Tyranny of Steel

Several days had passed since the time Berengar informed Honoria about his origins. After such a shocking revelation, she had needed some space to process the information and had spent the last few days within isolation on her ship. She had deliberately asked Berengar to stay onboard another vessel while she worked through her thoughts.

Thus, at the moment Honoria had a bottle of rum in her hands as she lied back on her mattress. She had a downcast expression as she combed the vacant spot next to her. Normally, Berengar would be lying next to her, playing with her hair and whispering sweet nothings to her. However, such a thing was not the case, and she realized that she only had herself to blame. 

The Byzantine Princess was certain that she had messed up by asking her husband about the origin of his boundless knowledge, and all his honesty had done was complicate things between them. However, as time flew by, and the alcohol affected her mind, she realized she was over-reacting. Fundamentally, Berengar was correct when he had said that he was the same man she had always known and loved. 

It was with this in mind that she dragged her intoxicated ass off her bed and wobbled to her door, ready to publically proclaim her apology over the telegram. Such a thing would not only be a breach of protocol, but was just a bad idea in general.

However, she was determined to make amends, and thus she grabbed hold of the doorknob and twisted it open.  The first thing that Honoria witnessed was the shocked appearance of her first mate. Malissa gazed upon her intoxicated captain with a disproving expression.

"Honoria, with all due respect, you look terrible. I would ask you what's wrong, but we have greater matters to worry about. Why don't you get some rest, and I will take charge for now?"

This notion confused Honoria, and she immediately tried to ask about what was transpiring.

"What.... what is... what's wrong?"

The fact that the woman was slurring her words proved she was in no condition to assume command, and thus Malissa sighed heavily before grabbing hold of Honoria and leading her back to her bed. 

"Nothing to worry about. I'll handle it. Just focus on feeling better..."

After saying this, the woman grabbed hold of Honoria's liquor bottle and yanked it away from her grasp. The Byzantine Princess struggled to regain control of her precious rum, but Malissa was sober and could easily dodge Honoria's drunken attempts. 

After a while Honoria gave up and collapsed into a state of unconsciousness. Malissa made sure the girl was face down in case she vomited before departing from the room. The moment the door was shut behind her, she sighed before voicing her thoughts on the matter.

"Trouble in paradise, huh? I'll have to give that asshole a piece of my mind when I next see him!"

After saying this, she took a swig from the bottle of rum to calm her nerves before ascending to the helm where several of the crew members lie in wait. When they noticed their captain was not in tow, they looked at their first mate with a curious gaze.

"Where's Honoria?

Malissa merely shook her head before stating her honest opinion.

"Too drunk to do anything, I guess I'm in command. Tell me what's going on?"

In response to this, the girls looked at each other before reporting to Malissa what a crew member had spotted. 

"There appears to be a fleet flying the flag of the Knight's Hospitaller. Though it's strange, some of the ships are neither caravels nor carracks..."

When Malissa heard this, her brow raised as she asked for more information.

"What exactly are we dealing with?"

The girls looked at one another with gazes filled with confusion before shrugging their shoulders and reporting their honest opinion.

"I honestly don't even know how to describe it. You can look for yourself..."

Malissa merely sighed before grabbing hold of a pair of binoculars and walking up the stairs to the top deck. When she arrived, she noticed that a relatively fierce storm was taking place within the Mediterranean and it immediately barraged her with a combination of wind and rain. Despite this, the first mate quickly looked through her binoculars and gazed upon the crusaders' ships.

There were several dozen of them, and they appeared to be mostly the old carracks, caravels, and galleys, most likely repurposed from the remains of the Iberian, Venetian, and Genoan fleets. However, at the forefront of the armada were much larger vessels.

If Malissa had to describe their appearance, she would probably do so by saying these ships looked as if somebody had taken the sail plan off of a Berengar-Class Frigate, and plastered it onto an extended carrack. These extended carracks also had gun bays where thirty bronze cannons were stashed away on the broadside. 

This fleet posed no threat to the German Navy, nor even a single Armored Frigate. However, they were a fearsome representation of the innovation that was going on in the Catholic world as they desperately tried to catch up to the German Empire.  It was at this moment that Malissa climbed back down into the helm and issued an order to her telegram operator. 

"Inform the SMS Berengar of what we have spotted, and ask for further orders..."

The girl quickly nodded her head and sent the message to the SMS Berengar, which was the flagship of the Fleet. Onboard said vessel, Berengar was relaxing in his personal quarters when he suddenly received a knock on the door. He quickly walked over and opened it to see his Grand Admiral staring at him with a report in his hands. The man said nothing and simply handed it to his emperor, waiting for a response.

Berengar gazed over the report and a smile formed on his face. It would appear that the first wave of crusaders had begun their invasion of the Holy Land. In response to this, Berengar handed the paper back to the Grand Admiral and said one simple phrase.

"Do nothing... Let's see how they react to our presence."

After saying this, Berengar climbed to the top deck, and stood in the middle of the pouring rain, gazing off the starboard side towards the Hospitaller fleet. As the ships neared each other, it became dreadfully apparent of the different eras the German Empire and its enemies were in.

Steam engines powered Berengar's mighty fleet and his vessels were armored with steel while the crusaders were still on wooden sailing ships that were dwarfed in comparison by the frigates of the German Fleet. 

The maritime flag of the German Empire flew proudly in the raging winds as Berengar smiled and stared at the Hospitaller fleets, who simply passed him by with shocked expressions on their faces. One crusader in particular reached for his arkebuse, but was halted by his commander.

The last thing the Hospitaller Order needed were these steel behemoths raining their guns down upon them. Thus, the two fleets silently passed each other by, one heading west to the new world, and another heading east to the Holy Land. 

It was only after Berengar's ship was no longer visible to the Hospitaller fleet they sighed in relief. Meanwhile, the German Emperor himself smiled as he descended back down into the lower decks, satisfied with the results of his plans.

The Catholic World would send their full might to reclaim the holy land, and fight a war against the combined power of the Byzantine and Timurid Empires, from Berengar's perspective the likelihood of a papal victory was slim, but the damage it would cause to the Timurid Empire would keep the two factions in check. 

Either way, things were progressing smoothly, for now Berengar did not care about the war for the Holy Land, if something unexpected happened he would be notified by Telegram, and could respond in kind, giving orders at a moment's notice on how to respond.

What was more important was the vast wealth he would get with his conquest of the meso-America. How he would manage to do such a thing with so few forces, that was something that the history of his past life had already taught him.