27 February 1942,
Location: Pearl Harbour Multinational Naval Base
Time: 0800
Back at Pearl Harbor, the crisp morning air was filled with the hum of activity as Kansens and manjuus bustled between tasks. Prince of Wales stood outside the command center, awaiting the arrival of the Commander. She had just received the latest telegraph from Mo's detachment in Java and was preparing her report.
As the Commander approached, she saluted and handed over the message. "Commander, the latest from Java."
The Commander unfolded the paper, his eyes scanning the details. "Monsoor's detachment… they successfully thwarted the Sakuran invasion?"
Wales nodded. "Yes. According to the telegraph, Monsoor's forces played a minimal role, though. The local garrison had enough kansen to handle the situation."
The Commander frowned. "That's not what I expected..."
Prince of Wales shifted slightly, uncomfortable with the confusion she saw in the Commander's eyes. "The LEI government had already reported having sufficient forces. Perhaps we overestimated the threat?"
The Commander remained silent for a moment, his brow furrowed in thought. Something wasn't adding up. Mo's detachment had been sent to secure the region just as requested by the liaison officer who refused to acknowledge the report from their own government, and yet the report suggested their involvement was almost unnecessary. The Commander didn't trust that the situation was as simple as it seemed.
"I want to verify this information," the Commander said finally, his voice sharp. "There are too many inconsistencies. We've been getting reports from all over Southeast Asia, and something isn't right."
Wales looked concerned. "What do you mean, Commander?"
The Commander's expression darkened. "I suspect we're receiving false or compromised reports. Messages coming from across Asia are muddled. We need clarity."
He turned toward the telephone on his desk. "Summon Rear Admiral Karel Doorman. I want to hear his take on this."
__________________________________________
Location: Pearl Harbour Multinational Naval Base
Time: 0900
An hour later, Rear Admiral Karel Doorman, the head representative of the liaison officers from LEI, arrived at the command center. His expression was one of quiet unease, his thoughts clearly preoccupied by the rising uncertainty surrounding the battle in Java.
The Commander wasted no time as Doorman entered the room. "Rear Admiral, I trust you've seen the latest report?"
Doorman nodded, his face grim. "I have, sir. And frankly, I share your concerns. The reports coming out of Java… they're inconsistent. Monsoor's detachment should've played a far larger role in repelling the invasion."
The Commander leaned back in his chair, his hands clasped together. "Exactly. I don't trust the information we've been getting. I fear someone is manipulating the messages, either intercepting or altering them before they reach us."
Doorman's expression hardened. "You think we're being played?"
The Commander nodded. "That's exactly what I think. And I'm not willing to risk Java's defense on compromised information. We need to know the truth."
Doorman exhaled slowly. "I'll review the communications logs from our side that we brought. If there's a leak or tampering, we'll find it."
The Commander's eyes narrowed. "Good. Keep me updated, and Rear Admiral… be careful. I don't want us walking into a trap."
Doorman gave a sharp salute. "Understood, Commander. I'll get to the bottom of this."
As Doorman left the office, the Commander stared at the reports on his desk. He knew it, something was wrong, and they were running out of time to uncover the truth.
______________________________________________________________________
28 February 1942,
Location: Soerabaja, Java.
Time: 1100
The scene shifted to a grand meeting hall, where Mo's detachment made their entrance. Mo, Newcastle, and the others took their seats, their eyes scanning the room. Even Jervis had joined, now that Java was stable enough to be nursed by other Kansens.
Before the meeting formally begins, a gentle hum of conversation filled the room. Queen Wilhelmina of the Lowlands, exiled from her kingdom by the Allemani occupation, engaged in light-hearted chatter with Lowlander Kansens. De Ruyter sat closest to the queen, who affectionately asked about Java's recovery and other matters concerning her remaining subjects. The queen's voice was like that of a concerned grandmother, soothing yet probing as she inquired about the welfare of her people.
De Ruyter answered with a slight smile. "Java is on the mend, Your Majesty. Thanks to Jervis and the others, she's recovering faster than expected."
"Good," the Queen responded warmly. "Java is resilient. We all must be. These are trying times, but we will prevail."
The conversation continued as the Queen's gaze shifted to Mo's detachment. Her eyes, sharp yet kind, fixed on Mo, who suddenly felt an unfamiliar pang of anxiety. The Queen's reputation as a shrewd and resilient leader preceded her, and Mo was unsure how to react under her intense, almost grandmotherly scrutiny.
"So, you are the one they call Michael Monsoor." The Queen's voice cut through the air with regal clarity, but her tone softened as she continued. "I've heard much about you, how you turned the tide of the battle and held the line. Your actions saved countless lives, and for that, I'm grateful."
Mo stiffened slightly under the praise, unused to such direct attention, especially from a figure like Queen Wilhelmina. "Thank you, Your Majesty," she replied cautiously. "I... I only did what was necessary."
The Queen chuckled, the sound surprisingly light for someone of her station. "Necessary, yes. But extraordinary nonetheless. You've given my people hope, and that is something more precious than gold in times like these. You've done more than you know."
A small, sincere smile formed on the Queen's lips. "To me, Monsoor, you're like my own daughter. You've protected Java, the last place my people can call home without foreign oppression. So, you're family now."
The room fell into a brief, comfortable silence, as if the weight of the Queen's words lingered in the air. Mo, still processing the unexpected warmth in the Queen's tone, could only nod, though she felt a deep sense of gratitude swelling within her.
As the Queen shifted her attention to Newcastle, a knowing smile spread across her face. "Newcastle, it's been too long, hasn't it?"
Newcastle, ever composed, nodded with a respectful bow. "Indeed, Your Majesty. It is good to see you again."
The Queen's eyes twinkled with amusement. "Still so formal, I see. I remember boarding your ship years ago. You ran the Maid Corps like clockwork back then, and I've no doubt you still do."
Newcastle smiled softly at the memory. "The Maid Corps has flourished under Belfast's leadership now, but I still take pride in our tradition."
The Queen gave a playful huff. "You always were the responsible one. I suppose that's why you're here with Monsoor's detachment, ensuring everything runs smoothly."
Newcastle chuckled lightly. "Someone has to keep everything in order."
The Queen, however, grew slightly more serious as she leaned in toward Newcastle. "I've heard nothing about Monsoor. She's a quiet one, isn't she?"
Newcastle nodded, her expression softening. "Lady Monsoor has a knack for staying in the background, but she has her strengths. She's… delicate in some ways, but also stronger than she appears. She enjoys fashion and cute things, so if you ever need advice on that front, she'll gladly help."
The Queen raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Fashion and cute things? That's not something I would have guessed."
Newcastle smiles warmly. "Yes, it's one of her few indulgences, though she might not show it often."
De Ruyter, who had been listening quietly, finally broke her silence. "Is that so? Perhaps I should seek her guidance next time I need a new outfit." She said so as if she had not heard anything from Newcastle on the way to the meeting.
Mo, hearing the conversation drifted toward her love for style and cute things, felt her cheeks flush slightly. It was a small, almost trivial side of her that she rarely shows, but in this moment, the warmth from both Newcastle and the Queen made her feel unexpectedly seen.
As the meeting proceeded, the air of camaraderie and mutual respect lingered, with Mo feeling a renewed sense of belonging among those who now regarded her with admiration and affection.
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As the initial light-hearted discussions wound down, the atmosphere in the room grew heavier. The meeting now shifted to more serious topics, battle reports and the defense of Java.
One of the officers stood, his face lined with tension. "Batavia, Merak City Port, and Semarang were all raided this morning by enemy bombers. The AA batteries and fighters stationed at secret airbases managed to intercept many of them, but the damage... was significant. Our fighter losses were particularly heavy."
The table was silent for a moment as the news settled in. The Colonial Governor leaned forward, his brows furrowed. "And what of the enemy's plans for a possible landing? Where are we most vulnerable?"
An officer pointed at the map of Java. "We've identified several potential landing zones. Soerabaja and Semarang are highly vulnerable due to their lack of coastal fortifications. Tjilatjap is on the Indian Ocean side, so while it's less likely, we can't rule it out entirely. However, Batavia remains the most fortified of all."
Another officer shrugged off Tjilatjap's importance. "With it being on the Indian Ocean, the likelihood of a major invasion force landing there is slim. The Sakuran forces prefer the northern side for their operations."
The Colonial Governor nodded thoughtfully. "What's the situation with Terra Austral?"
"The connection has been re-established. Darwin Port is operational, though limited," another officer reported. "The Terra Austral Government has pledged defensive support to Java, and they're preparing to send AA artillery, field artillery, rifles, armored cars, and even tanks. But there's a catch."
"Of course there is," the Governor said dryly.
The officer nodded. "It'll take time. The equipment needs to be shipped, and until then, we're operating with what we have, which isn't much."
Queen Wilhelmina listened carefully, her hands folded on the table. Her face betrayed none of the worry she might have felt as another officer spoke.
"The colonial government of Bharat has also received word of the Battle of Java Sea. They've promised to send equipment and manpower. They're ready to help us hold Java as a fortress against the Crimson Axis."
"But like Terra Austral, they can't just teleport their forces here," the Governor added. "We're under-equipped and undermanned. So what's the plan for right now?"
An officer hesitated before speaking. "We've been considering the enlistment of local Javanese people into our ranks."
The room was silent for a moment, and everyone could feel the weight of the suggestion. The local people were, after all, under European colonial rule, and their loyalty was not guaranteed.
The officer continued, his voice heavy. "However, there's a problem. Agitators are rising up, calling for independence, even going so far as to collaborate with the Sakuran invaders. They see them as liberators from European colonialism."
Queen Wilhelmina's gaze hardened. "So we are faced with the need for manpower, but we risk inciting rebellion?"
The officer nodded. "Yes, Your Majesty."
The Queen sat in silence for a long moment, considering the implications. Then she spoke, her voice soft but resolute. "We must address this directly. The local people are vital to the defense of Java. Without them, we stand no chance against the Crimson Axis."
All eyes turned to her as she continued. "It is time to apologize to the indigenous people, publicly and sincerely. I will make an announcement, one that acknowledges our mistakes and offers not only better treatment but a promise of citizenship in the Kingdom of the Lowland, and, if after the war they still desire independence, we will grant it."
A brief silence followed before the Prime Minister, who had remained quiet until now, objected. "Your Majesty, with all due respect, the local people will not be easily swayed by a single speech," he began, his voice measured but firm. "This gesture, while noble, may be perceived as desperation. They could see it as you trying to entangle them in a war they have no desire to fight, with promises that might seem empty to them."
The Queen's gaze hardened slightly, but she allowed him to continue.
"Moreover, this could damage your prestige and the legitimacy of your rule," he added. "It may come across as an admission of guilt or weakness, and once that is said, it cannot be unsaid. We risk eroding the trust we still have among our own people."
The colonial governor, who had been watching closely, nodded in agreement. "The Prime Minister is correct, Your Majesty. Public sentiment is delicate. A speech like this could incite skepticism, even among the locals. Some might believe it's too little, too late."
The Queen remained silent for a moment, absorbing their concerns. Then, with a steady voice, she responded. "I understand the risks. But doing nothing is a greater risk. If we don't act now, we risk losing everything."
She looked at them both with unwavering resolve. "This is the course I've chosen. We must unite the people, no matter how difficult the road ahead may be."