Reincarnated as Napoleon

Chapter 379 Ionian Sea

As the sun began to rise on August 27th, 1821, the Ionian Sea was blanketed in a dense morning mist. Through this haze, a French battleship made its way steadily forward. The massive steel vessel, a stark contrast to the serene sea around it, plowed through the water with a quiet, determined force. The sound of its engines rumbled low, breaking the morning stillness. On deck, the crew moved about their duties with efficiency, their figures occasionally visible through the swirling fog.

This battleship IFNS Ciela Bonaparte, measured over 247 meters in length and 33 meters in beam. The ship's armor belt, thick and robust, was designed to withstand significant punishment, ranging from 330 mm in the central citadel to 150 mm at the bow and stern.

Above the waterline, the main armament consisted of eight 380 mm guns, arranged in two quadruple turrets, one forward and one aft, providing a formidable long-range striking capability. Secondary armament included fifteen 152 mm guns, ensuring a strong defense against both surface and aerial threats.

The propulsion system featured four high-pressure superheated boilers feeding steam to two sets of geared turbines. This setup enabled the ship to reach speeds upwards of 30 knots, an impressive feat for a vessel of its size. The fuel storage was capacious, allowing for extended operations without the need for frequent resupply.

Internally, the battleship was a labyrinth of efficiency and purpose. Crew quarters were compact but functional, designed for the needs of a wartime naval force. The command center, equipped with the latest in navigation and communication technology of the time, was the nerve center of the ship, from where all operations were directed.

On the bridge deck of the battleship Ciela Bonaparte, Captain Maurice-Julien Emeriau peered through his binoculars, scanning the horizon and the surrounding sea. The bridge was a hub of activity, with officers and crew working in unison, their focus unwavering. Dials and gauges lined the panels, each one monitored closely for any changes that could signify potential threats or navigational challenges.

The battleship's radar system, a relatively new addition to naval warfare technology, was in constant operation, sweeping the area for any signs of enemy ships or aircraft. The sonar operator, stationed below in the bowels of the ship, listened intently for the faintest sounds that could indicate submarines lurking beneath the waves.

Communication officers stood ready at their posts, maintaining a steady flow of information between the ship and naval command, as well as coordinating with other vessels nearby. 

It was a lone battleship, lurking at the sea that was clearly out of their area of operation, that's why they were moving in a slow and cautious manner. 

Moments later—.

"Sir, ship detected!" The radar operator announced, raising his hand towards Captain Emeriau. The captain turned sharply, his focus intensifying.

"Distance and bearing?" Captain Emeriau asked, his voice steady but commanding.

"Approximately 20 nautical miles to the northwest, sir. It's moving slowly, possibly a destroyer or cruiser," the radar operator replied, his eyes glued to the screen as he adjusted the dials for a clearer reading.

Captain Emeriau walked over to the radar station, examining the blip on the screen. "Keep an eye on it. Notify me of any course changes. I want constant updates," he ordered, then turned to his executive officer. "Mr. Leclerc, let's not take any chances. Prepare the crew for a potential engagement. I want all hands at battle stations."

"Yes, sir," replied Leclerc, a tall, experienced officer. He briskly moved to carry out the orders.

"Communications, send a message to fleet command. Inform them of our situation and our coordinates. We might need backup," Captain Emeriau continued.

The communication officer nodded, immediately relaying the message.

Captain Emeriau returned to the front of the bridge, picking up his binoculars again. He knew the risks of engaging an enemy ship, especially in these uncertain waters, but the Ciela Bonaparte was not a vessel to shy away from confrontation. He watched the sea intently, waiting for the first visual contact with the unidentified ship.

Below deck, the sound of the general quarters alarm echoed throughout the battleship, sending the crew into a well-rehearsed routine. Gunners readied the main and secondary armaments, engineers boosted the power output of the engines for maneuverability, and the medical team prepared the sick bay for any casualties.

"Ship bearing northwest, closing in," the radar operator called out again.

Captain Emeriau, still peering through his binoculars, finally caught sight of the approaching vessel. It was indeed a cruiser, judging by its size and silhouette. Its flags were not immediately recognizable, adding an element of uncertainty to the situation.

"Signal the ship. Identify yourself and state your intentions," Captain Emeriau instructed the communications officer. The officer quickly sent out the message in both Morse code and via radio, hoping for a response.

Minutes passed with no reply. The unidentified cruiser continued its approach, reducing the distance between the two ships. On the Ciela Bonaparte, the crew tensed, ready for any eventuality.

"Sir, no response. They're still advancing," the communications officer reported.

As the cruiser drew closer, Captain Emeriau scrutinized its features through his binoculars. He noted the distinctive shape of the ship's bow, the arrangement of its guns, and the unique silhouette of its superstructure. His years of experience and knowledge of naval vessels came into play as he observed the details.

"That's a Russian design," he muttered to himself. 

"Mr. Leclerc, take a look," Captain Emeriau said, passing the binoculars to his executive officer. "That cruiser, it's Russian."

Leclerc peered through the binoculars, examining the approaching ship. "Yes, sir, it does have the characteristics of a Russian cruiser. The gun placement and the bridge structure are consistent with their designs."

"But what is a Russian cruiser doing here? Could they be helping the Ottomans?" Leclerc pondered aloud.

Captain Emeriau considered the possibilities. "It's hard to say, the only way we could learn their intentions is through communication. But since they are not responding to our call, we might as well fire a warning shot." 

"Captain, if you do that, they might view it as an attack and would be within their rights to return fire," Leclerc continued, emphasizing the risk of escalation. "We don't want to start a war with the Russians, not when Paris is cautious towards them."

"Well, Leclerc, they are not in Russian waters, they are in Ottoman, and their bearing is coming up towards us. I think we are within our right to notify them that we are on their way. And to reiterate, they are not responding so to alert them, we fire a warning shot. And I don't think the Russians are ready to wage war on us."

Captain Emeriau made his decision. "Fire a warning shot. Aim well clear of their vessel. Make it clear that it's a warning, not an attack."

"Aye aye, captain."

Leclerc relayed the orders to the gunnery team. The crew, well-trained and efficient, quickly prepared one of the secondary 152 mm guns. 

With a loud boom that echoed across the sea, the warning shot was fired, sending a shell splashing into the water a safe distance from the Russian cruiser. The shockwave from the cannon fire alone dispersed some of the lingering mist. The crew on the bridge watched intently for the Russian cruiser's response.

After a tense moment, the Russian cruiser finally responded.

"This is a Russian Cruiser Askold, we apologize for the unresponsiveness earlier. The captain of the ship wants to speak with your captain."

Leclerc looked at Captain Emeriau. 

"What do they want?" Captain Emeriau said. 

"Well, we can ask that question when the two of you meet. Should we accept their request, sir?"

Captain Emeriau thought for a moment. "Yes, arrange the meeting. But we'll do it on our terms. Have them come aboard the Ciela Bonaparte. We'll meet in the conference room."

Leclerc nodded and began to relay the message back to the Russian cruiser Askold.

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