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Region: The Celestial Empire

The Queen of the Water - Dreams of Those Gone Past III
June 1911 - Clifford & Voss™ Drydock

The funnel was lifted into place by the towering crane. Men, without any safety harnesses or other equipment then guided it into its brackets covering the extraction vents. Getting to this stage was tedious. Fitting out began with the engine room being fitted out with boilers larger than rooms, steam engines as large as buildings and propeller shafts as long as blimps had to be carefully assembled and manoeuvred into place.

The scale of the vessel meant Clifford & Voss™ had to scale everything with it. Namely the McAllister Gantry, whose towering form could still be seen from the other side of the lochs where the dry dock sat. Bruce turned as a large flatbed, pulled by a large, meaty steam engine, was backed into the lift zone.

Workers swarmed around the final funnell as they prepared it to be lifted by the crane. In the water, several tugboats towing large platforms containing an assortment of the final machinery to go into the mighty steel hull. However, very soon it would begin the most difficult and even more tedious.

Bruce turned and returned to the main planning room of Clifford & Voss. A few hours ago it was teaming with draughtsmen and engineers figuring out how to install the myriad of amenities, such as plumbing, electricity and wireless communique as well as the endless amount of befitting luxuries endowed upon first and even second class rooms, and whatever leftovers shoved into third.

The carpenter had delivered the 1000 different styles and elegant carvings that would be slowly handcrafted into each slab of wood before they went in. He traced his finger over the various fittings for each of the decks. Everything had to be considered, special storage for food in the kitchens, casings for machinery such as exhaust fans, direction of staircases, toilets, even the placings of individual door hinges were listed on the plans.

The doors swung open and Al Harrison entered. “Bruce, how are the fittings coming along?” Bruce smiled as his friend entered and beckoned him over. “We plan to do sea trials by the end of the year, and have it delivered the next month. We fell behind on schedule, Al, as you can understand Clifford has never taken on such a mammoth project.”

Al nodded in agreement. “Delays are to be expected, you can’t rush fine craftsmanship.” He said as he too, leaned over the endless blueprints.

Bruce placed two fingers, one from each hand onto the grand staircases, one towards the bow, and one towards the stern. “We’ve changed the staircases, to make room for the boiler casings and the pantries. On the plus side it does cut costs. Only one of the staircases will be as grand as they were in your drawings, the aft staircase will be slightly smaller.”

Al nodded, “The staircases aren’t the only factor contributing to luxury.”

Bruce rubbed his face. “Al, you know this… Idea of making passengers believe they are in the finest hotels, rather than an ocean liner in the middle of the Ossarian sea, is causing us quite the headache.”

“But that hasn’t stopped you, has it? I’ve seen your plans, creative solutions, even more crafty ideas. This ship will sail Bruce, one day. May it take years.” Al said.

Bruce turned around and looked out of the window at the towering mass that was the KMS Imperial Glory. Her final funnel had been placed in. A different procedure was used, as the funnell wasn’t directly connected to the boilers and engines, but rather a dummy funnel, which contributed to symmetry and reduced the need for vents and fans that cluttered the decks of other ocean liners.

“How is hull number 401 coming along?” Al asked as he turned to face the other side of the loch, where the towering gantry was filled with the hulking mass of Imperial Glory’s sister ship. “We plan to launch and tow her tomorrow, she’ll be drydocked and completed, based on lessons learnt from the Imperial Glory, she should be ready for sea trials by May next year, and her maiden voyage to be made in April.

15th January 1912

The large, four-funnelled liner pulled into Port Zimford. Thousands had arrived to sail on the vessel’s maiden voyage, even more had arrived to watch the ship set sail. Father’s hoisted children on their shoulders, as the vessel pulled in and docked. Lines were cast and several tug boats had to be used to push her into position. Her crew, perhaps more giddy than the passengers, made preparations for passengers to begin boarding. Stewards prepared rooms with blankets, crew readied the decks and cleared them of clutter, her senior officers watching over.

The captain and his first officer watched the scene as the gangplanks were thrown out. Police were brought in to control the crowd and formed a line to prevent passengers from swarming the gangplanks. Other vessels in the harbour that day stopped, their crew and passengers admiring the towering liner that loomed over them, blocking the sun, yet slicing through the water with grace.

The first class reception room on D deck was filled with stewards and crewmen, ready to receive the Empire’s finest. Below, 3rd class stewards made preparations to receive their bunch. “Watch her over Murdoch.” The captain said, as he Treadied himself to greet passengers.

Al Harrison, with his wife and kids already on board, waited in their first class room. He considered booking one of the suites with a private promenade deck but resented the open windows that brought the cold sea breeze in. His wife was packing away her multiple dresses and other ornaments for the voyage. Their children, Mary and Richard lay on the beds in the suite, shaking their legs, also dressed in formal attire. “I’ll go up to meet with the crew, you guys can relax for now.”

Al walked out of their stateroom and into the extravagant hallways. Kaitlyn followed out and closed the door behind her. “Wait, Al.” Al turned to face her. She looked beautiful in her gown.

“When are you relaxing?” She asked.

“When this vessel completes her maiden voyage.”

Kaitlyn softly smiled and hugged him before pecking him lightly on the cheek. Al admired her beauty again, over 30 years of marriage and she looked as elegant as the day he met her. “You know, I can’t have imagined a better woman to have stood beside me, throughout all of this.”

Kaitlyn smiled her soft, brilliant smile again. “It would be very concerning if you did.”

Al too, smiled before she returned to her stateroom. Al arrived at the main Grand Staircase. A big letter behind him indicated he was on B deck. He ascended up the stairs expecting to get to A deck, and later the boat deck. Which he did, but found that he could not access the officer’s promenade and quarters where the bridge lay.

He thought to himself before spying two officers on the forecastle. He descended down the decks and clambered over the railing to get to the forecastle. “Harry, Harry!” Al called out. Henry “Harry” Wilde turned from his position at the forecastle operating the anchoring crane. “Sir, can I help you?”

“Yes good man, how can I get to the officer’s quarters?”

Henry then listed off a series of orders that Al barely understood before returning to his task at the anchor crane. Al then spent the next few minutes bumbling around the forecastle and boat deck before using a Master Key Bruce had given him to work his way through several galleys before emerging in the officer’s quarters.

Al then worked his way to the navigating bridge where First Officer William Murdoch was waiting on the wings. “Harrison, are you not joining the other passengers?” He asked.

“No thank you William, I would rather be here to watch her leave port.”

From the shore, Bruce watched as the ship drew away from the harbour. People waved handkerchiefs from the pier as the decks of the liner were packed with people waving back. The early morning sun rose higher in the sky casting a warm glow on the vessel, her name, imprinted in reflective metal on her bow shone back at the crowd. KMS Imperial Glory

Bruce then made the two hour train ride back to Heartstone. Even before he entered the city, the towering McAllister gantry rose from the skyline like a skyscraper. The train passed the end of the lochs, where in drydock, was the second of the class of four-stackers Al and Arnold had planned.

Bruce would remain in his office for the rest of the day as he planned out the remainder of the fittings for the nearly complete super liner, due to set sail in April. When he emerged he watched the sunset behind the vessel, silhouetting it against a sinister blood-red sky.

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