An Admiral's Plea

by Darth Plague

First published

A Changeling admiral at his wits' end. A Hippogriff reporter from Aris. A fun little interview. Equestria at war alt. universe.

Some hair-brained scheme by VOPS has seen a group of foreign reporters being invited to Vesalipolis for interviews with the Changelingian general staff, in an attempt to mend some of the PR fallout from the Olenian War. Coral Ridge, a journalist from Aris, has been paired off with Grand Admiral Lysander of the Kriegsmarine for an interview. This can only go well.

A fun little non-serious story, written with the help of the amazing Eltirion! Please go check him out for more stories set in the Equestria at War alt. universe, or just MLP in general.

The Interview

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Vesalipolis was bitterly cold. In addition, it was damp and dark.

Coral Ridge was not a fan.

Bundled up in a warm coat that did not nearly enough to keep the cold out - in his professional opinion, anyway - he was, for once, glad for his coat of feathers that his Hippogriff form provided him. If it was this cold on land, the water was surely freezing - though he had no intention of checking his theory.

‘’This way, please,’’ a Changeling soldier droned - ha! - in a bored voice. ‘’Admiral Lysander is waiting on you.’’

‘’I’d hate to keep him waiting,’’ Coral quipped with a small smile. The Changeling didn’t respond. Typical.

They were making it really hard for him to write a positive article about them. For a race of shapeshifters, they weren’t doing a good job of pretending he and the other journalists they’d invited were actually in any way wanted or welcome here.

Nevertheless, he followed the drone through the maze of hallways and tunnels. He had been picked up from his hotel by them - Coral could not for the life of him differentiate male and female Changelings - and had been led through a network of passages that were both above and underground until they’d arrived at their destination. If Coral had to guess, it was probably a building associated with the military. The office of the Admiralty, perhaps?

It mattered little. He’d follow the drone, he’d hold his interview and then he’d be out of this Tiamat-cursed frozen den of a city.

‘’Here you are.’’ The drone pointed at a door. ‘’The admiral is in there.’’

‘’Thank you.’’

The drone had already turned around and left.

‘’Bastard,’’ Coral muttered under his breath, before opening the door.

It was an office. A small one, at that. No windows, just a single lamp hanging from the ceiling. A bare office too; it only had a single desk with two chairs and two cupboards. This was honestly more of a converted closet than a proper office.

Coral shook himself, and smiled at the uniformed Changeling sitting behind the desk. ‘’Good morning, sir,’’ he greeted. ‘’My name is Coral Ridge. I believe we have an interview scheduled?’’

The drone himself seemed a lot like the one that had brought him here: a dark-grey impassive face that was adorned by a pair of lavender eyes with slit-like pupils that seemed to pierce those of the seapony. His uniform, however, was far more crisper and unblemished, as if ironed that very day. On it, a golden badge was pinned that contained the Changeling ensign, which was flanked by a trio of golden stars, which Coral assumed meant he was a high-ranking officer alright. On his head, the drone's horn passed through a hole present in the Admiral's cap that was also adorned with the Changeling Lands' ensign.

If he heard Coral introducing himself, he did not acknowledge it. Instead, with a slightly confused look, he asked, "Are you the seapony I am supposed to talk to?"

‘’Hippogriff at the moment, but yes. You are Admiral Lysander then, I assume? A pleasure to meet you.’’

The drone looked slightly relaxed now, but he still had an air of weariness to him; almost as if he didn't want to be there.

"Ja. I am Generaladmiral Lysander. Pleased to make your acquaintance," he replied with a forced sigh.

‘’Indeed.’’ Coral slipped into the other seat. ‘’Let us get right into it, shall we? A few personal details first, if you don’t mind. How old are you and where are you from?’’

“57 years old. I hail from the town of Riesa, on the outskirts of the major city of Ditrysium,” came the short reply.

‘’Noted, thank you. Dytrisium is the most important port in the Changeling Lands; is that where you got the desire to join the navy from?’’

The admiral, while looking slightly forlorn earlier, seemed to perk up a bit.

“Well, I suppose…that is true. The lands of the Changeling provide many heroes and legends of our own to look upon and aspire to be. Every city and hive has its own sagas to tell and their own ways to further the pride of our race. Being from Ditrysium…yes there were many legends of aquatic nature. Trying my luck at the game, I found in myself a capable ling to further the goals of Her Highness in the domain of water,” the admiral gave Coral a knowing look upon uttering the word water.

‘’Of course, of course. It’s much the same in Aris; every hamlet has tales of what heroes once came from it. How many of them are true is another matter of course.’’ Coral chuckled softly, then leaned forward. ‘’So. The war with Olenia. Did you - or the navy - see much action? The Olenians have a long naval tradition, of course. Or had.’’

Lysander’s face darkened a wee bit but, given his military background, he was able to compose himself so he could answer the question posed to him.

“Well, yes. At the start of the war, it was imperative that we knocked the Olenian navy, meagre that it was to begin with, out of the water. Not only would it cripple the supply of the more important coastal cities from the sea and allow for possible naval landings, which were fortunately not required, it would also be a great opportunity for the sea-lings to get their hooves dirty in a real battle.”

Then, with a lowered voice, he continued, “Of course…as an admiral of only one half of the fleet, namely the Surface Fleet, it soon turned into a…messy ordeal, to say the least.”

‘’How come? Surely the Kriegsmarine would be able to beat the Olenian navy? I’m no military fish, but I know that the Changeling Lands have one of the most advanced and powerful militaries on the planet,’’ Coral said. ‘’They could have not have been so great an issue for you.’’

Lysander said nothing for a while, his hooves slowly clenching in rising tension and his eyes growing more unfocused. It felt like he was holding himself back; whether it was from spilling sensitive information or some sort of anger within him, Coral could not say.

Eventually, the old ling sighed loudly, as if making his mind up. His eyes once more faced Coral with a fierce glare, as he spoke with a hushed tone, “I know this is an interview, but whatever I say right now, I need it to remain in this room.”

Coral raised an eyebrow. ‘’You have my discretion, of course.”

The changeling gazed at him for a few seconds more, as if trying to sniff out if he was lying. Once he felt satisfied, he began to reveal.

“In our admiralty, there are currently two schools of thought. It was first prompted by the invention of the U-boat by our naval research agency, and has since slowly but surely taken over the minds of other high-ranking officers. There are changelings, mostly on the more experienced side, that still abide by the age-old traditional doctrine of using a powerful surface fleet to dominate the waters. While, on the other side, there are those who favour a highly-mobile fleet made up of submarines, divided into several hunting packs that aim to gain naval supremacy through raiding tactics.”

“During the Olenian War, it was widely believed that the submarine fleet, led by my colleague Admiral Mimic, was the most effective task force during the war. But…”

Lysander suddenly stopped, his muzzle contorting furiously as teeth could be heard being grinded against each other behind his closed muzzle. Eventually, he spat out.

“But it was US! WE annihilated the Olenian navy, after the Battle of Hjortland. We sunk their battleships, the few they had, and almost all of their cruisers and destroyers. Yet, it was those rat bastards and their “new-age” fleet that took home the glory! I will never forget Mimic’s despicable face, when she relayed to the Admiralty how SHE, and her strike force, bested the Olenian forces with minimal casualties. And she had the numbers to claim, why? Because she was never anywhere near Hjortland! While my boys were out there dying for the Queen, she was out there trying to scheme us out of MY hard-earned victory! MINE!”

Lysander stopped, his slit-like eyes noticing the Hippogriff just sitting silently in his seat, unmoving and with widened eyes.

‘’I see,’’ Coral said after a moment, and scribbled something down in his notebook. ‘’Thank you.’’

The admiral coughed and looked apologetic all of a sudden, his eyes now carried a surprisingly saddened look.

“I am sorry about that. I tried to appeal against Mimic, but the admiralty wouldn’t hear of it. It seems like they were just looking for an excuse to begin slowly reorganising our naval forces and doctrine around the one endorsed by Mimic and her associates. Needless to say, they do not ‘believe’ me and have forbidden anyone from claiming that Mimic’s fleet did nothing, so they can draft a report to Her Majesty for the immediate reorganisation process.”

He sighed once more, “Now you can see why I was hesitant to share this with you. I hope you haven’t gotten a bad impression of me.”

‘’Certainly not! I can see that you are passionate about your work.’’ He paused. ‘’Of course, I cannot include this in the interview, but I think I can edit it enough that it’ll work, if you don’t mind that. Some creative writing is always fun, no?’’ He idly tapped one of his claws against the table.

“Thank you, that will work, yes. I suppose.”

‘’Great! Thank you for your time!’’

Coral rose from his chair and made to turn for the door, only to pause at the last moment. He looked back at Lysander. ‘’The Admiralty in Aris is always looking for new officers,’’ he said. Then he turned to the door and left the room, leaving a contemplative Lysander behind.