Merdock scrambled up onto the side of Collapsible boat A, watching the crowd storm forward, screaming in rage, terror, and a number of emotions the Unicorn couldn’t even begin to determine. One Pegasus shouted, “Give us a chance to live, you limey bastards!”
The Unicorn officer fired his gun into the air twice, having remembered to load it, “I’ll shoot any stallion who tries to get past. Mares and foals only!”
Kale stepped up to him, “We had a deal. Remember?”
Merdock reached into his coat and pulled out the stack of bills, tucking it casually back into the rich stallion’s breast pocket, “Get back.”
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Tommy felt himself being shoved forward, a stallion behind him rushing the officer. Two shots rang out, and Tommy tumbled to the deck, skidding along the slick surface, bullet in his chest. The other stallion didn’t fare much better, “I said, stay back!”
Honor charged up to his friend and cradled the bleeding Pegasus in his arms, “Oi, Tommy. You ain’t dead. You ain’. Get up off your lazy British ass.” He watched Tommy’s eyes dim, then close, “Buck you too then.” Tears ran down his face, not that he would ever admit it.
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Merdock looked at the chaos his act had just caused, and stepped up onto the rail, using one hoof on the davit to support himself as he removed his life-belt and flung it to the crowd. A temporary silence crossed the group like a wave as he looked to his men and saluted them. Flawless posture, hoof across his brow precisely, “I am sorry,” he shifted the pistol to his temple, hoof still saluting. A tear formed at the edge of his eye, but never had the chance to slip out. The pistol barked, and fell as the magic holding it, and holding the stallion upright, disappeared. Like a puppet with cut strings, he toppled into the ocean.
The other crew paused only briefly, honoring the dead officer, before working to get more mares and foals into the boat. A purser hollered, using magic to amplify his voice, “Any more mares, foals?”
Kale realized what he had to do to survive. Galloping back to the filly he had seen earlier, he scooped her up and put her on his back, holding her with magic as he pushed through the crowd, “Here’s a child! I’ve got a filly!”
He stopped at the purser and, without blinking, spoke, “Please…I’m all she has in the world!” Not technically a lie. He hadn’t seen any parents or siblings. He may very well have been her only hope.
The purser nodded and pushed him into the boat before waving his gun in the air at the rest of the crowd, keeping them back.
“There, there. It’ll be ok.”
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Shipsmith stood before the fireplace in the first-class smoke room, staring at the large painting of the Titanic above the mantle. A hot fire still blazed in the marble box. Behind him, a table toppled under its own weight, dumping an ashtray on the floor. Jack and Rose rushed in and almost passed him completely, before Rose stopped, “Mr. Shipsmith?” His life-belt was sitting on a still upright table, and his posture, though tall, showed his sorrow, “Won’t you even make a try for it, Mr. Shipsmith?”
His hoof brushed a tear off his cheek, “I’m sorry young Rose. I truly wish I could have built you a stronger ship,” the stallion coughed politely and levitated his life-belt to Rose.
“Rose, it’s going fast. We need to keep moving,” Jack grabbed her hoof and started for the door.
She grabbed the belt out of the air and wrapped it around herself, as the older stallion nodded, “Good luck to you, Rose.”
She hugged him, “And to you as well, Mr. Shipsmith,” she followed Jack out the revolving door.
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The waltz ended, and the band members looked at each-other, the leader, Heartley, nodded to his companions, “Right, that’s it then.”
The others began moving away, towards the remaining boats near the front. The tall stallion placed his violin to his chin and began again. He knew he wasn’t getting off the ship, no point in panic. The soft melody of ‘Nearer, Princess, to thee’, became a sorrowful dirge as tears dripped down his muzzle, settling on the elegant instrument.
The other members of the band stopped, as one, though in different parts of the crowd, and turned back. They took up their places, knowing now, they would be on the ship when it went down, and they accepted that. It was simply how it had to be. They filled out their positions, the music growing in volume as more instruments joined. They were not the only ones playing. The haunting melody sprouted into more as a Third-class guitar strummed into the beat, and a second-class bass, every instrument on deck. Heartley swore he heard a piano join in. Words, then joined in, “If in my dreams I be, nearer, Princess, to thee…” Not a crack, not a sound, but hair on strings, and the sorrowful words, echoing their final destination.
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A stallion offered his life-belt to Captain Smith, who merely pushed it away with his wingtip. Wordlessly, the captain stepped into the bridge, gazing sadly at the fully submerged nose for a moment before stepping back into the enclosed wheelhouse. He closed the door and settled himself comfortably in his chair. Nothing there but him and the dozens of instruments showing the fading heartbeat of the great ship.
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Shipsmith withdrew his pocket-watch and checked the time before reaching a tendril of magic up and adjusting the clock on the mantle. 2:12 a.m. Everything must be correct. Everything he could. His eyes began to cloud with tears, but he wouldn’t break. He was at peace with himself. With the ship he had failed to build strong enough. Only his body now held fear.
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A waterlogged Pegasus filly braced her rear hooves on the ladder, using her entire body to torque the dogs on the sealed hatch open.
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Chief Engineer Bell chewed thoughtfully on his sandwich, tapping his hoof in the water spilling up through the grating, “Aht, not yet Celestia. I’m still eating.”
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Two elderly Griffons settled in their First- Class cabin, pajamas on, holding claws as water swirled around their bed.
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A red maned mare calmly tucked her foals into bed, singing softly, and making sure they were nice and warm.
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Collapsible Boat B floated off the side of the ship, trailing lines behind it as stallions frantically tried to cut it loose. A Griffon, sighing at the slowness, gripped one of the lines in his talons and bit through the thick line like it was made of butter. Stallions dove over the boat, trying to get it upright before it could get too far away.
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Fierce Honor unbuckled the life-belt from Tommy and moved it to himself, “Mamma, I’m so sorry. Goodbye.”
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Water climbed the windows on the front of the wheelhouse, Captain Smith looking on with a blank expression. His eyes told everything. He knew where he was headed, and that it was coming soon. “Celestia, forgive me.” The windows burst, flooding the room with glass and water.
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Collapsible A dove through a wave, washing hundreds overboard. As they attempted to climb back in, frenzied, Kale jabbed them back with an oar, “Get back, you’ll swamp us!”
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A wave sucked Honor beneath a davit, where his hoof tangled in the line. He struggled to free himself as the weight of the rope and the davit pulled him under. Finally, he freed himself, and burst to the surface, gasping for air.
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Heartley lowered his violin, “Gentle-stallions, it has been a privilege to play with you tonight.” Water was nearly to their post, and was already swallowing the forward smoke-stacks. He swallowed, raised the violin again, and continued playing.
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Jack and Rose burst out onto the deck, into a crowd. Chaos everywhere. The entire bridge was underwater from what he could see, “Okay…We keep moving aft. We have to stay on the ship as long as possible.” He started pulling her towards the aft end of the ship.
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Collapsible Boat A slammed into the side of the forward funnel, the stallions on it rowing like mad to get away from the swirling vortex.
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Fierce Honor found himself being forced against the grating of a vent as water hammered down into it, pinning him with tons of force. Even with his prodigious strength, he couldn’t free himself. The last furnace touched water and exploded, hot air shooting up and blasting the stallion free. He surfaced and continued to swim away, panicked.
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Jack scooped Rose up in his arms and leapt over the back rail of A deck, landing deftly in the crowd on B deck. Another stallion, a very large Earth pony in a chef hat, joined them in pushing through the crowd, Jack saving his wings for the final push. At the rail, ponies were leaping into the water.
Before them, a slender stallion staggered forward like a zombie, blocking the path, “Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death…”
Jack pushed the stallion, “You wanna walk a little faster through that valley, pal?” He glanced up at the moon, and swore he could see a twinkle in the eye of the Mare on the Moon, “Oh, thanks Luna. I’d prefer a frikkin boat.”
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The forward smokestack began to lean forward as the stay-cables snapped, whipping through ponies like they weren’t even there. The stack dropped, violently discarding the water in its path, and the ponies unfortunate enough to be there. Honor was flung back, and started swimming as he surfaced, straining to escape as the huge funnel began to suck in everypony close enough to get caught in the whirlpool. The Earth pony refused to die. Not here, not now. He had to get to America, to tell his mother he was alright.
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Another stallion was torn off his hooves and sucked into the still flooding grand staircase as the waves ripped him down the hall. He managed to catch onto a headless Cherub, broken apart by a bullet, and brought himself to a stop, just in time to see the huge glass dome collapse under the weight of the water above it. Icy water tore through the chamber, swallowing everything it couldn’t destroy outright as it swirled into the First-class dining hall.
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The rearmost smoke-stack, actually an empty pipe just there for the look, was tilted at a significant angle when a little waterlogged filly burst out of the hatch in the bottom. She tucked her head back into the tall tunnel, and shouted, “Chief, I got it open!”
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Chief Engineer Bell continued chewing on his sandwich. Sure, he could swim over and start climbing the tunnel to the surface, but he was still hungry, and wet sandwiches were unpleasant to eat. Besides, it wasn’t like he should have even still been alive. The water around his hooves was icy, but he could see where it had been boiling as it had curled over the bulkhead from the last boiler room. At least, for a few more seconds. The lights went out as he placed the last bite in his mouth and deliberately started chewing as slowly as possible, “Not yet.” Besides, the surface crew needed those lights. He grabbed his flashlight and dove back to work, chewing as he forced what steam was left in the lines, what power remained in the massive dynamos, to bring Titanic to life for just a few more minutes.
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Water tore through unflooded corridors, shattering doors into splinters and crushing any pony caught in it. Third-Class passengers still trapped by a gate had no chance. The gate was torn apart, but so were they.
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Rose struggled to climb the stairs as they tilted increasingly steeper. The chef, breath strong with alcohol Jack couldn’t identify, mumbled, “Sorry Miss,” and shoved his muzzle square into Rose’s backside, lifting her on his head, up to the top of the stairs. Still in shock from everything else, Rose barely noticed the unwelcome act, and Jack didn’t even hear it, as focused as he was on making it to the rail, Rose’s hoof wrapped in his tail.
Hundreds of ponies dove overboard as the ship tilted more severely. The bronze propellers, no longer near the water, gleamed like Celestia’s crown. One stallion slipped off the rail, and before he could be caught, slammed head-first into the port propeller, ringing it like a giant bell before sliding off in a smear of saltwater and blood.