Operation Trebuchet IV: The Hood
40 Years after the Great War
Londinium
As many of our viewers may know, at the time of the bombardment of Turus, another important and well-known battle was about to be joined closer to home.
The Battle of Jyutland, at least up until this point in the war, was the largest modern naval combat the world had ever seen. With the Home Fleet of the Allied Kingdom, commanded by Admiral Jellicoe, and the Imperial High Sea's Fleet under Admiral von Leichtenberg facing off in the North Sea, or the Deutsches Meer as the Empire called it at the time.
Although the Allied Kingdom and its Commonwealth had been successfully maintaining a naval blockade to starve the Empire of many of its supplies. The Albish High Command had been hoping for such an engagement in order to end the potential threat of the Imperial Fleet. They hoped a victory would hand them uncontested control of the seas and help pave the way for future strikes on the ever-expanding Empire that would eventually lead to the liberation of the occupied countries.
The battle of Jyutland caused the tragic loss of many sailors, marine mages and ships on both sides. The fierce fighting making it an incredibly costly endeavour for everyone involved. The most well-known and shocking casualty for we in the Allied Kingdom was the HMS Hood and much of her crew, a ship that until that point had been thought to be one of the most powerful battleships in the world.
However, one of WTN's own reporters has found startling evidence that contrary to the official Albish reports of the time, the Hood was in fact sunk at Turus! Or at least suffered the damage that would lead to its demise there, explaining why search teams have never been able to find the illustrious vessel.
Although both the Albish and Republican records pertaining to the action are still largely restricted by both governments and much of the information from within the Empire paints an incomplete and confused picture. Our WTN reporter has found three eyewitnesses including an ex-crewman of the doomed vessel that tells a very different story. All these survivors have volunteered to testify that the Hood was sunk by non-other than the Devil of the Rhine, or the Eleventh Goddess to some, during the bombardment of Turus.
This exciting revelation may change everything we know about the war so far and we at WTN are excited to bring you more new findings as we unearthed them.
– Original script for Special Program on Turus.
WTN WORLD TELEVISION NEWS
GREYS INN ROAD
LONDINIUM
Andrew, I refuse to let you broadcast this utter hogwash! Although we at WTN strive to make sure our programming is entertaining, we pride ourselves on providing factual and informative programming, not fanciful works of fiction!
On top of that stories like this are insulting and completely disrespectful to the brave men that fought in the Great War. As someone who reported from the eastern front and was so sorrowful about all the casualties the Red's took, I find it horrific that you could treat the memory of your own countrymen so poorly. I expected better from you!
I looked over the research you did for this episode, and I frankly find your entire theory absurd. Your original basis was that one of the censored reports on the Eleventh Goddess mentioned the Hood, yet there is nothing in any of the other pieces of declassified data to suggest she was involved at all. Considering the lack of available evidence, I think it's fair to say that the mention of your Goddess in relation to the Hood was a clerical error.
As for your so-called eyewitnesses, I checked with them and all three have since retracted their statements. Apparently, during their original interview, they were visited by an attractive young woman and they felt the need to embellish their stories to impress her. Since then, their colleagues have persuaded them that telling such lies was disrespectful, advice you should heed yourself!
You sent her, didn't you?
I've warned you time and time again that women are not fit for real journalism, particularly her. I know that you have a soft spot for Maggie but this should make it clear that the girl doesn't care about facts, only silly and divisive fantasies so can play pretend at being a real writer! Her attitude is damaging your credibility, Andrew! Don't let a pretty face stain what has been a fantastic career.
I've given you an awful lot of leeway with this project due to its continued popularity but enough is enough. I want her off the team and I want you to rewrite this nonsense so that our viewers don't lose all respect for the network. I will be keeping a closer eye on you from now on
I expect a new version on my desk by Monday.
Ian Jacob
Director of Programming WTN
September 25th Unified Year 1925
La Pomone torpedo boat, Eastern Docks, Port of Turus 16:30
Damnit! Why do things always have to be difficult? Tanya complained inwardly as she watched the burning western docks from her hidden position in the back of an abandoned torpedo vessel.
Up until now, she'd been rather pleased with the progress she and Visha had been making while disarming the explosives. Although there had been some danger of discovery, she had quite enjoyed the idea of pulling the rug from underneath the enemy without their knowledge. What better way to embarrass your enemy?
Their stealth approach had meant that not only could she complete her assignment of securing the safety of the dockyards without too much risk of running into gunfire, but she could do so without the enemy realising. Maximum gain with little risk; it had been an ideal situation for a soldier. She just wished she could have seen the look on the Republican's faces as they pressed the detonator to see nothing happen.
However, the Allied Kingdom had decided to be problematic.
All that effort, gone to waste! Why bother planting explosives in the first place if you planned on tearing it down the old-fashioned way? She grumbled to herself, already knowing the real cause of this disaster. Damnit, Wilhelm! You went too far again, you handed them the perfect excuse to start an attack.
The little captain had once again gone overboard while directing De Juin's performance, although she doubted the boy had realised it, and now they were being punished for it. The General's broadcast had been written more like a national address than a simple speech to discourage defection. The original declaration of war from the Legadonian Entente Alliance hadn't even been as dramatic as the words Wilhelm had stuffed into the General's mouth.
You always want to put on a show, make things grand! Why can you never keep things simple? She thought continuing to direct her frustration at the little captain.
It was hardly surprising the Allied Kingdom had interpreted the broadcast as an official declaration of war from the officially neutral forces. If their positions were reversed, she might have done the same, or at least advised her superior to see it that way. Then again, perhaps that was their plan all along, it was all the justification the Albion fleet needed for an assault. Maybe, they were expecting something like this, maybe it was Wilhelm who had been outplayed here.
The Allied Kingdom were hardly amateurs at influencing events to fit their needs. They'd spent years bullying nations that threatened their colonial interests and forcing them into unfavourable conflicts with their navy to expand their interests. They'd managed to win several conflicts against Qing China over the years in such a manner and they'd always managed to manufacture a legal justification for their actions.
Why wouldn't do the same here?
She should have seen it coming, they'd obviously been waiting for such an opportunity ever since they had arrived here. The presence of De Lugo's troops and the explosives were probably just a ruse designed to cause De Juin to deliver some sort of official reply. However, in this case, Wilhelm had forced De Juin himself to address the problem in his special kind of way. Since De Juin's forces had no official diplomats to deliver an official response, the Allied Kingdom could claim that the man's words were the war declaration they needed and dress it as an unavoidable mistake if international opinion went against them.
She doubted that would happen, however. Since its colonies occupied much of the globe, the Allied Kingdom could get news of this "war declaration" out far quicker than the Empire or the Francois could. Additionally, their Albish speaking brethren in the Unified States would likely only hear the record of events from their news outlets, so any possible opposition to the assault would be quickly forgotten.
It was the perfect crime! They had plausible deniability in the eyes of the international law and since they were supplying the Free Francois there would be no official complaint from them until the conflict was over. Chances were that De Lugo's insane fanatics were complicit in the action anyway, why else would they sanction writing off so much of their remaining naval resources. She wondered what they had traded for them.
In the meantime, the Allies had achieved their aim of robbing the Empire of a functioning port and some extra ships leaving Tanya in danger of failing all her mission objectives. The docks were now a lost cause, it was only a matter of time until those ships finished destroying them and it was likely that if he'd survived, De Juin would no longer be a viable candidate as an official opposition to De Lugo leadership.
They'd been beaten.
She'd underestimated the tea drinkers' cunning. She should have expected nothing less from the nation who had drafted so many of the treaties which bound them to the rules of conflict. It was clear they'd left themselves loopholes like this in case they ever needed a way to get around their own rules. It was almost cheating to be able to write your own policy just so you could exploit it.
She had to admit, she was impressed; she'd gained a newfound respect for Albion today. However, that admiration did nothing to help her current situation or mood. Albion being adept was disastrous for both Tanya's potential survival and her future career prospects.
She glanced out at one of the burning Francois battleships, wondering for a moment if Wilhelm was alright. She was still technically responsible for his safety, and she felt a small pang of concern as she watched the burning ship. She'd tried to contact him and his group several times, but the barrage caused too much interference at this distance and they'd received no response.
That idiot would have been on board one of those ships, he enjoys being at the centre of things, he likes the attention too much. She thought feeling another uncharacteristic twinge of worry for the little brat.
She shook her head, forcing the unease from her mind with rational thought. There's no need to be concerned, the Zerbist sisters are with him, and both are highly skilled and loyal enough to him to see him out safely. He's probably safer than I am now.
She took a breath to refocus her thoughts. She could trust that Wilhelm would be safe for now at least, she should focus on more immediate problems. Namely, the Allied Fleet.
Initially, Allied Kingdom's bombardment had been confined to the western side of the port. They'd avoided targeting De Lugo's defectors while they did their best to evacuate what material and personnel out of port. Since the Francois had gone to so much trouble to booby trap the docks, Tanya had hoped the Allied fleet would leave them alone, assuming the explosives they had planted would decommission the second half of the dock without the need for bombardment.
However, the Albion fleet had evidentially decided to allow their gunnery crews the extra target practice. Whether due to mistrust of the abilities of their Free Francois allies, somehow discovering that the explosives had been disarmed, or simply a desire to ensure the destruction was complete Tanya couldn't say. However, the Allied fleet had gradually been moving their guns further along the dockyards, systematically levelling everything in its path as it drew closer to her and Visha's hiding place.
It almost felt unfair. All the hard work that she and her subordinate had put in had been rendered moot. Tanya's hope that she could achieve her mission objectives, and thus impress both General von Romel and the general staff, with minimal risk had been ripped away. She now had nothing to show for her efforts and without results, the mission would be considered nothing but a wasted effort in the eyes of her commanders. She would have this failure stain her records from now on, it may even affect her future prospects.
Worse still, they might misconstrue her careful infiltration as an act of cowardice! What if they thought she was using the threat of explosives to avoid attacking the enemy? She could end up being court marshalled!
She felt a stab of panic. At the time her decision had made sense; the explosives and limited ammunition had made for the perfect excuse to avoid combat and sit out most of the battle hidden under the docks. However, now that the situation had changed, she might be accused of inaction and dereliction of duty. General von Romel had explicitly stated the importance of the docks to this campaign left standing orders that they should do everything that they could to take them intact. If she wasn't seen to do something in their defence she would surely be punished!
But what could she do against an entire fleet? She could probably manage to inconvenience a ship with her whole battalion but with only her and Visha the Albish sailors wouldn't even flinch! Then again, if she ordered a withdrawal without doing anything she might be branded a coward: especially since the fleet's marine mages had been called away.
She pinched the bridge of her nose and tried to force herself to calm down. Perhaps she was thinking about this the wrong way.
In this situation, the higher-ups knew she couldn't possibly provide definitive results. The Empire pushed for excellence, but it didn't ask the impossible. What they would demand however was that she show that she was willing to stand against the enemy. Proof she wasn't a coward. Maybe she simply needed to appear as though she'd made an attempt to act against the Albish fleet.
Yes of course! A quick sortie to unload what ammunition they had at a suitably important target and a hasty withdraw afterwards was all she could reasonably be expected to do in the circumstances.
Then again, the fleet did have fighter cover meaning they couldn't fly too high during their attack. She'd preferred to have taken potshots at extreme range, but she didn't like the idea of being chased by the speedier sea fighters. That meant keeping lower where they were more vulnerable to anti-air fire from the ships themselves.
That came with its own problems. The rulers of the waves were doubtless fully aware of the potential danger mages could cause to a vessel, so would likely have formidable defences. However, the Allied Fleet was still labouring under the misapprehension that all the Imperial mages were being tied up by their missing marine mages outside the city; they wouldn't be expecting them. Additionally, she and Visha had some experience with ship combat, if they were lucky, they could get the drop on them and get out before the tea drinkers could react.
She was confident they could do it, but what would be their best target?
She grabbed her binoculars and studied the fleet as it launched another volley that landed worryingly close to their position. The vibrations reminding her that their refuge would not be safer for much longer.
Tanya was not an expert on naval warfare by any stretch of the imagination, and the Salaryman had been more interested in the theatres of land and air combat. However, she was dimly aware of the different classes of warships, if only from her limited experience with the Imperial Navy, and she studied the horizon for potential targets.
Several destroyers and cruisers were gliding around the larger vessels, travelling in what she assumed was some sort of screening pattern. One of these would likely be the easiest to strike at as they could hit one as it passed closest to their position before the enemy had time to react, however, she quickly dismissed the idea. There were strategically more important targets present and she worried the brass would no doubt ask questions about her choice.
Of the remaining ships, or at least the ones close enough that they wouldn't have to fly over half the fleet, which left the distant aircraft carrier and some variant of battleship that sat low in the water. She briefly considered assaulting the carrier but again quickly dismissed it, although they could likely do some damage to the flight deck it was too far away, and they would likely draw the anti-air of both the fleet and any planes still in the air if they tried it. That left the battleship.
Tanya felt a twinge of anxiety in her stomach, she hadn't counted on attacking the largest vessel out there. Still, there wasn't much choice, if they were lucky they could set it aflame before anyone saw them coming and get out before they unleashed every defensive gun on there at them. If not, maybe she could claim that the anti-air fire had been too much, and they had been forced to withdraw. Either way, they could regroup with the General without fear of being accused of shirking their duties.
"Lieutenant Serabryakov." She called reluctantly grabbing her weapon and getting to her feet, "It's time we put our training with the high seas fleet to the test."
September 25th Unified Year 1925
Meeting Room A, Admiralty House, Londinium, 16:45
Major General Sir Donald Habergram was no stranger to briefings held in the great halls of power. As the head of Commonwealth intelligence, he had often joined other members of the defence staff for briefings in Whitehall or Downing Street. He'd even had the honour of visiting the Palace to brief the royal family when the need arose, however, it was rare he was ever summoned to meetings within the hallowed halls of the Admiralty.
The Navy had long learned to rely on the information Habergram's department provided and they kept a direct line to the intelligence agency's operation rooms open at all times. As such, face to face conferences with the senior Admirals were rarely required, at least within their primary headquarters. Even when such a need did arise, Habergram preferred to hold them in his own office or the various meeting rooms of the other defence branches; scheduling them so that all the appropriate civilian and military authorities could receive the briefing simultaneously.
He hadn't stood in Admiralty house since the submarine incident the previous year but little had changed. The building was finely decorated, reflecting the high regard the nation felt for its navy and its palatial like exterior was a testament to its perceived importance. It was a temple dedicated to Albion's first line of defence, a symbol of their kingdom's mastery over the waves.
Habergram had always felt like an intruder here, a feeling amplified since his previous failure in this place. It still stung that Imperial mages had managed to interfere with their plan to smuggle councillor Abensoll out of Legadonia to form a government in exile. They still did not know how those Imperial's had found the location of the submarine, they still had no clue as to where there might be a leak. Simply standing in the building where he'd overseen the operation was a painful reminder of the failings of him and his department.
He glanced around the large conference table at the other guests. He could at least take solace that he was not the only intruder in the sacred halls of Albion's senior service.
Also present, aside from the expected naval officers conversing quietly at the far side of the table, were several senior members of both the RAF and the Army, including the Chief of the Commonwealth General Staff Sir Henry Willis. The chief looked annoyed and slightly bemused at his presence here, he too didn't often attend naval briefings. However, he had doubtless become used to suffering the whims of the First Sealord's; particularly one with a reputation like Lord Marlborough. Unlike their Imperial counterparts, it was the Navy that dominated the Commonwealth defence strategy and Willis' army was often forced to take a back seat in defence matters.
The chief seemed to notice his stare and nodded a friendly greeting towards him as their eyes met and Habergram felt a slight twinge of unease. Although nominally his superior, he had been forced to hide much of Project Ultra's decryption progress from the army chief in recent months at the behest of the other defence chiefs and he didn't much like it.
However, he could see the reasoning behind the decision. The work they had been doing with Project Ultra was far too important to squander and they couldn't afford to overplay their hand. Willis had made the other chiefs nervous by repeatedly advising using the codes as much as possible, even if it revealed to the enemy that their cyphers had been broken. Such an action could be disastrous. If the Imperials changed their codes, it would hand their only advantage back to the enemy.
He knew couldn't afford that risk, but Habergram still felt slightly guilty at keeping information from the man. Willis was a friend and Habergram knew he was just as devoted to the preservation of the Allied Kingdom as any other man here. It hurt that he wasn't trusted.
He pushed the thought aside as a young woman in naval uniform asked him if he would like a cup of tea. He at her smiled and accepted gratefully as she passed him a cup and saucer. One thing could be said for this war, the temporary inclusion of women to take over some of the administrative and servile duties to free up more fighting men had made the workplace a little more pleasant. Although some had complained they now had to be more careful with their language.
He would miss having the women folk around after the war was over.
He took a sip of his beverage and continued to study the room. The inclusion of himself and the other branches in what should be a meeting reserved for the navy, although strange, wasn't the most unusual part of the gathering. That honour, at least under usual circumstances, was the absence of one man in particular: Prime Minister Samuel Baldwain.
"Thank you all for joining me here on such short notice Gentlemen." A charismatic voice called from the head of the table drawing the attention of the assembled dignitaries towards a haze of cigar smoke. Its owner was unmistakable to anyone who had any dealings with the navy or politics in recent months. It belongs to the first lord of the Admiralty himself, the Duke of Marlborough, Lord Spencer Churbull. This was his show Habergram realised, and he already tell Churbull was relishing taking centre stage.
"I know these are trying times and we're all very busy." He continued taking a generous drag from his cigar once more, "However, there are pressing matters here about how we might better conduct ourselves in this war."
His words caused a chorus of confused grumbles particularly from the army representatives who seemed to sense they had been left out of the loop. Habergram however remained silent, he already knew what was going to happen.
"If it so important, surely we should wait for the Prime Minister?" One of the RAF officers questioned, doubtlessly, like most here, already knowing the reason for his absence.
"Mr Baldwain is on his way to the palace to meet with Her Majesty." The first Sealord explained waving a hand dismissively, the unsaid meaning of the words clear to everyone in the room. The Prime Minister was going to resign, and it was already common knowledge that Churbull was going to be recommended as his replacement. "However, war waits for no man, and we must act quickly, the Imperial High Seas fleet is on the move."
The news caused a ripple of concern to wash over the room. They all knew that the Empire would try something eventually, and they'd all been quietly dreading it. True their fleet was larger than its Europan counterpart, but they were spread thin. Additionally, after the astounding victories the Empire had achieved in the Republic and on the Southern continent, many were worried that the Imperial Navy also had some trick up its sleeve. Nobody dared say it out loud, but most everyone privately wondered what they would do if the fleet were defeated. It would be the end for them.
Habergram didn't share the unease of the other members, however, and neither did Churbull as he stood quietly in a cloud of cigar smoke while he waited for the clamour to die down. The Allied Kingdom had an ace of its own, and if things were handled correctly the enemy wouldn't even know they were playing it.
"Has the home fleet been deployed? Do we have enough ships to counter them?" The army chief asked hurriedly, voice bristling with concern "By God Spencer, you sent some of our best ships south! Not to mention the fleet you insisted stay in the Pacific to keep the Akitsushimans in check. What if they try to invade? You know we don't have enough troops trained to defend the whole coast yet!"
"They cannot risk an invasion until they establish control of the air and sea." Churbull replied calmly, dismissing the General's concerns. "They have made little progress in the air and I assure you they will not gain our oceans."
"You can't be sure of that! We need to recall Admiral Winters and find that fleet as soon as possible!" Sir Henry replied angrily as his officers loyally echoed his concern. "I should have never allowed you to persuade the Prime Minister to spare those extra ships! It's just like your gamble in Qing or Africa but this time your little adventure might have doomed us all!"
The room fell silent as a strange atmosphere descended over the room. Sir Henry and the other army representatives glanced around and quickly realised that only they seemed worried about the news of the high seas fleet. Sir Henry's eyes narrowed, and he glared at the Sealord, but Churbull said nothing, simply smiling at the army chief through the haze of smoke.
"You knew, didn't you? You planned it this way!"
"It was of course vitally important that the port in Turus and the rogue Francois naval elements were neutralised." Churbull replied easily, ignoring the accusatory tones in the General's voice. "It was necessary to support our ally by denying the Empire the ability to shorten its supply line, not to mention stop them from capturing ships that could be used against us."
Churbull paused and took a moment to enjoy another puff of his cigar before breaking into a wide grin.
"However, it was also a convenient ruse to draw the enemy into the open sea. Can't sit around waiting for Fritz forever now, can we?"
"How can you be so sure of victory?" Sir Henry spat testily, "I read the estimates, now that you've sent so many ships south, their fleet is comparable to the home fleet. On top of that, we know the Kaiser's has spent millions modernising his navy, and we've barely been able to keep up. Must I remind you that Parliament refused to implement your own modernisation program last year? Your ships might not be a match for them."
"There's nothing wrong with our bloody ships!" Churbull replied, struggling to keep his temper at the implied slight against his navy. "Once more, we know exactly what the enemy is planning and their positions. That is why I'm so confident Henry."
"How can you possibly know all that?" Sir Henry asked turning to give an acidic look at Habergram who found himself struggling to stop himself shifting awkwardly under the man's gaze. It was clear that the army chief suspected he'd been hiding something from him. He would not be cowed by the man however, he'd never been afraid to face the truth.
"Project Ultra has successfully decrypted all of the Imperial naval codes along with most of the air fleet cyphers." Habergram reported, noting Churbull's triumphant grin out of the corner of his eye as the army chief's face contorted into a mixture of anger and confusion.
"We currently know the whereabouts of every ship, seaplane and U boat operating in the Albish channel and the North Sea. We have been relaying everything to the Admiralty so that they can effectively counter them."
"You're sure? Ultra's decoded so much?" Sir Harry asked with surprise before his face returned to a mix of suspicion and anger. "What of the Army codes?"
"Around sixty-five per cent of traffic has been decoded, at Lord Marlborough and the PM's request we've been focusing our efforts on the navy." Habergram replied feeling slightly guilty now that the secret was out.
"Sixty-five per cent! Why was I not informed? Surely something could have been used to aid our efforts in the south! We might have even been able to save old Ketchener with such information!"
"That's enough Harry!" Churbull interrupted seizing control of the conversation once again. "We've been over this countless times. We couldn't risk using anything from Ultra in the south, we have no way of hiding the source of our knowledge. The enemy would know we had their codes."
"Yet it's fine to when your navy is at risk instead of my soldiers?" The army chief spat venomously as both he and Churbull shared another glare.
"In this case, there doesn't need to be a risk to Ultra." A new voice cut in attempting to break the tension. It belonged to the Air Chief Marshal, the third player in the tug of war between the defence branches, Lord Trenchard. "I have put my forces at the disposal of Lord Marlborough for this operation, the Imperial's will naturally assume that they've been spotted by my planes rather than that we've broken their codes."
"What of the Empire's bombing campaign? Won't you need to pull resources away from that to cover this endeavour?" Sir Harry asked, slightly calmer but still stewing.
"Unfortunately so." Replied the air chief, "there may be some damage to some of our installations in the south but I believe it worth the risk."
"Installations my men are guarding. My men must suffer at the hands of Imperial bombers while you two roll the dice on our future, is that it?" Sir Harry replied sounding defeated.
"I know how you feel Harry but we can't hide behind our wall of ships forever." Churbull replied striking up a conciliatory tone. "The Imperials have proven they can strike where we least expect it, we need to do the same! Launch raids, harass them where we can, force them to spread themselves thin!"
"With what troops? I've squeezed everything I've got from the resources I've been given and I barely have the men to keep the home isles safe. We have the colonial troops but half of them haven't arrived yet and they resent being dragged into this war. You keep reminding me that we have men in training but these they are nowhere near ready, and on top of it all you've poached all the best mages for the marines." Sir Harry protested weakly and for the first time, Habergram noticed how tired the man looked. The man had been up night and day fortifying the isles for a potential invasion since the fall of the Republic, using every bit of labour and manpower he could find yet it still wasn't enough. The effort was clearly beginning to take its toll on his friend.
"Please, it's too risky Spencer."
"If it makes you feel better Admiral Winters has orders to return as quickly as possible, Albion's waters will never be undefended." Churbull reassured the defeated general "I appreciate all your hard work Harry; I know it's been difficult. I promise you'll get what you need for the army, this war won't be won at sea."
Sir Harry still looked unhappy, but it was clear he was mollified for now. Satisfied, Churbull turned to the rest of the officers with a look of fiery defiance on his face, nothing would turn him away from his chosen path now.
"It's time to take the initiative from the Empire. We do not fight for The Republic or Dacia; this is no war of Domination or material gain. This war is to save the world from the Empire's Hegemony, to prevent the freedom liberties fought for throughout the centuries from being surrendered due to the poor choices of our continental neighbours. We have always been at the forefront of the fight for liberty, and we will not cower when those rights are under threat. The balance of power in Europa will be restored!"
"Order Admiral Jellicoe to put to sea, it's time to show the Empire who rules the waves."
September 25th Unified Year 1925
Bay of Turus, 16:50
Tanya found herself laughing gleefully as she and Visha circled the Albion battleship; she couldn't believe her luck!
Rather than the imposing barrage of flak and layers 40mm and 20mm fire she had expected from the world's finest navy, she and Visha had experienced only a token attempt at defence from the floating behemoth. It was pathetic, they'd suffered much worse from the Imperial navy during their training exercises with the high seas fleet. Even then, they'd found the defences too weak to adequately resist a determined assault from mages. That the world's so-called finest navy was putting up such weak resistance was something she never could have dreamed of.
She grinned widely as she effortlessly avoided the machine gun fire directed towards her. It was so easy; she couldn't believe she'd been so worried about assaulting this ship. Without its complement of marine mages, there was nothing to worry about, the threat of the few AA guns they had on deck was minimal.
Better still, this particular hunk of iron already looked as though it were in danger of a premature rendezvous with the seafloor. It sat so low in the water, that even the relatively calm waves of the southern sea were threatening to spill over onto the deck. They'd be doing the crew a favour by sending it to the bottom, they'd probably be dryer in the lifeboats than that leaky piece of junk.
If she hadn't already been in the air, she might have found herself jumping for joy. She'd heard so much about the terrifying Albish Royal Navy that she'd built them up as a kind boogieman in her mind. As such, she'd assumed the Allied Kingdom would send their finest ships to take part in this operation, the elite of the elite. Part of her had been anticipating that she would struggle to even be able to get close to the fleet. She'd half expected she'd need the type 95 to even scratch the world's greatest navy.
That mistaken assumption had clouded her thoughts and caused her to misread the situation entirely. The Allied Kingdom were no fools; why would they bother to send their best for this mission? It would be a complete waste of their resources.
There was no real threat to their navy here, the Imperial fleet was bottled up in Fredrickshaven and the Ildoans were committed to remaining neutral. They had complete control over the waters, so the Allied Kingdom could afford to allocate their assets more efficiently. They'd obviously sent their old and outdated vessels for this job, ships that were likely due to be decommissioned and scrapped any day now. It was the only explanation for the poor state of this vessel's air defences, it was unthinkable that the Empire could be worried about ships like this.
She had to hand it to them, it was an efficient use of their resources. Even General Zettour and the service corps would approve of the careful management of their assets. After all, from the Allied Kingdom's perspective, this was a demolition, not a battle. Why send your elite units to perform the menial work? All they needed was to use the ships as mobile artillery platforms and lob as much munition at the port as they could. She wouldn't be surprised if the fleet was entirely crewed by inexperienced trainees on their first sortie, they certainly aimed their AA fire like someone without much experience.
"If only Weiss and the others were here, we could probably take out half of the fleet!" She laughed out loud feeling pleased with the turn of events for once.
She wondered how Weiss and the battalion were doing, were the marine mages they faced also inexperienced troops? She couldn't imagine the Allied Kingdom would send anything better to guard these pieces of scrap. She'd have to reprimand Weiss when they regrouped, he was taking too long to mop up a group of fresh recruits. They should be here to share in the spoils.
She forced the thought from her mind and focussed on the job at hand.
The Albion barrage may have prevented them from fulfilling the General's objective of securing the docks but if this fleet really was made up of outdated kit, she could at least score a few hits that would look good to the brass. It was still impossible for the two of them to sink this thing but footage of the ship aflame on her computation orb would certainly prove that she had done all she could to resist the enemy.
She would have to do a little more damage than she had originally intended of course. Since this was an inferior ship, it would be expected that she injure the behemoth more than if it were one of Albion's better vessels. However, no matter what she did, she'd be able to claim that she'd wounded a battleship. That would definitely sound good on her resume.
"Lieutenant Serabryakov, fire off a few artillery spells and set the deck alight!" She ordered gleefully, pleased that she had been gifted an easy opportunity to redeem herself in the eyes of her superiors. "I'll join you in a few moments I have a little something else in mind."
As expected of her adjutant, Visha quickly complied and rained several shots down on the deck. Tanya watched as the flames erupted at several points across the ship sending the distant sailors into a panic as they struggled to control the now burning deck. She watched the flames dance along the deck, causing secondary explosions as the fire found munitions and other flammable objects left unprotected by the crew. It reminded her of a war film the Salaryman had enjoyed, and she found herself resisting the urge to repeat a famous quote about the smell of napalm lest Visha think she'd gone insane.
Reluctantly she tore her gaze away and readied her own weapon, concentrating on preparing her own bout of destruction. What she was planning was a little more labour intensive, but she was sure it would be worth the effort.
Usually, a mage had to pick between high explosive or armour piercing formula when they fired an artillery spell at a target. Since they would usually be adding homing and guidance formula to the spell, it was considered too complicated to add both types of damage to the shot under normal circumstances. However, it was possible to combine them and fire an artillery spell that was both armour-piercing and highly explosive should the need arise. She'd even used it occasionally when she'd first been on the Rhine.
It did have its drawbacks however, it was incredibly mana intensive, and you had to sacrifice the guidance formula so as not to overcomplicate the spell. Additionally, you had to time the explosions instead of allowing the shots to simply explode on impact or you would gain no advantage from the armour-piercing component of the spell. Such a finite amount of control required a lot of concentration and would leave the user dangerously exposed.
Under normal circumstances, she wouldn't bother using such a spell. She preferred to make sure her targets were neutralised precisely and efficiently and pausing to concentrate on such a specialised formula was less than ideal on the battlefield. In this case, though she was willing to make an exception. She could cause more damage if the shots managed to penetrate deeper into the ship before they detonated.
They had limited ammunition so the extra firepower would go some way towards countering that deficiency. Additionally, the target was huge! She'd be ashamed of herself if she couldn't manage to hit this behemoth without a guidance formula. Most importantly it would be an impressive show for the general staff when they analysed this mission. Even though it was doubtful she could cause enough damage to completely incapacitate the ship, it would cause enough of a mess to scare a bunch of trainees. If she was lucky, it might spook the commander of this mission enough to have him pull the fleet out.
She'd be able to do enough to earn the forgiveness of General von Romel for the failure to secure the docks and best of all, she didn't need to rely on Being X and his cursed orb to do it.
I bet you're seething at how well I can do without you aren't you Being X? I told you humanity has no need for gods like you!
She summoned mana to her orb as she began calculating the correct formulas and felt the power begin to flow through her and into her weapon. Carefully she looked down the sights to aim her fire, ignoring the wildly inaccurate AA fire that still whizzed around in the air.
She didn't usually relish the destruction that she unleashed in battle, it saddened her to see the waste of human resources. However, this time she smiled as she felt the formula reach completion. Sometimes it was difficult not to enjoy your work.
"Finally, things are going my way." She grinned as she pulled the trigger.
September 25th Unified Year 1925
Forward Gun Magazine, HMS Hood 16:50
Able Seamen Hugh Walsh considered working in the ship's magazines as a bit of a mixed blessing. On the one hand, the Hood's weapon store was a triumph of modern engineering, and it was a great honour to serve on the pride of the fleet. Or at least that's what they kept telling him. It was filled with an impressive system of conveyor belts, cranes and hydraulic lifts that delivered their deadly cargo to the massive guns above. This meant that although there was still plenty of manual labour, the work was much easier than it had been when he'd served aboard the HMS Acorn. It was better for his back at least.
It was also one of the few places on the ship that managed to stay consistently dry. The big wigs that had constructed the Hood were content to let the crew live in perpetual damp conditions, but they had obviously been very worried about the welfare of the warheads the ship carried. As such, the magazine had a specialised device built-in that helped keep the moisture out of the air, so it was one of the more pleasant places to be on the entire ship.
However, the downside was that you had to work with several tonnes of highly volatile explosives. He'd always been acutely aware of that fact when he moved the heavy shells around and he was always slightly worried about what might happen if he were to drop one. Petty officer O'Doherty had always laughed at him about that. He said there was no need to worry about it, he'd feel no pain because he'd be dead before he realised it. It wasn't something Walsh found comforting.
The Petty officer also liked to remind him that there were safety measures to stop premature explosions and that the magazine was one of the most heavily armoured places on the ship. He was safe as houses; it was all but impossible for him to suffer anything more than a bad back down here. Walsh wasn't so sure; it was difficult not to think about how little it would take to set one of the shells off and have nothing to send home except a small pile of ash in an urn.
That was why he had ended up freezing up when he'd heard explosions from above.
Despite the loud clanking of the machinery, the blasts had vibrated through the decks and Walsh had felt a moment of unequivocal terror as he prepared himself for the worst.
There had been several blasts above he was sure of it, and he had heard panicked shouts describing fires on deck through the speaking tube. Yet fortunately for him, nothing had made it down here. It seemed he was safe, for now at least.
"Magazine! What's the holdup?" the voice of the gunnery officer echoed through the voice tube, breaking Walsh from his stupor. He needed to hurry up and send the next shell before he lost his rum ration. The officers got very testy if their gun wasn't firing as fast as the others.
He rushed to the munitions stack and hefted the next shell five shells onto the conveyer, pulling a leaver to send each one onward to the lift so that the loader could prepare their next shot. Another salvo of explosions shook the ship from above and Able Seaman Walsh did his best to ignore the unnerving noises from above and focus on his duties.
Suddenly, there was a loud ping and he heard something whizz past his ear before hearing a dull thud hit the metal floor by his foot. He looked down instinctively as his heart raced at the thought of what he might see, but was surprised to see nothing but a reasonably small glowing bullet embedded in the deck.
He drew his gaze upward to where it seemed the bullet had appeared from and noted a bullet hole in the ceiling above him; he was lucky not to have been hit! But it wasn't possible, was it? The deck armour was known to be weaker than the thick plate along the belt but there was no way small arms fire could penetrate it. Particularly since he was several decks down. It would take an incredibly lucky shot from an armour piercing shell to breach the magazine, how did this thing end up here?
His thoughts were broken as the glowing from the bullet below him seemed to brighten and a soft whine emanated from it.
It was fortunate for Able Seaman Hugh Walsh that his superior had been correct that he would be dead before he realised there was an explosion, although he also had no time to be thankful for this fact. Indeed, he had not even had time to process the terror he would have otherwise felt as the small bullet erupted in a magical explosion that ignited the other shells within the forward magazine and blew a hole in the Mighty Hood.
September 25th Unified Year 1925
Southern Sea, Several kilometres outside the bay of Turus, 17:00
Part of Colonel Severin Vianto wondered if he should feel guilty as he watched the distant tower of smoke from the safety of the destroyer Strasbourg. Not only had he been the one to advise Admiral Winters to send his Marine mages away from the fleet, but he had also refused to launch his troops to intercept the two Imperial mages that had suddenly appeared and rushed towards the Albion battlecruiser.
His official reason for his refusal of this request was that he was under orders and duty-bound to protect the refugee convoy as the battered, bruised and injured soldiers made their way back towards a friendly port. However, he would be lying if he were to say that his personal feelings hadn't coloured his judgment in this particular instance.
Winters, that traitorous Albion. He'd wanted him to suffer for his actions, he'd wanted some justice for the Francois citizens who died at the hands of his guns. The man had rushed this operation and he hadn't even deigned to tell his allies why, it was as though he had been looking for an excuse to attack the port. Surely the damage to his ship was some sort of karma or divine retribution, he told himself.
Yet more would die as a result of his inaction; sailors whose only crime was following Winters' orders. Was that really justice?
He wasn't sure, but he had made the choice to leave and he would learn to live with it. He had his own people to look after. The few ships of the refugee fleet were now making full steam and were headed back towards Casablanca and De Lugo's command. It was painfully familiar, almost as though they were being forced to re-enact the flight from Brest a few months ago. It was yet another humiliation, made much worse by the actions of their allies and the deaths of many of his countrymen.
He wouldn't shed a tear for those aboard Winters' fleet, he couldn't after what they had done. He couldn't avenge the Republicans murdered by the Admiral, but he certainly wouldn't run to aid him.
Let the Albish look after their own, I have my own people to worry about.
"Colonel." One of the Mana detection specialists called as he entered through the bulkhead door to join him, pausing only to salute the superior officer. "There's something about the mages attacking the Albion fleet I thought you might want to know."
Vianto felt a twinge of unease as he heard the man speak. The man sounded slightly uncomfortable as he spoke, as though he knew he were delivering unwelcome news.
"Go ahead." Vianto replied, trying to sound reassuring enough for the man to feel more comfortable with whatever he had to report.
"The mages were named. We double-checked, just to be sure." The operator began, stumbling over his words. "We have confirmed it is the mage we logged as Harpy and the Devil of the Rhine."
Her! Vianto's blood went cold as he heard the man's words. The Devil responsible for Arene!
He quickly turned to stare back over the distant tower of smoke. The Albish fleet was too far away, even if he and his mages launched now, the Devil would be long gone. By abandoning Winters and his ships he'd missed the chance to avenge the people of Arene, the Republic! He'd lost the chance to earn forgiveness for his failure to protect them.
"PUTAIN!" he yelled slamming his fist down hard onto the railing.
Again that witch had got the better of him, again he'd lost to the Devil, all he could do now is cut his losses and hope they would meet again.
"Tell the captain to remain on course and stay alert for any signs that the Imperials are trying to follow us into the open sea." Vianto told the operator through gritted teeth as he stared out over the seas.
"I hope you follow us, Devil." He said to himself out loud, knowing that it was unlikely his wish would come true. "I really do."
September 25th Unified Year 1925
Bay of Turus, 17:00
Admiral Winters stared in horror at the mass of flames and smoke emanating from deep inside the belly of the mighty Hood. The forward battery had managed to discharge one final barrage before erupting into a column of flame and soot, destroying the forward guns and blowing open a hole in the deck and sides of the ship.
It shouldn't have been possible! The pride of the fleet had been grievously wounded, perhaps even fatally so and by only two mages. No mage should be capable of hurting a battleship in such a way.
Damn that Vianto! The stubborn Francois bastard abandoned us! He knew we had limited defence against Mage assault, he was the one who advised sending it away! Winters growled internally, unable to tear his gaze away from the terrible spectacle before him. As always, the Republican penchant for making decisions with their heart instead of their brain had caused disaster, however this time it had been the noble sons of Albion who were forced to suffer for it.
The man had been angry, that was understandable, but a true officer doesn't let that anger cloud his judgement. There were far greater things at stake. That was why the Francois made for inferior soldiers.
Did the fool not realise that the only reason any of his countrymen had escaped the port at all was due to Winters' fleet? That the only reason his country was no longer in danger of becoming an officially sanctioned puppet of the Empire was because of his assault? That the destruction of this port may have saved countless of De Lugo's soldiers by robbing the Imperial's the chance to shorten their supply lines?
The Free Republic was indebted to the Allied Kingdom, both from its continued support and its actions here today. But how did the Franciosi dog repay them? By allowing the very ships that had saved their country to burn!
Winters would never forgive the man for this.
From his vantage point on his aircraft carrier, he could already see seawater flowing into the stricken battlecruiser's open wound as the waves washed over the deck. Such massive vessels could take a lot of punishment and were designed to displace an incredible amount of water to keep them afloat, even if their bellies were filling with water. However, Winters looked at the tear in the legendary vessel with undisguised fear. Despite the work of the genius artificers who had built this mighty ship, he couldn't be sure that it would survive this wound for long.
He felt a pain in his chest as he thought on what this could mean for the fleet, not only his own ships but the fleet Churbull had kept north to counter the Imperial fleet. Lord Marlborough had gambled that sending so many of their elite vessels away would coax out the High Sea's Fleet. Meaning they could engage them in a decisive naval battle to break the stalemate, assuming the remainder of the Home Fleet was capable of defeating them.
Winters had already been uneasy about this prospect, even more so when he had received the encoded message that the Home Fleet was moving to engage. However, after seeing the destruction wrought here, he was even more concerned.
If this so-called Devil of the Rhine could achieve such damage against a ship such as the Hood, what would their fleet be capable of? They knew that they'd been undergoing modernisation. Would the enemy fleet also have contingents of such powerful mages? Had they been hiding their true navel strength all this time?
What if the situation had been reversed and the Home fleet was walking into a trap? If this were so, and the fleet were defeated, Albion's waters would soon be dangerously undefended. Winter's fleet might soon be all that stood between the Allied Kingdom and invasion, he needed to get back and soon.
He couldn't let his current task go unfinished however, he was an officer of Albion and he would do his duty. If he finished destroying the port, it would at least keep this devil bottled up down here a little longer and with limited supplies. If they were lucky the whole task force might die of thirst, however, he didn't hold out much hope in that.
"Have the Hood break formation and head north and have the Foresight, Fearless and Enterprise escort her out, don't let those mages come round for another attack! Bring the fighters around, and see if they can cause them to think twice about what they do next." He ordered quickly, hoping to save the Hood the shame of going down in front of the enemy, before reluctantly bringing his focus back to the port. "Lieutenant Fraser, what's the status of the port facilities? How much damage have we caused?"
"Our estimates are that eighty-five per cent of the port has been rendered inoperable and will require several months if not longer to repair." The young officer reported, looking slightly pale and struggling to concentrate as his eyes kept darting towards the damaged battlecruiser. "Additionally there is now no intact birthing for larger vessels, only the light shipyards and the westernmost refuelling station appear to be largely undamaged."
Winters spared a glance at the last section of the docks that had not yet suffered under the guns of the fleet. Despite his concerns for his homeland, he didn't want to leave anything for the Imperial's to use. Even these facilities might grant some small advantage to an enemy so cunning and after watching the Hood suffer such a blow it would be unconscionable to allow it to go unanswered.
"Bring the rest of the fleet around and advance in two lines." He told one of the aides awaiting his next set of orders. "We'll make one final strafing run and head back to Gibraltar to refuel. I'm going to the communication room to report to the admiralty."
He turned back to the HMS Hood one more time as he watched the bow grow closer and closer to the waterline. He wasn't sure the ship would make it. The loss of the Hood in such an inglorious manner would be a heavy blow for morale, the Admiralty would not like it. Something would need to be done.
Author's notes
Hello everyone and as always thank you all for reading.
I had originally planned to release this chapter and the next chapter simultaneously as I was worried they wouldn't feel like complete chapters when separated. However, after going through this one I decided it was complete enough that it should be ok. The good news is that the next chapter is well underway so I should be able to release a little quicker than usual.
I'm not sure this has been one of my best chapters, I feel like I am better at the build-up and the aftermath rather than the actual climax. Additionally, I feel like I've spent too much time in the south now and I feel like the "Saint" plot has stalled a bit just so I could add more details of this campaign. Thus I've found it a little difficult to get things right. Hopefully, you all are still enjoying it though.
The good news is after the next chapter is complete, I'll be moving on with the main plot again, finishing off the South and heading off to the Russy Federation. All of which I'm really looking forward to.
Thank you all again for reading and I hope you enjoyed the chapter.
Xanen