"Keep our heading steady, Hood. We're on track to intercept in a quarter hour."

"Heading steady, Captain Kerr."

Hood leaned on her forearms against the railing of her ship's bow. The position was unbecoming of a lady such as herself, but months of parade sailing and polite waving had taken a toll. She was a lady— Hood herself would tell anyone who would lend half an ear to listen— but she was built a warship, and she was growing restless. Having barely missed the Great War, this new war with the Iron Blood would be her first real taste of battle. She had been deployed several times in her tours of duty, and she had technically engaged enemies, but she had never had the kind of battle that Renown had told her so much about. She could almost see it now. Engaging the Bismarck, firing her 381mm guns in full broadsides, laughing as she and the enemy danced in each other's fire. Reveling in the heat and smoke that her main batteries shot forth; the wrath of king and country in an eight gun salvo.

"Hood?"

She shook her head, knocked out of her reverie and back into the waking world. "Yes, Captain Kerr?"

"Prinz Eugen and Bismarck have been spotted on the horizon. Attend your duties. We will engage after dawn at 5:50. May God save the King."

"God save the King." Hood responded mindlessly. Her mind was somewhere else. A heat deep in her stomach bubbled forward. All she could think about was how glorious this battle would be and how her days of boredom were at an end. The intercom in the conning tower above her rasped on, and bells echoed over the ship.

"Attention, all hands, general quarters."

She could not just see the men bustle around her, securing the decks. She could feel them. Feel their boots clicking against her varnished wood decking. The grinding of gears as her turrets began to turn. The slamming of munitions boxes as her crew began to ready her secondary armaments. The faint smell of diesel as oil was refined and burned in her four steam engines. Her toes curled and her grip tightened on the guard rails. The heightened sense of self just before battle. To Hood, a ship built for war, it was divine.

Without a care in the world, Hood began to smile. She could see Eugen and Bismarck enter view. They were about twenty kilometers away at most.

Nineteen kilometers and six-hundred meters. She mentally corrected as the men in the spotting top input the new data into her fire-control system. The information fed through her ship and directly into her head.

She pulled out the golden pocket watch from her coat— a personal gift from the family of Admiral Samuel Hood, her namesake— and glanced at the time.

5:42. Eight minutes until we engage. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Held it. Then opened her eyes as she exhaled the cold morning air in a cloud of vapor. The next parade I take part in… It will be my own. Not for the Empire that I represent, but for me.

"Today," she whispered, "will be spoken of for years to come. Today I forge my own name."

Hood bit her bottom lip. Her excitement was reaching a crashing crescendo as she felt her forward batteries begin to slowly track the lead ship, Bismarck. She felt the rush of water over her draught and draft as the rudder adjusted, keeping her bow facing Bismarck. It gave an angled broadside to Prinz Eugen, but the heavy cruiser was far less a threat than the capital ship. She busied herself by pulling out her pocket watch again.

5:49. One more minute. One more minute. One more minute.

She watched as the second hand ticked gently along the rim of the face. With each passing second the heat in her stomach rose until it was a bright inferno. Nothing but the blood of Bismarck would quench it. Just before the second hand reached twelve, she looked up at the lead ship and smiled.

She felt it before she heard it.

The grinding of metal on metal as the gunners closed the battery doors. The shudder of the ship the instant the hammers slammed into the rear of the shells and enormous gouts of fire erupted from her guns. Every time her main guns fired it sent a shudder down the ship's keel and a shiver up her spine. The wave of fire and the report of the cannons roared over her head. A duet of sight and sound that gave credence to her name 'Mighty Hood.'

She watched as the shells flew through the air and struck the ocean surrounding Bismarck, launching huge columns of water into the air. She frowned at the negative effect, but waited patiently for her crew to load again. Sending a brief pulse through her ship she subtly helped her gunners load faster by rolling shells just a little closer here, a little closer there. Moving gunpowder within reach and closing open doors when the crew wasn't looking. The crew wasn't completely necessary, and the Royal Navy Admiralty knew it, but the public would be in uproar if they knew a ship were able to sail itself. Let alone that ship being a young woman. She liked her crew, too. She often enjoyed listing back and forth ever so gently with the waves at night to ease the men to sleep as she spoke with Captain Kerr in the bridge over warm cups of tea.

Another wave of information flowed into her head as the firing system was adjusted from the previous volley and her turrets moved with slow certainty before firing another four, three-hundred and eighty-one millimeter shells at the leading ship. The shells cut a deep arc through the sky before raising another four columns of seawater around Bismarck.

"Why are none of the shots landing?" Hood grit her teeth, her sense of excitement beginning to wither under her frustration, "and why won't they fire back."

She clenched the railings until her knuckles turned white. "Return fire, damn you! Fight!"

An instant later, her wish was granted. She watched as the black silhouettes lit up; their batteries fired in succession with ruthless IronBlood efficiency. They arced up and up and seemed to hang in the air before they crashed into the water all around her. Water pelted her from all sides as many of the shells landed short of the bow and the ship cut through the sea spray. She hid her pocket watch away protectively under her blouse while she wiped the water from her face. She was blinking away the last drops as, in her distracted state, her guns unexpectedly fired again. The blast rushed over her and knocked her off balance. She grasped onto the railing for support as she watched another volley of shells launch from the leading ship, shortly followed by the following ship.

The leading ship is firing faster than the following one. Bismarck shouldn't be able to fire faster than Prinz Eugen… Horror dawned over Hood's face. She felt the rudder of the ship turn to port again, keeping in line with the lead ship, and exposing more and more of her amidship to the trailing one.

Giving more and more broadside to the three-hundred and eighty-one millimeter guns of the Bismarck.

I need to tell Captain Kerr this instant.

She threw herself off the railing. Her soaking clothes clung to her, rubbing uncomfortable and cold against her skin. She stumbled as the ship performed evasive maneuvers to throw off the Ironblood targeting systems. The shells from the volley she witnessed slammed home into the water all around her once more, throwing ever more seawater skyward.

She slammed against the hull as the rudder was thrown hard to starboard and another wave of shells landed all around her. An instant later she fell to her knees. A shell from what she now knew was Prinz Eugen had struck her spotting deck, obliterating it. Flaming debris fell all around her as she put her hands over her head. Something wet hit her across the face and she was knocked to the floor. Looking back, she saw the arm of one of the spotters, the body it should have been attached to conspicuously missing. She wiped her gloved hand across her face and it came away slick with a runny mix of blood and seawater. Her hand shook and she desperately tried wiping her glove on her dress. When the blood refused to clean, she struggled to take the glove off before ripping it and throwing it across the deck. She clutched her still trembling hand tightly to her chest before pushing herself to her knees.

An inferno was engulfing the deck between her twin smoke-stacks. She saw crew mates attempting to put out the fire, and were doing a job worthy of the Royal Navy, but it meant nothing in the face of the IronBlood firing squad. She could only sit helpless, unable to move or control her ship, as she witnessed a three-hundred and eighty-one millimeter shell pierce deep into her stern.

She knew the shell pierced into her aft magazine.

She knew the doors were open from the quick loading.

She knew the magazine was detonating.

She knew there were tears rolling down her cheeks.

She knew it was her fault.

"I'm sorry."

"Are the preparations complete, Electra?"

"Of course, Captain Buss. Rum and hot coffee are being prepared in the galley, all available lifeboats are prepped on the cranes, the heaving wires are ready, and the scrambling nets on both sides of the ship are awaiting your command."

The Captain went back to his own coffee. The hot drink did well to calm him as Electra went full steam in all four engines to the coordinates that Captain Leach of Prince of Wales had given him. Unlike most captains in the Royal Navy, he thoroughly appreciated the lithe woman aboard. She kept his ship in pristine condition, could run the boilers as intuitively as he could breathe, and a ship that could tell him something felt off before it became a problem that required a dockyard was a Godsend. Anything that kept his men alive was more than welcome in his book, even if she was 'nothing more than a bloody mascot and a skirt to distract the men.'" He raised his mug to his lips to hide the small smile forming on his lips from the last comment he had heard from First Sea Lord sir Pound.

He lowered his mug and addressed Electra while continuing to take in the information on the map on the table in front of him. "How much longer until we're within a kilometer of the coordinates provided?"

"Another minute or so, Captain. Is there anything you wish of me?"

"Once we enter a kilometer radius I want you to slow our heading to ten knots. We may begin seeing sailors soon and I'd rather not miss any. Once we get within five hundred meters slow to a troll. We'll begin seeing men in earnest by then."

Electra presented a sharp salute. "Sir, Captain, sir. It shall be done with all due haste."

"As I have come to expect from you. Dismissed."

She nodded wordlessly and quietly left the cabin, her short heels clicking against the deck. Captain Buss set his cup on the table and stepped out onto the deck. Looking down the length of the ship he saw Electra walking down to the aft of the ship. Turning right, he ran his hand along the railing while he walked. Pulling his hand away, he smiled as his white glove had come away spotless. Turning his attention from his hand, he looked out over the water as the ship's engines began to grow quieter. The ocean in front of him was eerily calm. He nearly jumped as a thunk echoed along the side of the ship. Terrified he may have accidentally sailed over a sailor, he swung his head down along the length of the ship. A large piece of rosewood decking drifted past; the wood bobbing in and out of the water lazily. He turned to the men near him.

"Begin searching for survivors. We've hit the edge of the debris field. Ensign Adams, pass on the information down the ship."

"Sir, yes, sir!"

The ensign ran down the ship and caught any passing man by the sleeves, presumably to pass on his orders. Nodding absentmindedly, the Captain approached his men on the bow to assist in looking for survivors. The sound of the engines had almost completely halted and they were now at a safe trolling speed. The captain frowned.

"Something's not right." Still facing the water, he yelled up to the spotting deck. "Spotters, what do you see?"

"Nothing, sir. There's no bloody movement as far as we can see!"

"What do you mean there's no movement?"

"The water, sir. She's calm as my nan after her afternoon tea. No lifeboats, no waves, no men‒ nothing."

His frown deepened. "Look for any signs of movement. Pay attention to the debris field. Anyone still alive will be hanging onto something."

"Aye, aye, sir."

The small destroyer slowed further to a light glide. The rumble of the engines wound down and the ocean became unnervingly silent. None of the men spoke. The only sounds that broke the silence were the pitiful scrapings of floating detritus against the hull; deformed and twisted metal that was once a mighty battlecruiser. The ship cut through the flotsam and left swaths of smooth glass in its wake. The silence roared in Captain Buss' ears.

The soft tapping of heels alerted him to Electra approaching. He gave her a quick nod but kept his eyes on the water. For her part, Electra did not make a sound. She was content to not interrupt and dutifully help her captain. She looked at him and despite his hat hanging low over his face she could see his jaw clenched and his eyebrows downturned at a harsh angle.

"Where are all the men…" Electra heard the Captain mutter under his breath.

"Perhaps the IronBloods took them?"

The captain shook his head. "No. Suffolk has been following them on radar. They didn't so much as slow down after sinking Hood. They didn't have the time."

His fingers tapped on the railing before tightening his grip. "I want men on the lifeboats. Spread out and search for survivors."

The men nearest the captain wordlessly saluted and ran down to the lifeboats, grabbing others as they went. Electra watched with grim fascination as she saw the normally lackadaisical men gather and release the lifeboats with an efficiency that would make an IronBlood engineer blush. Not a minute after giving the order, four lifeboats were in the water and slowly spreading out from the ship through the debris field.

Turning her attention away from the lifeboats Electra addressed her captain. "Is there anything you need from me?"

"Just stay here on the bow with me. Keep your eyes on the water."

"As you say, sir. Shall I also-" She was cut off by the captain quickly raising his hand between them.

"Electra, cut the engines, now."

The engines ground to a halt from near idling. Without the little rumble of the turbines the only sounds that broke the silence was the water lapping against the hull.

"Oi… Oi…O'er here…"

Captain Buss and Electra rushed to the starboard side of the bow. There, a few hundred yards away, was a man barely clinging to a warped piece of decking and another draped over it.

"Electra, get those men, now." A quick look showed no one else on the bow, most of the men out on the lifeboats and the rest near the stern. "Electra, present rigging."

A brief flash surrounded Electra in soft, white light. Replacing it was a small accompaniment of canons, torpedo tubes, and a small superstructure behind the belt that was cinched firmly around her waist. With no further orders, Electra jumped down onto the water, her rigging allowing her to glide across the smooth ocean as gracefully as a skater moves across ice. She quickly closed in on the men and threw the man draped on the wood across her shoulder and the other she carried in a bridal style. Once in her arms, the man passed out against her chest. She sped back to the ship and leapt out and onto the bow. The moment her heels slammed back onto the deck she dismissed her rigging and set the man she was holding down and carefully removed the one on her shoulder. Once she had laid the second man down, she gasped.

"Captain, this is…"

"Hood."

Upon speaking her name, the woman in question began to stir. Quickly dropping to her knees, Electra bent down and pulled her up to her, an arm behind her back. "Hood. Hood, darling, are you there?"

"Captain Kerr…?"

"Not quite, darling. It's Electra. Royal Navy Destroyer. I was part of your strike group once."

"You were? Why can't I see you? I'm… I'm trying to open my eyes but they won't open. Why won't my eyes open?"

Electra pursed her lips. She couldn't tell the condition of Hood's right eye‒‒ there was too much blood covering it from a wound above it‒‒‒ but her left one was definitely no longer there. An angry, red gash was all that remained. "It's just dried blood in your eyes, darling. The doctor will get them washed out soon."

"I need to see the Captain, Electra. I need you to take me to Captain Kerr."

Hood tried to push herself away from Electra but cried out when she landed on what remained of her left arm.

"Why. Why couldn't I catch myself? Where's my hand?" Hood cried. The tears running out of her ruined eye socket and down her bloodied cheeks. "Electra, where's my hand!"

"It's just numb from the water, darling. Here, I'll massage it for you. Just keep calm and Captain Buss here will get Captain Kerr for you. Does that sound good?"

Captain Buss, who had been watching in silence until now, spoke up. "I'll, uh, get Captain Kerr now, Hood. Just sit tight with Electra here, and I'll be right back."

He rounded a corner and immediately stopped, leaning against the bulkhead. He ripped his hat off and ran his hand through his close-cropped hair. He slowly slid down until he was sitting against the wall, his head in his hands.

He sat for what felt like five hours, but was more like five minutes, when footsteps approached him. "Sir? Are you alright?"

Without lifting his head he asked, "Did you find anyone else?"

"We found another two men, sir. HMS Icarus and HMS Anthony are also approaching the search area."

"Good. Good. Radio to the Admiralty at Whitehall. Tell them that Hood was recovered, but she has been severely crippled. And get the doctor to the recovered men"

"Aye, sir."

Back to the silence of the ship, he could just hear the sounds of the water lapping against the hull of the ship, and the quiet sobbing of the two women through the wall.