[@Letter Bee]

[h3]Okinawa[/h3]

[b]3:30 AM[/b]

Fuji Shimabuku sat on the porch of the big house and looked down at the lights of the city. He couldn't sleep. He never could when he was back home. Home not just being Okinawa but here, the big house on the hill. The place was filled with ghosts from the past, ghost and a legacy he had always been trying to outrun. For over four hundred years, Fuji's ancestors had ruled the Ryukyu Islands. That run ended nearly a hundred years ago. The old kings of Ryukyu were now a distant memory to the world. But Fuji's family would never forget that they were once independent of the Heavenly Sovereign and all that he stood for.

He stepped off the porch and took one last look at the house. Fuji wouldn't be back home for months. The old man who served his parents as groundskeeper would make sure nobody broke into the place and ransacked it. Not that he would mind. The relics inside the house mattered very little to him. To his mother, they had been priceless treasures. She had a glass case mounted on the wall. Inside of it was piece of scroll some great-great grandfather or other had written a dispatch on. Swords of the old kings decorated whole walls along with photographs of them. The crown of the kings was on display in the parlor. It was a ridiculous looking thing with colorful beads running up and down it. To Fuji, it was like growing up in a museum. It was why he'd left as soon as he could.

Okinawa was quiet this time of night. At least this part of town. The majority of Fuji's crew were busy spending their money on all the pleasures of the red light district across town. That meant they'd be stumbling back to the boat, hungover and penniless and ready to put in work again. He couldn't expect much more out of them, really. They were a motley crew made up of Japanese, Chinese, Filipino, and a few oddball Asians from other places. He even had one American, an older man who claimed to have served in the US Navy during the Second Civil War. 

Fuji passed through the market, now closed for the night. The vendor stalls were shuttered and locked. The markets here in Okinawa, along with all the markets in Taihoku and Manila, were how he made his money. All the vendors were hungry for product and didn't care where it came from. They didn't pay top dollar for it, but it was all profit from where Fuji and his men stood.

It took only a half hour to get to the docks. Like the majority of town, it was quiet. The boats moored to the dock all slowly bobbed with the currents coming in from the ocean. He found her in the slip where they'd docked three days ago. She wasn't much to look at, but the [i]Arō[/i] was the closest thing Fuji had to a legacy. A real legacy and not some half-remembered stories and rusty swords. She wasn't much to look at. To the world at large, she appeared to be a rusty commercial shipper designed for roll-on/roll-off cargo. But the truth was her hold was filled with weapons, everything from belt-fed machine guns down to balasong knives. With a smile on his face, Fuji began to climb the netting on the side of the [i]Arō[/i]. He was home at last.

Fuji saw no point of romanticizing the crown of the Ryukyu Kingdom. He had never known what it was like to rule Okinawa and he would never know that feeling, so why waste time on it? Besides, he wore another crown. This one was secret and could not be worn. There were no gaudy headdress with beads on it. It was not a crown given, but a crown taken. A crown earned.

Fuji Shimabuku was the pirate king of the South China Sea. He did not recognize no sovereign's authority but his own. He believed in no radical ideologies. His outlook was a simple one: I will take whatever I please until someone stops me. 


---


[h3]Siberia[/h3]

[b]Urajiosutoku
10:00 AM[/b]

Lieutenant Commander Kishimoto Nagumo pulled back on the yoke of his plane and brought the craft off the ground. The Mitsubishi-R77's single engine roared as Nagumo made it climb higher and higher into the sky. The weather was perfect for flying, clear skies with only a few clouds off in the distance. With his free hand, he strapped on his oxygen mask while he elevated and banked the plane to the right. 

The city below him came into view. It wasn't much to look at, none of the buildings were above twelve stories tall, and several were covered by construction crew scaffolding. Further down was the harbor and the waterfront with its boats. Merchant ships were gliding through the Golden Horn Bay towards the docks while an assortment of IJN ships were moored farther out to sea. 

It had once been called Vladivostok by the Russians. After the Japanese conquest, it had been renamed Urajiosutoku. The city was still almost all Russian and Eurasian, the few Japanese that resided there were either military or government officials. Nagumo was one of them, calling the city home for the past five years. Everyone else always rotated back home after six months to a year, but Nagumo always stayed. He used what little leverage he had as a member of the [i]Kazoku[/i] to block orders to return him. He had no desire to ever return to Japan again. There was nothing there for him except an old man's tired dreams.

Flying over the city, Nagumo pointed his plane towards the border. Most squadron leaders assigned their newest flyers to reconnaissance duty, and Nagumo was no different. But he also took at least one shift a week. It made him look good among the rest of the pilots, but it also gave him a chance to remember why he'd become a pilot in the first place. The sky was the great equalizer. Up here, things like military rank or noble standing didn't matter. It was just a man in a tube of metal, violating the laws of nature. And when it came to combat, nobody would show him deference because he was the son of the great count. And that's just how Nagumo wanted it.

He identified himself on the radio as a friendly as he entered Korean territory. The radio operated confirmed his identity and allowed him clearance in the clipped, bored cadence all air traffic controllers used regardless of their country of origin. Nagumo turned north and aimed his plane towards the Chinese border. Ostensibly, the patrols were to look for any potential attacks from the Cossack Mykhalov and his forces. But the naval high command always commanded the patrols skirt right to the edge of the Chinese border, as close to actually crossing over as the brass would dare. The unspoken message was clear: As vigilant as they had to be against Cossack raids, the Communists threat was never far away.

Nagumo flew through Korea parallel to the Chinese border. He saw the usual encampments both sides had built up near the border. As far as he could tell, the Chinese forces were the same as they always were out here. That seemed to fly in the face of the rumors he'd heard back in Urajiosutoku. According to some loose lipped sailors, the Chinese were massing their forces along the border in preparation of the invasion of Korea. Nagumo laughed to himself as he began to redirect back towards home. It wouldn't be the first time a sailor told tall tales, and there was no way it would be the last.

"Shogun to Tempura Six."

Nagumo raised an eyebrow and keyed the radio mic with his foot. Shogun was the call sign of the [i]Amagi[/i], Vice Admiral Hoga's carrier division flagship. 

"Tempura Six," Nagumo replied. "Go ahead, Shogun."

"Air support is needed thirty miles north northeast of Urajiosutoku. Cossacks have a transport convoy pinned down and you're the only plane in the air we can dispatch."

"I'm on the way," said Nagumo. He redirected his course and increased the throttle on his plane. "Tempura Six out." 


---


[h3]Tokyo[/h3]


[b]Prime Minister's Office
11:35 AM[/b]


"Intelligence sources inside China have confirmed that the Communists are preparing to invade Russia."

Inaba Chiba blinked rapidly in surprise. He sat the head of the big wooden conference table. Minister of War Aoki and the rest of the military clique sat to his left. Director Yamashita and the [i]Kenpeitai[/i] delegation sat at his left. 

The top secret meeting was supposed to have started right at eleven, but Aoki and the general staff were late. That didn't shock Aoki at all. In his two years as prime minister, every meeting Chiba had with them almost always started a half hour behind schedule. It was only a bit ironic that the men so renowned for their accuracy and precision could never keep an appointment. By contrast, Yamashita and his intelligence officers were always ten minutes early regardless of the circumstances. It was a comparison that seemed to sum up the differences between ruthless, autocratic, and unassuming Yamashita and the ostentatious generals who seemed to be more peacock than man.

"How solid is this?" General Ueda asked. "How much do you trust this information, Yamashita?"

"It's bedrock," Yamashita softly said. "A long time and valuable intelligence asset."

Chiba saw the three military men bristle in excitement. He knew exactly where they was about to head. He started to talk, only for Minister of War Aoki to shoot a bony finger forward. 

"Then now is the time to strike south," he hissed. "If China keeps their eyes towards Russia, then no one will be watching the Philippines."

"We can begin to amass troops into Kyushu," said General Kubo. "Give me two months and I will have an expeditionary force ready to invade."

"That's rash," said Chiba. "Very rash, give how little we actually know. I know you all have had your sights set on the Philippines for years now--"

"With the Philippines, the Empire would have a major foothold in the South China Sea and a further inroad into Southeast Asia."

"We retracted from Russia because of over extension," said Chiba. "But now we're strong enough to take all the Philippine islands?"

"Russia is a quagmire," said Yamashita. "It's a vast land of quicksand. Watch as China gets sucked in. I am no expert on military affairs, but I will say that the Filipinos are much more open to submission than the Russians. They are a weak, confused people who took advantage of the United State's weakness and now think they are a major nation. Delusions of grandeur. I blame the Spanish influence."

"I do not disagree that the Filipinos can be easily bested," said Chiba. "I only worry about war with China."

General Kubo pushed out his chest in defiance. 

"The Three Humiliations were a generation ago. All three of us know their stings well, we were junior officers at the time who have learned from our mistakes. The Communists do not stand a chance."

Chiba sighed and rubbed his temples. He knew it was fruitless to argue with the military clique about this. It was only though the Emperor's intervention five years ago that they did not continue deeper into Russia. There was a clear divide between the civilian and military sides of the cabinet, and Chiba did not have the authority to reign them in as prime minister. They all reported directly to the Heavenly Sovereign, and they all served at his the pleasure. Or, in reality, he served at the pleasure of the [i]Genrō[/i].

"Do you have any thoughts you'd like to add, Count Togai?"

All eyes fell on the far corner of the room. He'd been silent all through the meeting, but Count Ōkubo Togai had been intently observing. Befitting his status as the deity, the Emperor did not attend meetings. In his stead he sent the Count. As the [I]Genrō[/I], Togai was the power behind the throne. He was the closest advisor the Emperor had, and he was a fan of the military. There was speculation that Togai was the de facto ruler of the empire, making decisions in the Emperor's name. From what Chiba had witnessed of the Emperor, it would be a fair assessment to say that his imperial duties were not a top priority with the man.

"We must have a strong Japan," Togai croaked out. "The Heavenly Sovereign's ancestors have dictated that so goes Japan, so goes the rest of Asia and the world. The Communists have rose only because we have allowed them to. Either Asia will come under our control, or China's. A clash is inevitable, Prime Minister."

Chiba ground his teeth. He once learned a French word that summed up the meeting perfectly. [i]Fait accompli[/i]. That was all this meeting was and Chiba was powerless to stop it.

"Very well," said Chiba. "Very well. Then it is decided. Just do not blame me when the Fourth Humiliation comes."