[center][h2]Strategist[/h2][i][h3]HMS 'Dreadnought', 13 nm from Harbour[/h3][/i][@Paradox Witch][/center]

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 [i]'Dreadnought'[/i] 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.