The Olympian Sisters #3 The Gilded Age

Chapter 22

NEW YORK MARCH 22 1924 "OLYMPIC"

Backing out of my berth at White Star's Pier 59, I watched 2 smaller vessels racing each other out of the harbor.

Fort St. George and Arcadian were trying to see who could do the Bermuda run the fastest. I couldn't help but laugh. They reminded me of my own quarrels with Mauretania when we were younger.

I turned to Celtic. "Young ones these days, absolutely no responsibility." I grumbled. She laughed. "I see what you mean Olympic, sometimes they remind me of Baltic." She said. "Hey!" Came a voice from nearby. Baltic looked up crossly. "Oh, I didn't notice you were there. You fit in so well with the immaturity around here." She said. A couple of ships around us laughed while others muttered "Oh, burn."

"Humph." Baltic muttered and turned pointedly away.

I was halfway out when it happened. Since Arcadian was on the outside track, she could turn and avoid me easily, but the same could not be said for St. George. She crashed into my stern, nearly turning herself turtle.

Just like with Hawke, I didn't cry out or anything. Sure, it hurt, but I'd had a lot worse damage. St. George backed up, her bow completely mangled. Celtic was staring at me, wide eyed. "You're hurt Olympic." She whispered.

I looked, my stern railing was wrenched and twisted beyond repair. I had several deep cuts that were oozing blood but other than that, I was fine. I shrugged. "It's nothing." I muttered. "Doesn't look like nothing to me." She snapped.

St. George was circling around me. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry!" She wailed. "It's ok." I assured her but she just kept on repeating that over and over. Eventually I'd had enough. "Will you stop saying that? Its fine St. George, don't worry about it." She looked incredulous. "FINE, I HIT YOU!" She yowled. I smiled. "I've been hit before, by ships much larger than you." I said.

Captain J. B. Howarth had me sounded and although I had several plates severely dented, none were breached. "You are one lucky ship, Olympic." He said. "That's just what Bertie said when I sank that submarine." I remembered.

He shrugged. "I don't care what anybody else says, you are lucky!" He said. I nodded, although I didn't really believe in the thing sailors called luck. I was not superstitious like they were.

My thoughts were interrupted by a yowl from nearby. It was Arizona and boy did she look mad. No that's not right, she was beyond mad, she was furious. Her gray eyes blazed like a storm and she would've been shooting lightning bolts out of them if she could.

"Olympic, are you alright?" She asked. I nodded. "I've had worse." I replied, remembering Hawke. She turned to St. George, the little liner looked terrified. "No Bermuda runs for you." Arizona growled. St. George bowed her head. "Arizona, I don't think that's necessary." I called.

St. George looked up at me. "It's what I deserve Olympic. I did something bad and I must be punished for it." She said sadly. "How long?" I asked Arizona. "That she's off Bermuda? About a year, maybe two. It depends on her attitude." She replied. "I'll be good." St. George promised.

"We'll see how you behave." Arizona said. "But right now, you should see about getting that bow fixed." I cut in. Arizona glared at me as if to say "That's my job." I glared right back.

One of a naval ship's jobs is to handle the legal issues of maritime law. They were the lawyers of the high seas. True, I shouldn't have intervened since Arizona was handling it but I was naval too. Dreadnought had made me the leader of the Royal Navy. It was my job to uphold international maritime law.

St. George could see a power struggle building and raced off to the navy yard for repairs. As soon as she was out of earshot, Arizona turned on me. "What the bloody hell were you thinking?" She snapped. "I had every right to intervene." I retorted.