[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/zG1CMLw.png[/img][h3]Harbour[/h3]
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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 [i]'HMS Ark Royal'[/i] - 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.

[b][i]Battleship[/i][/b] gun barrels ...

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[center][h3]HMS [i]'Dreadnought'[/i] - Off the Coast[/h3][/center]

Between the call to action stations and Strategist's incessant berating of her officers to [i]'wake the hell up!'[/i], '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 [i]'something'[/i] landward - that [i]something[/i] or [i]someONE[/i] 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."

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

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."

[i]"Yes, ma'am."[/i]

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 ...

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[center][b]
FROM:[/b] C. in C. HMS [i]'DREADNOUGHT'[/i] - No. 1 FUYUKI BATTLE SQUADRON, R.N.

[b]TO: [u]ANY[/u][/b]

[b]URGENT.[/b] 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 [u][b]PRECISE[/b][/u] CO-ORDINATES. [u][b]CALLS FOR FIRE WILL BE EXTREMELY DANGEROUS[/b][/u].

GOD SPEED.

[b]END.[/b][/center]