'A Navy with a State'

It was a normal day on the HMS Iron Duke. The sun was quickly rising in the month of June, and the crew went about their daily routine.

Able Rate Jack Baker woke up from his metal bed, stretching his calves and his arms after a long sleep before joining the rest of his crewmates in the dining hall after a quick freshen-up. His mouth still tasted of toothpaste as he wolfed down his bacon rations. He really needed to stop getting up so late.

Rumours abounded about the few jokes people were to play on each other before returning to the Home Isles. Once suggested putting fried eggs in the Weapon Officer’s hammock, as he always mockingly expected ‘Breakfast in bed’ from the Able Rates. Jack didn’t bother to hear the rest. He hadn’t washed his face beforehand and so for most of it he felt dirty.

His family weren’t far away now, the brief scare the Navy was in was soon to pass, and he could continue his holiday. He had only joined the Navy two years before, and had only been on one patrol mission previously, and despite Jack’s requests as to how normal this was, few of them said it was routine, and none of the crew members could explain what was going on.

As he rushed off to grab his flannel, one of the Communication officers ran right into Jack’s side, slamming his spine against the hull.

‘What was that for?’ Jack demanded. His spine felt like it had been poked with a cattle prod.

The man muttered a quick apology before he could even finish his question. He dashed to sidestep Jack and then rushed off, heading straight for the briefing room.

Opening the door to his chambers, he quickly doused the cloth in hot water before covering his face, vision going periodically black. Why was the daft man in such a rush? Jack pondered this for a moment. The sudden mobilization of the fleets was almost surely over, the government knew it couldn’t try the patience of the Navy too much, as many chose the current time for their holiday break, whatever number of weeks they chose.

Maybe he was just being overly aggressive. It was a sudden deployment and the man probably didn’t want to annoy Commander West. His annoyance faded gradually. There was going to be a lot of paperwork due for the administration because of this surprise fleet movement.

He arrived in the briefing room, except with one problem. No senior officers were in sight. There must be a delay, Jack thought. Maybe it had something to do with the Communications officer Men and women stood around simply waiting for the briefing. Minutes passed. Finally, the staff arrived. They looked like usual, however recently promoted Midshipman Hopkinson looked rather uneasy, like he was several steps away from using a porthole as a sick bowl.

The briefing revealed plans to go on for a longer journey than expected, getting some annoyed looks from many of the crew.

‘We will diverge our path towards HMS Neptune, docking at Vulcan for 24 hours. All other operating procedures are to be expected.’

They left as soon as they came in, slamming the door behind them.

Most shrugged this off and went to their posts. The few off duty began to question this. Why was the briefing and orders so vague? Why was nothing coming from above on the situation for this sudden deployment?

The date is 23rd of July, 1997.

Today is the day the day the bombs fell.

dr150119012sp-hms-iron-duke.jpg


A picture of the HMS Iron Duke.


I have mixed feelings about continuing. The problem is that this timeline is very diverged from our own and a bit ridiculous, but I think that there's some potential with it. If people are willing to accept a little bit of 'huh', then we should be fine.

This is originally a piece of writing I made that might be used for a post-apocalyptic Discord RP, and well, I think the setting has enough potential.
 
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