Save Our Ship of Dreams

by Fujimi200SX

-.-. --.- -..

I stared boredly out the tower windows, mostly looking down at the seaside railyard where an engine worked to ready a train.

It was just past midnight. Princess Luna’s moon was high in the cloudless sky, lighting up the entirety of the Manehattan Harbor with its surreal glow.

After watching the engine ready the train for long enough, I sighed before stepping away from the window, grabbing a broom and dustpan and sweeping the place clean.

Every few seconds, I looked at the brand-new radio station at the edge of the room, placed in such a way that allowed the best view of the harbor and sea beyond.

The Mareconi Wireless Radio.

It was a brand-spankin-new piece technology that had been created just a month prior. It was to allow us at the harbor to contact ships at sea, which increased safety. Especially in the “sinking ship” department.

At least, it would, if it wasn’t for the fact that only a few select ships would install the radio and the ManeHattan Harbor was the only place with it. About ninety-five percent of the meager number of ships were built for utmost luxury while that last five percent were freight or merchant ships built by ponies who were competent.

I’ve been a telegrapher for a year now. I know my way around morse code. Working on the railroad? That was interesting. Mostly because stuff actually happened.

Here? It wasn’t very good. There was only one railroad line nearby, and nothing happened since it only ran between here and Fillydelphia.

The wireless was even worse. All we would get was rich snobs wanting us to process messages and send them via mail to whoever they pleased.

So on this calm, starlit night, I was indifferent to all of creation. I just wanted to finish cleaning this place, go home, and sleep.

After minutes of cleaning and meandering around, I grabbed my stuff and turned to leave, leaving all the radios on. I turned the lights off and opened the door, but just as I was about to close it, one of the radios started clicking furiously.

I paused for a second to listen to the first few letters, assuming it was just the train outside saying they were ready and about to leave.

> “CQD”

My eyes widened as I turned to see that the letters had not come from the normal radios. They had come from the Mareconi.

Though I wanted so badly to leave, I listened in. And as the message continued, my blood began to run colder and colder.

> "CQD CQD SOS Titanic Position 41.44 N 50.24 W. Require immediate assistance. Come at once. We struck an iceberg. Sinking"

I had only ever heard the fabled CQD transmission twice. Once because a seamare had gotten her seafaring codes mixed with the railroading codes, and once because a luxury ship was stuck with no wind.

But this was different. This was a genuine distress call. From a ship I had never heard of, no less.

Dropping everything and feeling more awake than ever, I sprinted over to the wireless and sat down, thinking for a second before furiously sending my transmission.

> Manehattan Harbor to Titanic. What is your situation?

One minute later, I got a reply.

> Titanic to Manhattan Harbor. We struck a berg. Forward 5 compartments filling with water from starboard. Send immediate assistance. Position 41.44 N 50.24 W

I grabbed a chart of the waters and quickly looked up where those coordinates were. They were about thirty six miles away.

> Estimated time before foundering is 2 hours. 2 30 if we’re lucky. Please come quick. Have 2200 passengers.

My heart skipped a beat. It would take the rescue ships close to three hours to get there. But given the calm weather, strong winds, and the genuine urgency of the situation, they could make it there on time, but barely.

They’d just have to leave within NOW.

> Stand by

I jumped up and grabbed a microphone, slamming my hoof into the alarm button.

“Mayday, Mayday, Mayday,” I said into the microphone, my voice sounding off from various speakers outside. “All ships, we have a passenger ship that has struck an iceberg thirty six miles out. Passenger count twenty-two-hundred. Position is 41.44 degrees North and 50.24 degrees West.”

“I repeat. Titanic is sinking with over twenty-two hundred passengers aboard. Position 41.44 degrees North and 50.24 degrees West. Estimated time of sinking is two hours, maybe two and a half. Whoever has a ship and crew, get out there immediately. I don’t care how you do it, just get out there and get out there NOW.”

With ponies outside scrambling to their ships, I jumped back on the wireless.

> Manehattan Harbor to Titanic. Sending every ship we’ve got. ETA under 3 hours.

A minute later was when my response came.

> Thank god. Get those ships working overtime. We’ll hold out as long as possible.

> What weather do you have?

> Clear and Calm

It was at this time that my boss and a few of my coworkers came in.

“What the heck happened?” my boss asked.

“They hit an iceberg,” I said, turning around. “They said that their forward five compartments are breached.”

“What ship even is this? No ship has ever been able to carry even a quarter of the passengers they’re carrying!”

“I don’t know!”

Hearing the wireless start beeping again, I turned to it and began writing the words on paper.

> We are putting passengers off in small boats. Women and children in boats.

I began typing back.

> Understood. Make sure they are well lit for the rescue ships to see them.

Suddenly, the radio began beeping once again.

> 1.24 a.m. G.M.T. 40.52 N. 61.18 W. Are you steering southerly to meet us?

> We are putting the women off in the boats.

“Wait, what?”

I began messaging back.

> Manehattan to Titanic. Didn’t you say you were at 41.44 N 50.24 W?

> Yes. We are. That was Olympic telling us her position.

> Olympic?

> RMS Olympic at your service, Manhattan. We have lit up all possible boilers and making all speed towards Titanic.

“What the heck are all of these ships with wireless radios doing out there?!” I angrily yelled.

> Manehattan to Olympic. How far are you from Titanic?

> 400 miles.

“Mother of Luna!” one worker exclaimed.

> Understood.

> How’s the weather at Titanic?

> Clear and calm, she says.

I put my head into my hooves, overwhelmed at the presence of yet another ship with a wireless radio.

“By the saints am I gonna need a drink after this…”

> RSS Lunar Notte to Manehattan Harbor. 27 miles out from Titanic.

"Oh shoot they sent that out there as well?”

> Understood, Lunar Notte. You’d better be setting some speed records out there.

> We just might be. Ask Titanic if there is any way for them to slow their flooding. We have Unicorns aboard that can hold her in place to exact repairs.

> You’ll need a lot of Unicorns to hold whatever ship is capable of carrying 2200 passengers.

I gave my wings and forehooves a stretch before addressing Titanic.

> Manehattan to Titanic. Any ideas for slowing your sinking?

Minutes went by as we waited with bated breaths.

“Wait, ask them which heading they’re sinking from,” my boss suggested.

> What heading are you sinking from?

Soon enough, we got a reply.

> We are sinking from the bow. Our engine room is filling up to the boilers. We don’t have ideas, so if you have any, tell us immediately.

I took in a breath. “Alright. There you go,” I said. “Sinking from the bow. Do you have an idea?”

“What if they tried reversing in a circle? If the propellers are at the back, maybe that would bring the bow out of the water a bit.”

“That might work.”

> Manehattan to Titanic. Do you want to try going full astern in a circular motion? Perhaps that would bring the bow out of the water and slow the amount of water coming in?

“What is the meaning of this?” a new, authoritative voice asked. When each of us turned to the doorway.

Our hearts imploded when we realized the tall, midnight blue mare was Princess Luna herself.

“P-Princess!” my boss stammered. “W-What are you doing here?”

“One must have an extraneously good reason to send the very ship built for me without my notice,” The princess sternly replied as she stepped towards us.

“With all due respect, we-”

“SHUT IT!” I snapped as the wireless began clicking again.

> You are a bloody genius, old man. Will proceed full astern to portside.

> Understood. Let’s pray to Celestia this holds you out long enough.

> Don’t know who Celestia is, but I’ll be sure to pray to her. We all will.

I turned to Princess Luna, who had gone from stern to concerned.

“What was that?” she asked.

“A ship named Titanic is sinking about thirty seven miles out from us. We’ve sent every available ship out, but it’ll be a couple of hours before they get there. Right now I’m doing everything I can to slow the sinking. So yes, we did send your ship out. It’s one of the fastest, so it has the best chance of arriving before Titanic founders.”

“How many passengers are on board?”

“Over twenty-two hundred.”

Her eyes widened at the number. After taking in a deep breath, she sat down next to the radio and grabbed a pencil and papers.

“I will receive messages, you will send them.”

“You know morse code?” I asked.

“Yes.”

With a nod, I began sending a message.

> Manehattan to Titanic. Our ships should be thirty miles out now. How are you holding up?

We began waiting patiently for a reply. The exterior alarms having gone off long ago, there was little sound besides our own breathing and the distant crashing waves.

For minutes, it was very quiet.

Almost… too quiet.

The usual two minutes turned to four. The four turned to eight.

As time went on, a ticking clock became louder and louder, the usually quiet sound having little competition to make itself known.

As eight minutes turned to sixteen, I messaged again.

> How are you holding up, Titanic? Manehattan.

Again, too many minutes began passing. Before more could pass, I took a breath, and tried messaging the Olympic.

> Manehattan to Olympic. Can you hear anything from Titanic?

We got a response within three minutes.

> Negative. Her radio power may be reduced. Her boilers can’t supply full power to the engines without sacrificing elsewhere.

> Understood.

I groaned, rubbing my forehead. “Bollocks… Now I’m wondering if It’s better to have communication or longevity.”

“Longevity,” Luna said. “We know where Titanic is. Knowing her rate of sinking would be helpful, but longevity is far more important.”

“I suppose…”

> Carpathia to Manehattan. Do you read?

I frantically replied to the newcomer.

> I do. What is it?

> We heard you had ships thirty miles out. We're not far as well. What should we be looking for?

> The main group are various sailing ships. The one you’ll meet first is the RSS Lunar Notte. A 5 mast barque of 400 feet.

> Understood. Will contact Lunar Notte for coordination.

With that sorted, I tried contacting Titanic again.

> Manehattan to Titanic. Can you hear?

There was a very faint call, but not even Princess Luna could understand it.

> RSS Lunar Notte to Manehattan. Titanic’s power is running out. Her forward deck is going under, as are the forward boilers.

Everypony in the room began to panic, none more so than me. Luna remained calm.

> For the love of Celestia, you had better be setting a speed record that won’t be broken for years.

> WE ARE

I looked up at the time. It had been two hours since Titanic had first contacted us. Now it had been close to half an hour since her last message had gotten through to us.

Looking at the wireless, I sent another message to Lunar Notte.

> Manehattan to Lunar Notte. Forward any message you get from Titanic to us ASAP.

> Will do.

> Cape Race to Manhattan. What is Titanic’s status?

I paused for a few seconds, registering the new ship.

> Manehattan to Cape Race. Her boilers are going under. She doesn’t have long left and her communicating power has been reduced.

> What is her position? Should we try sailing to her ourselves?

> Position 41.44 N 50.24 W.

> We can make it there in an hour.

> Don’t waste your time. We have over a dozen ships within half an hour of her.

We never got a reply.

More minutes began passing as we listened to the wireless. Lunar Notte and Carpathia were communicating with each other, relaying their speed and coordinates. They kept their transmissions scarce just in case Titanic sent out another message.

Suddenly, one final radio transmission came through.

> CQD CQD SOS SOS Titanic. Losing power to radio. Sinking Fast. Wheelhouse gone under. Thousands aboard. Final transmission. Come and get us, old m~-a~-~

I will never forget the look on Princess Luna’s face when she finished translating that message.

“CONSARN IT!” the princess screamed as she unfurled her wings. She jumped out of her seat and took off, smashing through the window.

Comments

[Cheddling]

I have been waiting for a story like this, Keep up the good work!