On the bridge, Admiral Vance gripped the brass railing. Ahead, through a curtain of North Sea fog, a silhouette emerged—the U.P. 5 , a revolutionary battleship the intelligence reports called "The Steel Ghost." It was a monstrosity of modern engineering, its decks bristling with triple-gun turrets that looked too heavy for any hull to carry. "Range, 15,000 yards!" the spotter cried.
The British broadside let out a guttural roar. Through his binoculars, Vance watched the tracers arch across the sky. He saw three direct hits on the U.P. 5 ’s midships. Any other vessel would have folded, but the Steel Ghost simply sailed on, its dark hull barely scorched. UP_5.part2.rar
"Signal the 5th Flotilla," Vance whispered. "Tell them to find the Ghost's heart." On the bridge, Admiral Vance gripped the brass railing
The battle for the seas had only just begun, and the legend of the U.P. 5 was already being written in blood and coal dust. "Range, 15,000 yards
The humidity in the boiler room of the HMS Iron Duke was enough to wilt a man’s spirit, but Petty Officer Miller didn’t have time to sweat. The telegraph clicked with a frantic rhythm:
"Begin the turn," Vance ordered, his voice steady. "We cannot cross her 'T' if we're sailing into her teeth."
In the belly of the ship, Miller heard the groan of twisting metal. He knew they were outmatched in iron, but they had the wind. "More pressure!" he screamed at the stokers. "If we don't outrun her, she'll bury us!"