MrCellophane

Fate/Factitious Paradigm

Bridge - 'HMS Dreadnought'
Off the Coast

@Paradox Witch

As the fitted-out keel of HMS Hydra hit the waves, propellers kicking up spray as the newly-completed destroyer urgently began to back out of the Harbor, Strategist felt her hands tighten around her binoculars. For several minutes, every officer had been at their stations, each gun trained landward ... waiting for this oncoming enemy.

Yet, so far, no word, no rustle in any nearby treeline or even the sound of gunfire from the stood-ready Marines landward. Just WHAT was their enemy playing at?!

"Ma'am," The voice of a rating snapped the Admiral out of her fuming and she lowered her glasses. "The last signal we recieved landward. From a 'Servant Nikola Tesla'."

The Admiral snatched the wireless transcript and, frowning, hurriedly read over the typed-out message:

FROM: Servant Nikola Tesla, Class Archer

TO: C. in C. HMS 'DREADNOUGHT' - No. 1 FUYUKI BATTLE SQUADRON, R.N.

Message received. Will coordinate via Frequency Y if artillery is required. Enemy is several hundred combatants, believed to be Heroic Spirit level. Will keep you updated, do not fire on Lat. 47.9 N., Long 4 35 E.

Current status of Pelion's Pub/Unknown Rock Dome is unclear, primary threat may be being held back. May be building power. Wait for update before firing on those coordinates. We must make sure nothing goes wrong, lest we end the world.

Your service is appreciated.

END.

Strategist nodded, biting her lower lip before passing the missive back to the Petty Officer. "Pass the word to the gun-plotting room; have the fleet adjust our firing plans for this exception ... As well for our now many-fold foe." Turning her scowling eyes back to the horizon, she didn't acknowledge the officer's salute, or the clamp of feet against the bridge's deck as he disappeared below.

"Trouble, ma'am?" CTN Bacon inquired by Strategist's side, his eyes glued to the rear of his binoculars.
"An apocalypse's worth, if that last communique is right." Strategist replied. "I only hope we're up to the mark, intelligence or not. We have to be."

She turned to the recently-arrived Carley, her eyes reflecting momentary sorrow at their dilemma, before she nodded in apology. "I ... I normally am not one for big rallying speeches." She snorted in self-loathing. "Actually, I'm not good at much outside of the Navy and Empire I've known and loved. But, if this somehow goes keel-up and we don't make it out of here alive ..."

The Servant leaned one hand on the pommel of her cutlass, extending the other glove-covered hand to Carley. "Know that I - Fleet Admiral of the Royal Navy Johanna Arburthnot Fisher - have been deeply honored to have been both your sword and your Servant. And come what may, the Navy - my Navy - will fight to the last round and until the last keel is claimed by the depths."

Fate/Factitious Paradigm

Harbour

Throughout her long career within (what she considered) the finest Navy on this Earth, Strategist had obtained a 'gut feeling' on many an occasion over any action that'd need to be taken; 'hunches' over the intent of an enemy's course of action, or when she felt or knew she was taking the correct course. She was no Caster or magician, granted, but more oftne then not, such 'calls' have salvaged her crews and ships from danger.

Now was one of those times.

Rounding on her booted heels, she cupped her gloved hands to her mouth and screamed from her spot from the pier across to the berths, "Get those destroyers finished and launched! ON! THE! DOUBLE!"

Striding back into the frantic activity that was kicked up within the docks, she dodged scattering press-ganged Marines and crewmen as they struggled to finish outfitting their assigned ships, located her nominated 'foreman' and snatched a trio of rolled up plans the Marine had carried in the crook of his arm, rapidly unrolling and consulting the blueprints she had drafted.

"No!" she snarled, dumping the first plan onto the ground (depicting what appeared to be a pair of modified civilian ships) before she took up the second set of plans. "No! This is NOT what we need right now!" she growled again; another set of plans - with the label of 'HMS Ark Royal' - were tossed aside.

She settled on the third set of plans, her amber-irised eyes scanning over the linework and scribbled mathmaticss, before passing the plans back. "Alright, we're going with this design. Use the last pair of cargo ships as your basis and whatever we have left stored in Warehouse 7. I need those destroyers as soon as possible and Model 0409 seaworthy and ready for battle! We have less then an hour before it's all over for us! Now GO!"

Without a further word of explanation, Strategist dematerialised and left the harbour behind her, returning to her ship. Behind her, workers prised the hanger-like doors of Warehouse 7 open and began to haul out a series of rifled metal cylindrical barrels.

Battleship gun barrels ...

---

HMS 'Dreadnought' - Off the Coast

Between the call to action stations and Strategist's incessant berating of her officers to 'wake the hell up!', 'Dreadnought's prior peaceful vigil had been suddenly thrown into controlled chaos. Strategist hadn't spared a second from either herself or her senior staff, hounding them all between the bridge and the chart room. She hastily outlined a battle formation and battle-plan to them, explaining that there was 'something' landward - that something or someONE had thrown the War into chaos and - for all she knew - could end up threatening their fleet!

Even if her gut was wrong, Strategist was not prepared to take any chances for her or her Master.

Dismissing the officers, she got on the 'horn'. "Bridge, Chartroom. Send a rating to collect Miss Carly-Beth and bring her to the bridge. Tell her that the fleet is now at battle-readiness and I'll be needing whatever masks or skills she has available."

"Understood, ma'am, but what do I tell her if she asks why?"

Strategist huffed in annoyance; in her haste, she'd failed to let her Master know what had been going on, or why. "Tell her, for now, that I have a very ominous feeling something's just gone horribly wrong landward. I'll elaborate on her arrival; I'll be in the wireless room for now and will return to the bridge in the next few minutes."

"Yes, ma'am."

Slapping the receiver back in place, Strategist darted off towards the wireless room, scribbling down a reasonably-sized message that she intended to transmit over the Service Mark. III wirelesses. If, she hoped, someone was listening in or could detect that message, then there might be a chance that something might be salvagable from whatever disaster loomed on the horizon ...

---

FROM: C. in C. HMS 'DREADNOUGHT' - No. 1 FUYUKI BATTLE SQUADRON, R.N.

TO: ANY

URGENT. POSSIBLE HOSTILE BEING IN PROXIMITY OF FUYUKI AREA. BELIEVED TO BE OF EXTREME RISK OUTSIDE OF H.G.W. PARAMETERS.

MOVING TO IMMEDIATE BATTLE ALERT. MY POSITION: LAT. 56 48' N., LONG. 5 21' E.

AM WILLING TO CO-ORDINATE COUNTER-OFFENSIVE OPERATIONS WITH ANY WILLING OR ABLE-BODIED PARTICIPANT; CONTACT ON WIRELESS FREQUENCY "Z" (XXX GhZ) WITH AVAILABLE INTELLIGENCE, NUMBERS, CAPABILITIES AND ANY PRE-EXISTING PLAN OF ATTACK. IF UNABLE TO TRANSMIT, RENDEZVOUS AT MY CO-ORDINATES NEAR HARBOR FOR IN-PERSON CO-ORDINATION.

ANY CALLS FOR FIRE ARE TO BE CONTACTED ON FREQUENCY "Y" (ZZZ GhZ) WITH THE PRECISE CO-ORDINATES. CALLS FOR FIRE WILL BE EXTREMELY DANGEROUS.

GOD SPEED.

END.

Fate/Factitious Paradigm

Harbour

@Paradox Witch

Right on schedule, Sstrategist smugly thought to herself, standing on the bow of her newest charge as its completed keel slid into the waterways. Within the gloom of the moon, the Servant could be seen standing steadily onboard an oddly-shaped ship. Unlike an ironclad or any of the 'newer' ships - seemingly fantastical - that Strategist had planned for and assisted her crew in making, this ship's profile was akin to an elliptical cylinder, tapering at the bow and stern and topped by a ship's gun and a steel, half story-high tower, topped by periscope sights. Small winglets sprouted off the bow and stern and the strange ship sat in the water to the point where one can reasonably slide off the side and into the water for a 'dip'.

However, as with all of Strategist's designs, this wasn't a pleasure cruiser or yacht. It was a ship patterned on a series of ideas trailing as far back as when a keg barrel-shaped that once wrecked terror on the oceans of America. A ship designed not to float on the sea, but to hide beneath it and to sink any enemy craft without being seen.

An E-class submersible.

Smoothly stepping off the bow of the HMS E21 and onto the pier, Strategist admired the handy-work she and her co-opted fellow sailors and Marines had been working on until this evening. Aside from the submarine, two more destroyers had been commissioned, while the half-completed hulls of three more - scraped together from whatever steel and relevant materials and equipment they could find and repurpose - were being swarmed over by welder-wielding work crews. The last two, idle ships were seized cargo ships secured to their piers; Strategist were saving these for one last project.

Aye, the last for now. As of tonight, she was effectively running short of practically every resource: steel, salvage, armaments and - if push came to it - what little Mana she'd been hoarding on to. She also knew that she could not last on what the Harbour could provide or could be taken by force-of-arms; the people within the City were suffering enough as it was without her destroying what little livelyhood they had left as well. Come the dawn, she would have to take her small fleet to track down more ships at sea to commandeer ... or to actually put her pooled-together assets to decisive use in the War, whatever the outcome of the proposed 'meet-and-greet', going on in the newly-created crater, turned out.

Problem was, even with this small task-force she had assembled, she knew she wasn't ready to make an audacious move on the Grail itself. And the latter, in of itself, was becoming a problem: tracking it down was one thing. Holding it and fighting off every other Servant who'd do-or-die to get it was another.

She sighed in audible frustration, putting a gloved hand to her forehead. "The mathematics of defeat, Fleet Admiral." she bitterly muttered, to both herself and through her link to Carly-Beth, if only to prompt the latter for advice.

E-class

Fate/Factitious Paradigm

Main Deck, HMS 'Dreadnought' - Harbour

@Paradox Witch

Strategist blinked in surprise at the penguin's hostile response to her Master, which quickly resolved to anger as her Webley was, once again, unholstered. "Listen to me, you out-of-place water fowl!" she growled, taking aim. "I don't give a damn who your Master is or where they're from, but you're on my ship. Show some respect or I'll hammer it into you, the hard way!" Warning delivered, she returned her sidearm to its place as she amended, "However, your invitation is noted."

She glanced over to Carly as the latter suggested she'd send a mask along, adding, "On the one hand, I'd offer myself to go as well, Master. I suspect having a human face to the crowd would be better then having a floating mask. On the other ..." She didn't need to finish that sentence to know her Master would come to the same conclusion: that sending Strategist into the lion's den would not only be a major risk, but - if the meeting was a trap - their killing power would be entirely nullified if Strategist was killed.

Shrugging, the Strategist about-turned and headed for the battleship's citadel, calling back over her epaulet shoulder, "I'll be in my quarters in the aft section if you need me."

---

Admiral's Quarters, HMS 'Dreadnought'

The fact that Strategist was even able to have any quarters aboard her ship was a miracle unto itself, considering most of her officers slept in tight quarters, often in fold-down cots or even hammocks.

The room itself, as a result, was a limited, spartan affair. A fold-down cot with a pair of sheets, a thin blanket and pillow (all R.N.-issue, of course) ran parallel to one of the long bulkheads. An oaken writing desk and chair sat opposite, covered with charts, writing material, intelligence reports and (in one corner) a portable telephone conneced to the bridge and a mobile Morse transmitter/reciever. By the hatch, a pitifully-small washing basin and mirror sat; there was no sign of any showering ablutions within the room. Finally, in conjunction with the sole porthole that let fresh air in, a pair of glowing bulbs were suspended in steel restraints, welded in place, and hung from the series of pipes that ran above the occupants' head.

Not exactly Five Star living at the Ritz. Adequate, however, considering the cramped nature of the ship and it's 'combat first' design approach.

For now, Strategist sat at her desk, mulling over a couple of her papers. One of these reports was the latest meteorological updates: tidal changes, expected weather patterns, wind conditions and so forth.

The other, however, was of particular import to both Strategist and any enemy Servant who might get their hands on it. It was a multi-page report featuring a list of names, required components, measurements, estimated 'Times to Completion' and reams upon reams of additional data, linked to listed appendix numbers. The names - categorised appropriately - would send a chill up the spines of any enemy who had a hint of modern military nautical knowledge:

DREADNOUGHTS
HMS Dreadnought
HMS Bellephron
HMS Superb
HMS Temeraire
HMS St. Vincent
HMS Collingwood
HMS Vanguard
HMS Neptune
HMS Colossus
HMS Heracles
HMS Orion
HMS Monarch
HMS Conquerer
HMS Thunderer
HMS King George V
HMS Centurion
HMS Audacious
HMS Ajax
HMS Iron Duke
HMS Marlborough
HMS Benbow
HMS Empress of India
HMS Agincourt
HMS Erin
HMS Canada
HMS Queen Elizabeth
HMS Warspite
HMS Barham
HMS Valiant
HMS Malaya
HMS Agincourt (II)
HMS Revenge
HMS Royal Sovereign
HMS Royal Oak
HMS Resolution
HMS Ramillies

(...)

SEAPLANE CARRIERS
HMS Ark Royal ...

(...)

SUBMARINES
HMS E1 - E9 (Batch One)
HMS E10 - E20 (Batch Two)
HMS E21 - E56 (Batch Three)

and so on and so forth.

This wasn't a mere inventory listing: it was Strategist's grand design. A design for a fleet capable of overwhelming the entire Grail War system by force and recovering the 'ultimate artifact and weapon' mankind had ever desired and sought-for in vain:

A GRAND FLEET.

Fate/Factitious Paradigm

Main Deck - HMS 'Dreadnought', 3nm from Harbor

@Paradox Witch

Having dismissed her earlier assembly (having also heard and seen some of the after-effects of the earlier detonation, and planning a plan of action regarding a probable investigation in future), on her way to her quarters at the aft end of the ship, Strategist was stopped in her tracks near the armoured citadel by an unusual sight: her Master talking to a penguin.

Wait - how on God's earth did a penguin get aboard her ship? In the middle of the southern Sea of Japan?!

Curious, the Servant folded up her procured map folder and approached the pair quizzically. She cleared her throat, asking Carly-Beth, "It seems we have another visitor, ma'am. Another minion of the Piper's, or is this courier from someone else?"

With no immediate answer, she shrugged, folded her arms and tapped a boot against the deck.

Fate/Factitious Paradigm

Bow Deck, HMS 'Dreadnought', Outside Harbor
HOLY GRAIL WAR - DAY 4

@Paradox Witch@Argonaut

Strategist felt her uniformed chest swell with pride as she strode out from behind 'A' turret and passed her assembled officers, Marines and ratings. The sea that afternoon had been calm; everyone had been working around the clock with little rest, judging from both her own weariness and the visible signs of bleary-eyes among her men.

But their work since the successful capture of the Harbor had paid off. Strategist clambered up an external ladder and planted her boots in an 'at ease' posture (likewise placing her hands behind her back) and stared down at the upturned faces.

"Gentlemen!" she addressed them, trying to make herself heard. "Thanks to your efforts the previous day, we have succeeded in our first action of this new war! The securing of this harbor has not only allowed us to gain a foothold into Fuyuki, but has also given us access to raw material and a place to lie-up!"

A gloved hand thrust itself out towards the Harbor. "More then that, your conduct during the raid and in securing our salvage has been exemplary! Thanks to your restraint, your swiftness in the assault and in the control of your officers, the dock-workers and foremen of Fuyuki still have a place to come and work today! Furthermore, you have succeeded in helping us lay the foundations of our new fleet!"

A quartet of ship-horns and whistles shuddered out from the harbor and, in gradual succession, four more grey-armored hulls came into view, falling in behind the still-cruising 'Dreadnought'. Three of them were small, swift destroyers (Acheron-class), while lumbering behind them at a slightly-slower pace was the outline of a battlecruiser - HMS 'Invincible'; the first of her type anywhere in the world. All of them had been recreated from Strategist's memorised blue-prints, salvaged from pre-existing civilian hulls and worked on over the course of the previous evening and this morning; Strategist had to remind herself that she'd need to see her Master for much-needed Mana replenishment once she was finished here.

Strategist snapped to attention, slamming her boots against the cast-steel turret armour. "Three cheers for the Empire and Royal Navy! And three cheers for the 'Dreadnought'! Hip! Hip-hip!"

A hundred or so peaked caps and sailors hats were simultaneously raised from brows in salute. "HUZZAH!"

"Hip! Hip-hip!"
"HUZZAH!"
"Hip! Hip-hip!"
"HUZZAH!"

---

HMS Invincible (BC)

Acheron-class (DD)

Fate/Factitious Paradigm

Bridge, HMS 'Dreadnought', 3nms from Miyama Harbor

@Paradox Witch@Argonaut

Continuing to maintain her perch on the bridge and peering on the landward horizon through her binoculars, Strategist felt a slight smile tug at the corner of her lips as, in the sea below, her assigned Marine detachment 'lowering away' and rowing towards the harbor's entrance. One boat had managed to make it to shore - having launched early while the others were being loaded and tossed about in 'Dreadnought's' wake - and its passengers were even now hauling themselves and their weapons out onto the berth and directing their assault towards the nearest occupied dock.

"It's quite beautiful, isn't it?" she wistfully remarked aloud.

A confused Captain Reginald turned from consulting his copy of the navigation charts. "Ma'am?"

Lowering her binoculars, Strategist inclined her head to her captain and remarked, "Our boys going ashore. A shame the Admiralty didn't think of reactivating the Royal Marines as a dedicated unit proper - they'd have been of greater help. Ah well, I suppose who we have right now - under the heading of the 'Royal Navy Division' - will have to suffice."

"They are, technically speaking, still Marines, ma'am." Reginald added. "Even if they have a different tag to their shoulders."

"Quite." Strategist nodded. "Well, now that we're on station, I want us moving at six to 10 knots per our patrol pattern. But don't stray us too far - I doubt Servants can walk on water before we can blink, but I'm not going to take that chance."

"Yes, ma'am. Erm, should I have Miss Carly-Beth brought up to the bridge to observe this operation? I think her odd little 'peculiarity' would be of assistance."

Strategist shook her head. "No." She quickly rethought. "Wait, yes, definitely. It wouldn't afford us to keep her in the dark on anything and everything; we'll need her input."

As the Captain dispatched an Ensign to locate and bring Carly-Beth "with the Admiral's compliments", and as more of the ship's launch boats arrived at the docks, spotters and signal lamp operators set to work broadcasting a series of signal flashes towards any ship in dock or trying to leave:

CIVILIAN SHIPS, CIVILIAN SHIPS, THIS IS A MILITARY OPERATION. REMAIN IN PORT OR ON PRE-AUTHORISED COURSE UNTIL OPERATION'S COMPLETION - YOU WILL NOT BE HARMED. ANY ACTIVE RESISTANCE BY YOU OR I.J.N. FLEET ELEMENTS WILL BE RESPONDED TO IN KIND.

REPEAT: CIVILIAN SHIPS, THIS IS ...

Fate/Factitious Paradigm

-ignore-

Fate/Factitious Paradigm

"Dreadnought", 9nm from Harbour

@Paradox Witch@Argonaut

Lowering her binoculars once the smog from the detonations of high explosive warheads cleared, Strategist felt a grim satisfaction pass through her veins - colder then the wind which blew across the bridge and chilled her through her uniform jacket. Her first action - both as a Heroic Spirit and for her war-machine, and already, they've racked up their first success of this War.

Or did they? A glimmer from the coastline caught her eyes and, as she snatched her binoculars once again, she inhaled sharply as the dying World Tree's baleful glare shot towards her ship.

"HELM, HARD TO PO-" The order was barely out of her lips before - unknown to her - Carly's newest addition to her mask collection intervened. For a split second she saw a speck dart towards the oncoming beam, then her world turned, briefly, bright crimson; she, the other deck officers and anyone else external of the ship's citadel were forced to shield their eyes. When their arms and hands were lowered, the detonation - like both the World Tree and their unknown savior - was gone.

Strategist sighed with audible relief, thanking the Lord and whatever other powers-that-be in this war that 'Dreadnought' had not succumbed to the death throes of that relic. Even so, she knew that time for her and whatever plans she laid had now been considerably shortened. If she and her ship were to operate with impunity, then the planned-for seizure of Miyama's Harbor and any ships it contained would have to be moved up from this evening to right now.

"Marines!" she yelled over the side, catching the attention of her ship's company. "Change of plans!" A gloved fist punched the air as she ordered, "We! Move! NOW!"

A torrent of cheers broke out on the gun-deck as Strategist briefly withdrew to pass down new orders to her officers. "Bring our ship in within three nautical miles of the coastline, by the harbour. Once we are in position, we will disembark any Marine not assigned to gun duty and carry out our assault on the harbor as planned. Captain Reginald," she turned to the ships' commander. "As soon as we are unloaded, I want a continuing patrol and firing arc maintained along the harbor. Any ship that attempts to escape or arrive is to be warned off; all military craft will be ordered to heave-to and prepare to be boarded. No quarter will be given to any enemy Servant who attempt to stymie the landing."

She widened her audience slightly, adding to the others, "I want this one done by-the-numbers, with no civilian casualties if we can avoid it. We're part of a Holy Grail War, not the next Tsushima! I expect you all to carry out your duties effectively and in line with the Articles of War. Is that clear?"

A chorus of replies answered affirmatively and Strategist allowed herself a brief smile; she knew that they would not let her down.

"Very well," she concluded as, behind and below her, the ship's Marines made final preparations to their launches and to their equipment. "Then let's get it done."

Fate/Factitious Paradigm

Strategist

HMS 'Dreadnought', 13 nm from Harbour

@Paradox Witch

Strategist nodded when Carly brought up the issue of any blockade. "Under the Articles of War, I wouldn't even dream of doing such a thing. And you're right, Master - this place needs to get back on its feet; we best not make it worse."

She paced the deck for a few moments, running the numbers through her head, before adding, "If your 'scout' could find a way of transmitting information to my ship - maybe the old fashioned Morse could do - I can then have my captain act on any warnings your ... erm, 'companion' forwards. For now, though, I better concentrate on planning the raid on the harbor. If we can secure it for ourselves, that'd arguably be the best option, but even getting a few docked vessels of significant tonnage will be enough."

At Carly's second point, Strategist's expression soured. "If ... that is what you believe best, Master, though I must respectfully disagree. For the moment, I'll ascede to working with that rat-thing's master if it'll keep the peace and us out from underneath the guns of another. But we can't go this war alone, especially not so early to the point where we'd be cut down by others if they also detect our presence out here. We may be the ruling power on the waves for now, but we are just one ship, and I need not remind you that practically any other Servant could easily butcher me in close quarters."

She let out a frustrated breath through her nostrils. "I'll keep your wishes in mind for now, Master. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a firing plan to draft up and a Marine operation to put in place for tonight."

As she strode along the deck, making her way to one of the hatches that led into the superstructure, Strategist yelled up to an Ensign peering over the side of the bridge that surmounted the towering fore tower and wheelhouse. "Ensign, pass order to wheelhouse: proceed to bearing 290, speed at one-quarter!"

"Aye-aye, ma'am!"

"I'm not finished!" Strategist held up a gloved hand to stop the eager junior officer in his tracks. "Pass orders to the ship's Naval Company and officers: they are to meet me in the chartroom in the next twenty minutes!"

The lad saluted and departed. Below Strategist's boots, telegraphs rang, crewmen attended to their orders and the steam turbines powering her ship whined. A slight vertigo passed through Strategist's spine as 'Dreadnought' began to slowly bank and make her way shoreward, as the Servant disappeared through a hatch in the 'citadel' and began to make her way down a deck.