Onto Old Glory: An Imperial Timeline

5th of January, 1962

23:45 Hours

London, Westminister

10 Downing Street

It was an utter nightmare. An absolute and unparalleled nightmare.

It was an even greater nighmare than fighting 20 different princedoms in the Indian Subcontinent 30 years for Winston Churcill.

He had been elected in 1955, after Sir Anthony Eden resigned due to health complications. God bless that man's heart as he got the British Empire through the perilous storm that was the Second Great War, and, when the Imperial Civil War occured, managed to secure the treasonous United American Commonwealth back under Britannia's control. That man might have remained in cabinet longer if he had been augmentated.

Winston Churcill had taken the augmentation procedures back in 1933, and had gained popularity when he brought the entire Indian continent under British rule. It was a mess but he did it. Winston had used his immense popularity to get favors within the Haig faction of the Tories, especially since Eden had brought progressive policies to Britain which had made him popular amongst the unions and the Tories reformist faction. An economic boom occured in 1957, and it seemed that Winston would have an easy ministry and an easy term.

Unfortunately, it seemed Fate had other plans. After the Second Great War, it seemed that the Russians were not going to be united ever again, especially with the warlord conflicts that occured, besides the British Mandates of Moscow and Tsaritsyn, and the German Mandate of Saint Petersburg, as the United Kingdoms of Germany finally united all of Germany after bringing the Independant State of Prussia into the fold. On November 9th, 1960, Russia was reunited under the "Transcendant Empire of Holy Russia" which took theocracy and cranked it up by the thousand with their "God Engine" which they claimed had a direct communication line to God Himself.

His coughing interrupted his thoughts as he grabbed a cloth and wiped the spit off of his mouth. He inhaled, and exhaled. These prosthetic lungs were certainly better than his old ones that he had destroyed with his smoking, but his throat wasn't replaced.

He sighed as he looked at a report from the Ministry of Defence. They were getting pushed back, as the Russians have entered Warsaw and were using nuclear artilery at an accelerated rate. And they were showing no mercy as gas warefare was being used all across the Eastern Front to the point where only the Automoton and the Heavy Infantry Divisons could not be deployed without immediately dying. And the British Army was running out of tripods automats due to excessive usage of nukes being fired from the barrel of artilery.

Most of all, Winston Churchill was tired. He was tired of everything. He was tired of this god-forsaken war, he was tired of everyone panicing in his cabinet, he was tired of it all. He placed a strong face for the public, and his iconic 'V' for victory sign that he did, but behind closed doors, Churcill was a man that just wanted to sleep. God, how long had it been since he had slept?

He leaned back against the chair, closing his eyes and taking the brief moment to go back to times when he was a simple Governor-General of the British Administration in Bengal and Burma. Despite the heat, he would enjoy the trees and the countryside. He enjoyed painting the trees and the beaches while discussing diplomacy with the Indian princes, either talking them into joining the British Empire by gaining their support via filling their pockets with richies or simply showing that the Empire would crush them just as easily as one would crush a fly with a fly swatter. Annoying for a moment, but inveitably killed. The riches he sent back to the home island made him popular, maybe even rivaling the explorer Christopher Colombus. While the Second Great War was occuring, Churcill used the situation to rapidly conquer the rest of the Indian subcontinet, adding another jewel to the Crown while the United American Commonwealth alongside with the Commonwealth of Borealia (which is Canada) expanded westward, eventually bringing the whole of the North America under Imperial rule.

After this, in 1945, the man was invited by Eden to become Foreign Secretary, a position which he accepted. After some political swaying, and Prime Minister Eden's health deteorating, Churcill was approched by the Haig Tories, which was the faction which supported Prime Minister Douglas Haig until his heart attack, and untimely demise, in 1933 at the beginning of the Automation Crisis when the EIEC essentially mechanized their production lines and automated it, firing every factory worker and jumpstarting an unemployment crisis. They also did this with the mining workers in the UAC. It was an economic crisis not seen before the 1925 London Stock Market Crash. He, being a firm believer in Victorianism and the greatness of the British Empire, accepted the backing and found himself nominated, before Eden offered Her Majesty his resignation letter. The rest, as they say, is history.

A knocking on the door was heard, as Churchill snapped his eyes open, and turned his head. A bureaucrat was standing there as he was holding a file from the Ministry of Defence.
"Report from the Defence Ministry, Prime Minister. "

Churchill adjusted himself instantly. "Hand it over, then." he says as he extends his hand. The bureaucrat does so.

As soon as the Prime Minister opened that file, his eye widened as he stared at the content. A machine capable of bending reality itself? How was this possible? His eyes widened further as he looked at Operation Glorious Showdown.
The madmen at the Ministry of Defence, and the lunatics of the Edison Imperial Eletric Company, wished to leave this reality to another one. By the reports, it seemed legitimate. Insane, yes, but legitimate.

The prime minister closed the file, grabbed his cane and began to stumble out of the room. "Prepare a transport for Buckingham Palace immediately!" he shouted.

He needed to get to the Queen fast before those intercontinental balistic missiles were dropped.

01:05 Hours

Buckingham Palace

Indifference.

That was what Her Royal Majesty, Victoria, felt at the moment. What else could she feel other than indifference? She had seen her children die, her grandchildren, and even outlived Prince George V, and Prince George VI. She didn't see her grandson, Prince Edward VIII, for 20 years, having shipped him off to the UAC to act as Governor-General, albiet he was being recalled back to the home island. She didn't care how many died anymore. She knew that all of her children and grandchildren would never bear the crown for as long as she lived. She felt so many things, she didn't care anymore about anyone! She didn't...

As one could imagine, the Queen is depressed. Her immortality, a miracle back then, was now a curse as she outlived all of her children and grandchildren one by one. She lived in a gilded cage, the Crown forcing her to be the indifferent one she is.
She looked out the window, watching as the Hardsuit infantry stationed to guard the Palace walked heavily, their heavy footsteps making a loud, dumping nose, visible from even the glass windows of the Palace, holding their shellguns, accompanied by tripods and quatropods and, of course, the Grenadier Guards.

She grabbed a cup of tear as she sipped it. She was waiting for the damned Russians to dump one of their nukes onto London and put her out of her misery. She should have listened to her husband, and refused the treatment back all those years ago. What made her condem herself to such a fate, she had no idea. Fear of death? Fear of the unkown? She didn't know. And she didn't care anymore. It was in the past.

The gates of Buckingham Palace opened as a convoy entered the palace. Afterwards, a butler came over as he clicked his heels and bowed his head before looking at the Queen. "Your Majesty, the Prime Minister has requested to see you for an early audience. "

Victoria sighed, finishing her cup before getting up. She dusted off her long dress, before she crossed her hands, firmly placed on the stomach area. "Very well." she said as she walked out of the room.

What does the Prime Minister wish to discuss with her now?

1:15 Hours

Audience Room

As soon as the Queen entered the audience room, Winston Churcill smiled at her Majesty, before he grabbed her extended hand and kissed it. "Your Majesty."

"Prime Minister." repeated Victoria as she lowered her arm, and brought her hand back to the other hand. She then gracefully sat down on the chair, as she let her hands on her dress, approximately on her right leg. "You wished to see me?"

"Indeed, Majesty. There's been a.." Winston cleared his throat, unsure how to explain this. "..development made by the EIEC and the Ministry of Defence."

Victoria stared at Churcill, stone-faced. What have those madmen in busniess suits done now? "A development?" she asked her interest.

"Yes, the engineers at the Company have been experimenting on reality itself. I am not sure how to really explain this. " he says as before he extends the dossier. "This should explain things, I do suppose."

She extended her arm, as she grabbed the file and looked into it. There were times that she allowed unpolished thoughts into her head at moments of extraordinary circumstances. This was one of these times. What the bloody hell? She immediately raised her head to the Prime Minister, her stone-face raising an eyebrow.

"That was my reaction too." commented the Prime Minister, knowing full well that this would be one of the only times he would see the monarch break her stone faced demenour.

"Has this been verified?" asked the Queen as she flipped through the pages.

"I have spoken with EIEC representatives on the telephone and they have verified the information, yes." was the answer she got. "Your Majesty, may I speak freely?"

Victoria raised her head to face the standing Churchill, holding his cane. She nodded, looking at him directly in the eye.

"As the document says, Majesty, the Russians have been extensively using nuclear artilery, and there are reports of them beginning to use the M.A.D launchers. Our allies are also crumbling before our very eyes, Majesty. If we are to save what is left of mankind, we are to use these machines. The EIEC has already said that if Operation Glorious Showdown occurs, they will also give this technology to our allies for them to also join us in the other world. If we are to save Britannia and, indeed, mankind as a whole, we must activate these machines!" He clamped his mouth shut, as he nervously moved his other hand on the crane, realizing he spoke too loudly before the Queen.

Victoria, however, did not care much for the Prime Minister's loud tone. She sighed as she looked down at the paper once again. After a few percious minutes further of internal deliberation, she looked up at the Prime Minister, the same indifferent face. She nodded before she gave the order that would forever change the course of history, and, indeed, all of mankind. "Do as you will, Prime Minister. "