[Vexatious~Venom]

This story needs a title so badly, sadly I have ran out of what little inspiration I had. Also, any tips or changes that could make it better please say. I think the ending could use a little work. D:

...

There she was. The proverbial mistress that had entered his dreams on many an occasion, and my, what a mistress she was. The Titanic. Ready to go on her maiden voyage. Edward had been looking forward to this day for quite some time now. Finally, it was here.

He left early that morning, saying a goodbye to his wife, Eleanor, whom he would see again after the ship had completed her voyage. This was nothing new to the couple. As Edward had earned the rank of Master he often was chosen to Captain vessels, and that in turn would often drag him away from his wife and his daughter. Minor hardships in his mind.

With a liner as luxurious and as well built as the Titanic he felt privileged that he was chosen to Captain it. He got on the ship early on the 10th of April to get himself accustomed to the layout and to the main controls of the ship. Noon approached all too fast and the ceremonious breaking of the bottle commenced just before they set off from Southampton.

The slight worry of the bottle not smashing was soon forgotten when the liner was out in open water, and Edward was in his element, behind the wheel of this magnificent ship was the highlight of his career, and he felt as if all his Christmases had come at once. Mingling with the passengers and getting to know his crew mates made it the days pass quickly, but the true reward was the acclimation of being associated with a vessel of this magnitude.

It was the fourth day of the voyage, when Edward left one of his senior officers in charge of the course alignment of the ship. He was going to do a bit more of the socialization. Just as he left the control cabin he saw a rather portly gentleman with thinning hair and dressed in a very fitting black suit.

“I'm sorry, Sir, but passengers are not permitted to be in this area. Allow me to escort you back to the ballroom,” he said gently.

“My,” the man said simply. “Edward, time has certainly flown. The last time I checked in on you the peaks of your head were not quite so white. But you are looking well.”

Edward was slightly taken aback by the bizarreness of this man's comment. As far as he was aware he had never seen this man before. He assumed that the man had been on one of the ships he captained before so he did not make an issue of it. Smiling he bowed his head.

“Ah yes,” Edward said simply. “Time has indeed flown past, this is my final voyage before retirement.”

“Is that why you have all four boilers lit?” The man said. “Is that why you have been neglecting your duties so you can socialize with the prominent members of the ship? Is that why you have neglected to get a replacement pair of binoculars for the men in the look out tower? Is that why you have been ignoring the weather warnings?”

Edward stared at the man, not appreciating his tone in the slightest. Also some of the information that the man knew was not told to the public. One of the crew members must have been telling more than was needed to the public. How he knew about the messages passing vessels sent to them and how he knew about the missing binoculars was beyond him.

“Sir,” Edward began sternly. “I think it best you get back to the ballroom.”

The man however, did not back down. He straightened his back and corrected his posture. His eyes met Edward's and for a second neither of the men spoke.

“I thought more of you Edward. I thought you were more for the ship than for the glory. If I were you, I would get back to the captain's deck immediately. Change your course Edward, change your course. Otherwise,” the man paused for a minute. “The ship won't make it to New York.”

Edward stared at the man. Was the man threatening him? Edward felt uneasy about this, about how much the man seemed to know about the ship and about Edward. He tried to dodge past him and walk to the ballroom, but somehow the man got in front of him, blocking the way.

“Edward, I am not joking.” The man said gravely. “Get back to the deck, you need to make a hard turn port. Trust me.”

Edward sensed that he was not going to get rid of this man. He sighed and turned on his heel. He beckoned for the man to follow him and went back to where the controls for the ship were. First Officer Murdoch was standing by the wheel, looking right. He turned his head when Edward and the man entered.

“Captain,” Murdoch said and saluted him. He said nothing of the man's presence, which Edward found rather odd, but decided not to comment.

“Have you heard from Fleet or Lee yet?” The Captain said.

“No, Sir. Nothing.”

Just as Murdoch said that the bell rang three times. Edward's heart sank. The phone to the deck started to ring. Edward ran towards it, just as he grabbed it he could hear the man barking instructions, which Murdoch didn't seem to follow.

“Murdoch!” Edward shouted. “Hard a'port!”

As Murdoch began turning the wheel and working the tiller Edward took the call.

“Is there anybody there!?” an urgent Fleet said.

“Aye. What do you see?” replied the Captain.

“Iceberg, right ahead!”

All the colour left Edward's cheeks. He put the receiver down. Quickly he alerted the other members of the crew that were down in the boiler room. The man was standing watching as Murdoch worked the tiller and the wheel.

“Get him to port around,” the man suggested to Edward.

“Murdoch! Port around!” Edward shouted.

“Aye Sir!”

The Titanic was moving ever closer to the iceberg, the top speed of 20.5 noughts no longer seemed such a good idea. As Murdoch, Edward and the rest of the crew worked to try and move the ship away from the iceberg the man stood there, watching. He said things that only Edward seemed to listen to.

“Keep on going, you're almost there,” the man said. “You have roughly fifteen seconds before the hull is punctured.”

“These rivets are of highest quality! Mr Andrews made it that way! This ship can't flounder!” Edward shouted. “Modern shipbuilding has surpassed this now, Titanic is unsinkable!”

“Aye Captain, but she is made of iron, it is possible sir!” Murdoch replied.

“Murdoch, I wasn't speaking to you!”


Murdoch, although was confused at the Captain's words continued to work the tiller. There was another call. The ship's sixth officer, James Moody, was nearest so he picked up. Edward was working the wheel when he heard a whoop from behind. The man was smiling and Moody was positively beaming.

“Aye. Aye Fleet. I'll alert him.” With that Moody put down the receiver and shouted loudly. “Captain! We didn't hit! We missed the iceberg!”

Murdoch and Edward joined in the jubilation for the rest of the crew, but Edward was still not content. On the pretext of writing this up he left the room, beckoning for the man to follow him yet again.

Edward led the way back to his quarters and sat down at his desk, the man remained standing just behind him. In the log book Edward wrote the date and the time, the near disaster and marking every crew member who was an asset in helping them.

“Sir, how did you know there was an iceberg ahead? Our lookouts couldn't even see.”

“That, Edward, was because you never gave them the correct tools. You, Ismay and Andrews are all a disgrace. You have redeemed yourself slightly, but by wanting to marvel at speed you ignored basic safety procedures, putting the lives of every man woman and child on this ship. You should be mighty glad this is your final voyage, you my friend are not at your best.”

Edward didn't argue with the man, for he knew that the man was correct. He didn't agree that all boilers should be lit. He wanted to slow down after receiving one weather warning rather than seven. Though he let years of experience slide just for Mr Ismay to get the headlines and publicity that the White Star Line so obviously wanted.

“Sir,” Edward said. “Thank you. I have no idea what I can do to let you know how greatly I appreciate this. I must have your name, for purposes of the log. I imagine that Murdoch and yourself shall find a handsome reward when we reach New York.”

“Edward, I'm surprised you don't recognize me,” the man said, chuckling slightly. “Does the name 'Edward Smith' mean anything to you?”

And with that, the man was gone.

Titanic arrived in New York on the 15th of April 1912, just as expected. As the Captain and crew got off the ship there was a media flurry as news of the Titanic's near disaster had reached the mainland. Edward was happy enough to talk to the press.

“Captain Smith, how did you react so quickly to the iceberg?” a reporter asked.

“Well...” Edward began. “I had a little help from my father.”

[Vexatious~Venom]

Reserved For Future Writing

[Vexatious~Venom]

Reserved For Future Writing.