three bell.”
“Aye,” he lifted the phone and pressed the button to connect to the head engineering room.
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Merdock watched the iceberg come closer, straight ahead now.  The bow started creeping to the port side.  His jaw locked up as he the bow came around slowly.  Tensing for the impact, he could do nothing bat watch as the horrid example of Newton’s laws came into being.
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Leeward Spot braced himself in the cloud.
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A loud crunch echoed through the ship as it collided with the iceberg.  In the hold, the hull buckled in, spraying rivets and pressurized water across the deck, sweeping away the two stewards, and nearly taking Lovejoy’s tail with it.  The Earth pony scrambled up the stairs, charging up as fast as he possibly could in an effort to get to safety.
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Fierce Honor fell out of his bunk, rolling across the floor to the echoing squeal of metal on ice.
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Thunder roared through the forward boiler rooms as plates buckled and water sprayed in a leg-span from the deck.
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Jack and Rose broke their kiss as the iceberg came past, chunks being broken off by the impact and dropped to the deck.  “Hey!  Watch where you’re steering!” Jack hollered up at the bridge.
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Merdock slammed his hoof into the Watertight Door Alarm, “Hard a’ port!”  A glance out the side showed the iceberg to be approximately amid-ships.  Maybe using the berg as a pivot, he could keep the stern clear enough to motor to safety.
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Down in the boiler room, amidst the screams of water pouring over hot coals, the engineers and stokers dove through the door as it closed slowly, almost guillotining a hoof off one, “Go Colts!  Go! Go! Go!”
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Jack and Rose glanced down the side of the hull, leaning on the now bent railing, “Geez.  Cut that one close.”
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Shipsmith looked up from his ever-present little notebook, at the chiming crystal light fixture overhead.  The shudder of the ship reached him, and he quivered.  Too much of his own heart and soul were in the ship for him to not know.  He gulped, and closed the book, calmly.  There was no reason to panic.  More lives would be lost that way, “Sweet Celestia.  I know you’re sleeping right now, but I could really use some help right now.  I bucked up, pretty bad.”  The mutters were more to himself, and any still awake ponies just gave him the wide berth given to eccentrics who wandered around at two in the morning, muttering to themselves.
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Mossy Brown raised a glass to her lips.  It was nearly morning, and she was just about to turn in, not noticing the wall of ice passing just outside her stateroom window.
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Leeward glared down at his mate as the other Pegasus flew back up to the nest.
“Oy, mate…That was a close shave.”
“Smell ice, can you?  Sweet Celestia!”
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Merdock started at the ocean, tuning out the bells and alarms as his mind moved into analysis mode.  He had just run the world’s largest ship into an iceberg, on her maiden voyage.  He was so fired.  No hope for his career.  Down the drain.  What in tartarus was he going to do now, “Note the time.  Enter it in the log.”
Captain Smith rushed onto the bridge, shirt unbuttoned, airborne as he tried to pull his pants securely around his waist, “What was that, Mr. Merdock?”
“An iceberg sir.  I put her hard a’ starboard, and ran the engines full astern, but it was too close.  I tried to port around it, but she hi…and I…”
“Close the emergency doors.”
“Already done, Sir.”
The captain wheeled to face his fourth Officer, “Boxhall, get to the carpenter, and get him to sound the ship.”
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Fierce Honor stepped out of his room, rubbing his shoulder where it had dented the bunk leg on the other side of the room, “Wha…”  Rats were running down the halls.  A couple of Griffon chicks were chasing them with sticks and tongs.  Food, to them at least, “Ma..Che cazzo!”
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Further forward, Fabrizio and Jack’s pianist friend jumped out of bed, and jerked back, wings lifting him into the air with a yelp.  He bucked the light switch, and stared at the pool of water on the deck.  Bucking the door open, he started down the corridor, towards Fabrizio, howling and pounding on doors.
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“Why have the engines stopped?”  A first-class mare in a robe and slippers looked at the steward in the hall, “I felt a shudder.”
“I shouldn’t worry ma’am.  We’ve likely thrown a propeller blade, that’d be the shudder you felt.  May I bring you anything?”
Shipsmith galloped past, clutching a pile of papers in his magic, and trailed by Boxhall with another magic-load of files.
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“Looks fine to me, ‘cept this rail here.  I don’t see anything else.”
“Could it have damaged the ship?”
Jack laughed, “I doubt it.  Didn’t seem like much of a bump, and this ship’s supposed to be magically enhanced to withstand small shocks.  We’ll be ok.”
Behind him, a couple of colts, woken by the impact, were kicking around several of the chunks of ice.
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Honor was at the middle of a crowd of passengers working their way aft, his duffel slung across his back as he splashed up through the water, “If this is the direction the rats are running, it’s good enough for me.
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Bright Island, wearing just a topcoat, hurried towards the bridge, passing a steward trying to get concerned passengers back into their rooms.
“No cause for alarm, ma’am.  Please go back to your room.”
The steward is stopped by Kale, who grabbed his collar.  “Please, Sir.  There is no emergency.”
“Yes there certainly is, I have been robbed.  Now get the Master-at-arms.  Now, you moron!”
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Captain Smith looked at the level on the dash-board, “A five degree list in less than ten minutes.”
Carpenter Carved Wood stepped onto the bridge, “She’s taking on water fast…In the forepeak tank and forward holds, in boiler room six.”
Island entered the bridge, “Why have we stopped?”  Anger tore his face in half as he stormed up to Captain Smith.
“We’ve struck an iceberg.”  Nothing but the facts here.  Getting angry right back would only make it worse.
Island seemed to calm down slightly, “Well, do you think the ship is seriously damaged?”  His question was clearly more along the lines of ‘Will we be in Amareica for tea on Tuesday?’
Smith glared, then pushed past the stallion, following Shipsmith and Boxhall into the wheelhouse with Carved Wood on his tail.  The door slammed and a kick to the lock made it clear Island was not allowed to join the conversation.
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Stokers and colliers struggled to keep the fires lit, sloshing through knee deep water as messengers filled their message bags with wet coal and piled it atop the boilers to dry it out enough to feed into the hungry furnaces.
Chief Bell broke into the boiler room, shouting, “That’s it lads!  Get up here, ‘fore Tartarus opens up!”
They quickly began scrambling, the larger messengers taking some of the lighter colliers up, speeding the process.
In the stern, messages had been passed to keep the remaining boilers running as long as possible.  Chief Bell would inform the stallions when it was time to go.
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Several gentle-stallions joined Jack and Rose on the deck, admiring the view, and barely noticing the ice chunks on the deck, some still being kicked around.
Another joined them, “Say, did I miss the fun?”
Heads shook sadly, “I believe we all did.”
Rose and Jack slipped away, leaving the nobles behind, just in case one of them noticed Rose, and was looking for her, unlikely as Jack figured it was that the tracker had asked others to help.