AN: Next chapter! Sorry for the delay, everyone. Was busy moving to the UK, where I'm doing a semester abroad.
Aboard the HMIS Invincible…
The HMIS Invincible was a masterpiece of engineering.
Built to outclass any other ship in both naval and air combat, it was designed to be the flagship of the Empire and its class, the aptly-named Invincible-Class Assault ship. Dwarfing even the colossal HMIS Retribution, the newly outfitted flagship of the Duke of Halifax, the Invincible bristled with guns and yet possessed enough of a sleek frame as to be considered beautiful.
Boasting room for over 10,000 crewmembers, it was supposed to house entire invasion forces and to also relieve some of the overpopulation problems that New Britannia was experiencing, what with the constant inflow of refugees from Europe and the Americas. From the United States alone, over 45,000 people had arrived by way of rafts from Florida, nearly dying in the process, had it not been for an errant Royal Navy vessel that had been on patrols and gotten lost.
What was more impressive was the weaponry complement of the Invincible and its named-after class. While the previous Assault ships had used Serpent-Class guns, the medium range type, the Invincible was fully equipped with Leviathan-Class Cannons, making it a deadly opponent.
Or, at least, it would have been, had construction been finished on it, and its crew recruited properly. Instead, it was a poorly armed, if heavily defended, moving time bomb. The MEG Reactors (all three of them, which was three times more than a small city required to be fully powered for a decade) had been pre-programmed to go into overload within a certain distance of the enemy fleet, and the rest of the ship had been packed with explosives.
Nevertheless, the sleek, blue-and-grey hulls of the four Invincible-class ships made a fearsome sight to behold as they glided through the air towards the enemy fleet at full speed.
At the helm of the Invincible, the flagship of the foursome, acting captain Henry McNamara stood erect, his face an implacable symbol of utter calm as he led his skeleton crew to their deaths. Utterly clean-shaven, fit, and wearing a crisp navy-blue uniform, he looked the perfect poster-child for the Imperial Navy. For that matter, he also held an academic record that outshone many of his peers, which was why most of his crew regarded his command of the Invincible as rather odd. After all, why cut short the life of such a promising officer?
"Mister Yates, alter course two degrees to starboard."
"Two degrees starboard. Aye, aye, sir."
Slowly, the reinforced windows at the front of the bridge began to show that the ship was indeed moving slightly towards starboard. Eventually, the correction was made and McNamara was so informed.
Nodding once, the captain acquiesced their report. "Excellent. Message the Implacable, Relentless, and Empire. Have a full report on the status of their reactors ready within twenty minutes."
"Aye, aye, sir."
At this last order, many of the crew looked at each other oddly. Why did McNamara want that sort of information? The reactors were pre-loaded with a program to go into meltdown procedure. Beyond that, there were standing orders to report any problems with the reactors, but nothing else. The captain was acting strangely indeed.
"Mister Perkins."
"Aye, sir!"
"What is the status of the Apparating areas?"
"Sir?" asked Perkins, confused. Those areas weren't supposed to be under any sort of use for another good two months.
"The Apparating areas in decks five, seven, twenty-three, thirty-five, and fifty-four, Perkins. What are their status?" asked McNamara again, this time more crisply as he hated to repeat himself.
Perkins blinked before looking down at his console, which reported on operating systems. Typing in a few command codes, Perkins squinted as the bright status report began to write itself at high speed.
"Apparating areas are…what the?" he muttered. His eyes widened as he re-read what he swore couldn't be possible. "…operational?"
McNamara nodded, pleased.
"B-but sir…they shouldn—"
"Thank you, mister Perkins, that will be all," cut in McNamara as he kept his eyes glued on the window before him, his eyes staring avidly at the growing dark blot before his small fleet.
The Death Eater Armada.
The greatest one ever seen since the start of the war.
As his crew busied themselves with the procedures they thought was required for the mission, McNamara took a few steps back and allowed himself a fierce grin.
His mission was almost complete.
He could still remember the secret orders he'd been given after leaving the Admiralty at Harrisburg…
"You want me to what?" asked McNamara, shocked.
The man before him looked grimly serious. "You heard me, Lieutenant. You will apply for command of the Invincible, then lead your fleet straight towards the Armada as per the Court's plan."
"B-but…Captain Williams…"
One of the men next to his host waved the concern away wearily. "He'll be taken care of. No need to worry about him." McNamara wondered what that could possibly mean.
"But the mission is a suicide run!" protested McNamara
His host gave him a fierce smile. "Are you saying you're not willing to give you life for the greater cause, mister McNamara?" he asked challengingly.
McNamara glared at the man before him now. "Don't twist my words! I would give my life for the cause, but I would rather also live to see it fulfilled!" he asserted. "I don't believe in any of that post-mortem nonsense!"
A third man chuckled at McNamara's statement, and a woman he'd not seen before in the room also laughed softly. His eyes were drawn to her shadowed figure unwillingly. It had an oddly…melodious sound to the hell were these people? How did they know what they knew? Just how long ago had they been planning this for?
"Don't worry your pretty little head about dying, Lieutenant," assured the third man, who was grinning down at him condescendingly. "You won't be in any danger."
McNamara's eyes snapped back to the men now. "What do you mean?" he asked suspiciously.
"You're of more use to us alive than you are dead, McNamara," answered the second man. "So we'll see to it that the mission that the Court set up doesn't kill you. All you need to do is follow their plan up until the meltdown procedure, at which point you will simply not activate the program."
McNamara's jaw dropped. "B-but…without the detonation, there's now way to cause any real damage to the Armada!" he gaped at his hosts. "The ships would be nothing more than flying hunks of metal!"
The first man arched an eyebrow, and the woman seemed highly amused by something he'd said. "Is that so?" asked the first man amusedly.
His host had then smiled, a confident tone to it. "Don't you worry about that. Just get your fleet into position, then we'll take care of the rest."
McNamara never considered himself anyone's dog, but at the moment, he did concede that the plan was a sound one, albeit complicated and totally out of the norm. Still, this meant promotion, and the patronage of a very wealthy and powerful faction within the Imperial system.
McNamara's smile became just a bit fiercer now, as the Armada came within engagement distance. This was it. This was the time when his allies would take over, and his own, thankless part in this would be over.
As the klaxons rang out due to the proximity alarms, triggered by the incoming projectiles and dragons being launched from the enemy ships, McNamara's attention instead went towards Perkins.
"Mister Perkins!"
"Aye, sir!"
"Fire up the Apparating chambers!"
That caught the crewman off-guard. "S-sir?"
McNamara glared at the man as the ship shook from a small impact. It barely dented the hull, but the force of the impact had been strong enough to still cause a bit of a tremor.
"Do it, damn it!" barked McNamara. Thus jolted out of his stupor, Perkins immediately typed away at his console, activating the Apparating chambers one by one.
"Sir!"
McNamara turned his attention to the crewman who'd called for his attention. "What is it?" he demanded.
"Shouldn't we activate the program? We're well within range, sir!"
"No!" retorted McNamara. 'Not yet,' he thought as the ship shook once more from a missile that exploded near the hull.
The situation remained this same way for another ten minutes or so, when one of McNamara's crewmen asked the same question again, this time far more desperately, however, as the enemy was beginning to dent the ship's thick armour.
Instead of replying, however, McNamara turned to Perkins. "Perkins! Status of the Apparating chambers?" he demanded.
"Still nothing, sir!" replied Perkins, now thoroughly confused by his captain's actions. "Sir, we're not expecting anyone. Why--?"
"Nevermind that, Perkins!" rebuked McNamara as he held on, feeling the tremor of another hit. "Just tell me when they become active!"
The bridge rocked a bit as one of the blasts from the enemy ships impacted with the shield violently. "Shields to maximum!" shouted McNamara.
"Aye, aye, sir!"
Perkins sighed in frustration at the order, his eyes turning back to the console before him, wondering whether the promising officer had snapped under the realization of the suicidal aspect of the mission. He momentarily thought of going behind his captain's back and turning on the program, when the console finally beeped at him.
Lazily lifting his eyes to the console screen, his eyes quickly widened as the report came in that all of the Apparation chambers—structures that had been built for human transportation across ships without the need of shuttles—had become active and were in use.
"S-Sir!" shouted the man as he stood up in alarm.
"What is it, Perkins?" asked McNamara irritably.
"The chambers! They're active!"
McNamara snapped his attention to the crewman before cheering mentally as he turned to the scene of chaos before him and smiled triumphantly. The plan was in motion. Everything was going right according to his superiors' orders.
Suddenly, the door that led to the hallway behind the deck beeped loudly, indicating that someone had input the right access codes and was coming in. Knowingly instantly who it was, McNamara spun on his heel and, throwing a crisp, stiff salute, smiled at the new arrivals, while his crew looked on in sheer shock.
"Welcome aboard, sir."
The moment was one that would be burned into Perkins' mind for the rest of his life. Even when he was old and grey, and was recalling what little of his life he could remember to Clarence Horatio Winters, the man who would one day become famous for his book, History of the New British Empire, this particular moment was one of the sharpest memories he had.
For it was the memory of when the tide was turned. When the stalemate of the war was completely shattered.
From here on out, the war was to become far more deadly, and at its helm would be one of the greatest war heroes of the age.
Walking up the stairs to the deck, the window's light slowly showing the crew his identity, hands clasped behind his back, his infamous red coat billowing in an unseen breeze, his messy, untameable hair giving him a handsome demeanour only sharpened by the confident, fierce smile he wore, the man strode into the bridge slowly, confidently. His every step had the crew's eyes glued to him.
And, slightly revealed by the walking motion, a lightning bolt scar on his forehead appeared, hidden underneath his hair.
"Gentlemen, time to turn the tide."
The Iron Duke had arrived.
The crew watched in awe as the Duke of Halifax made his way to the platform by the windows that McNamara had stood. The ship's captain had quickly vacated the platform, instead standing demurely to one side as the architect of the Empire's greatest war machine took his place.
"Is everything set, Captain McNamara?" he asked. The officer flushed with pride at the words out of his superior's mouth. It was as good as a formal promotion to the position he coveted.
"Aye, aye, Your Grace," reported McNamara. "The enemy fleet has been stopped here, although we have reports of several troop carrier-sized transports bypassing the formation to attack the capital," he added. "Shall we scramble our fighter contingents to intercept?"
Harry shook his head. "No, no…" he replied dismissively. "They'll be well taken care of."
"Aye, sir," agreed McNamara, before turning to view the battle beyond the windows as well. He made himself comfortable, too, placing a hand on his hip—after all, this was most likely to be a very long battle.
"What is the situation regarding the staffing of the ship?" asked Harry as he calmly observed the barrage the enemy fleet was launching on the Invincible's shields.
McNamara turned his head to the Perkins, who was nominally in charge of such affairs. "Perkins! Report!"
The poor man jumped in his seat at the barked order, and quickly fumbled with his terminal to bring up the information requested. "Ah, err…aye, aye, sir!" he stumbled. "Reports indicate that Engineering is now fully staffed, and only half of the weapons emplacements are ready to fire!"
Harry shook his head. "Not yet, then."
"Sir?" asked McNamara.
"When we launch our own barrage, Captain, it will be one that will make them regret ever having imagined attacking the Empire," replied Harry. "Let me know the moment all weapon placements are fully online."
"Aye, aye, sir."
"Sir!" reported the radar technician. "Radar indicates several incoming dragon squadrons from the enemy fleet!"
"Scramble the fighters, Captain," Harry easily replied.
"Aye, aye, sir! Scramble the fighters!" ordered McNamara loudly. Feebly, he could hear the answering call of "Scrambling fighters!" from the technician in charge of giving the go-ahead to the full contingent of fighter squadrons that had been hidden in the hangar bay.
"Fighters scrambled!" came the next report. "Wings Falcon, Lion, Black Knight, and Joker report engagement with the enemy!"
While McNamara nodded, pleased, Harry kept his eyes on the battle outside the window. He could see the Imperial fighters roaring through the skies chasing the dragon riders, or vice-versa, and the exchange of fire between the two lit up the sky like nothing else. Of course, even that exchange was overshadowed by the bursts of light that emanated form the head-on collisions of Death Eater rounds against the shields of the massive Imperial airships.
"Sir!" called out Perkins, slowly managing to reconcile reality with what he was experiencing. "Weapon systems are now at seventy five percent staffing capacity!"
"Sir?" asked McNamara towards Harry. The young Duke, however, shook his head.
"Not yet."
"Sir, the Implacable, Empire, and Relentless all report full staffing," called out the communications officer. "They are asking for orders."
"…" Harry stayed silent, so McNamara took over.
"All ships are to ready for concerted, mass weapons barrage!" he ordered. "Do not open fire until His Grace orders it!"
"Aye, aye, sir! Holding fire!"
"Sir! Wings Lion and Black Knight report cleared sectors!" relayed the appropriate officer. "Wings Joker and Falcon report stiff resistance, however, and request reinforcements from Lion and Black Knight."
"Do it," answered Harry promptly to McNamara, who had been looking up to him.
"Aye, aye, sir!" agreed McNamara, who then shot out his arm towards the reporting officer. "Send squadrons three and four of both Lion and Black Knight to reinforce Falcon and Joker!"
"Aye, aye, sir! Sending reinforcements!"
"Sir!" Perkins shouted then. "Weapon systems staffing is complete! All systems are now operational!"
Harry's calm demeanour vanished at those words. Instead, they were replaced by the most feral smile that McNamara had ever seen—strangely, it made the newly-appointed Captain's blood run wild as well. Perhaps it was the magical aura the Duke was emitting unconsciously, or their own bloodlust finally awoken, but everyone suddenly seemed as energized as the Duke was.
"All ships, target the first line of the enemy fleet," ordered Harry. "On my signal, open fire with all firing units."
A moment passed as the weapons officers relayed the orders and got their replies. Eventually, one of them, taking the initiative, called out, "All weapon systems ready to fire, Your Grace!"
Harry smiled, eyes narrowed in predatory pleasure. He gave one nod to McNamara before the officer turned to his crew and, bringing up an arm, immediately swung it down.
"OPEN FIRE!"