by Carlo Zen
Even if they got backup from the Entente Alliance, it probably wouldn’t help very much. Meanwhile, the Northern Sea Fleet may have been small, but it featured a lineup of relatively new models. Its flagship, the Helgoland, was the first of the state-of-the-art Helgoland class. In terms of capital ships, the Channel Fleet would be overwhelmed.
If under those circumstances, the Empire had chosen them as its opponent, even if they ended up getting cut in the process, they could probably have thwarted its aims.
But that hope was only feasible if the imperial fleet chose to meet them for a knife fight. Instead it was futile because the enemy ships were paying them no mind and heading in a different direction. They were leisurely escorting the transport ships north. It was certain—completely certain—that if they landed successfully, the Entente Alliance would fall. So the only time to take a risk was now. They had been lucky to discover them so early.
If they had naively gone out to challenge them to a naval battle unawares, they probably would have been sneak attacked and forced to flee in a panic. Discovering them first was truly good fortune. The problem now was how to handle the situation.
“Request backup from army mages! Send in the patrol boats and do anything necessary to beat a path to the capital ship!”
Will we make it? It only lasted a moment, but the doubt that flitted across the minds of the Channel Fleet Command personnel was serious. Whether or not the Republic’s nightmare of the Entente Alliance collapsing came true hinged on them making it in time. We just have to. They were determined.
“Send out any ship available! Full-power sortie!”
Sadly, they were out of luck.
As they raised fists and were about to advance toward the enemy, they received bad news from the military attaché in the Entente Alliance and understood. They had been too late. And so they swore with all their might that Next time… Next time, we’ll get them.
DECEMBER 4, UNIFIED YEAR 1924, COMMONWEALTH, LONDINIUM, UNDISCLOSED LOCATION
After the shocking report that the Imperial Navy had taken an amphibious force to the Osfjord and launched a decisive landing operation, the atmosphere in the room was unbearably bitter.
The agony of the deteriorating situation was so terrible that it even dashed all hope for the nearing Christmas leave. Contrary to the Commonwealth’s futile wish that the Empire, Republic, and Entente Alliance would just destroy one another, the Empire continued to pile on victories. By virtue of their shared view on the situation, the entire group of people connected to the Commonwealth’s intelligence agency had fallen to the gloom. But the office itself wasn’t out of sorts. The unpleasantness of the situation was due to the foul mood of the office’s chief occupant, Major General Donald Habergram, which was permeating the room to a preposterous extent. He had a difficult personality to begin with, and now he was especially irritated.
Heads would roll at the first careless remark. The radio operator who saw the next notification that arrived was truly lucky. Normally, delivering a report was as nerve-racking as being shoved into a minefield, but this time was different.
To be blunt—it wasn’t bad news! How many days had it been since he had nearly run like this to inform his superior? Since Dacia had fallen? Of course, since it was his job, he couldn’t be swayed by likes or dislikes, but it was true that there was nothing he hated more than reporting bad news.
“Urgent message from the auxiliary ship Lytol.”
“Let’s hear it.”
Without flinching at the disgruntled tone, he relayed the facts in a straightforward way. They had received reports from their intelligence-collecting ships disguised as civilian vessels as well as their armed merchant cruisers, but out of all the messages, this one was sent at the highest emergency-level priority, even using a onetime pad.
He’d thought it would be exceptionally horrible news, but when he deciphered it, to his surprise, it wasn’t bad, at least. Well, he wasn’t sure if it was something to get very happy about, but anyhow.
“The Entente Alliance is requesting transport of a VIP.”
The content of the request was transporting a VIP. More specifically, the person in question was one of the ten councilors of state who, in practical terms, held the most authority in the nation. Essentially, the Entente Alliance, no longer concerned about appearances, was shedding decorum in order to establish a government in exile. That was much better than the country obediently surrendering to the Empire. And it wasn’t necessarily a wholly bad development in terms of the Commonwealth’s national interests, either.
“…Isn’t that Foreign Office business?”
But to the one receiving the message, it seemed like the matter was out of their jurisdiction. The job of the Foreign Strategy Division was planning and analysis. They were decidedly not a contact point. In fact, they wanted to avoid any actions that could compromise their intelligence gathering, as much as possible. Honestly, they were loath to get involved.
Ordinarily, it was the Foreign Office that accepted diplomatic requests. In the case of the Entente Alliance, the official channel was through the embassy on the ground there. And would the heads of a country really try to negotiate asylum directly with a room in the strategy division of the intelligence agency? It wasn’t unthinkable to assume they must have just contacted the wrong place.
The radio operator understood the higher-ranking officer’s suspicion immediately. He had the same doubts. Still, he had to give a short explanation, even to General Habergram, who hated wasting time.
“Someone from the Entente Alliance Navy made contact personally.”
“Did they find us out? If so, all I can think is that we have a huge security leak somewhere.”
“No, it seems they’ve contacted all our vessels.”
They hadn’t called a ship from the Commonwealth’s intelligence agency. No, the ship just happened to be the auxiliary ship Lytol. Actually, they had tried every vessel stopping at the Entente Alliance.
Though they were deeply concerned about the possibility of an intelligence leak, in this case, the request was simply the natural outcome. Surely the caller was just trying their luck. In that case, however, they were dealing with a bothersome amateur.
“No regard for appearances, hmm? What a bad move. Do you have the list?”
“Here it is. It seems the others were just regular ferries.”
This had to be the worst way to go about it. If you seek help indiscriminately, word will definitely get out somehow. As more people learn a secret, the risk of it being leaked grows exponentially. And their opponent in this case is the Empire, waging war seriously as a world power. He couldn’t imagine that imperial intelligence was slacking off. So if these guys were trying to pull off a secret asylum operation, they should probably proceed with a bit more caution. Well, maybe he couldn’t expect so much from the Entente Alliance government, now in a state of panic and dysfunction.
Even if they weren’t planning on doing it in secret, the fact that the heads of government were preparing to flee would no doubt demoralize the citizens…although they may very well shift toward nationalistic resistance, so it was also possible to imagine a hopeful outcome.
The timing was delicate, given they were expecting a large-scale imperial offensive on the northern lines at just about any moment. Honestly, if word of this spread now, it could weaken Entente Alliance resistance. But if it held out heroically and the government called for resistance…it might have a chance.
If that happened, the Empire would be forced to tie up troops in Entente Alliance territory, unlike in Dacia.
“What should we do, sir? If we’re going to accept, we need to hurry.”
Actually, in the case of Dacia, things had happened so quickly that the government-in-exile idea didn’t work out. With that failure behind them, they knew that this issue demanded a rapid response. They were receiving the message right when they keenly felt the need to play a card. An Operations officer asked a question, taking the ini
tiative to suggest it wouldn’t be wise to pass on this turn: “Shouldn’t we make a move?”
“I’m opposed. I don’t think anything good will come of drawing attention to our armed merchant cruisers.”
From elsewhere came a proposal for cautious handling of the situation. After all, armed merchant cruisers were already in violation of international law as well as various states’ laws. If their orders to collect intelligence and disrupt trade were exposed, there would be an uproar. Disguising armed vessels as merchant ships to get them into the port was a legal problem. In a worst-case scenario, all the crew members would be declared pirates and arrested.
Even if breaking international law didn’t nag their conscience, every evil organization needs calculated reluctance based on profits and loss.
You weren’t supposed to break treaties; you were supposed to force the other party to break them.
At least, General Habergram intended to toe the line of what he could get away with at the bounds of international law.
“I want to avoid being boarded either way. How’s the loading going?”
Although they shared the same thought, the leader’s idea was somewhat different. After all, they knew a little bit more than the others—that Intelligence was proactively working to clear their bad name after Dacia and had learned several interesting things.
“I think it’s almost done…”
“…Then at this point a little extra cargo won’t make much difference. Who is the VIP?”
After all, the Intelligence agents had counted their chickens before they had hatched and suggested it was because Dacia collapsed so readily that the Republic and the Entente Alliance had more time to construct third lines. They thought this would be a good time to redeem themselves. Intelligence collection and analysis was proceeding at a fantastic pace on the northern lines, and they were really getting results.
The intelligence that the auxiliary ship had so rapidly acquired and the machinery they had used was secretly on board. They had even learned that the Imperial Navy was planning a landing operation.
So it went without saying that an inspection of that ship would be bad. That said, they already had so much dangerous cargo that adding something new wouldn’t do anything.
He didn’t think throwing in a little more problematic cargo would change their situation much.
“A councilor.”
One of the ten councilors of state establishing a government in exile in the Commonwealth was fraught with political implications. Officers couldn’t work in Intelligence unless they had a nose for understanding politics, so it was evident to all of them. That probably went for any outstanding staff officer.
It was no small thing for a politician at the level of minister of state to be appointed as a government in exile by the previous government with the proper authority.
And General Habergram was far from inept—which was why he hesitated.
“…Wait a moment.”
It was certainly true that if they succeeded in getting him asylum, that achievement would overshadow their previous failure. They might be able to prevent the nightmare of the Empire smoothly building government organizations, as it was doing in Dacia, from happening in the Entente Alliance. That was how well the man in charge here understood the issues.
But that would all only happen if the bid for asylum succeeded. If it failed, the political and diplomatic risks were huge. Additionally, the fallout was so far-reaching that this matter was far above what General Habergram could decide on his own.
And he was a person who knew the extent of his authority. He understood very well what wasn’t up to his discretion. That was precisely why he was selected to hold the reins. His ability to make calm judgments and not go off the rails was valued.
In actuality, the reason they had thrown someone so toxic in there was to get the department under control. He swiftly had a document prepared, took it, and stood. This was a matter that demanded extra attention to confidentiality. And so, taking a few escorts along, he left at once for the Office of the Admiralty.
“Habergram here. Is the First Lord of the Admiralty in?”
A military policeman stood guarding the office. Habergram had to put up with the duty officer’s suspicious look, given the man’s job.
He himself had always been terribly nervous when he had to stop officers of a higher rank when he was younger. With that in mind, he made a mental note that this officer had to be quite a serious-minded young man.
“He is. Do you have an appointment?”
“No. There’s an urgent matter I’d like to ask him about.”
After the duty officer confirmed a few things, the general was shown into the office.
As soon as he ran inside, he asked everyone else to leave. After all the attendants had been sent away, he made sure no one else was around and then gave his report.
“General, I trust you can make this quick.”
“Sir, something I’m unable to handle on my discretion alone has occurred.”
He passed the First Lord the summary he had prepared. At the same time, he gave him the outline verbally. As he watched his superior look over the document, he supplied more detailed explanations as necessary to help him understand.
Anyhow, every second counted. There could be no hesitation, but at the same they couldn’t act thoughtlessly. That was why the basis of the decision, the report, had to be given as quickly as possible. The Entente Alliance was collapsing with each passing moment. The life of the country, measured by an hourglass, had begun trickling away. If they wanted to save its invaluable political fruits, they had to act basically right now.
“An Entente Alliance councilor is requesting carriage via our auxiliary ship.”
“What a hairy situation. There aren’t any civilian vessels of Commonwealth nationality anchored in the area?”
Politically, creating the government in exile and getting in the Empire’s way was a promising choice. But it was the difficulty of the task that he was considering and thus asking about.
The reason was crystal clear. Any major political achievement that came without risk-taking was a dream. While a government in exile would be an excellent way to harass the Empire, getting the core members out of the country in secret and then taking them home to a supposedly neutral country was so difficult that calling it “hairy” seemed dismissive.
Yes, the issue was how to transport them. How could they get them to Commonwealth territory? Even if the Lytol was in disguise, it was still unquestionably conspicuous.
After all, it was registered not as a ferry but purely as a cargo-passenger ship. It wouldn’t be strange for them to call at any port, but anyone watching the mouth of the bay would definitely notice.
It was too great a risk to carry someone so important in such a vessel.
“Four or five. But they’re all regular liners. I’m sure the Empire is watching them.”
The problem was that most ships of Commonwealth nationality had been avoiding docking at Entente Alliance ports. More accurately, since the start of the war, anything trying to call at Entente Alliance bay facilities was being blown out of the water. It wasn’t so much a matter of neutrality; the Commonwealth was simply worried about getting mixed up in a fight.
So the only boats in the ports right now were the regular ferry lines scheduled beforehand. But they were almost completely filled with ordinary citizens trying to evacuate and get asylum. Apart from a slim minority of charter ships, there were no other vessels anchored besides ferries. It would be weirder if the auxiliary ship didn’t stand out.
He couldn’t imagine the Empire overlooking it. Even if they weren’t deliberately keeping watch, it was a ship from the Commonwealth—sailors at the port would find it a rare sight, and hopeful civilians would be literally begging to board. The Empire was bound to hear of it somehow.
The ship stood out so much, the Office of the Admiralty was considering sending a diplomat to go retrieve the intelligence.
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At least the Lytol wasn’t armed in a conspicuous way. But it was moving at 29.5 knots, which was faster than a cargo-passenger ship ever needed to go, and on top of that, it was even secretly carrying a seaplane, nominally for sightseeing flights, and a measure of firepower. They were disguised as hoses and recreational equipment, at least.
If it weren’t for the confidential materials, even if the ship was boarded, there wouldn’t be any issues under international law. The crew might be made up of mages, but that was a decision a business could freely make. After all, the Commonwealth was a free country.
But if they were caught assisting with asylum from a country at war, things would get tricky. It would raise the issue of whether they should give the refugee up without resistance… The Entente Alliance would probably want him to be guarded; it would be furious if they just handed him over.
So what would happen if he had the crew fight the imperial boarding unit? The answer was obvious. It would come around to bite them in the ass.
“Lytol can move at a fairly quick clip, but can it outrun the imperial patrol boats?”
Even if the Lytol was fast, it had its limits. And considering marine mages or aircraft might be present, it was impossible to say whether it could make a clean getaway. To go a step further, was a ship really even the best transportation method in this case?
“All right. We’ll transfer them to a submarine on the water.”
That must have been why the First Lord of the Admiralty made a daring decision. The ship could certainly sink. Or the living quarters could be attacked.
But if they used a vessel that could operate underwater, they could stay hidden.
“A submarine? We have one we can use?”
“Admiral Meyer guarantees it. In any case, we need to consult with the submarine squadron.”
[chapter] IV The Devil off the Coast of Norden
DECEMBER 10, UNIFIED YEAR 1924, ENTENTE ALLIANCE, ARNELSNE PORT