Reincarnated as an Imperial Prince

The Burnyi Class Destroyer carrying the Emperor of the Ruthenia Empire sailed out of the Port of London, leaving the other Destroyer behind with the task of protecting the Aleksandr IV Class Battleship until the Baltic Fleet of the Imperial Ruthenian Navy arrived.

Meanwhile, the Baltic Fleet, consisting of one aircraft carrier, two battlecruisers, six destroyers, and two submarines sailed towards the jurisdiction of the Home Fleet of the Britannia Empire.

They were quite near to it considering that the Baltic Fleet has been conducting maritime exercises at the Danish Strait. Though such an act would have been barred by the Danish government as it is not a form of innocent passage, bureaucracy behind the scenes settled between the two, reaching a deal that let the Baltic Fleet of the Ruthenia Empire sail freely in exchange for signing a contract of acquisition of new warships that will boast the naval defense of the Kingdom of Denmark.

Though such a deal would cause an issue in the future if war were to break out in Europa, the government of the Ruthenia Empire simply shrugged it off due to the fact that they possessed superior aerial and naval technology.

The Admiral of the Baltic Fleet sat comfortably in the captain's chair which gave him a panoramic view of the North Sea that stretched over and beyond the horizon.

They have been monitoring their radars and sonars to search for Britannian ships nearby and even launched a tactical airborne early warning aircraft, the Hawkeye, to scout the wide expanse of the North Sea.

It's only a matter of time before Hawkeye finds Britannian ships from the air. With their advanced radar, they can detect ships and aircraft from over 556 kilometers. It'll be only a walk in the park. However, as amazing as it sounds, there are still interferences that limit the radar capabilities such as the weather. It was foggy. Clouds of mist form in the path of the Hawkeye, forming clusters in their radar, making it hard for the radar operators working inside the Hawkeye to detect ships. Not only that, signals tend to attenuate over a long distance, reducing the range.

"Hawkeye, do you read over? What is your situation over?" a voice sounded in the headset of the combat information center officer who was overlooking the analog panels and monitors.

"Negative Belarussiya, we are having some minor anomalies on our radars but we are fixing it as we speak over."

"The admiral's patience is wearing thin, Hawkeye, they want you to locate at least one Britannian ship as soon as possible."

"Look, you are doing your job and we are doing ours. We'll inform you once the system is fixed."

The combat information center officer turned off his radio in irritation.

"For god sake, why are they hustling us? It's not like we can speed up the process because the Admiral's patience is running out."

"Just let it go, sir, they don't understand how technology works," the pilot of Hawkeye said.

"Oh since you spoke, if you happen to have a visual on any Britannia ship, be it a trawler or whatever, inform me right away…"

"Sir! The radar is fixed and we are receiving blips in the monitor," the radar operator announced gleefully.

"Let me have a look," the combat information center officer leaned forward and scrunched up his brows, looking closely at the monitor.

"Give me the distance and the bearing relative to the current position of the fleet immediately," he ordered.

The radar operator acknowledged the order with a nod.

"Bearing zero-eight-zero, distance 30 nautical miles."

"They were closer than we expected," the combat information center officer remarked. "Well, let's deliver some good news to the fleet."

"I'll patch you up to the frequency of the fleet sir…and it's done."

"Belorussiya, this is Hawkeye, Britannia ship sighted, I repeat Britannian ship sighted operating within the Home Fleet range. Bearing zero-eight-zero distance 30 nautical miles of your position."

"We copy Hawkeye. New orders, Admiral wants you to go and take a closer look, confirm that it is a Britannian warship and not some fishing vessel."

"Now they want us down there, within the range of their anti-aircraft batteries," the combat information center officer mumbled under his breath. Well, orders are orders, he can't disobey them.

"Copy that Belorussiya."

Acknowledging the order, the combat information center officer switched the frequency of his radio to the aircraft and spoke.

"Get us down to three thousand feet and get me some pair of binoculars."

"Copy that sir!" The pilot enthusiastically complied with his orders and began their descent through the layer of white clouds.

They were operating at an altitude of 10,000 feet to maximize the aircraft's radar capabilities.

Moments later, they are now at three thousand feet, enough to have a clear view of the sea below.

The combat information center officer walked over to the oval-shaped window and peered through it with a binocular.

He saw a fleet of warships. As an officer in the Imperial Ruthenian Navy, they had to memorize foreign warships' appearances so that in the field, they could tell it right away.

Using the knowledge he gained while he was at the academy, he can now tell that the ships below belong to the Britannian Empire.

"HMS Nelson, HMS Hood, HMS Queen Elizabeth, HMS Warspite, HMS Cheshire, HMS Illustrious, HMS Glorious, HMS Javelin, HMS Rodney, HMS Belfast, and HMS Sheffield. This is quite an impressive fleet. Five battleships, one heavy cruiser, two aircraft carriers, two light cruisers, and one destroyer. I have never seen five battleships grouped together in a single fleet."

"You're right, sir," the pilot of the Hawkeye agreed. "Should we ascend now? We are within the range of their anti-aircraft batteries and the Britannians don't like unidentified aircraft entering their airspace without permission."

"Belorussiya, we have sighted a Britannian Fleet, awaiting next instructions…"

As the combat information center officer was looking over at the Britannian Fleet, a flicker of light erupted from the portside of the HMS Belfast.

"Shit…!" the combat information center officer cursed as the anti-aircraft rounds from the HMS Belfast whizzed past them.

"Sir, they opened fire!" the pilot reported and started performing evasive maneuvers.

"Ascend to ten thousand feet, now!"

A torrent of shells soars into the air, targeting Hawkeye. The ships that are capable of engaging aircraft open fired as well, narrowing the escape of the hawkeye as it rose to the air.

"Shit shit shit…I knew this is a fucking bad idea," the radar operator nervously exclaimed.

"Get your shit together…you're worsening the situation…"

"Hawkeye, this is Belorussiya, you have your new orders. Establish communication with the Britannian Fleet immediately and state our intention, over."

"Belorussiya, we are being fired upon by Britannian warships!"

"Then all the more reason to contact them immediately, Hawkeye!"

"Okay fine!" the combat information center officer huffed intensely. He commanded one of his men.

"You, connect us to the Royal Navy frequency immediately!" he barked, holding tightly on the railing to avoid falling.

"We are now connected!"

Without hesitation, he began.

"We are an aircraft belonging to the Imperial Ruthenian Navy. We have come in peace, I repeat, we have come in peace. Cease fire! We wish to communicate!"

Moments after saying that, the Britannian warships halted their fire.

"I think they heard us," the pilot said.

"This is Admiral George Callaghan of the Royal Navy Home Fleet, what are you doing in our airspace?"

"We came to talk, Admiral."