Central Military Command Bunker
City of Su’Cheng, The Soodean ImperiumSupreme Commander Kyodan walked briskly along the dark hallway, shuddering slightly in the cold, filtered air. Most stretches of the Su’Cheng tunnels were walled by bare, reinforced concrete and lit by fluorescent lights, giving them a starkly industrial feeling that Kyodan found ugly but at least familiarly comforting. Through some elegant flight of fancy, however, the designers had chosen to line the innermost stretches of the bunker complex with curved steel plates, and to light them with dim, blue-green panels. It wasn’t for nothing that the regular staff referred to these areas as “the spaceship.”
The vacuum of space was hardly on the Supreme Commander’s mind as he continued to stride ahead, trying to suppress the thought of how many tons of rock must be pressing down on the reinforced tunnel walls. The CMC Bunker was one of several facilities which ran far and deep under the roots of Mount Ourei, shielded from ground-penetrating bombs by two hundred meters of earth and stone. But this extra layer of safety didn’t do much to reassure Kyodan, who had never felt comfortable in these dimly lit depths. The stomach-churning elevator descent, the claustrophobic stretches of underground halls, and now the feeling that he was lost in some science-fiction movie set. The ‘90s had been an ambitious time for the young Soodean regime, certainly, but the Supreme Commander wished the tunnel architects had chosen something a little more mundane.
Dismissing his bothered thoughts yet again, Kyodan dragged himself back to the present and saw that he was nearing the end of the hall. In a swift and familiar motion, he pulled the identification card from his belt and ran it over the security plate beside the polished double doors, only to see the control panel flash yellow. A gripping pressure of irritation stabbed at his temples; he swiped the card again, but to no avail. The elevated DEFCON level normally brought about a tightening of clearance for lower-level officials, but a Supreme Commander had free passage through all but a few areas of the facility. As he readied his card a third time, he noticed a line of new instructions on the keypad, and for a moment he felt ready to punch the screen in frustration. Instead, he leaned forward until his nose was only a few millimeters from the wall, and tried to resist rolling his eyes as a glimmer of light swept over his pupils.
Leave it to those self-obsessed morons to use a bloody retinal scanner as emergency protocol, he thought to himself as the double doors slid open and revealed the Central Military Command Room.
If the rest of the hallways had exhibited a “spaceship” feel, then the CMCR took the connection above and beyond. The large floor was dominated by a table screen showing the Southwestern Strategic Zone and the northern areas of Firmador; a larger version of the same screen was mounted high on the far wall, with smaller displays on the other walls showing magnified areas of interest. Kyodan shuddered at the thought of how much money must have gone into the construction of these fanciful electronics during a time when front-line forces were still using equipment several decades old. Certainly, all these polished walls and glowing screens couldn’t have bought more than a fighter jet or two, but the Supreme Commander didn’t care much for superfluity. Plain, minimal simplicity – that was a truly beautiful virtue.
Several of the two dozen or so high-ranking officers in the room turned to salute the new arrival, but given the pressure they had been under for the last few days, their motions were a tad sluggish. On a formal occasion Kyodan would have had little patience for half-hearted salutes, but right now, he took it as a sign that the others were under as much pressure as he was. And if there was one thing the Supreme Commander took pride in, it was the knowledge that his subordinates were ready to work day and night to ensure that every last detail of the plan fell into place.
“Status report,” he called out, heading to the front of the room. “How is the mobilization coming along? Are we still keeping up with our deadlines?”
“Mobilization is proceeding at a rapid pace, sir,” General Karong of the Fifth Army reported. “The Fourth and Eighth Armies along the border with Firmador were being kept at 90% readiness before this crisis started, and the gaps are just about full. Reserve personnel are being flown in to fill the remaining manpower gaps, and stored equipment is being allocated to its formations. Additional divisions are also being brought into the area by rail, to support the spreading of forces after Phase A of the offensive is complete.”
“I don’t want to hear that there’s a ‘rapid pace,’ I want to hear whether the deadlines are being met,” Kyodan replied.
Marshal Mishi stepped forward before Karong could speak. “Projections for moving in the additional divisions appear to have been overly optimistic,
Dai-Guntsou. Train schedules have been running at the upper safety limits of transit density, and it still looks like we could need up to 36 additional hours to deliver all the necessary freight.”
“Then tell the railroad planners to cross over those upper limits. If the Second Group of Armies isn’t already in following position when Phase A completes, our flanks and rear will be left exposed during Phase B. Anything else?”
“Nothing more,
Dai-Guntsou. While there are reports of small-scale unit delays and supply misallocations, overall mobilization of the Southwestern Strategic Zone appears to have surpassed some of our initial estimates. All evidence suggests that all elements of the Fifth and Sixth Armies will be in their planned positions within the next two days.”
“Excellent. What about the aviation elements?”
Major-General Fulun stepped forward here, glad to speak at last. “The new circumstances of the Firmadorian military have required a change of targets, but my staff have already finished planning the new schedule of strikes. In the opening stages of the operation, the Air Corps of the Fourth and Eighth Armies will execute coordinated strikes with the support of the Southwest Strategic Zone’s Air Army. Special priority will be given to destroying any aircraft still parked on the ground, and cratering all airfields more than 100 kilometers from the border. We will also attempt to identify and suppress their remaining long-range air defenses in two initial corridors, opening up high-altitude routes of access to the Firmadorean hinterland.”
One of the Army officers took advantage of the Major-General’s pause to ask a question. “That’s an awfully deep corridor to force, Fulun. Wouldn’t it be easier to bypass the Northeastern Area altogether?”
“It’s been considered, General, but the risks are too great. The Navy’s Carrier and Amphibious Battlegroups will be able to provide air support to the far Northeast and Southwest sectors of the advance, but any flights over the area around Isla Diamante will leave the pilots and planes at great risk if the Ausitorians decide to commence hostilities. We’ve already taken enough precautions to defend against an Ausitorian aerial incursion. As for the landward bypass, Aerial SIGINT in the Northeast Strategic Zone has picked up evidence of major Maverican troop movements near the border, which means that for the time being we cannot assume Maverica will be cooperative.”
“
Shoht,” the same Army officer swore. “You don’t think we’ll be pressed into all three War Scenarios at once, do you?”
“It’s a possibility that I’ve considered many times,” Supreme Commander Kyodan mused. “And, as severe as it may be, it’s a possibility I cannot dismiss. Everything will be dependent on the speed with which the Army can secure Firmador’s southeast coastline. If we can do that, we just might pose a chance of regaining immediate control over the Meditethrhean Theatre. What happens after that is up to chance.”
“And that’s where the efforts of the Army’s sub-branches enter into the equation,” High General Kenzei added. “With the relocation of the 214th Division from the Northern Strategic Zone, we now have two fully reinforced Airborne Divisions and all their associated assets on station in the Southwestern Strategic Zone, in addition to the three Airborne Brigades already in the area. Two Combat Special Forces brigades have also been activated. Once air superiority is secured – something that shouldn’t take long given the fragmented status of the Firmadorean military – these elements will be deployed into the enemy’s strategic rear, where they will attempt to meet up with sympathetic combatant groups, secure control of intact airfields, and further compromise the enemy’s command and control infrastructure.”
High Admiral Tsur stepped ahead now, not ready to be outdone. “Further support will be provided by the ISN. Six Amphibious Battle Groups are already in transit to the east coast, where they will land near the old Capital and Warlord “Umber.” Conventional opposition for this force is expected to be much lower, as the areas are under warlord control and the six landed Brigades will have support from Naval Aviation. Nonetheless, these two maneuvers hold vital strategic value for our long-term plans: securing the old Capital, opening a naval supply link for the Republica del Sud movement, and establishing an initial foothold across the strait from Isla Diamante.”
A brief silence followed, and a few intrigued glances flicked back and forth in the pale light of the screens. It wasn’t that the officers were surprised by this news; all had read the reports beforehand. Indeed, it was because they had read the reports that they suspected what was soon coming.
At last, after seeing that nobody else was willing to step forward, General Karong cleared his throat and turned to face Tsur. “With all due respect, High Admiral, I am concerned at the risk that this part of the operation will involve. This path of approach will require us to move our ships through the midst of the patrolling Ausitorian fleets, and to maintain a supply line that wraps through their collective battlespace. If they decide to attack us, the damage to our fleets will be catastrophic.”
“I would even take this a step further,” added a new voice: that of Aviation Major-General Ulmadar. “Honored Supreme Commander, I am willing to carry out my orders once they are given, but I must raise again the possibility of directing our ordered strike against Isla Diamante itself.”
Tsur scoffed. “This is fool’s talk, Ulmadar, and you know it.”
“It’s no more foolish than what you’re proposing, High Admiral. The longer we leave them there, the deeper they’ll dig in. This could be our one last chance to strike the decisive blow. I make my appeal one last time, Supreme Commander: Focus the attack on Isla Diamante. Fighters, bombers, ballistic missiles, everything we can muster. Deploy the airborne and air-assault troops onto the island as the smoke clears, and land the Marine Infantry to support them. The assault will be costly, but it will cost us far fewer lives than this invasion of Firmador.”
Karong directed his gaze to Ulmadar now, irritation apparent in his eyes. “Surely you see that’s only the initial phase of the attack, Major-General. Keeping our grip on that battered foothold against all the Ausitorian naval assets already in the area will be an impossible battle.”
“It will be no different than if we had invaded Firmador,” Ulmahad insisted. “Except that this way, they won’t have island airbases to bolster their strength. This way, we will hold the initiative.”
“Enough,” Tsur called out, right as General Karong was about to speak. “Major-General, you’re playing a good game by our own rules. But we aren’t playing against ourselves here. We’re playing against a different opponent, one with different strategies, methods, and priorities – a different strategic culture.”
“What does that have to do with this situation?” Ulmadar asked in exasperation.
“It has everything to do with it,” Tsur replied. “The Ausitorians are a proud and powerful nation, but also a cautious one. With revenues and expenses hanging delicately in the balance, they will not commit to war as readily as other powers might. This hesitation, however noble it may seem, will allow us to maneuver into a position from which we can offset their advantages in economic power and quality of equipment.”
Supreme Commander Kyodan nodded in solemn agreement. “Think back to the legend of Chihu Dai. An attack on Isla Diamante would awaken the sleeping bear; but an attack through Firmador will allow us to enter the back door of the cave and place our
Hukenjiang safely at its throat.”
“And strike at it then?” Lao asked.
High Admiral Tsur shook his head. “Nay. If this operation succeeds, Isla Diamante will be more valuable to us in Ausitorian hands than in our own.”
“But if it fails, Isla Diamante will become an even more troublesome thorn in our side,” General Karong noted, taking a step closer to the High Admiral. “I’ve seen the Major-General’s calculations myself. If we are to eliminate the remaining anti-air and aviation assets in Firmador, maintain air superiority, and strike ground targets in pace with the Army’s advance, we will need as many sorties as we can get. The same is true if we choose to attack Isla Diamante and the surrounding fleets. If your predictions prove wrong, and the Ausitorians attack our flank, we may not have the air power to maintain superiority in both operations at once.”
“That is a necessary risk, General. The dangers of failing to counterbalance this change in the status quo are dire.”
“I should hope so, for if we fail, the consequences will be more dire still,” Supreme Commander Kyodan said. “High Admiral, it was with trust in your judgment that I organized this operation. For the last ten years, you have studied the Ausitorian threat and overseen the reorganization of a navy ready to carry out ‘War Plan Red.’ Do you trust your judgment of the Ausitorians’ war-readiness with your career?”
High Admiral Tsur took a step back, closing his eyes and lowering his head slightly into his hand. After a second, he looked up, turning his gaze to the observers’ booth overlooking the room. There, a dark shape cast against the light, stood the silhouette of Emperor Su Dou. Tsur let his mind drift back to that day, to the words of advice the Emperor had given him. In affairs of war and state, reckless risk is the path to collapse. But calculated risk is the path to success. Turning back to face Kyodan, High Admiral Tsur delivered his answer.
“Supreme Commander, I trust my judgment with my life.”
Open Letter to Sir Henry Taylor, Prime Minister of the United Realms of Libraria and Ausitoria,
Written by the Director of Diplomacy and Foreign Affairs on Behalf of the Supreme Emperor, Su DouTo Cooperate with the Righteous Against the Forces of Darkness
To: Esteemed Minister,
We are deeply offended by your refusal to reply to our diplomatic offer put forth some days past. Our Emperor, Su Dou, has taken this as a personal affront to his dignity as a head of state and government. Instead, you went before the press and released a statement to the effect that sovereignty is nullified when the world interest is not in line with the Ausitorian interest. We are not blind; we see clearly that your definition of intervention can be loosely interpreted to justify the removal of threats to Ausitorian security, the promotion of economic liberalization, and the backing up of armed secessionist movements. Our bureau has taken these remarks, and your lack of a letter of reply, as a signal that Ausitoria remains unwilling to make concessions on the placement of offensive bases on Firmadorean soil.
In response to this silence, and to the recent approval of a Rhinoceran military base on Isla Diamante, the Soodean Bureau of International Trade has officially enacted a 10% increase in the base price of any goods to be exported to Libraria-Ausitoria. A further 5% increase has been applied to agricultural products, mined raw materials, textiles, and assembly of electronic goods.
Yet even as we impose these penalties, we wish to keep one foot in the doorway of negotiations. As such, we will continue to purchase Ausitorian exports, and will not revoke the work visas of Soodean migrant laborers in Libraria and Ausitoria. We also promise that our current export restrictions will be ameliorated or lifted if Libraria-Ausitoria immediately rescinds its approval of a Rhinoceran military base on Isla Diamante and sets forth a timetable for the withdrawal of offensive fighter and strike aircraft from the island. We also re-iterate our willingness to support the temporary basing of Ausitorian ships and planes in Soodean ports and airfields, and the willingness of the ISN and the Maritime Border Forces to cooperate on anti-piracy operations in order to keep the Meditethrhean Sea safe for all involved parties.
From:
--Wen Hong, Director of Diplomacy and Foreign Affairs
The Soodean Imperium
Confidential Letter to Stadtholder Maria Veldt,
Stadtholder and Grand Pensionary of the United Provinces of the New LowlandsTo Cooperate with the Righteous Against the Forces of Darkness
To: Honored Stadtholder,
We are pleased to hear that you are answering our calls for aid. We are becoming increasingly concerned by the aggressive rhetoric emanating from Libraria and Ausitoria, and in particular the recent insistence that “the world’s interests are Ausitoria’s interests.” Many in our government are growing concerned that the Ausitorians are deliberately setting the precedent for measures to pressure our government into economic liberalization with the goal of improving world (Ausitorian) prosperity.
Due to the sensitive nature of this situation, and the danger that even with current security measures this letter may fall into the wrong hands, we cannot disclose any detailed information on our current plans until their initial stages are set into motion. We can, however, state that we intend to respond in a manner consistent with your second and third proposals, and that we plan to do so in very short notice.
In order that we can make sure these actions are consistent with Lowlandian and OCST guidelines, we are willing to dispatch a diplomatic representative to your capital in short notice to negotiate on future military measures for the protection of the Meditethrhean Sea States, and all other states of the Eastern Hemisphere, from Libraria and Ausitoria’s sphere of influence.
From:
--Wen Hong, Director of Diplomacy and Foreign Affairs
The Soodean Imperium
“Patriotic Crowds Demonstrate Collective Will of the Soodean People”
Radio Report by “Trubakist” National News StationHonorable viewers! the first host called out, her tone wavering with conviction.
Today, our top story concerns the outpouring of national solidarity against continuing Ausitorian aggression! This morning, tens of thousands of our people gathered in Hongrong square to demonstrate the patriotic honor of Kap’hua province. Waving aloft the banners of the Soodean Imperium, the protesters chanted slogans of national independence, and made it clear to the world that an imperialist presence in the Meng Ma1 will not be tolerated. Such national devotion is not isolated to Shorong City, however; a chain of sympathetic protests soon spread throughout the rest of the country, from major cities to small villages and towns.This resounding show of national fervor should serve as a stark warning to the Imperialist running-dogs who believe that their sphere of influence encompasses the world, and that the world’s interests are the same as theirs, a second, male voice added.
With their voices and their banners, our protesters made it clear that the Soodean People wish with one heart and one mind for forceful vengeance. At the height of several of the most passionate protests, the flags of Fallenrun, Nerod, Rhinocera, and Libraria-Ausitoria were dragged through the mud and burned, a controversial move that signals the People’s defiance.The first host now resumed speaking.
National officials have denied playing any role in instigating these protests, which were organized spontaneously across the country by local communal councils. Indeed, multiple squads of guards wearing the uniforms of the Civil Security Force were placed in a safety perimeter around the Ausitorian Embassy in Su’Cheng, to forestall any attempts to damage the building or bring harm to its occupants. Local officials, however, have come out in support of the popular movement, and in several cities factories and workplaces were closed down early so that the workers could join the crowds outside. We take you now to Hongrong square, where our reporter on the ground is speaking with the protesters in person…“What are you listening to?” First Lieutenant Yamazaki asked. “Is that… is that
Trubakist?”
“Yes,” Lieutenant Michap answered with a groan, turning down the dial on the radio set. He was a stocky, broad-shouldered man, his chin peppered with rough stubble. “I don’t suppose you’d let me get back to it? I’m not too keen on losing track of the news.”
“If it’s news you want, you’re better off with
Informatsiya.” The First Lieutenant spoke in an airy and distant tone, his gaze wandering around the slightly disordered off-duty room.
“
Informatsiya’s concessionist nonsense,” Michap snorted. “Everything they say is watered down so foreigners don’t get upset. If anything,
they’re the one’s spouting propaganda.”
Yamazaki rolled his eyes, making no show of hiding his exasperation. “You can tell yourself these things all you want, but it doesn’t change the truth. Then again, why should I be talking? It’s not my fault that illiterate peasants out of Ronghae Province watch
Trubakist and take it at face value.”
The Lieutenant grimaced, then slowly rose to his feet, a vein twitching in his forehead. “You speak awfully high-and-mighty for a banker’s son out of Kap’hua.”
“An
economic planner’s son - not that you’d know the difference.”
“Banker, planner – either way, you’re money-minded. Just like the Ausitorians. And money-minded people don’t stand half a chance against men who know how to fight.”
“See, this is why soldiers shouldn’t get lost in propaganda,” Yamazaki snapped, turning off the radio. “If you fly into battle thinking like that, you’ll be shot out of the sky in an instant.”
“So says the defeatist who’d turn tail the first chance he gets.”
“It takes a great deal of courage for a pilot of Soodean Military Aviation to show such lack of discipline,” Yamazaki sneered as he stepped closer to Michap.
“You’d better show some discipline yourself,” Michap warned, taking a step closer himself. “I bet the Major will have your hide when he hears you were slandering our State.”
As he spoke, a third figure approached the doorway. “The Major would like to know why he is being used as a tool of threat, Lieutenant.”
“Major Reisu!” Michap nearly lost his balance as he spun around and snapped to his attention. “First Lieutenant Yamazaki was making undisciplined comments about our State, Sir!”
Reisu walked toward the two pilots, his motions slow and restrained. With a dull, inscrutable expression in his eyes, he looked over Yamazaki, then Michap, his gaze resting for a moment on the latter’s wrinkled relief shirt. As soon as he finished, his eyes flicked up and locked with Michap’s. “What is the meaning of Discipline, Lieutenant?”
“Discipline means… um… placing one’s trust in the authority of the Emperor… and executing orders in an organized-”
“Wrong,” Reisu interrupted. A few seconds of silence passed, in which neither of the two lower officers dared to move. Gradually, Reisu raised a finger as though to touch to his chin; then, after a brief hesitation, he reversed the motion and rested his hand on the hilt of his sword. “Discipline is not a word to be thrown around lightly, Lieutenant. Discipline is a mentality, a mode of thought, defined by a readiness to forgo one’s own interests for the benefit of the greater good. All disciplined actions trace back to this line of thought. If you’re going to talk in military terms, Lieutenant, you should remember what those terms mean.” Then, with a sweeping motion, Reisu turned around and walked out of the room, leaving his two subordinates in stunned silence.
“Like it’s my fault,” Michap muttered to himself, raising his voice so that it would still be audible. “If the Ausitorians weren’t so selfish, we wouldn’t be talking in military terms.”
As he strode away down the hall, Major Reisu muttered a response to himself, his voice barely a whisper. “If humankind weren’t so selfish, would we have a need for military terms at all?”
1:
Meng Ma (lit. Southern Ocean): Traditional Soodean term for the Meditethrhean Sea.