Chapter 66
A Reflection of Reality/Truth
It was remarkable, Rupert reflected, on how just two days could completely upset the state of the world so drastically. And it was not just a singular event either, the past two days had seen a steady stream of developments flowing in so rapidly that it was all the European Commission could do to stay abreast of the current situation, never mind figure out what to do in response. It was hard to come up with a cohesive plan of action when the facts on the ground kept changing.
When hostilities first broke out, the Chinese and Russians had proclaimed their sole intent as being to restore Japanese sovereignty. While the Russian president had piled on the rhetoric about the existential threat that Britannia represented, the rest of the messaging at least indicated a desire for a conflict of limited scope that did not escalate into a worldwide war. Except apparently whatever local contacts had been established with the Japanese resistance had not gotten that message and went on to assassinate Princess Euphemia just as the invasion forces crossed into Japanese territorial waters. All by itself that would have been bad enough, as the death of a princess as popular as Euphemia was guaranteed to inflame Britannian sentiment and put up the Empire's back.
Even worse, Princess Euphemia was by all indications extremely popular amongst the Japanese as well, as indicated by reports that, while partial and clearly undergoing some filtering due to being predominantly from Britannian news sources, Rupert suspected was still true at their core, the near entirety of Tokyo's local resistance cells had risen up in support of the Empire when another major resistance force tried to advance into the city to attack the Britannian Concessions. Exact details remained sparse, but the Britannian news agencies were all proclaiming a total victory and heaping praise upon the Japanese elements, both resistance and sworn soldiers, that contributed to it. Names like Suzaku Kururugi, the son of Japan's last prime minister, and Miho Nishizumi, the youngest daughter of General Nishizumi, one of only two Japanese Army commanders that scored an actual victory against Britannia during the invasion, were being repeated constantly. Whoever was behind the Empire's propaganda efforts was clearly trying to wring every possible advantage from the circumstances they were handed, and if Rupert was to be honest with himself, what they had been handed was a near bonanza in material to work from, and that was before the events of the second day emerged.
While the events in Tokyo could, barely, be written off as a spur of the moment passion decision by the locals due to Princess Euphemia's murder, which Anatoly, the Russian commissioner, had wasted no time professing, what happened down in Kyushu was far, far more difficult to brush aside. After all, there was no possible way the Japanese Liberation Front could have "spontaneously" decided to side with Britannia. Despite being on the receiving end of it, Rupert could not help but admire the political and diplomatic coup the Empire, or more likely Cardinal Lamperouge, had pulled off. What intelligence Europe was able to obtain from Japan had indicated a growing shift in sentiment in favor of the Empire, true, but no one had really thought this shift had progressed so far so quickly. True, some elements of the Japanese populace did seem to welcome the Chinese and Russian forces ostensibly there to liberate them, but it was now evident that a substantially larger portion, including the only elements that could have helped bolster the liberation effort, were not only squarely opposed to it, but also prepared to take up arms in said opposition. In just two days, the Empire had completely shredded the rationale China and Russia had constructed to justify their invasion of Japan. As things stood, Rupert was almost afraid of what this third day of war might bring. As the other commissioners filed into the conference room, it looked like he was in good company in quite a few regards.
"Mesdames et Messieurs," Rupert began once everyone was seated. "I hope all of you have had a chance to get at least some rest. Tumultuous as present circumstances are, it would do us little good if we are too weary to contemplate matters with level heads."
A mixture of grunts and even wry smirks answered him, demonstrative of the range of exhaustion each of them felt. All clearly had been up quite late discussing matters with their respective governments, and from the looks of it a few might well have yet to actually turn in from yesterday. Rupert was thankfully not one of the latter, managing to catch at least a few hours of sleep before being roused for this very meeting.
"Some of you may have already been informed, but last night the Britannian Empire issued a formal diplomatic note to the European Union," Rupert began, "inquiring as to what exactly the EU's diplomatic stance is with respect to the fighting in Japan."
In other words, was the EU a cobelligerent alongside its member state of Russia, or did the rest of Europe consider Japan to be a unilateral adventure on Russia's part. All of the commissioners tensed, not least Anatoly, the Russian commissioner.
"There has not yet been time to gather updated instructions from all the member governments," Rupert continued, "but the few that I have had a chance to speak with indicate their prior directives still stand."
A visible scowl crossed Anatoly's face at that, seeing as said directives were decidedly not in favor of his country's position. While prior to conflict breaking out the other European nations could continue hedging their positions, the two sides were closing in on a precipice. Russia yet to attempt to invoke any of the mutual defense provisions of the Treaty of the European Union, but that was at least partially because everyone knew the other nations would heavily resist such an invocation. The treaty terms were quite clear that other member states were only obliged to commit themselves to the attacked nation if said nation was a victim of aggression upon its territory. While Russia could make all sorts of abstract arguments about how Britannia was by definition an aggressor polity, thus far all fighting that had taken place was constrained to Japanese territories which, while certainly under occupation by the Empire, was still very clearly not the territory of an EU member state. Even with such a clearcut disqualifying factor however, refusing Russia's request for assistance would still come at a political cost, for both sides. But so long as Russia did not make the request, both sides could similarly avoid the fallout that would come from the inevitable refusal, even as all of the involved parties maneuvered to bolster their own side.
"At present however," Rupert went on, "one complication in providing the Empire's envoy with a formal response is that the exact legal conditions of the conflict unfolding remains, unclear."
While a few quizzical looks were shot the EU president's way, a few others wore contemplative expressions as they picked up on Rupert's thought process. Granted some had more help than others seeing as he enlisted several of his fellow commissioners in formulating this particular avenue, but they were far from the only ones to display such greater awareness.
"As far as I understand things, Anatoly," Rupert directly addressed the Russian commissioner, "the Russian Federation has not issued a formal declaration of war against Britannia. Absent such a declaration, upon what legal grounds is Russia pursuing military action against Britannia?"
To his credit, Anatoly maintained a confident visage as he answered.
"The Russian Federation is simply fulfilling our defense obligation with a treaty partner, one that was already the subject of Britannian aggression. Our usage of military force is therefore in exercise of a sovereign nation's right to defend itself."
"And which nation would this be?" Rupert pressed.
"Should that not be obvious?"
"Obvious is not a legal option in the statutes," the EU president retorted, then more firmly. "Which nation?"
Anatoly glared back at Rupert as he responded. "Japan."
Sounds of disbelief rippled around the table, though a few of the commissioners did not look particularly surprised. Some might have genuinely possessed the sort of discipline to control their expressions so masterfully, but considering which countries they represented, Rupert considered it more likely that they had been leaned on to support whatever ploy Anatoly was attempting. Whether they would actually do so would depend on how effectively Rupert himself was able to short circuit all this.
The expression that Rupert himself nearly let slip was not one of surprise. If anything, one might almost call it disappointment. It was clear this was another string to the overall ploy the Russian Federation was banking on to justify their military action against Britannia, as that of liberating a nation and people unjustly subjugated by an imperialist power. And before what happened in Tokyo, and what was apparently happening in Kyushu, it might have resonated strongly enough with the general public that trying to gainsay a nominal obligation to a government that didn't really exist anymore might still have become politically fraught. Now, trying to use that argument was just as liable to open one up to counterclaims of false representation and aggression on one's own part.
"Would you care to explain Russia's reasoning in considering itself beholden to some agreement from a government that is considered defunct?" Rupert asked next.
"On the contrary," Anatoly went back on the offensive, "the Japanese government has continued to exist despite the occupation of their homeland, maintaining offices thanks to the shelter offered them by the Chinese Federation. Russia too has maintained diplomatic ties."
"To the extent of full diplomatic recognition?" Rupert pressed.
Again Anatoly refrained from offering an immediate response, likely because he knew that publicly committing Russia to such a stance in these chambers would give the commission president an uncomfortably strong lever to use. Before the various debacles in Japan, the weight of public opinion might have offered a shield, indeed served to even transform that posture into an advantage. Now, every word uttered in commitment to Japan's government-in-exile could well turn into another nail of Russia's own coffin.
"Well, Anatoly?" Rupert said. "I'm waiting for an answer."
The Russian glared furiously at the other man before finally grating out a response. "Yes."
"I see," Rupert said succinctly. "Very well then, the Commission will treat the matter of Russia's military actions in the Far East as that of one nation fulfilling its treaty obligations to that of another sovereign state."
A look of surprise flashed across Anatoly's face at the seeming concession, before quickly morphing into one of great wariness. And the Russian had every right to be so wary, for official recognition by the EU came with it also a rigidity in the EU's own treatment of the situation.
"The EU recognizes the rights of its sovereign members to engage in diplomatic relations outside of the Union's bounds," said Union's president began anew, "to establish unilateral instead of bilateral agreements when such suit the needs and wants of said members. At the same time, safeguards exist to ensure that such agreements cannot be used by individual members to circumvent their responsibilities and obligations to the Union, as well as unilaterally commit the Union as a whole to a course of action that has not been agreed upon by other members. So while it is entirely within Russia's prerogative to employ military force in the defense of what it considers a sovereign treaty partner, the extent of that treaty's obligations, and consequences, rests solely with Russia."
In other words, the European Union as an institution considered itself no way obliged to assist Russia in the prosecution of its conflict with Britannia.
"Respectfully, Rupert, I must disagree," Anatoly said.
Well this should at least be entertaining, whatever the Russian commissioner's purported rationale was.
"And why do you believe that?" Rupert responded, not entirely bothering to keep a slight condescending impatience from dripping into his tone.
An unpleasant smile crossed Anatoly's face, as if the man was fully confident of whatever leap of logic he was about to spring. Having worked with the man for so long, Rupert gave it no better than a fifty-fifty chance that it was all bluster regardless.
"The Russian Federation's actions in fulfilling our treaty obligations to Japan do not constitute an act of military aggression against Britannia," so declared a Russian. "Indeed, in this, as in countless prior cases, the Empire is unequivocally the aggressor. As such, by definition, any action Britannia takes in response to Russia's fulfillment of its treaty obligations is an act of aggression by the Empire."
It was blindingly obvious where Anatoly was trying to take this, as the provisions of the EU treaty on mutual defense defined within its requirements that a member state be subject to aggression within its sovereign territory as a precondition before other members were obliged to render assistance. Right now the fighting was confined to just Japan, but it was very early days yet, and it was entirely possible that the Empire, if it succeeded in evicting the Chinese and Russian forces, would pursue an offensive campaign against those two nations as well. Were that to happen, Russia was clearly determined to try to bring the rest of the EU into the war.
To say that such an interpretation of current events was legalistically problematic would be considerably underselling the massive political and diplomatic kerfuffle that would be kicked off if Russia actually tried to invoke the mutual defense clauses on such a pretext. From the open glares many of the other commissioners were giving, few of them were inclined to go along with it. Even those commissioners Anatoly had clearly worked on beforehand looked uncomfortable or uncertain.
"I'm afraid there is nothing unequivocable about that, Anatoly," Rupert responded.
"I beg to differ," the Russian immediately countered. "There can be no doubt whatsoever that-"
"Repeating a point does not make it any more true than the first time, or even the last time," Rupert brusquely cut off the Russian commissioner. "And the fact of the matter is the EU does have provisions in place for what constitutes aggression when military action is conducted on behalf of a non-member third party. The Russian Federation may believe itself to have some sort of treaty obligation to Japan, of which it has not submitted the full texts as required under EU law, I'll remind you, but no other member nation is obliged to share in this obligation, and if Russia ends up in some misadventure because of its external, unilateral agreement with external parties, our own laws are clear on when and to what limit the rest of Europe is obliged to render assistance."
Which was a longwinded way of signaling that the EU was not prepared to lend credence to the idea that Britannia was the aggressor in this conflict, as far as the terms of its own laws went. And if Britannia was not the aggressor, then the rest of the EU was not obliged to lend Russia assistance if its own aggressions provoked a direct attack upon Russian soil.
"Do you mean to say," Anatoly leaned over the table, "that the EU would abandon Russia in its time of need?"
"On the contrary," Rupert responded, eliciting more looks of surprise. "The EU as an institution will do its utmost to bring about a diplomatic resolution to the current conflict, to which end committing to any acts that might be construed as escalation would be counterproductive. While the EU possesses a legal obligation to ensure the territorial integrity of its member nations, each member in turn possesses reciprocal obligations to not pursue unilateral objectives that would endanger that integrity. A failure by a member state to maintain this reciprocity would, under the EU's own legal code, constitute a deliberate, and automatic, relinquishment of the privileges membership entails."
For how matter-of-factly Rupert enumerated all this, there was a steely edge behind his tone and a hard glint in his eyes. The EU president had not ascended to his present station without having earned his spurs in the trenches of the Union's political and bureaucratic circles, making the man intimately familiar with the ins and outs of the laws and regulations it was his responsibility to execute. That meant anyone that tried the game those very same laws and regulations needed to tread very carefully, lest Rupert turned their machinations right back at them, as he was doing now.
"You would allow the tyranny of Britannia to stand on a technicality of European law?" Anatoly however was not willing to concede. "To allow their despotic imperialism to become the standard of the world order? What purpose, if not the preservation of the right to sovereign self-rule by a nation's people, does the European project exist for?"
"The defense of the common European interest," Rupert again cut the Russian off. "The European Union may be the standard bearer of the liberal democratic order, but we are not the sword and shield of it. The foremost priority of the Union is and always has been the implementation of the collective common good of its member states. While preserving the sovereignty of like-minded nations outside of the Union is a worthy aspiration, it remains just that, an aspiration, not a legally mandated priority."
In some ways, Rupert's declaration came off as a rather self-centered prioritization of European self-interest. In others though, it reflected a rather pragmatic perspective on the limits of what the EU's member states, and their electorates, were willing or even capable of pursuing. It was one thing to run developmental programs or even sell arms and the like to non-member polities. It was another thing entirely to ask Europe's citizens to bleed and die in defense of a people that, if the recent developments were any indication, did not even want such help anymore.
"Now, assuming we have gotten that particular misconception out of the way," Rupert said, meeting Anatoly's glare with a nonplussed expression, "as I previously stated, the EU is prepared to commit the fullness of its resources to see a diplomatic resolution to this conflict. We will certainly do everything that we can, but considering the circumstances that have developed already, the Empire is certainly going to demand concessions for a cessation of hostilities, and don't even try to pretend they wouldn't have cause to, not when the opening strike against them saw one of their princesses murdered."
"The Russian Federation had no direct involvement with the entirely justified uprising that the Japanese people launched in Tokyo," Anatoly ground out.
"And which the Japanese people themselves substantially also helped crushed," Rupert immediately reposted. "That is the extent of the debacle your country and the Chinese are facing, Anatoly. You've launched a war of aggression, yes, a war of aggression, on a pretext that didn't even survive the first day of fighting. The Empire is going to demand its pound of flesh and it will likely hurt, a lot. But so long as those demands do not constitute any loss of Russian sovereignty as defined by the EU's own laws, then the EU will consider its obligations in ensuring Russian sovereignty fulfilled."
A dangerous, almost crazed glint flashed in Anatoly's eyes.
"And if the Russian Federation disagrees?"
"Then the Russian Federation can enjoy facing the full consequences of its unilateral actions, alone."
The Russian commissioner's face was quickly darkening into a rather strong shade of red, though his lips remained thinned instead of twisting into an open scowl.
"If the European Union indeed proves itself as, unreliable," Anatoly spat out the word, "as your words purport, it might well be time for the Russian Federation to consider exactly where its destiny lays."
A far from subtle threat of a Russian exit from the European Union. And while Rupert doubted it was entirely a bluff, the Russians did have to account for the very genuine risk that enough of Europe might actually be happy to see the back of them. Even setting aside the recent discord, a mere seventy odd years was not nearly long enough for the memories of the Great War to fade away.
Before Rupert could issue yet another pithy retort, the door to the conference room opened and an aide hurried over to the president's side. The words whispered saw Rupert's jaw tighten, something not lost upon the other commissioners.
"Mesdames et Messieurs," he began anew. "It would seem we are not the only ones deliberating about the events unfolding in the far east." Rupert's eyes were squarely locked upon his Russian counterpart's. "The Britannian government has announced that a joint session of parliament is to be held today, with a motion being tabled for a declaration of war against the Chinese Federation, and the Russian Federation."
The room in the air stilled. The Russians might have called their expedition a "special military operation," but it seemed the Empire was determined to treat it as what it really was, war. The precipice that all of them had sighted was now approaching rapidly.
Ling looked around the room, noting the various differences between it and such a chamber back in China. Conference rooms the world over all were of similar layouts, but their styling could usually tell you something about the culture behind whatever people built this place. After seven years of occupation, it was hardly surprising that the room was decorated in Britannian regalia, though the flag itself had been pulled down and replaced by the flag of the rising sun. However long before the flags changed again, Ling suspected it to be shorter than the man seated at the head of the table wanted to believe.
"Since this morning we have successfully landed three divisions, two infantry and one armored," General Cao's voice droned on, "with another division in the process of being shipped over. If things go to plan, I expect they will be engaging the enemy come tomorrow."
"That is good," Atsushi Sawazaki, prime minister of Japan's not quite government in exile said. "The sooner we can sweep the invaders and traitors aside, the sooner Japan will once more be free."
Tempting as it was, Ling suppressed a smirk, for while he had objectives of his own that did not necessarily align with the successful liberation of Kyushu, neither did he outright wish for his country and countrymen's defeat. Still, for all the brave faces that Cao and Atsushi tried to put on, the prospect of defeat indeed loomed large.
"Do we have a firm estimate of the opposing side yet?" Ling asked.
Cao gave a grunt. "The level of contacts we've experienced suggest most of the Britannian mechanized division was able to withdraw in good order after the fall of Fukuoka Base. As for the Japanese collaborators, we only began engaging them in strength yesterday, so our numbers there are more speculative. Still, I would place their strength at regiment level in infantry, and if the reports are to believed, potentially upward of a battalion of knightmares, of all things."
The number of additional infantry was bad enough, especially if they really were from the Japanese Liberation Front and thus veterans of the defunct Japanese Armed Forces. Even worse however was the sudden appearance of so much enemy armor, something Ling suspected Cao was still undercounting, if due to fog of war if nothing else. Atsushi remained silent, as if refraining from acknowledging them would somehow make go away the fact that the JLF, the largest and most powerful of the resistance movements that nominally opposed the Britannian occupation, had gone over to the Empire's side. The man was not quite in denial, but neither did he seem capable of forming any cognizant or useful suggestions as to how to deal with this development, aside from "sweeping the traitors aside." As if the Chinese Federation was not attempting to do just that, and having a thoroughly rough time of it at that.
"It sounds like we'll need substantially more reinforcements if we are to achieve the sort of three-to-one advantage an attacker should have to be confident of victory," Ling remarked. "Right now, we seem a bit closer to parity than I find myself comfortable with."
When the Chinese Federation began its preparations for the invasion of Kyushu in earnest, it had operated under the assumption that opposing them would be a singular Britannian mechanized division along with its supporting air elements. As far as assumptions went, it was not nearly as presumptuous as it might have first seemed. After all, every intelligence report China had indicated that the Empire was prioritizing Honshu and Hokkaido over Kyushu, and even if the Empire decided to shift reinforcements from the main Japanese island after the invasion commenced, such a transfer would still have taken time. From that perspective, the three divisions earmarked for the initial incursion seemed adequate enough for the opening stages, assuming the marines were able to seize a port for them to disembark. At worst, they still should have made credible gains while the second wave of reinforcements were being ferried over.
Instead, as a consequence of the JLF bolstering the Britannian ranks, the Chinese Federation found themselves facing off an enemy force that might actually match them numerically. And while this combined force did seem ad hoc in many regards, it still had been enough to stymie any further advances by Chinese forces beyond the outer limits of Fukuoka City. Only now were Chinese elements, reinforced by the recently unloaded armor, pushing further south towards Kurume. Whether they would succeed in overcoming the defensive perimeter the combined Japanese-Britannian forces had dug into along the way was still very much an open question. Ling knew Cao was counting a great deal on his infantry's ability to move undetected through the southern forests to bypass and flank the enemy lines, but Ling was not about to underestimate their enemies as to bet on that. Or the fickleness of the goddess of fortune, for that matter.
"Worry not, Your Highness," Cao tried to put on a self-assured air. "Even as our forces push southward, reinforcements are already in the process of being ferried over. Another three divisions are scheduled to land over the next few days, which should grant us a substantial numerical advantage over our enemies, whoever they may be. And more will follow, however many are necessary."
Ling did not take the boast literally, as he knew quite well the limits of the forces China had managed to muster for this operation. Short of conducting a general mobilization, which would have handed the Empire a casus belli all by itself, the Federation only had so many divisions that it could divert without compromising its security in other parts of the country. A total of ten divisions, numbering over a hundred thousand troops, had been allocated the Kyushu campaign, with half that number, on account of the Russian contribution, to the Hokkaido offensive. Those fifteen divisions represented some of the best trained and equipped of China's standing forces, on par with anything that the Empire might have deployed on an individual basis. More could be called upon, but this initial number had been arrived at as a consequence of both genuine manpower constraints as well as the logistical limits of how many troops China could actually keep supplied, even this short a distance from the Asian mainland, a limitation that Cao had alluded to multiple times over, if only unintentionally.
Even with the ferries and ships sailing nonstop, it had still taken China the better part of two days to get three divisions landed on Kyushu. And with every pair of boots they put on the island, every truck, tank, and even plane, they added to the tally of people and things that needed to be kept supplied. Ammo, fuel, parts, even food all needed to be shipped or flown in. The Empire had dispersed most of their munition stocks away from Fukuoka Base, so even setting aside the different calibers used by each side's guns, there was precious little to pillage from the base's capture. Food, sure the soldiers could scavenge in the city, there was as yet plenty of food, but that would only last for a few more days before the disruption in the local commercial supply chain would start causing shortages. Ling would not be surprised if people were already hoarding, and trying to confiscate from civilian stores would only give rise to a resentment they really could not afford right now. All this meant more and more of the cubage aboard the ships and planes needed to be set aside to supply the units already on the island instead of bringing new combat power. And already, those same ships and planes were not returning empty, with plenty of wounded and wrecked equipment being sent back to the mainland. For all that this was only the third day of fighting, the ferocity of it was chewing through men and equipment at an alarming rate.
"What of the Britannian fleets?" Ling asked. "Have they still not made any movements?"
"No," Cao said, actually grimacing. "It is, somewhat baffling, that the Empire has yet to commit their naval assets to battle, especially after rushing their Third Fleet across the Pacific. Numerically, their combined forces would outnumber either of our expeditionary fleets individually, though somewhat less so for the Hokkaido force."
Which meant if the Britannians followed conventional doctrine, they were more liable to strike at the East Sea Fleet supporting the Kyushu operation. If the Empire was able to destroy the East Sea Fleet, or even force it back from the island, that would strand those soldiers already landed, at which point unless a miracle happened those troops would be forced to eventually capitulate.
"Then perhaps it behooves us to arrange for naval reinforcements of our own," Atsushi spoke up.
Cao's grimace deepened. "Would that we could. The South Sea Fleet is functionally pinned in place by the Empire's Fifth Fleet, down in the Philippines. Any attempt by them to move northward now would be contested, with no guarantee they could actually break through the blockade intact to reinforce us."
"It might have served to have summoned them beforehand," the Japanese man said.
"I'm afraid that was never a real option," Ling said, offering a genial smile. "Even assuming the Empire would have let such movement go unanswered, taking the South Sea Fleet so far off station would have left that entire region completely exposed to that very same Fifth Fleet. While China is committed to the liberation of Japan, allowing the Empire such free reign to strike at our southern regions would not serve our shared goals."
Atsushi did not look convinced, but at least knew better than to openly express those feelings.
"I defer to your judgment regarding China's own needs," he instead said diplomatically.
"Still, there is still a substantial risk that we may not have quite appreciated when the decision to have Your Highness and Your Excellency accompany the second set of boats," Cao said, eyeing Ling specifically. "We had hoped that such a show of confidence and solidarity might inspire the Japanese people to further rise up against their oppressors, but lamentably it appears we, miscalculated in that regard."
Atsushi gave a sniff. "What are you suggesting, General?"
Cao now looked at the Japanese man. "While I remain confident in our eventual victory, it would be derelict of me to not have a realistic appraisal of the current threat environment. As things stand, if an untoward development were to occur, the, margin, with which your respective safeties could be assured is thinner than I am comfortable with." And back at Ling. "It might be sensible for the two of you to withdraw, to if not the mainland, then at least to the fleet."
While Ling maintained his usual affable expression, Atsushi's eyes narrowed.
"Are you suggesting that we run away, General?" he asked.
Cao looked over at the Japanese bureaucrat again. "I am suggesting that, on balance, the harm that our mutual cause would suffer if something were to happen to Your Excellency is starting to outweigh the benefit we gain from your presence here on the frontline. As you yourself have noted in the past, Your Excellency, you are not a military man, you are a statesman. Your greatest contributions come before the shooting starts, and after it stops. Now that the shooting has started, it is the duty of military men such as myself to ensure you remain whole until it stops."
Ling had to give Cao some credit, the general could be quite artful with his words, which in the prince's opinion marked him as a far better statesman than Atsushi had shown himself to be. The way in which Atsushi's expression so visibly displayed his internal deliberations further lent weight to that impression. The Japanese man was clearly struggling with his desire for personal safety and what leaving Japan now would do to his image as his country's nominal liberator.
"I find merit in your arguments," Atsushi finally said, apparently choosing self-preservation. "Still, I would not like to be too far removed after so recently setting foot in my homeland."
"Quarters can be arranged on the flagship," Cao said, "such that when the situation allows it, you can be quickly returned."
Atsushi considered that for another moment before nodding. Now the general's attention fell squarely upon Ling.
"I appreciate your concern, General, truly," Ling said. "However, unlike our august prime minister here, I actually am a military man. There are yet means for me to discharge my uniformed duties, of that I am certain."
The general regarded Ling for a bit before giving a firm, even approving nod. China had a long history of feckless princes, so having one display even a modicum of responsibility was nothing to be sniffed at. Before Cao could express further that sentiment however, a distant boom rumbled. Then another, and another. The three men immediately rushed out of the conference room to discover what new disaster might be unfolding.
The forty-odd warships of the Chinese East Sea Fleet were parked within spitting distance of Fukuoka, both to support the soldiers fighting south of the city and to ensure the line of communications between the island and the Asian mainland remained open. While the past few days had seen the fleet mostly occupied by the former, no one was under any illusions that they would have a fight on their hands for the latter as well. As the afternoon sun shined down upon the fleet, that fight came to them as the fleet's radars suddenly came under intense jamming. Their operators duly responded, going through the list of countermeasures to compensate as well as searching for the source of the interference. While the East Sea Fleet did not have a carrier accompanying them like the North Sea Fleet, enough of the Fukuoka Base airstrip had been repaired to allow a small complement of fighters to operate out of there. If they could determine a vector for the source of the jamming, those fighters might be able to bring it down, or at least force it away far enough to restore full functionality. That was the plan, or hope, at least. The next set of alarms showed how optimistic those hopes were.
The warnings about incoming missiles caused tension to spike across the fleet, but still the Chinese sailors otherwise kept their cool. Air defense systems worked to triangulate on the incoming missiles, though the jamming was seriously degrading the quality of their acquisitions. Even so, defensive missiles lit off and rose into the air, doing their best to lock onto their opposing numbers. Explosions here and there dotted the air, marking a few successes, but the traversal of the point defense turrets indicated clearly that not all had been hit. A quick burst of gunfire, all the turrets had time for at their engagement range, resulted in no further detonations. Instead, a series of explosions rocked multiple Chinese destroyers. None appeared on the verge of sinking from the hits, but the billowing smoke from atop their masts revealed a grievous injury nonetheless. All of the hits had been on the radar emitters of the respective ships, and while only a portion of the fleet had been hit, every single one was of the larger, more capable combatants. This strike was intended to try to blind the Chinese fleet, and while this was far from a total success, the exchange could still be counted as in the Empire's favor.
As the Chinese forces hurried to try to compensate for this diminishing of their capabilities, alarms sounded anew as the second string of the Empire's bow was loosed. Over five hundred new contacts appeared on those radar systems still functioning, far closer than they would have managed without the combination of the jamming and damaged systems. Quickly identified as long-range cruise missiles, such numbers almost certainly represented a significant chunk of the actively deployed munitions aboard the Britannian warships. If the Empire was throwing this many at the Chinese fleet, then they clearly intended this to be a decisive engagement. Every available defensive missile launched, in a concreted, almost desperate effort to winnow down the incoming storm. That effort was rewarded as the number of contacts dropped at a rapid clip, but even so, plenty broke through to the final line of defense. With many of their point defense turrets already run down from the previous strike, little fire rose in this final sprint, as much larger fireballs erupted all across the Chinese fleet. The payloads on these missiles were much larger that that of the prior strike, with hits shattering hull and carving deep gouges into each ship. Some broke apart entirely, subject to multiple impacts. Others somehow managed to stay afloat, but for how much longer with fires raging was anyone's guess. All this, and the East Sea Fleet had yet to even see the adversary that had so maimed yet. That too however began to change as another thunderous roar filled the air.
Despite the loud announcement of their presence, to the consternation of those ships still functional, their radars caught but fleeting glimpses of the planes that were now above them. While the existence of the Britannian Empire's fifth generation stealth aircraft was hardly a secret, few could claim to have ever gone up against their capabilities. Even fewer lived to share that experience. Exactly how many fighters were above them, the Chinese sailors might have had more luck counting by sight instead of trying to rely on their radars, especially as the jamming had actually intensified with the approaching roar of engines. That suggested to at least some that the stealth fighters themselves were mounting jamming pods, which if so was very much a previously unobserved capability. Not that they had much time to muse over such possibilities as the fighters revealed what other payloads they were carrying. Another wave of explosions washed over the fleet from the bombs released by the fighters, demonstrating that they had strike capabilities as well. In a way, the East Sea Fleet was obtaining a wealth of data about the tactical capabilities of whatever fighter the Empire was employing against them. There may even be survivors that would make it back to China to share these discoveries with their compatriots, enabling the Federation to be better prepared in the future. The prospects of them arriving back in time to make a difference this war diminished drastically as well beyond the visible horizon, the origins of the massive strike against the Chinese East Sea Fleet neared.
Aboard the flag bridge of the Empress Claire, Nonette Enneagram, the Knight of Nine, surveyed the destruction wrought by the Mighty Eighth being projected on the tactical display. There was a certain artistry, in orchestrating the destruction of one's enemies without them being able to even hit back. While some might consider such one-sided slaughter lacking in chivalry, Nonette personally felt no compunctions about it. Chivalry after all was a romanticization that came about after war was over. True knights defeated their enemies with whatever means were necessary. Sometimes that meant slaughtering them to the man, and sometimes not. Which it would be this day was yet to be determined, but the Empire had arguably gotten a good start with the former.
"A most impressive bird the Rounds have, Dame Nonette," Admiral Merkatz, commanding officer of Eighth Fleet, remarked. "I look forward to when I'll have a squadron of Griffins for my own carrier wing."
A fierce smirk crossed Nonette's face. "Aren't they? I was kind of surprised His Majesty passed over the Raptors and Panthers for the Rounds to wait for the Griffins, but with this, I can see why."
The F-35 Griffin was the third fifth generation fighter the Holy Britannian Empire had designed and put into service, having been declared combat operational just the past year. As the mismatched nature of its eponym alluded to, the F-35 was conceived of as a multi-role fighter, capable of both air superiority and ground strike missions. While the Griffin built upon the common avionics architecture that originated from the F-22 and F-23 designs, it also took full advantage of every piece of new technology that had been developed since. And the heart that made it possible for the Griffin to fulfill all its intended roles without massive compromises was its Yggdrasil core, which provided substantially more power than any conventional airplane powerplant. In many respects, the Griffin was probably the closest thing to a flying knightmare as the Empire was likely to practically achieve in the near future. It certainly helped that the fighter was actually aerodynamically shaped, mimicking the overall form of the Raptor but in a more compact package.
The other notable feature of the Griffin was of course, lacking a conventional jet engine for a powerplant, it needed some other means of propulsion. This was provided by a miniaturized float system, which actually served as the basis for the float system Camelot had tacked onto the Lancelot prototype. The benefits of this were manifold, providing full vertical takeoff and landing capabilities, impressive maneuverability akin to the thrust vectoring of the previous set of fifth-gen fighters, while also eliminating the outlets that were the primary source of heat infrared seekers locked onto. That combined with the new generation stealth coating made the Griffin an exceedingly hard target to find and kill, all the better conditions under which the Griffin could employ its own manifold claws.
As the strike against the East Sea Fleet demonstrated, the F-35 had a fairly wide arsenal at its disposal. From the initial jamming to the bombing runs, minus the cruise missiles, everything else had been delivered by the Griffins. Indeed their stealth capabilities played a significant role in the fighters being able to launch as close as they did the anti-radiation missiles that knocked out several of the ship radars. A few of the more adventurous pilots had even gotten low to take potshots with the small railgun they mounted, and while said railgun was more intended as a final resort dogfighting gun, it still packed enough of a punch to blow through the thinner skins of the upper superstructures of the Chinese ships.
All in all, the Griffin was an extremely maneuverable and stealthy fighter, leaps and bounds more capable than even its immediate predecessors. All it was really missing to be considered an outright flying Lancelot was a Blaze Luminous shield, but not even the Empire's engineering prowess was capable of jamming that particular bit of kit within the Griffin's power envelope, for now. And all this delivered on time and on budget too. In many ways the real miracle managed by the Holy Britannian Empire was less its military conquests or technological breakthroughs, but proper project management. While the first batch of combat ready Griffins had been allocated to the Knights of the Round, the other service branches that flew fixed-wing aircraft were already salivating over the prospect of receiving their own squadrons. For now though, they would need to settle for the toys they already had, which were by no means lacking either.
"Targeting solutions for the fleet locked in, Admiral," another bridge officer reported.
Merkatz nodded. "You may fire when ready."
The Britannian Eighth Fleet was a mighty thing, centered around the Empress Claire Albion-class flying carrier, with two Logres-class battleships and four Caerleon-class destroyers as escorts. Mounted on those six other warships was not only enough vertical launching system cells for the barrage of cruise missiles unleashed against the East Sea Fleet, but also large, powerful railguns that outranged pretty much any conventional cannon employed by the navies of the rest of the world. Even before the East Sea Fleet had been so decimated, Eighth Fleet likely could have shelled it with near impunity at range, save for the cruise missiles that the Chinese destroyers themselves carried. But the majority of those were sinking into the ocean with their broken ships, and what still remained afloat was too uncoordinated to attempt a meaningful counterattack. Even those few scant survivors however soon ran out of time as Eighth Fleet opened fire again.
It was with a warm sense of satisfaction that Nonette watched the destruction of the East Sea Fleet be completed. Without it, the Chinese forces on Kyushu were now without both fire and logistical support. The airspace above the island would also soon return to being a purely Britannian domain. If the enemy divisions already landed had any sense, they would surrender sooner rather than later faced with such circumstances. If they did not, well, Nonette was not above making them rue that error in judgment.
"Well Admiral," the knight said, "it looks like your boys and girls have handled their part splendidly. Now it's my turn."
Merkatz nodded. "A transport is already waiting for you on the deck. Good hunting, Dame Nonette. I pray you will find swift victory this day."
With a click of her heels, Nonette took her leave of the flag bridge and headed for the flight deck. Already, the aerial troop transports carrying her oversized regiment were beginning their descent, under escort by a squadron of Panthers from the Empress Claire's air wing. When those troops set foot on Kyushu, Nonette intended to be right there with them.
End of Chapter 66
I ended up shuffling things around a bit just to break up the pacing. The military stuff, while important, is really only a means toward the narrative end I'm working on. By and large I think I enjoy writing the political/social set pieces more than I do the military ones. The military ones have fewer mental gymnastics that need to be jumped through to achieve a desired end, but require a surprising amount of mental bookkeeping, as it were, to keep track of all the moving pieces, and ends up being more tiring to work through, despite their necessity. I also enjoy the mini-dumps that talk about the technical background of the weapons and systems used, but that's probably due to my engineering background.