Ughhhh, sorry about spamming your inboxes with all these update alerts and whatnot, I keep chopping and changing - but basically I deleted the original Ch 7, the half-chapter, and then reuploaded it with the full version; but looking at it today I can see that it's fucked up, some lines got run together and it's just a mess... I had some PMs about it, idk if everyone had the same problem with it, it was like some of the lines were on top of each other?!

SO I'm going to put it back the way it was. I don't like cutting the sinking in half but it's better than it being unreadable. o.O This is SO WEIRD, 1912 had loads of problems with it as well... I should really stop writing about sinking transatlantic liners...

Thank you to: Guest, Lamashtar Two, Xenia van Hausen, Teenage Mouse, Iggy Butt, another Guest, muSHIii and Tamitan!

Friday 7th May, 1915

I/II

"Are you sure I'm allowed to be up here?"

Arthur shrugged, shooting him a bored look.

"I have one of the highest ranks on this ship," he said blandly. "I'll bring you up to the bridge if I want."

"Well, sure," Alfred said, "but I don't want you to get into trouble..."

"I don't think it matters much at this point," Arthur reasoned. "We're almost to the Irish Coast."

This was true; it was within sight, in fact, a welcome view to Alfred, who hadn't had the nerve to watch New York fade into the distance. They were off the Old Head of Kinsale - near Queenstown, which Alfred hadn't seen since its being Titanic's very last port. They were still in the warzone, of course, these waters no longer a homeland's calm kiss goodbye, but Alfred did feel significantly better for seeing Ireland so close at hand.

A lower-ranked officer approached with a tray, on which perched two tinkling cups; tea for Arthur, coffee for Alfred. Arthur thanked the officer as they took their beverages, heading off Alfred's quip about perks with a meaningful glare.

"We're still monitoring the situation, Commodore," the officer said, taking Arthur's attention back.

Arthur nodded.

"Which side? I'll take a look."

"Off starboard, sir."

"Very well." Balancing his teacup one-handed, Arthur reached to unhook the binoculars from their stand. "Come on, Alfred. Let's go up on deck."

He was already away, brisk-paced, and Alfred didn't have much choice but to follow, carefully with his coffee as he made his way up the narrow staircase to the rounded front of the navigation bridge's vantage point. From here, one had a clear view of Lusitania right down to the very tip of her bow.

It was a beautiful day, bright and breezy with the sea a calm, jewelled blue; and a great many passengers stood at the rails on A Deck, pointing out Ireland's ever-growing closeness. Lusitania plunged forwards with her usual nimbleness, ploughing aside the waters as she raced for safety.

"Hold this, will you?" Arthur handed Alfred his saucer, teacup jingling atop it, and leaned forward over the rail, adusting the binoculars.

"What is it?" Alfred had a sinking feeling he already knew. "...Is it a submarine?"

"Yes." Arthur frowned. "U-20. The Admiralty has been monitoring it for days. I can't see it, though. I expect it's retreated. I shouldn't think it would fancy its chances against Lusitania, not at this speed."

"O-oh." Alfred took a nervous sip of his coffee, his relief at seeing Ireland fast unravelling at the knowledge that a U-boat was lurking around in these same waters. "...Well, if you're sure..."

"I'm sure that a U-boat should think twice about torpedoing us," Arthur said shortly, straightening; he slung the binoculars over his shoulder. "U-20 has been circling - if it gets in Lusitania's way whilst attempting to torperdo her, she'll cut it in two or crush it. I don't think it's a risk they'll take, frankly."

"And what if they don't get in Lusitania's way?" Alfred pressed. "What then?"

Arthur didn't answer, taking his teacup back and sipping at his tea.

"Arthur!" Alfred hissed.

"Will you please be calm?" Arthur sighed at him. "We're doing everything we can to keep Lusitania safe. This was always going to be a risk, getting through the warzone - you knew that from the start. But Lusitania is a neutral passenger ship carrying innocent travellers. You must realise that she has that in her favour."

"I'm sorry, I'm just..." Alfred sighed, gripping at his teacup. "...Just nervous, I can't help it."

"I know." Arthur looked at him. "And you've done so well, love. I know all this can't have been easy for you - but we're almost there. Be calm, be patient, and soon you'll have your feet on dry land again."

Alfred took a breath, nodding. Arthur gave him an encouraging smile.

Given that they were to be docking in Liverpool that evening, Arthur was back in his white Commodore's uniform, high black collar starched against his jawline and with the gold braiding looped at his shoulder banging against his chest in the breeze. Incidentally, Alfred understood why Arthur had brought him on duty with him this afternoon (not allowed since Alfred had been small enough for Arthur to sneak on under his coat); it was that he didn't want him fretting alone, driving himself into a panic, at being in the warzone. He didn't know if it was nice of him, as such, given that this excercise wasn't doing his nerves much good either, but he appreciated the gesture. All things aside, Arthur was gold-hearted; if not always gold-tongued.

They went down to A Deck, Arthur on the pretence of doing his rounds, although Alfred knew that the sight of land sighing closer to a ship was one of his delights and that he wanted to bask in it. They were on the starboard side, sandwiched between a young family and a man with a box brownie set up on deck, waiting for the moment when Ireland would come close enough for the sun to blaze gold over her green shores. Alfred folded his arms on the rail and rested his chin on them, the sunlight warm on the back of his neck; contented, he nudged against Arthur, who rubbed fondly at his hair.

"Got any recommendations for where we can eat tonight?" Alfred asked. "Somewhere quiet would be nice."

Arthur gave a snort.

"In Liverpool? You've a fat chance of that."

"Well... somewhere good, at least," Alfred relented. "Is that too much to ask?"

"No, I suppose I can..." Arthur trailed off, stiffening suddenly at Alfred's side.

"What?" Alfred opened one eye to look at him. "Arthur?"

Arthur snatched up his binoculars again; and, after a moment, he swore loudly, having little care for the child standing on the railings not three feet away.

"What?!" Alfred straightened, starting to panic. "What did you see?!"

But he already knew; and, seconds later, the voice of the lookout blared overhead, tinny with distortion from the megaphone:

"Torpedoes coming on the starboard side!"

"Get back!" Arthur seized Alfred by his arm and hauled him away from the rail just as the torpedo struck Lusitania's hull.

Her metal gave a shriek and there was a blast of water and debris, which sluiced upwards like a blade as she trembled violently. There were screams and shouts right throughout the ship, people being thrown from their feet, china crashing from its cabinets, glasses overturning, lifeboats bouncing on their davits.

Arthur lost his teacup, the delicate porcelain smashing on the deck as he stumbled into Alfred; they both ended up on the deck, Alfred landing heavily, painfully, on his elbow. The Lusitania rocked violently, leaning forwards before pitching back again; and then there was another explosion, far bigger than the first. It boomed out of Lusitania's side like harvest seeds from their pod, violent and ripe; a vast plume of black smoke came with it, belching up over her decks and ungulfing her entire midsection. The blast sent a shower of twisted metal and burst rivets out into the sea as Lusitania shuddered right through to her very core for several, dreadful long moments. Stunned, flung flat to the deck, Alfred rode it out with clenched eyes, feeling Arthur's weight on top of him.

At long last - it seemed - she stopped, falling still. Arthur wasted no time in scrambling up, hauling Alfred with him by the back of his collar.

"God damn it," he cursed, "I don't think they'd be so fucking stupid...!"

He threw his binoculars aside and seized Alfred by the wrist, dragging him behind him as he ran for the stairs to the navigation bridge; Alfred didn't protest, too shocked to even speak.

The navigation birdge was aflurry with officers, both Cunard and Royal Navy; Captain Turner was amongst them, handing out orders to his men. Still clutching Alfred, Arthur fought his way amongst them.

"Two torpedoes?" he asked breathlessly.

"It looks that way," the Second Officer replied. "I don't know how much time we have."

"Not long." Arthur shook his head in despair. "That second explosion must have taken out at least four bulkheads - the damage, I suspect, is far greater than Titanic's." His face was grim. "I don't think we have two and a half hours, gentlemen."

"Lifeboats, Commodore." Captain Turner was suddenly at Arthur's side. "Help to fill the davited ones the starboard side. I've sent some of the men on ahead to start with passengers already on A Deck. Herd people up from B Deck and lower if you can."

"Captain." Arthur saluted his affirmation and hurried from the navigation bridge, hustling Alfred with him.

Setting foot on A Deck again, however, and it was clear that Lusitania was leaning badly towards her damaged side, tilting the deck.

"Stay here," Arthur ordered, pushing Alfred aside, well out of the way of terrified passangers scrabbling by, barely able to keep an even footing. "Just a minute or so, alright? I'll be back in a moment."

He started away; but Alfred suddenly reached and grabbed him, holding on tight.

"Alfred, please!" Arthur impatiently attempted to wrestle himself free. "This is not the time to-"

"Is this really happening?" Alfred tightened his grip on Arthur. "I'm imagining this, right? I must be imagining it."

"Stay here," Arthur replied, quieter, more urgent. He touched Alfred's face quickly, patting his cheek. "Good lad, just-"

"Are we sinking?" Alfred asked. His breathing began to constrict tighter and tighter as he started to panic. "Is... is Lusitania fucking sinking?"

"It looks that way, I'm afraid." Arthur pulled himself free. "Wait here. I'll be back shortly to put you in a lifeboat."

He pushed into the panicked crowd, leaving Alfred backed against the stairwell of the navigation bridge. Alfred sank against the wall for a moment, silent, in utter shock - for although he had feared Lusitania's being torpedoed, in many ways he supposed he hadn't expected it to actually happen. It seemed too extrordinary, too unfortunate, far too much of a fluke, for the very next four-funnelled liner he set foot on to go the same way as the first.

He stood up on the bottom step to take a tentative look down the deck. Already he could see crowds of panicked people clustering around the davited lifeboats - and that the waterline on the ship's starboard side seemed alarmingly close to her forecastle.

No. This was happening. RMS Lusitania, just like Titanic before her, was sinking.

He fled after Arthur, pushed close to the wall by the ship's unnatural tilt, and fought his way through the surges of people coming the other way as he descended the staircase to B Deck. He couldn't stay up there a moment longer, not by himself, watching that scene unfold itself again before him, the sobbing families and the rising water-

He found Arthur with another officer on the First Class promenade deck; between them they had a pile of cork lifebelts - exactly like Titanic's - and were trying to foist them onto fleeing passengers, many of whom were simply in too much of rush to take one.

"Stay on this side of the ship!" Arthur called over the rabble of the fleeing First and Second Class. "Proceed to the lifeboats on A Deck! There are plenty of boats for everyone!"

The other officer was repeating much the same message when Alfred came between them; Arthur looked surprised to see him.

"I told you-" he began.

"I know," Alfred interrupted breathlessly, "but I can't... can't stay up there by myself. I want to help, anything, just-"

"Well, you can help by putting one of these on and setting a good example." Arthur thrust a lifebelt at him; he turned to the other officer as Alfred slipped the lifebelt on over his head. "I'm going to head down to the dining saloons on D Deck - I expect there's a lot of confusion down there."

The other officer nodded.

"Right, I'll handle things here, Commodore."

Arthur beckoned to Alfred, snatching up a lifebelt for himself by its ties.

"You come with me," he said, "where I can keep an eye on you."

By now it was getting hard to walk, gravity hindering their every step as Lusitania's list grew worse. Arthur grumbled to himself about it, tying his lifebelt around his waist as he and Alfred scrambled down the staircase towards the First Class dining saloon.

"Bloody shoddy design, that's what it is," he muttered. "I'll say this for Titanic - she was very stable until she tore in half."

Alfred said nothing to this, preferring not to be reminded of the fact that the world's largest ship had ripped into two pieces whilst sinking at a time like this; he was tight-lipped and terrified as they sprinted past stragglers to the dining saloon.

There was a bit of a crowd in here, people milling about in confusion looking for loved ones and possesions even as tables slid to one side and crockery tumbled from their place settings. It was rather dark, which didn't help matters, for the glass dome had been blacked out the night before and instead the saloon was lit with only the electric lamps, usually reserved for evening dining. These were flickering rather badly.

"We have been torpedoed by a German U-boat!" Arthur had no pretence about him at this point; he shouted it at the passengers, not caring to mince his words. "Lusitania is sinking. Please proceed to A Deck immediately to be put into lifeboats. Lifebelts are available on B Deck and A Deck."

There was some flurry at this, with some passengers making an immediate beeline for the exit; but others seemed more bewildered than ever.

Alfred looked hopelessly at them; it seemed ludicrous but the procedure aboard Titanic had seemed to work better. For the most part, passengers had gone up on deck - it had been clear that the only way off had been in the too-few lifeboats. This, conversely, was utter chaos.

"We haven't time for this," Arthur groaned. "With a list this bad, I don't think she's going last half an hour." He beckoned to Alfred. "Come on, let's get to Second and Third Class. This lot'll get some sense through their heads when the water starts pouring in."

"I don't understand how you can be so callous," Alfred whispered miserably as they crossed the room.

"I think you forget just how many ships I've had sink from under me," Arthur retorted.

Alfred opened his mouth to reply; cut off as Lusitania gave an almighty groan. She heaved, rolling violently to one side, Alfred grabbing onto one of the plaster pillars to keep his balance, Arthur in turn hanging onto him.

Alfred looked up, his chest thundering in terror, as the lights flashed once, twice, and then failed completely, plunging the entire heart of the Lusitania in utter darkness.


If all this seems like it's happening very quickly... that's because it did happen very quickly. The Lusitania sank in just eighteen minutes; the torpedo was fired at 14:10pm and her electrics failed just four minutes later at 14:14pm. She also listed very badly to her damaged side, up to fifteen degrees, making her flood quicker. Comparatively, Titanic's newer design meant that she had very little list (only nine degrees) despite being damaged on only one side; her electrics also kept working until the last twenty minutes. It's amazing the difference the few years between Lusitania and Titanic made: it sounds ironic, in fact, to say it given the notoriety of the disaster, but Titanic was actually a very safe ship design-wise. Had she had enough lifeboats... who knows! Perhaps nobody would even know her name.

RIGHT. ON TO PART II. FINGERS CROSSED. O.o