AN: This was an old idea I a while back when I was updating Z for Zulu regularly (it's still ongoing, I just haven't had time to satisfactorily write out all my thoughts + address some issues/concerns brought up on my reread), but never had time to publish. Against All Odds will be a short story, though I can't guarantee how regularly it will be updated since it's hard trying to verify as many things as possible (I hope the entire story will capture the spirit of the moment though-it's definitely one of Korea's finest hours).
As a side note, as far as I can tell Joseon Korea did not name their ships in this era; for that reason I have given characters nicknames based upon their historical officers when possible to make it easier to tell ship spirits apart.
Prologue: Guilt
"I can still hear them screaming."
There were no accurate words to describe the endless writhing sensation in her stomach. The evening was warm to the touch, yet she still couldn't stop shivering. A few days ago she felt powerful enough to take on heaven and hell at once, but now…
"Why me," another ship spirit whimpered behind her. "Why am I still alive?"
No one answered. Only the solemn, steady sound of rowers pulling and releasing to the beat provided any solace to the distraught ten. Not even their squadron leader, a normally sharp and bright-eyed woman whom they jokingly called 'Seol' (after their human commander), uttered even a word in comfort.
At last, someone broke the silence.
"Seol…" The voice was halting, trembling to even utter that simple syllable. Seol refused to even cock her head slightly in acknowledgement.
"Tell me…"
"Tell me why…"
"WHY DID YOU MAKE US RUN?"
Seol continued to remain silent.
"WE SHOULD HAVE DIED THERE! ALL AROUND US, OUR PEOPLE AND SISTERS WERE BEING SLAUGHTERED LIKE ANIMALS, BEGGING FOR HELP, AND YOU…and you…" the voice broke down into muffled sobs. Her heart sank as her exhausted, empty mind finally registered the owner of such an outburst. It was Jindo, a spirit nicknamed after the island in Jeolla Province. Like the province, Jindo was resilient and resolute.
And like the province, she was one of a handful of Joseon survivors.
After what seemed like hours Seol finally spoke.
"The battle was done," she said softly, not once looking back. "What else could we do? It was either face certain death at the hands of those…pirates…or ensure that there were survivors."
"Is that so?" a new voice growled. "Is that why we left behind Eokgi and Chu to their fate, even as they were crying and begging for us to wait up? Was it to ensure survivors? Commander…answer me. You owe us nine that at the very least."
"…Ten is better than none."
"I can't believe it. I can't believe it!" the voice went shrill. "All this time I thought you were someone admirable, a ship worthy of being a commander's flagship, when all this time you were a damn COWARD!"
"We all are."
She wilted as nine pairs of eyes immediately fell on her, Seol's included.
"With all my heart, commander, I want to hate you. You shield your desire to live beneath the flowery excuses of strategy. But I know that the fact that I am still here, not at the bottom of the ocean like our brethren, is entirely my doing. Commander Bae Seol had no power to control whether I complied with his orders, and I know deep down inside that my crew would have fought to the last."
"Not that it would have made any difference," another spirit shivered. "How many sailors did we take with us?"
Seol began pointing amongst her crew but promptly stopped, her face downcast. "A few dozen, maybe a hundred even. Between the dead and dying, though…that's nothing. The Navy is gone."
"No, not gone…It's here." Everyone jumped as a quiet, sad voice reverberated through the dense evening fog. There was a steady, rhythmic pattering of a single-set of oars, which so alarmed the distraught survivors that some seamen hastily reached for their weapons.
"Who goes there?" Seol demanded, instinctively shadowing her cannons in the noise's direction.
The fog parted to reveal an old, rotting fishing boat, manned by a shaking elderly man and woman.
"It's just me, girls," the woman stretched her arms in offering, which they immediately accepted. "It's okay," she cooed softly as Jindo began bawling uncontrollably.
"It's not okay! I j-j-just want to d-d-die…"
"How much do you know?" Seol pressed the fisher spirit, tuning out her sister's gutwrenching sobs.
"Nothing," she said flatly. "They are wild rumors…" the fishing boat trailed off hesitantly. "They say that Won Gyun…is dead…that he foolishly charged the entire Japanese Armada...that the entire fleet…is gone…and that there is now nothing stopping them from here to Seoul…how much of it…how much of it is true?"
"All of it."
Seol attempted to brave the trawler's anxious expression, but failed. "Are there any others?"
"Survivors?" She jerked her head in the elderly man's direction, where he was frantically trying to board Seol's port side. "That's what he's here for."
"Commander Bae!" the fisherman bowed frantically before the still-shaking Korean officer. "I am so glad to see you!"
"It…has been a long time…"
"When I heard that there were survivors in these waters, I knew I had to come… My son, my boy…he volunteered as a gunner aboard a panokseon before the fleet sortied to Chilcheollyang…do you know if he…?"
Commander Bae Seol shook his head.
"I am sorry, old man…his ship was among those Admiral Won beached on Gadeok Island during his failed assault. He is gone."
What little energy the fisherman had left faded as the light left eyes. He curled up into a ball as he collapsed the wooden deck, sobbing like a newborn child.
"Can this day get any worse?" Seol whispered before shaking the old woman in agitation. "Fisherwoman, tell me, tell me that this is all a dream! That none of this is happening! I want to have hope! You always know something that we do not!"
"I know of only thing, and even I am not sure if telling you will make any difference."
"Tell! Me!"
"He lives. When news reached King Seonjo's court, they recalled him and immediately reinstated him as Admiral of the Fleet.
Even from a distance, she could tell that the man was a shell of his former self.
He was far thinner than she remembered. His flesh had withered away to the point he resembled skin-wrapped bone. Not even the subtle support from his escort could hide the fact that the reappointed admiral was struggling to remain upright. Suddenly the man issued a guttural cough, spitting out a reddish liquid as he heaved on the ground.
"Uncle!" the escort wiped worriedly at the admiral's bleeding mouth.
"It is nothing…my nephew…" he rasped. "Take me to the surviving officers immediately."
She watched sadly as the two figures receded into the building Bae Seol had made their headquarters.
"So how is he?" a spirit badgered her anxiously. The ten survivors had decided to host a deputation on Jindo's deck.
"Like a dead man walking."
There was an uneasy silence as they processed the information.
"How could this have happened?" Jindo demanded at last. "What did the King do to him?"
"I don't know. I suppose we should be grateful that he is even alive at all. Where are our sailors?"
Seol grimaced. "They're with our captains right now, with Admiral Yi. They're mutinying."
"…I hope you understand, Admiral. We love our country very much…but this is suicide."
"Admiral Yi," Commander Bae paced about the room worriedly. "At Chilcheollyang, the Japanese fleet emerged virtually unscathed. The enemy has hundreds, if not thousands, of ships at sea. We have only ten. Even if Commander Kim's new detachment arrives, that means you will only have twelve ships at your disposal. We cannot repel even the smallest raiding party."
"And even fewer able-bodied seamen," another captain chimed in. "More than a few sailors slipped away into the night, and I doubt we barely have more than a hundred soldiers assembled here at this very moment. You have to understand, sir…after all we've been through…we're scared."
"Admiral…have some sense," a sailor pleaded.
The old man gave a bloodied hacking cough before replying.
"I cannot make any promises."
"I know what you have been through," he continued, ignoring their terrified expressions, "and if you wish to return home, I understand. But as for myself, I will not concede so easily. Commander Bae, Magister An Wi…I will make up my mind tonight. Gentlemen, goodnight." One by one the men begrudgingly left Admiral Yi's quarters until only his nephew remained.
"Uncle…come home," he pleaded. "You've done everything you can…there's no need to sacrifice yourself."
"Nephew," Admiral Yi closed his eyes. "This is home. It is right to fight for King Seonjo until the very end."
"Uncle, how can you say that after everything he's done to you? For objecting to attacking Chilcheollyang on the grounds that it was likely a trap…he imprisoned you, demoted you to a common soldier, and left you to die amongst the ranks like a dog. Were it not for the intervention of Minister Jeong…you would have been executed outright. The only reason why he reinstated you as Admiral is because there was no one else to do it. So why do you keep following his orders?"
"Nephew, tell me…" his dark eyes opened once more. "Have you ever had a gnawing feeling in your chest? I have. It's like a rheumatic ache…the more you try to ignore it, the more troublesome it becomes. When I served General Gwon in exile many times I wondered would it be like, to go home, to see you, and forget that there was war at all. But every time I imagined returning to our estate, I would be overcome by something stronger. It was like a dream, a wish…it's the feelings you have when you know you must move mountains, but try to do so anyway. Unfortunately I cannot put it in simpler words," Admiral Yi sighed in defeat at his nephew's confused gaze. "I am sure the words will come to me. I find my mind clearer when I am by the sea. However, in the meantime you should get some sleep, Pun. We have deliberated long enough for one evening."
Indeed, for the recovering admiral there were more pressing matters needing his attention. There was a Royal dispatch that needing answering, and he already suspected its subject. Glancing one last time at Yi Pun's sleeping form, he took a deep breath and reluctantly opened the letter.
To the Supreme Commander of the Regional Navies:
I have come to the conclusion that the Joseon Navy is no more. It will be impossible to restore the Navy to its former power, let alone contest an enemy division.
In the interest of reserving manpower for the inevitable Japanese push to come, I recommend that you join forces with Gwon Ryul. Assemble what survivors you can; it may be possible that you will encounter some other veterans of Won Gyun's last battle.
You are to burn the remaining panokseon and retreat inland.
The sailors and marines will thereafter serve as footsoldiers in Jeolla and the neighboring provinces where possible.
King Seonjo
So, that was it. Not even Seoul had any confidence in any further naval victories. Perhaps his nephew and the others were right. For Joseon to live, the navy had to die.
What had he been thinking, believing that a few hundred men (at best) could delay the enemy any further?
Admiral Yi was just about to resign himself to obey King Seonjo's demands when he came across the answer he had been searching for.
There on the window frame behind him was a note, clearly scrawled by a woman or a scribe of flowery penmanship.
On it was a simple but powerful series of characters.
"Hope."
Wordlessly she watched him return to his position before the window and reexamine the letter with renewed vigor. He quickly refolded the letter and began writing out his own response.
Even if the navy is small, as long as I live the enemy cannot despise us.
AN: The context for "Guilt" as told by common popular history interpretations (historiography disagrees with specific bits if the wikipedia editing history and the sources cited in each revision is any indication) of the second Japanese invasion in the Imjin War/Seven Years' War (1592-1598):
There was apparently convincing intel that the combined Japanese fleets would be in a compromising position, with the informant urging Admiral Yi Sun-sin to quickly take action. To Admiral Yi, this seemed strongly suspicious (if not certainly a trap) and thus refused to take action. Court opponents (Admiral Yi's successor Won Gyun is commonly implicated as playing a role in Admiral Yi's downfall) seized this opportunity to encourage his removal, with the King himself going so far as to have Admiral Yi executed. Fortunately, a pro-Yi official (Minister Jeong) stepped in and successfully downgraded Admiral Yi's punishment to being demoted to a low-rank soldier and forced to serve inland.
For the Joseon Navy however, this was a massive disaster. Won Gyun, Yi Sun-sin's successor, was nowhere near as experienced of a naval officer, and lead the fleet to total annihilation at Chilcheollyang. There were only twelve confirmed surviving ships (those part of Commander Bae Seol's unit who had decided to nope out of there once the odds became clear), of which two were lost during the panicked retreat. This meant that there was effectively no Korean fleet to resist the Japanese incursions. Although King Seonjo swiftly corrected his mistake by belatedly re-appointing Yi Sun-sin to his former position, the damage was done. Yi Sun-sin was forced to make do with his miniscule force while the combined Japanese fleets were virtually intact.
According to some legends, King Seonjo ordered Admiral Yi to burn the remaining ships and retreat inland, to which he replied, "Even if the navy is small, as long as I live the enemy cannot despise us."