The Longest Day

TLD: A Long Awaited Expansion


Arnold Colston-Westbrook sat at the head of the table, looking down the table at the six cheifs of staff assembled before him. "Gentlemen, this is one of the most turbulent times in our history, are we prepared?"

"It is the army's position that we are capable of repelling any invasions on our mainland, the Kailano Islands however, will be somewhat of a problem. If we lose naval superiority we will not be able to maintain sufficient forces on the interior islands to repel an invasion due to a lack of local food production. The outer islands are in a better shape but still somewhat vulnerable." answered Cheif of Army Ground Forces, Frederick Roxborough.

Colston turned to the Cheif of the Navy, Nathaniel Graham, and asked, "So what is the opinion of the navy?"

Graham looked up from the report he had been reading, stood and turned to Prime Minister Colston, "We are going to need more ships, and forward positioned naval bases."

Arnold's right eyebrow shot up, "Haven't we just finished the largest naval buildup since the Supremacy of the Councils... and the last few hundered years for that matter?"

Graham nodded once and continued, "Yes but it is not enough. While our navy is now roughly equivalent to the Sadalen's we cannot defend our waters and take the fight to the enemy at the same time. Moreover I have recieved reports that the Sadalens have begun basing troops and naval vessels in the Sheenish territories to our south, and on the border with our ally Valanion."

All eyes immediately snapped to Graham with now both of Prime Minister Arnold's eyebrows now being raised.

"Is this confirmed?" asked Arnold.

"It is. Sadalen naval vessels are already either on station or on their way. With all Hansa ships being the same models its somewhat hard to tell." replied Graham, gesturing towards, the report he had been reading. "Furthermore, while these ships are in port they cannot be attacked without drawing the Sheenish into the war, which will be a problem if we are in a defensive war. If it's an offensive war that won't be a problem any more than the fact that we would be at war with most of the major naval powers and have no chances of winning."

Arnold breifly put his head in his hands before looking back up, "Shit. It's probably going to be a bit of a sell but I can get you the funding you need, public support is still high enough. What do you need?"

Graham sat back down and pulled out a different report from the small stack of papers in front of him on the table, "Well, we need to increase our dreadnaught numbers by at least fifty percent, a new class of battlecruisers, we are going to need to completely replace our armoured cruiser fleet and probably near double the size. More light cruisers would be good but are not a dealbreaker and same with the destroyers. Other than that we are going to need to begin construction of a decently sized submarine fleet and have some extra money tucked away for human torpedo production."

"And how much is this going to cost..." Arnold said slowly.

"In the short term, next few years, we are going to have to double the naval budget. We should be able to cover costs relatively easily with all the new trade deals we've signed and a small 'patriotic tax' to make ends meet. In the long term the increase in maintenance will be easily covered by economic growth." answered Graham, looking back up at the Prime Minister.

"Well, seeing as we are going all out today, does anyone else need more money?" asked Arnold.

"We would also like a budget increase." answered Cheif of Air Force, Edison Burke. "We have been investigating dropping torpedoes from aircraft and it seems to be rather promising. We need money to develop a new torpedo model and the plane to carry it."

"Done." Arnold replied quickly. "Now on to what we are actually here for, expansion. Graham, I assume everything is prepared?"

"It is sir, the expedition can sail at any time." Graham returned.

"How about the Territorial Forces?" Arnold turned towards the as of yet silent Cheif of the Territorial Security Forces.

"With the support of the regular army units Cheif Roxborough has lent to us the operation should proceed smoothly. Agents are already in place and many of the local city states have been thoroughly destablised. Everything is prepared, all we need is your word." 

"Excellent, both are approved, however, Cheif Graham, we are probably going to have to extend our authority south as well soon, start drawing up plans immediately." Arnold announced as he stood.

"Already done sir." Graham replied, rising with the rest of the Cheifs and saluting.

"Well then, that will be all. You are dismissed."

TLD: A Snippet of News

The following is a snippet from the Ngatra Royal Tribune dated 6/01/1906 (dd/mm/yyyy)

Sadaler's Threaten War!
By Ben Lowe, International Analyst

A spokesman from the foreign ministry has today revealed that the Empire of Sadalen has threatened both our nation and the The Imperial Federation of Divinium. The telegram was sent from the Imperial Capitol of St. Helena by a member of our diplomatic delagation which made up of several high ranking government officials who are there to negotiate treaties between our two nations. It appears that, upon catching wind of the negotiations through unknown means, a Sadaler diplomat rudely interupted the then ongoing discussions and demanded that all diplomatic talks be immediately called off, and that if any treaties were signed it would be seen as an act of war by both the Imperium Divinium and our great Confederation. The Foreign Ministry spokesman also revealed that a telegram, presumably of similar content, had also been sent to our steadfast ally, the United Republic of Valanion, by our delegation.

Such an aggressive response from the Empire of Sadalen, while not unlike them, is extremely unexpected and brash. Much of the Sadaler navy is out of position on an expedition on the other side of the world, and what is left to defend their home waters is not enough to protect their many colonies, let alone their home waters. Furthermore, with the annoucement of the International Defence Alliance, any attack on our great nation would immediately pull in all other members, further increasing the Sadaler's numerical disadvantage, even before we consider the Imperial fleet and their 'Latin League' allies.

It is my analysis, and the analysis of others here at the Ngatra Royal Tribune that this action is a desperate threat by the Empire of Sadalen to stop the spread of Imperial influence into 'their' sphere of influence, a threat with no teeth. Though negotiations may already be over and those in the Imperium may never read this we urge those decision makers in the Imperium not to be threatened by this transparently spineless threat. The benefits that cooperation between our two countries could bring far outweigh the potential for war.
Furthermore we urge you, the reader, to not fear the outcome of a war between us and the Sadalens. With our fleet and the assistance of our allies, the outcome of any war is assuredly in our favour.

Long live the King! Glory to the Prime Minister! May all our foes tremble at the might of Narunar!

TLD: "Order Number: 3559"

The government of the Confederation of Narunar hereby orders the creation of two 'submarine recovery vessels' from the King Albrecht Shipyards, to be named 'Vulcan' and 'Volkov'.

The ships are to have a lifting capacity of at least one-thousand (1000) tonnes, bunk capacity for at least fifty (50) extra crewman, extensive crew amenities, an infirmary, machining workshop, diving facilities, a desalination plant, several motor launches, and the capacity to fully resupply at least five (5) submarines at sea, without support. 

Four (4) million dollars is to be assigned for the creation of the two ships and delivery must occur within four (4) years time (1912).

Prince Martin stood before the door, his wife Amara tight at his side, and yet he paused. He had walked through these doors many times in his life, but this time felt different. It was as if all that had happened that morning was a dream or hallucination, and that by opening the door, by laying eyes upon his father, that it would all become real, that his father would be ill, that it would be terminal, and that there would be nothing anybody could do. The rational part of him was explaining, carefully and slowly, that that wasn't true, that all he had experienced and been told was real, and that walking away would do nothing to change that, but that part of the prince had been on the losing side since, and even before the death of his mother. So instead, he looked to his wife, to the stability and comfort she radiated, and smiled.

The doors pushed open with a greased silence, briefly letting the western sun shine its light into the sparsely furnished bedroom. Three doctors and an assistant stood in one corner, huddled around a circular table which was strewn with medical implements which they were busily packing away. In a chair by the bed sat a priest who was talking softly to a man laying under the covers. Upon seeing their entrance, the priest whose name Martin had never bothered to remember, seemed to say "We will have to continue this discussion later" before standing, bowing slightly towards the Prince and Princess, and walking over to join the doctors on the other side of the room. Making their way around, Martin immediately made to sit in the recently vacated chair, while Amara went to retrieve one of the several spare chairs against the far wall.

Martin looked at the face of the man before him, looking for something different, looking for something to make this man not the father he loved, and came up with nothing.


"Dad..."


His father smiled, "Stop looking at me like that! I'm not dead quite yet." Chuckling slightly, he turned to look in the direction of the doctors, "The rest of you can leave for a moment."
The doctors turned and bowed before making their way towards the door. Martin felt someone moving behind him when his father turned to look past him, "No, not you. Amara, how many times have I had to tell you that you are part of the family now."
As Martin turned around, Amara curtseyed, and retorted lightly, "Not enough Your Highness. Perhaps next time I will remember."
The King huffed, "And I thought I told you to call me Ray as well, but I guess you still need to be reminded of that too."
Amara smiled as she sat down next to her husband, "Of course Your Highness."
His smile widening, King Raymond adjusted his gaze to look at his son, "What are we going to do with her... Such a rascal."
Despite his fears, Martin smiled slightly, "A good lashing and six months of hard labour should do the trick."
The King laughed heartily, "I'll have the order written up the moment this is over." His smile diminished somewhat, "But first we have to talk about this mess."
"Is it true?" asked Martin after a short pause.
His smile turning wistful, the king replied, "Seems to be so. I wouldn't have let them poke my aching joints for so long if it wasn't."
Martin's face fell, the levity failing to cushion the news which felt all the more real now that it had come from the mouth of his father.
"Oh..." he said quietly.
The King nodded, "Yes, and we are going to have to make some adjustments in duties for the time being." Nodding to the corner by the door and the attendant who had been standing there silently, "I had the foresight to have this document prepared last year. It's an official notice that I am transferring my duties as King to you, making you Prince Regent of the realm."
Martin's brow furrowed, "You have had this prepared for a year?"
The King snorted, "Not because I was expecting to die, but because I wanted to have some time to myself in my twilight years. The arthritis has been getting rather worse over the past months, although I suppose we know now it wasn't the arthritis causing that now... I was planning to do this sooner rather than later so I could still smack you round the head when you forget the High Priest's name during a ceremony again."
Forgetting the situation for a brief moment Martin groaned, "It was one time dad!"
Smiling fully again, the King retorted, "And yet you still haven't learned it."
Sighing, the King continued, "Well, your second cousin Arnold is going to be here soon so we should get this squared away before he whisks you off to some parliament meeting or something."

At that, the attendant picked up a silver legged tray which sat on a table beside him and laid it in the King's lap. On it, was an astounding small document for such an important decision, an inkwell, and a pre-prepared pen. The King grabbed a pair of glasses which had been carelessly discarded on the other side of the bed, shakily picked up the pen, and signed his name at the bottom of the page. After placing the pen back on the tray, the attendant moved it to the edge of the bed, in front of Prince Martin. Taking the pen in his hand, Martin too scribbled his signature on the document.
The King frowned slightly, "Not the way I was expecting to sign that. I had hoped it would be at some big ceremony, with people clapping and cheering, but I suppose reality is often disappointing."
The attendant then quickly took the tray back to the corner of the room, and stood there silently.

After that, they waited for several minutes, talking. Talking about anything and nothing, about Amara's garden, about the regimental viewing that Martin was missing, about anything except what lay in front of them. And it came to an end with a knock on the door. "Your Highness, Prime Minister Arnold Colston-Westbrook is here to see you."