I apologize for any typos in advance. I did proofread but some probably slipped by.
If you thought Koreans as Soviets was strange, just wait until you see what I have in mind for the America expy.
Also, a pretty obvious shoutout to one of the most famous film marines of all time.
Chapter 2
As the War Approaches.
15 November PB 1561
Cheonang Federation
"Oh fuck me," commented Sr. Soldier Gyo Il-Sung, as he marched into the troopship. The assembled task force of navy warships and merchant marine ships was colossal. He had never seen more ships gathered in a single place.
"Save it for the hookers," commented Corporal Doh Jung, smiling.
"It's just a lot of ships. I'm about counting thirty warships, around a hundred support ships, and- Holy shit! That's a lot of tanks!" commented Il-Sung, looking around at the docks as they marched onto the ship.
"No shit," commented Jung, "I've heard that they're using the entirety of the 3rd Army as an invasion force, so that means about 5000 tanks and 120,000 men."
"I don't doubt that we're an invasion force, but who are we invading?" asked Sergeant Li Min.
"Dunno. I heard that they'll tell us once we're out to sea," returned Jung.
"Hey Gyo, you got a smoke?" asked Soldier Kim Jong-Il. Jong-Il was of average height and build with handsome dark hair, and freckles that made him look like some sort of boy from out in the rural countryside, which he was. In spite of the stereotypes associated with country people, Jong-Il barely touched alcohol, and was generally a quiet, intelligent man. He was a boy, really, being only eighteen years old. He wore the ugly issued glasses nicknamed "disease prevention."
"Yeah, I do, but I'm not giving it to you. I'm saving them until we actually deploy. If we go into combat, I might actually want a nicotine buzz. I might share once we actually land because I brought like a dozen cartons with me."
"You're a real great guy, Gyo. You just can't hoard those for yourself, though. If any of use catches you smoking during the trip, you are going to share some smokes with the whole section," ordered Li Min, "And guys, be sure to watch him."
There were some good natured laughs all around.
"Alright, let's find where we're sleeping. Lemme see," said Sergeant Li, looking at a folded piece of paper he'd stuffed into his pants, "We're sleeping on Deck 3."
"That's it, just Deck 3," commented Jung.
"Well yeah. This isn't a luxury liner. They're probably stacking us like sardines in bunks."
"Fuck!" exclaimed, Soldier Park Dong.
"Get over it. Want a tissue, crybaby?" asked the sergeant.
Some more laughs all around as they walked down the metal stairs of the ship down the to the third deck. All twelve of the decks devoted to carrying troops were about the same. A wide avenue divided two main sections of bunks. These bunks were each four-tiered Perpendicular to the main avenue, which also served as a common area and mess, were rows of bunks, two deep and a hundred twenty-five per row on both sides of the avenue.
"You're part of the 2nd Armored Brigade, right?" asked a young naval officer.
"Yes. 4th Battalion, C Company," answered the platoon leader, the 6'6" Jr. Lt. Pak Myung-Dae. Myung-Dae also had broad, wide shoulders and was a veritable wall of muscle. He had a large, curving nose and light brown hair. His skin was weathered tan. His eyes were the color of flint, but managed to express both great joy and sadness. When angry, he raged. When happy, he spoke in a high tenor.
"Look for the area designated for 4th Battalion, find your CO, and he'll direct you to where you are bunking," answered the naval officer.
"Thank you," returned the Lt, saluting the other, shorter man.
"So General, what do you think? Isn't it a grand fleet. Forty warships, fifteen oilers, and eighty transports," said Admiral Pak-Cho at the bridge of the fast battleship Blue Storm Rising.
It was a modern design, doing away with the separate conning tower of older battleships, instead building it into the bridge. It was armed with ten 38 cm/50 guns in its main battery, sixteen 13 cm/40 DP guns, forty 5 cm/L70 AA guns, and 100 3 cm/75 AA guns. The 38 cm turrets all had a blocky look due to their near vertical turret faces designed to provide greater protection against falling fire at long ranges. The two gun 38 cm C and D turrets had a slimmer look than either of the three gun A or B turrets. The eight twin 13 cm turrets had a squarish shape with a curved turret face, each with their own AA fire director. Above and below the DP guns, were the low, sleek turrets of the 5 cm AA guns. The guns were right next to each other, and they each fired a 50 shells a minute. Every pair of 5 cm turrets had their own fire director. The 3 cm guns were mounted in manually operated twin pedestal mounts, 25 per broadside. Their main purpose was to put up a wall of anti-aircraft fire at close ranges of up to 2000 meters, a job they did admirably since they could realistically put out 30,000 rounds in a minute.
"Definitely. I don't there will be any problems that 130,000 troops can't solve," responded General Doh Mal-Chin.
"Do you see that ship over there? That's the cruiser Union. She displaces 11,000 tonnes. Armed with nine 18 centimeter guns, eight 13 centimeter DP guns, twenty 5 centimeter AA guns, and forty 3 centimeter AA guns. She's a good ship, and her captain, Ri Chang-Uk, is a good man," said the admiral.
"You really do know the ships of your fleet," commented the general.
"I make a habit of knowing my subordinates. It's a just a part of good leadership," stated Admiral Cho, looking at the setting sun.
"I've got a question for you, Admiral. Why do you command from a battleship, rather than a more modern and dangerous carrier?"
"Well, battleships are better protected, that's all. When I was a kid, I heard this story about a battleship from a long time ago that took 17 bombs and 19 torpedoes to kill. An aircraft carrier would have sunk much earlier. Besides, I like battleships more than carriers. They might be more limited than the carriers, but I like them more. Maybe because I grew up around ships and heard stories about battleships; who knows. I'm just a battleship admiral," answered Cho.
Cho picked up a radio headset and asked over the fleetwide band, "Is everyone ready?"
The admiral received a chorus of assent from the ships one by one.
"Alright gentlemen, today we begin our grand voyage on 15 November of the Year After the War 1561 at 17:33. As we set forth on this journey, let every man know there is no turning back. You've been chosen for this mission because General Doh and I know that you will carry out your duty to your fullest ability. Thank you everyone."
16 November PB 1561
Hi no Kuni – Fire Country
"Alright team, we're going to be practicing the ambush of a battalion of soldiers. I will warn you, their armor does incorporate a few chakra absorbing seals that reduce the effectiveness of ninjutsu upon them. Not that it really matters, since only clone jutsu are allowed for safety purposes," said Kakashi, "To give a brief rundown of how important a ninja village is for a country's national defense, an average genin is worth about ten to twenty soldiers, an average chunin is worth about a hundred soldiers, and an average jounin is worth about five hundred to one thousand soldiers. Kage level ninja are worth entire armies, as in the field formation, not an entire country's conventional military, but that's only because a kage is limited in where they can be at one time, even with clones," explained Kakashi.
"So how many soldiers are in a battalion?" asked Sakura somewhat nervously.
"Six-hundred, but only four-hundred eighty are combatants. However, units of archers and engines are attached to a company. Now remember, even if you are using dyed practice weapons, control yourselves. They can still kill and these people are on our side. This goes double for you, Naruto and Sasuke."
"Yes, Kakashi-sensei," responded the two.
"Excellent," said Kakashi, smiling underneath his mask, "One more thing, go for the unarmored areas. Your blows won't count if they hit the armor."
The four quickly moved through the woods. The ground was still shrouded with early morning mist. At a safe distance, they halted and hit behind a tree a few hundred meters from the road.
"Why here?" asked Naruto, having the good sense to whisper.
"They do have scouting elements looking for us. A number one mistake by rookie genin, such as yourselves, is to underestimate the competence of a conventional military unit. I saw too many bright young lives extinguished by that fatal error in the last war. What you need to keep in mind is that they don't stray too far from the formation so that they can't be picked off at leisure. Now, what do you think we should do to prepare?"
"I think I should make some clones, and transform them into rocks on the road and have them transform back in the middle of the formation," said Naruto.
"Think. They wear hobnailed sandals. Any soldier stepping on one or a cart rolling over one would disperse the clone and give it away. Try again," answered Kakashi.
"Do you see that," said Colonel Takahashi Ayumu, pointing toward a flight of bird emerging from the canopy. Ayumu was a surprisingly young man for a colonel, only twenty-nine years old and well muscled body. He had the tan of one from a coastal region. His head was shaved to more comfortable fit under the helmet, a steel skullcap with hanging cheekpieces and attached lames to cover the neck. To protect his eyes, he wore goggles along with the others. As befitting his rank, he wore a two-piece cuirass made from steel with a groin protector and hanging lames to protect his shoulders and upper legs. Solid vambraces and greaves protected his arms and legs. Underneath the metal, he wore a crimson shirt made from a thick, heavy duty weave. His brown trousers were made from heavy duty canvass. A horsehair crest and the gold on his shield. Unlike the soldiers of other armies, the HiKuRi put their faith in heavy infantry rather than heavy cavalry, and it seemed to have worked well for them. They were also one of very few countries that could afford this.
"Yes sir," returned Sergeant Major Yamamoto Isamu, Ayumu's second in command, a grizzled NCO with a long and proud history of service. Unlike his commanding officer, Isamu came from no moneyed family, but the army made every man equal, starting them out a low rank and making them earn more power and responsibility. He was forty years old, a veteran of the last war. His short salt and pepper hair, hard eyes, and squared-off face gave him a serious but fatherly look. He wore armor similar to his commander, albeit slightly less gilded and with a horizontal crest and braided rope across his shoulder.
"Halt! Crossbows and ballistae, ready your weapons!" shouted Colonel Takahashi, "Captains, take charge of your units and assemble into marching battle formation, guarding the baggage train and ranged soldiers!"
"Yes sir!" returned the company leaders. Everyone began to pull the goggles down onto their faces to protect their eyes.
"It seems they have a general idea of our location," commented Kakashi, "Must have been the birds."
"Hey, the drumbeat changed," said Sakura.
"That's because they are stopping to move into a battle formation. They don't fight in close order formations. Each man stands about two meters from each other, far enough that they don't get in each other's way but close enough that they can support each other. That drumbeat is battle drumbeat rather than a marching beat. One more thing, don't use shuriken unless you are sure you can hit the throat or face because they're practically useless elsewhere."
Kakashi took off, jumping through the trees. His students followed him promptly. They soon came upon the marching formation. They were not noticed in the trees.
"Fire into the trees. That sure as hell ain't a tree color!" yelled a man at the center of the formation.
"Note to self," thought Kakashi, "Teach students proper value of camouflage," as he jumped out of the canopy above a volley of quarrels and a few spears hurled from torsion catapults. Sakura was hit by the dye marked weapons. She was "dead."
Naruto jumped out from the foliage, summoning a number of shadow clones. Most of the clones were dispersed by a well timed volley of lead-weighted darts. Thankfully, Naruto himself was unscratched. Sasuke had not leaped, instead running down the tree to attack the soldiers. A volley of knives were blocked by their shields. Kakashi landed in the midst of the crossbowmen, easily cutting a few of them down. He jumped away before he could get stabbed in the chaos of hand to hand combat. It wasn't like he had eyes in the back of his head like a Hyuuga. Naruto performed similarly, taking out a few of the swordsmen before jumping to follow his leader. Sasuke got caught up in the melee, taking out a good dozen swordsmen before getting bashed with a shield, getting stabbed, and "dying." Another volley of quarrels followed the two ninja, miraculously missing them.
"That's an important lesson, Naruto. Don't do what Sasuke did just now and get bogged down in a melee. You will get stabbed. These aren't like the rabble from Wave; they're professionals," said Kakashi, "Slap a few practice tags onto their shields to clear a path to their commander."
Naruto nodded, readying a few tags.
"Losses?" barked Ayumu, practice sword in hand. It wasn't a long curved blade like the one used by samurai or cavalry, but rather a short, straight stabbing blade. Studies had concluded that a stab wound was more efficient at killing than a slash. About six centimeters of penetration to the torso would kill a human. The only problem was that a thrust was a more difficult guarding position, hence the usage of a large, rectangular shield.
"Ten."
"Fourteen"
"Seventeen"
"Twelve."
Ayumu nodded. He'd lost about forty men. Not unexpected. Yamamoto had told him stories of climbing over hills of their own troops to eventually reach ninja adversaries.
A cloud of smoke and horde of orange told him of the approach of another attack of ninja. They clashed, the clones dispersing into smoke after a good sword hit. Puffs of died smoke exploded in his ranks, "killing" scores of soldiers. A lucky crossbow bolt, caught one of the orange clad ninjas in the shoulder, leaving a mark in a bright white. This one didn't disperse, obviously the real one. Now for the last one. Through the smoke, a jounin level ninja cut his way through Ayumu's forces. Soon, one turned into nine. Ayumu had heard the ninja say "Bunshin no Jutsu," so these were obviously illusionary clones. A kunai bounced off his shield. All of them jumped, one jumping off Yamamoto's shield. There was a certain weight to that, making that the real ninja. He ignored all the other ones. As the ninja jumped, Ayumu did everything his training told him not to do. He swung his sword in a wide arc as the knife came for his neck. The dye marked a long line from the solar plexus to the groin, while the knife marked a long line across his jugular. A double kill.
"Good job there, I did not expect that," said the masked ninja a friendly fashion.
"There wasn't any skill to that, ninja-san. Just some luck. Besides, you killed me, the commanding officer. That last plan was good. None of the overcomplicated bullshit you folks have a reputation for doing, just a good plan that kept it simple. If it wasn't for some luck on my part, you would have escaped unharmed. Besides, you were under a handicap."
"Losses?" shouted the colonel.
"Eighty!"
"Seventy-two!"
"Eighty!"
"Six!"
"Four," said the ninja, smiling underneath that mask.
"Need a hand, ninja-san?" asked the colonel, extending a hand to the allied ninja. The silver haired man took it and the soldier pulled him up.
"I'd recognize that face," said Sergeant Major Yamamoto Isamu, "Hatake Kakashi. Didn't think I'd see you again."
"Oh, Isamu-san. A pleasure to see you again," responded Kakashi, "You're a Sergeant Major now, good job."
"You know each other?" asked Naruto and Ayumu simultaneously.
"Well yeah, Colonel. He ended up attached to my unit for a while to help break the stalemate in the foothills of Earth Country. Remember that story when I had to climb up the hill of my comrades' bodies to reach the enemy, he was the ninja attached to my unit that helped us break through," said the grizzled NCO, "Oh Kakashi-san, this my CO, Colonel Takahashi Ayumu. How's Rin doing?"
"Rin's dead, Isamu-san."
"My apologies, Kakashi-san. Still, how have you been, buddy?"
"I've been pretty well, actually. How's the wife?"
"Two strong sons like me and a pretty daughter like her. She's down with the flu at the moment, though. I wish we weren't doing these exercises, so I could see her," said the soldier, "Any ladies in your life, Kakashi-san?"
"I'm still single."
"That's a shame. Raising a family is a wonderful experience, and a sensible woman should curb your excesses."
Osteanic Ocean
"Men of the Third Army and 101st Marine Armored Division, it is now time to explain this mission. As I am sure you are all aware, our country is not in a good time. This mission boils down to a resource grab at all costs. Resistance, heavy resistance at that is expected," came the voice of General Doh Mal-Chin.
"This is new," commented Corporal Jung, "Let's see how good my info was."
"With all due respect, shut up Corporal. This seems important," whispered Kim Jong-Il.
"... We are traveling to a foreign land, the Elemental Countries as they are known in the local parlance, in order for us to secure these resources. That is not to say we are a violent nation of conquest. Violence will not be our first option, rather diplomacy..."
"Oh come on, I joined the military to travel the world, meet interesting people, and kill them," whispered Il-Sung, "Not for this talking bullshit."
"Lock it up," whispered Sergeant Li.
"... The training you gentlemen have undergone over the past few months has been for this mission. The Cheonsang Federation cares for its fighting men to prepare them to withstand the trials that lie ahead. I will not lie here. Take a look at the men around you. Chances are, they won't be next to you by the time we finish. Our enemies have supernatural abilities beyond your wildest dreams..."
"That is so bullshit," whispered Jung.
"...We will need to be ever vigilant against these 'ninja.' It is for this purpose that you have familiarized yourselves with the proper procedures of a Federation soldier and the proper way to wear one's uniform..."
"I thought it was just busywork," commented Kim Jong-Il.
"Shut up, Soldier," said the sergeant.
"...A field manual specifically for this operation will be distributed, and every soldier must read it in order to be prepared for this coming battle. Gentlemen, you know your duty and are able to carry out your orders. I trust you, my army, to accomplish this mission to the best of your abilities."
"Sergeant Li, Sergeant Gim, Sergeant Park, follow me to get these field manuals," ordered the imposingly large Lieutenant Myung-Dae.
"Yes sir," chorused the addressed squad leaders as they stood up to follow their leader.
Others had a similar idea and had also stood up to go to where number of sailors had opened up several crates filled with field manuals.
"So, let's get cracking at this incredibly interesting read," said Kim Min-Su dryly, holding up a copy of the field manual. It was a plain paperback volume, only about 200 pages in length.
"I'm going to try reading this aloud, guys. So prepare yourselves."
"The Elemental Countries are a series of nations located on the continent of Yurasia. As can be determined from their names, they are named after various traditional elements such as fire, wind, water, and other natural phenomena, not the scientific elements..."
"This is going to be a long night," said Chang-Uk.
"You said it," agreed Jun Min-Ho
30 Nov PB 1561
Osteanic Ocean – Cheonsang Federation Battleship Blue Storm Rising
"Do you think that our envoys are going to be dead on arrival?" asked Admiral Pak Cho to General Doh Mal-Chin.
"I hope not. Envoys and diplomats tend to be listened to first, then executed," joked the general darkly.
"I did send out our smallest ships, the destroyers, to spread the message, but a single destroyer could probably annihilate one their fleets with a combination of torpedoes and gunnery. They still rely on boarding, something barely better than ramming," said Admiral Pak Cho.
"I wouldn't underestimate them. I think it would be better to have them as friends rather than enemies," returned the calm general, "Besides, I've read the reports, supernatural abilities doesn't say the half of what they can do. I hope that two months of intensive training was enough."
"It should. I think you give them too much credit and our troops not enough," said the admira.
"I suppose so, Admiral, but I am worried. This could be a big folly. What if they allied with our enemies. Then we lose our technological advantage over them," confided General Doh.
"I wonder how our envoys are doing..." said Admiral Pak Cho, trailing off.
Sea of Mist – Cheonsang Federation Destroyer Seoul
"I'm on a boat, motherfucker!" shouted one sailor on the starboard bow.
"Shut the hell up!" yelled another.
"I can't believe we're stuck with these idiots," whispered the translator and former spy in the Elemental Countries Kim Chung-Ho. Chung-Ho was a short man, with long dark hair, a beard, and was more than a little overweight. For the purpose of the spying mission, he'd had to shave his beard, shave his head, and lose about twenty pounds and stay like that. He'd managed somehow.
"I think the Old Man hates us," returned his companion, diplomat Koon Seok. The lanky diplomat puffed a cigar peacefully. He really didn't mind the antics of the sailors. They, in fact, amused him. His act of nuisance was just that, an act. Seok was an older man in his fifties. He had neatly trimmed black hair and green eyes. His face was plain, but he had a charismatic and friendly air. It proved useful in his line of work. He wore a professional looking black suit with a white shirt and black tie.
"In the fuckin' sea!" yelled the same sailor from before.
Osteanic Ocean – Cheonsang Federation Battleship Blue Storm Rising
"I bet they're just fine," finished the Admiral.
Sea of Mist – Cheonsang Federation Destroyer Seoul
"Two contacts, twenty kilometers, speed of 7.5. Courses are tacking towards us," said the radar operator.
"Helm, what's our current speed?" asked the destroyer's captain, Kwang Ha-Neul.
"A steady 30 kilometers per hour, sir," returned the helmsman.
"Radio, are they broadcasting anything?" asked the captain.
"Yes sir. Can't understand a word of the local language."
"Mr. Kim Chung-Ho, would you kindly assist the gentlemen operating the radio?"
"Yes sir," returned the translator walking to the radio room. It was only a short walk down from the bridge under the deck. The room itself was small and rather cramped, warm from both the electronic equipment and body heat. The fat man squeezed, but elbow bumping and stepping on feet was unavoidable.
"Go ahead, Mr. Chung-Ho. Please say: 'This is Cheonsang Federation Destroyer DD101 Seoul. Please repeat your message.'"
The translator (and recalled spy) nodded and put on a radio headset. He began to speak into the set, "This is Cheonsang Federation Destroyer DD101 Seoul. Please repeat your message. We have suffered a communications error, over."
A voice angrily spoke from the other end, "This is Water Country Frigate Zuikaku, you are inside Water Country territorial waters. Maintain your current bearing but slow down. We wish to escort you, over."
"Frigate Zuikaku, that order will be passed on. Bear in mind that this is a warship of a sovereign nation so hostile actions can be met with lethal force. We are also carrying diplomats of the Cheonsang Federation to Water Country for talks and to possibly set up an embassy, over."
"Destroyer DD101, you will be escorted to the port of Atarashii Akamachi. Hold your current bearing and slow down. Upon reaching your location, we wish to affirm that you are carrying diplomats, over."
"Frigate Zuikaku, that will be passed down. Please be ready for further communications, over."
"Destroyer DD101, acknowledged. Remaining on standby for further communications, out."
"Thanks for your time, gents," said the already sweaty Chung-Ho, "Captain, this is Chung-Ho. The Water Country Frigate Zuikaku would like for us to slow down and escort us to the port of Atarashii Akamachi. I informed them that we are carrying diplomats and that hostile actions may be met with lethal force."
"Thank you, Mr. Kim Chung-Ho. As far as first contact goes, that went reasonably well. Nonetheless, Gunnery, prepare a firing solution on these two ships. Helm, reduce speed to 5 kilometers per hour," said Captain Kwang Ha-Neul.
"Frigate Zuikaku, this is Destroyer DD101 Seoul. We are slowing our course. Intercept should take approximately 8 hours, over."
"Destroyer DD101, acknowledged. Maintain your heading and speed, over."
"Frigate Zuikaku, acknowledged. Maintaining heading and bearing, out."
Due to favorable winds, the Water Country frigates managed to reach the Seoul in seven hours. By this time, the sun was starting to set. The two frigates, Shokaku and Zuikaku, were about fifty meters long and built with overlapping planks of wood. They had two masts, both junk rigged. They probably displaced around five hundred tonnes. In comparison, the Seoul was one-hundred twenty-five meters long and displaced twenty-five hundred tonnes. The paint was another matter in contrast, the two frigates had much of their hulls painted black with their upper hulls painted white while the destroyer was painted entirely in a light grey color.
Chung-Ho and Seok were both on deck, wearing their suits. The captain was also on deck in his khaki service uniform with several ribbons affixed. The wind whipped at their faces. Kwang Ha-Neul had resorted to using his hand to keep the cover on his head. By this point, all the guns were manned as insurance. A section of marines stood around the three men. Were it not for their differing insignia, they would have been indistinguishable from army soldiers.
The pair of frigates were on both sides of the destroyer, straddling it. Sailors on both sides looked curiously at one their foreign counterparts. At this point, there was no hostility between the two, only curiosity. A plank was lowered to connect the two ships. A man from the Zuikaku stepped forward, backed up with eight of their own marines, who carried crossbows and short, curved blades for fighting in boarding actions. They wore armor made from lames of various materials such as metal, leather, and bamboo. The Cheonsang marines were doing their best to avoid outright laughter at the medieval appearance of their counterparts. The fat translator stepped forward and gave a bow to the apparent commander of the ship. The man returned the bow, though not nearly as deeply.
The translator then spoke up, telling the man, "I am the only translator on this ship. My name is Kim Chung-Ho, the man in the military uniform is Captain Kwang Ha-Neul, and the man next to him is our envoy, Koon Seok. Welcome aboard the Destroyer Seoul."
"Thank you, Kim-san. This appears to be a very fine boat. I do have a few questions though, how does it move without sails or float when it seems to made from metal?" said the man from the Zuikaku.
"I'm afraid I can't answer your first question, but for the second, there is enough space inside that the overall density is lighter than water, allowing it to float."
"I see, Kim-san. I am Captain Itou Yuu of the Frigate Zuikaku. We will escort your ship to the port of Atarashii Akamachi. I understand that this is a historical moment for our nations, so I believe this occasion should be celebrated with a toast to our Water Country and your Cheonsang Federation."
8 December PB 1561
Water Country Capital – Sodaina Toshi
The voyage to the port of Atarashii Akamachi had taken the ships three days. At her normal cruising speed, the Seoul could probably have made the it in a day, but the sailing ships were considerable slower than the destroyer's cruising speed at their fastest. The ship remained at the port with the crew as guests.
The next leg of the journey to have an audience to the capital began. The diplomat, translator, and a fireteam of marines were taken across the country by wagon. Kim Chung-Ho couldn't help but notice the scars of war from graves and shrines to ruined and empty buildings. The people were a hard and grim people. There was national fortitude to never give up and get back up after challenges to succeed. It was an ethic that anyone could admire, but rather pesky to have in a potential enemy. Before they reached the capital of Sodaina Toshi, it rained and dirt roads turned to mud, delaying them a day. The next day, they reached the capital.
Like the capitals of most developing countries, there was an initial layer of slums. Since the city was walled, these slums extended around city. They were one part ghetto, one part refugee camp, and one part tent city. There was mud all around. Soldiers with armor made from lacquered leather and other materials were nearly always in sight to keep order. Their prodding spears kept the pathways clear. The marines called at them along the way, using some of the local language they'd been taught in the field manual. Unsurprisingly, they'd also picked up a decent grasp of how to curse in the local tongue. The Water Country soldiers sometimes returned friendly waves, but they were often ignored or received less than amused looks.
Things were vastly cleaner and more peaceful inside the walls of the city. Buildings rose several stories. Some of the marines guffawed at the pagodas like country bumpkins, having seen nothing like them in their lives. However, above all this loomed the imposing figure of the Daimyo's palatial castle. Here, people were vastly less haggard and seemed happy. Shops were open for business. It was an amazing shift from the squalor outside the walls.
"Big change, wouldn't you say?" asked Seok, puffing another of his cigars. Thankfully, there were no windows otherwise the wagon would have been filled with smoke. The marines were smoking, Seok was smoking, Chung-Ho puffed a pipe he'd purchased both for his pipe collection as much as its utility for smoking.
"Yup," agreed Chung-Ho.
"It's like refugee camps fucking everywhere," said the sergeant, "They're all shitty. Prisoners probably have it slightly better than refugees. However, I have tried and failed at giving a damn."
"You cold-hearted SOB," said Seok jokingly.
"I know, but when it comes to protection, a cold-hearted SOB with a gun is better than some fucking limp-dicked, pacifistic pansy. I've seen some of those guys, I never knew they really did stack shit that high," returned Sergeant Hateumaen, "Those fuckers deserve some six-point-three-five millimeter full metal jacket between their eyes."
Hateumaen's foul sense of humor and generally crude language almost never failed to make anyone laugh. It was as much a part of him as his sergeant rank. He wasn't just a Non-Commissioned Officer, but the Non-Commissioned Officer. He smiled as everyone else laughed. It wasn't cruel laughter because the man was genuinely well liked.
"Hey Butterball, you sweaty?" asked the man.
"Am I ever not?" returned Chung-Ho, "Besides, I'm proud to be one fat mofo."
Hateumaen laughed before saying, "I'm so proud we taught you to swear like a sailor. You could come in and fuck my sister, man. Still, your mama would make you deepthroat a bar of soap if she heard you talk like that."
"We have arrived," said the driver who hadn't understood a word of the passengers' conversation in the back of his vehicle.
"Thank you for this service," said Kim Chung-Ho.
"Alright, we've got to proceed on foot from here," explained the translator.
"Fix bayonets, we're looking sharp today," ordered the sergeant, as he mounted the knife bayonet onto the rifle.
"Port arms! Right Shoulder Arms!" he sounded off, as the rifles went into their hands before the barrels rested against their shoulder with the butts in their hands.
"Tell the guards that we're the party from the Cheonsang Federation that wishes to speak with the Daimyo," said Koon Seok, straightening out his suit.
Once Chang-Un explained, the guards brought them through the winding corridors of the castle. Eventually, they were guided to outside the throneroom of the castle. They were told that the Daimyo would see them shortly.
"Daimyo-sama, the envoys from the Cheonsang Federation are here to see you."
The Daimyo of Water Country was kneeling on an expensive mat. His hall was ostentatious with gold leaf decorating intricate carvings of mythological figures. The floor was made from polished wood. Elegantly beautiful white walls lent an elegant beauty to the room. Hanging in the rear of the spacious chamber was a lavish tapestry depicting the founding of Water Country.
"Enter," commanded the country's ruler.
The eight men entered the room, six soldiers and two civilians. The soldiers were dressed in camouflage patterned fatigues with the sleeves rolled up and round steel helmets. They carried strange metal weapons with knives affixed to the ends. These seemed to short to make a good spear. The soldiers' apparent leader barked something, and they presented their weapons in what the Daimyo interpreted as a salute to him. The two gentlemen wearing suits bowed down to him, befitting his position.
"I am Daimyo Ono Ryuu of Water Country. For what purpose are you gentlemen here?"
They discussed something in their own language for a little bit before the fat one said, "Ono-sama, I am Kim Chang-Un, a translator of the Cheonsang Federation, and this is my companion Koon Seok, a diplomat of the Cheonsang Federation."
"I see. What do you want?" inquired the Daimyo, folding his hands.
"Today, we have two simple requests. We'd like somewhere to establish a trading outpost, perhaps a smaller islands, and Admiral Pak Cho respectfully requests your presence on the battleship Blue Storm Rising to meet and dine with the heads of state of the other nations for the purpose of encouraging a greater understanding between our nations. I've been told that the chefs wish to prepare some of your traditional food to go along with ours."
"I will consider this. However, I would like to bring several ninja from the Hidden Mist Village with me as guards. Furthermore, I want this Blue Storm Rising without its accompanying fleet."
The two diplomats discussed something in their own language for a little bit. This was already starting to annoy him. It didn't matter if someone was reading their mind, they still would be unable to figure out the language. Even if they used the translator, if the structure had no relation to the two languages, it wouldn't help that much. Against a translator this fluent, it would be an exercise in futility since they didn't think as they converted the languages, acting on instinct. Against a translator not nearly as fluent, they would think of the terms inside their own language. At best, some vocabulary could be picked up, but without knowledge of structure such information was mostly useless.
"I'll consider it. However, you are welcome to stay in my castle at this time. Guards, please find guest rooms for these men," said the Daimyo.
The Cheonsang party talked a little amongst themselves before leaving. It would do them no good to refuse the hospitality of a daimyo. They left and the room was quiet for a little bit. A shadow dropped from the roof. Her feet lightly pattered on the floor. While obviously feminine, no other features aside from the brown eyes that lurked behind the eye slits of a black cloth mask that covered here entire head. Everything she wore was black.
"Yamako-san, is that you?" inquired the Daimyo, who had not moved.
"Yes sir," replied the ninja softly.
"Excellent. Would you please gather some information on our new 'guests.' No assassination, since killing the messenger is a declaration of war. Just observe them."
"Understood, Daimyo-sama," returned the shadow as she slipped back into her domain, one of darkness.
"So how do you think that went?" asked Kim Chang-Uk.
"About as well as expected," responded Seok, lounging on one of the cushions that had been provided for them, "Oh, Sergeant Hateumaen, try not to get cleaning oil on this nice room. It really wouldn't serve us to offend our host."
"Alright," answered Hateumaen, now reassembling his freshly cleaned and field-stripped rifle, "You heard that boys? Don't make a mess."
"Aye, sir."
Where I get the names
Atarashii Akamachi - Jap. New Red Town (using Google translate)
Sodaina Toshi - Jap. Majestic City (using google translate)
