The tactical realignment of the Northern Imperial Fleet did not begin with a flagship signal flare or the frantic clatter of wireless telegraph relays along the eastern docks. It manifested as a sudden, heavy silence across the shallow sandbars of the delta mouth as the twelve-inch naval rifles of the Vanguard-Sovereign swung away from the shattered face of the Grand Registry building. The long, black iron barrels did not lock onto the defenseless southern timber wharves; they depressed four degrees, tracking a slow, mechanical arc until they were pointed directly into the unarmored amidships of the sister dreadnought idling less than two cable-lengths behind her.
Across the harbor slips, the independent merchant captains did not hoist their sails to escape. They stood frozen on their decks, axes still raised over their hemp mooring lines, watching the lead warships of the Hegemony turn their massive, iron-crested hulls into a tight, defensive knot against each other.
