A Second Sunrise: Taiwan of 2020 Sent Back to 1911

[ChrisProvidence]

Ishigaki Airfield

"So, how do I look?" Chen asked her. If he was being honest, he didn't like his dress uniform too much, but he had to keep up appearances.

"You clean up nicely," she told him, while they waited at the runway. "Now I have another question."

"Of course, Miss Higa."

"Why am I here?"

"Because we will be welcoming some new recruits today. Koreans, apparently."

"I hope you're not asking me to translate. My Korean is atrocious."

"Don't worry. They speak Chinese. Wait, you speak Korean?"

"Only the profanities," she told him, with a wry smile. "I think I learned a few words when I visited as a child."

"Really?"

"My father is a merchant. Well, was a merchant, Chen."

"Right. So, Korea, huh? Probably different than when I lived there."

"You used to live there?"

"Yeah, long time ago. Ahead… You get what I mean."

"It still gets confusing."

"Tell me about it." That got a slight laugh out of her. "Anyways, my mother was a teacher, so she brought me along for a year in Seoul."

"What was it like?"

"Crowded. Lots of buildings. A lot more crowded than when you visited. Probably."

"With tall towers?"

"Skyscrapers? Yeah. Plenty of them around."

"It must have taken some time to adjust from life in Taipei, yes?"

"Huh?"

"Didn't you say you grew up in Taipei?"

"Me?" Chen continued to give her a confused look. "Oh, I grew up in Irvine."

"Irvine… I can't say I have ever been to a place like that. Where is it?"

"California." Higa gave him another curious look. "…In the United States."

"You were born in the United States?" Shock filled her voice as she said that. "I thought the Americans didn't want Chinese people there."

"I'm from the future, remember?" Under any other circumstances, Chen knew he would have sounded insane, but here he was. "Besides, I was born in Hong Kong."

"Ah, that sounds more reasonable," Higa agreed. "Though I imagine it was different from when my father brought me there."

"Yeah. Mom and I left in 1997, anyways."

"To the United States?"

"Yeah. Lot of us moved away when the Mainland took over. Some of us immigrated to the United States."

"Including your family."

"Yeah. Marty's too. Met him when we were classmates in elementary school."

"I see… So, many people moved to the United States when the British stopped owning the island?"

"Not all of us," another woman's voice interrupted. Michael turned to see a woman walking up to them, with Marty by her side. "Some of us were resettled in Vancouver as well."

"Agent Fong," Chen greeted, before turning to his friend. "Hey, Marty."

"Hey, Mike. Thanks for hosting us for a few more days."

"Hey, we could use the company," he said, before turning to Higa. "Ah, where are my manners? Miss Higa, this is Agent Rachel Fong and Agent Martin Li. Fong, Li, this is Miss Higa Akira, the liasion and translator between myself and the local community."

"Nice to meet you," said Marty.

"Charmed." Fong told her.

"So," Li continued, seeing that nobody else would. "Got word that the Koreans will be landing in thirty. We're looking at a battalion's worth of men of mixed training."

"Volunteers from civilians, tourists, down-timers, and military students, right?"

"Yeah, a motley crew, Mike," Marty admitted. "I'm sure you're familiar with their commander?"

"Captain Park Jae-hyun, right?" Fong nodded. "Yeah, I think I met him once. Korean Marines, right?"

Fong nodded again. "Yes, he will be the de-facto commander of the First Korean Infantry Battalion of your brigade, Colonel."

"He can speak the language, right?" Fong nodded a third time. "Good… Wait, Colonel?!"

He could sworn, Higa was biting her tongue not to laugh, but Marty gave him a wry smile.

"Yeah, congratulations on your promotion, Mike."

"How-"

"Lack of officers and all of your superiors being off-island when we all got sent back in time. So congratulations, old friend. Lucky you."

"This means I have more responsibilities, doesn't it?"

"Nothing more than you've already been doing," Fong pointed out. And with him training his men and the new recruits, he knew she had a point. "Now you have the rank and pay to match your new obligations."

"Lucky me. So, how's Wang recovering?"

"He'll live," Li grumbled. "And Sun will be grateful. But outside of OSINT and basic common sense, we can't really tell you anything, Mike."

"Yeah, I figured," he agreed. Clearance was clearance, and he didn't have to worry about things like that when the first plane came over the horizon. "Well, that's as good a sign as any. Places, everyone!"

 

[ChrisProvidence]

When it comes to foreign policy, strategy, and intelligence, knowing your opponents, as well as your allies, is of the utmost importance.

To that end, I believe that Historical Intelligence (HISTINT) can provide a certain edge against any and all competitors for the foreseeable future (10-30 years).

Of course, this is hardly a new concept. Intelligence agencies research and write up character assessments on people of interest all the time.

Who they are, what they believe, how they act, how to blackmail and/or murder them… et cetera.

As such, what I am proposing is hardly anything new.

However, HISTINT does provide a certain perspective that traditional reports and assessments do not have:

Hard Evidence.

Of course, your average profile or intel assessment can make estimations, but the simple fact that we know how certain people will act in specific scenarios provides a greater insight into their character, allowing for more precise assessments.

Which in turn allow for more effective decision-making.

For example, let's take a look at Tsar Nicholas II.

While not the most competent, he does care for his children more than almost anything else. HISTINT would point out that his care for his son led to the introduction of Rasputin into his court.

Had the Tsarevich not had hemophilia or his father not cared for him, it is likely that such a person as Rasputin would not have risen to prominence.

As such, it is likely that the Tsar may make overtures to us in an effort to find a treatment for his son, rather than Rasputin.

As such, I would recommend that we embrace any such overtures, as they would generate a good amount of goodwill and soft power with the Russians, while also sidelining a destabilizing force.

Of course, HISTINT is not an oracle, nor should it be seen as such.

Regarding Wang Jingwei, the man in our time is a Hanjian. A traitor.

But this is a man almost three decades younger, who has had little, if any, contact with the Japanese.

While I have no love for the man, I would think it would be… unwise to project that he would follow a similar path.

From what I have learned about him, he seems to be largely loyal to Sun. Fanatically against the Manchus as well, it seems.

Would such a man betray us again, given the different circumstances?

This shows one of the limits of HISTINT. While it is a useful tool for character assessments, it is most effective on people who are of similar positions under similar circumstances as in our own time.

It is my belief that somebody with a similar position, circumstances, and beliefs would act similarly to their alternate selves.

In contrast, an assessment based on somebody twenty or thirty years before they rise to prominence and historical record is likely to be less-useful, or even harmful.

Moreover, continued distance from the point of divergence between our timelines (circa early 1911) will likely lead to HISTINT becoming less-efficient as a predictive tool.

In short, HISTINT is a valuable tool, but we must use it immediately if we want to use its full potential.

-Agent Martin Li
MIB Field Agent & Analyst

 

[ChrisProvidence]

Japanese Embassy, Taipei, Republic of China, 30 April 1911

At this moment, the Embassy had been in legal limbo, what with technically being loyal to the temporal Empire of Japan, while also being unrecognized.

Still, that hadn't stopped them from getting spied on by the MIB, even if they had absolutely nothing to do with that attempted invasion, and most of the people here were largely opposed to it, anyways.

But with the war being over and the Tarō government trying to put out a dozen fires, Tokyo eventually decided that the best thing to do was keep them in Taiwan and turn them into an embassy.

Which, for Ambassador Numata Mikio, worked just fine for him. Like most foreign diplomats in Taiwan, he had already been an ambassador in all but name, anyways.

As far as he was concerned, it could have been worse. At least he still had a country, unlike the Koreans.

Or the Filipinos.

Or the Indians.

Or anyone else who was from Asia, now that he thought about it.

Kure Naval Arsenal, Kure, Hiroshima

"She is a beauty, isn't she?" said Admiral Tōgō. "A shame about the circumstances, though."

"Captain Matsumura was a good sailor," Captain Yagushi answered. He didn't personally know the man , but they both served against the Russians a few years earlier. "It is an honor to command the Aki."

"It seems that naval officers are in short supply," said the Nelson of the East. "It will take at least a decade to rebuild what we have lost."

"At the minimum, Admiral," Yagushi confirmed, and he knew it better than most.

While the Admiralty was largely intact, most captains had gone down with their ships. While seen as honorable by some, Fukuyuma had been quick to point out that this effectively gutted the IJN.

"Now, if you'll excuse me, Captain, I must return to Tokyo. It seems that the Army wants to take advantage of the Battle of the East China Sea."

"I wish you luck, Admiral," said the Captain, followed by a crisp salute. "May I speak freely for a second?"

"Go ahead."

"If the Chinese are able to sink a fleet from miles away, it is likely that a similar weapon can be used to destroy our armies."

Manila Harbor, Insular Government of the Philippine Islands

Emmanuel Tsu looked over the manifest once again. Everything was here... power tools, screws, batteries, and enough solar generators to fill a small solar array.

"You know, those tools aren't going anywhere if you check them the fifth time, Manny."

"Yeah, I know, Laura. Just nervous."

"You're always nervous. Just let me handle the business, while you do what you do best. Teach."

"You know, we're going to get some weird looks when we get there. Usually, it's a white guy with a Filipina wife, not the other way-"

"Manny," his wife laughed, "If I cared about that kind of stuff back home, I wouldn't have said yes."

"Or told your mother to go fuck herself when she found out about me."

"Well she can. But she's long gone, and good riddance. So, you ready for this?"

"With you? Yeah. How's your Tagalog?"

"Little rusty, but I brushed up a bit on the way. How's your English?"

"Pasensya na, pero hindi ako marunong mag english."

"Yeah, you'll be fine," she said with another laugh. "Think they'll buy what we're selling?"

"Probably. Not like they really have power tools back there. Long as we don't treat them like morons-"

"Why the hell would we do that?"

"Hypothetical, Laura." he told her, shaking his head. After all, she was as far from her mother as she could be. "But as long as we give them a fair shake and demonstrate what our tools can do, we should be in good shape."

After all, it's not like these guys had anything that could match a drill or a nail gun.

It was funny, now that he thought about it. For all of the technology that they could sell, basic power tools were the best they could work with for now.

Then again, your average rechargeable drill or nail gun were pretty simple and reliable, assuming they could keep a charge. So as long as the solar panels and the generators worked, they'd be able to recharge any batteries for their customers.

For a modest price, of course.

Couple that with the sheer amount of screws and nails they could bring over, and Laura was pretty sure they could beat anything the locals had on hand. Well, that's what she told the tool company, anyways, and she was fairly convincing.

"Yeah. So, do you want to do the talking?" she interrupted. "It was your idea, Manny."

"You're the one who used to run the guitar shop. I just kept the books."

"You sure? I'm not sure if they'd take a me seriously. You know, guys from a century in the past, and all that."

"Yeah, but you're also white. Lot of people back here didn't exactly have the best opinion of Filipinos."

"Yeah, but they'll probably think you're Chinese."

Yay, less racism.

"I am Chinese." To be specific, he was Tsinoy, even if it was more his name than anything else. "Well, more Chinese than Spanish, anyways."

"You'll be fine," she told him, in all sincerity. "We'll be fine. We've made it this far, haven't we?"

"Yeah. Helps that we kinda know what we're doing, too."

"Yeah, that definitely helps, Manny."

Beiyang Army Headquarters, Beijing, Qing Empire, 4 May 1911

Lieutenant Jiang stood at attention on the parade grounds, though he was hardly paying attention to General Yuan's speech.

Why would he? As far as he was concerned, it was a load of bullshit coated in Qing gold.

"In this time, the Chinese people need a strong hand to guide them. In these times, the Chinese people need a strong shield to protect them from radicalism."

As far as Jiang was concerned, that hand would be Manchu, or Yuan himself.

Whoever's hand it may be, it would be holding a leash.

He looked to his left to see one of his old classmates, who'd nodded back towards him.

He turned to his right.

Another nod.

Jiang turned to the General, who had said something about "Defending China," and he nodded as well

For the first time that day, he agreed with Yuan Shikai.

 

[ChrisProvidence]

George Town, British Malaya, 4 May 1911

"The Island from the Future," quoted Homer Lea as he thumbed through the newspaper. "It has a nice ring to it."

"Thank the journalist," Li answered. Unlike Lea, he'd been leaning up against the wall in case any Qing sympathizers showed up. "Here's hoping it helps the cause."

"The existence of a Republic of China, let alone one strong enough to defeat the Japanese? That should enough to convince someone that we can win."

Lea set the paper down and turned to face Li.

"But would it not be more beneficial if Taiwan were to open itself to the world?"

Li shrugged. "Perhaps. Do your remember that question you asked me a few months ago?"

"Li, I didn't know you until a month ago."

Wait. That was Huang.

"Oh, you're right. Anyways, the reason why we don't let foreigners go past the ports is security. Last thing we need is Yuan Shikai trying to preemptively murder people."

From what Rachel had told him, Director Chiu was busy trying to talk half the non-Japanese diplomats out of trying to start colonial revolts.

"Is that not what we're doing?"

"Pretty much," Li admitted. "But we need every advantage we can get, right?"

"Fair enough," Lea relented, as Dr. Sun walked off the stage. "Say, can I ask you a personal question, Li?"

"Depends on the question, Homer," Lea said with some caution. "What is it?"

"What happened in your time?"

"That's a long one, Lea. Do you want the long version or the short version?"

"Let's go with the abridged version," the American requested. "For starters, what happens to me?"

Li winced at the question. Though he'd consider himself a good liar, he never liked being the bearer of bad news.

"What's wrong, Li?"

"You die of a stroke in a year."

Lea paused, then burst out laughing, "That's a good one, Li!"

"Homer, I'm being serious. You don't have that much longer to live. Hell, if you don't believe me, I can show you your grave in Taiwan."

"I see..." The American needed a minute to comprehend it. "One year."

"I'm sure we can take preventative treatment," Li promised. "When we go to Taiwan, I'll get you to a doctor."

"Thanks," he said, in slightly higher spirits. "And the rest of the world?"

We win, but Yuan fucks it up and tries to become Emperor. He fails, but China falls apart. So it takes our side another decade to reunite it, though Sun never sees it. His successor starts fighting the Communists-"

"Communists?"

"Marxists. Anyways, we fight the Communists for ten years, and then Japan invades us. We're doing horribly, but Japan decides to invade the Philippines, which brings America into the war."

"Like my book?"

"Yeah, kind of," Li admitted, and Lea looked somewhere between proud and horrified. "The good news is that the General in charge of defending the Philippines read it."

"What's the bad news?"

"The Japanese also read it."

"Oh."

"And it also resulted in the internment of thousands of innocent Japanese-Americans."

"Oh. It makes sense, though."

"What?" Thankfully, Li managed to hide his emotions, because he was half-tempted to call Lea an idiot.

"Some of the Japanese-Americans could have sympathized with the Empire."

"Maybe. But most of them were as loyal as any other American. Hell, Japanese Americans wanted to fight Japan, but America wouldn't let them serve in that theater. By the end of the war, the most-decorated unit in that war majority Japanese-American."

"I see. So it was my fault?"

"Not exactly," Li reassured him once more, though It didn't look like it did anything. "It's more like it didn't help things."

"So, what happens next?"

"Let's see... America, Britain, and China beat back Japan, Japan surrenders, Korea gets freed, and China goes back into a civil war. We retreat to Taiwan, and America eventually becomes the only superpower in the world-"

"That's great!"

"Then they manage to throw it away at the turn of the millennium," Li said with a sigh. "And before you ask, I don't know. Corruption and hubris, I guess."

"That- that is a lot to take in," Lea admitted, and motioned to Wang, who'd been talking with Sun. "So, who becomes Sun's successor? Him?"

"No. Someone else."

"So, what happens to him?"

"You know that war with Japan?"

"Yes."

"Well, he betrayed us to them."

"In your time, right?"

"Yeah. I'm not sure what that has to do with it, though, Homer."

"You said I'll die in a year if we don't change things, right?"

"Yeah. Which is why we're getting you to a doctor in Taiwan, first chance we get."

"What if we did something like that for Wang?"

"He'll live for three decades," Li answered, but then it hit him. "I guess it's possible."

"Besides, the this world's already changed from the one you came from, hasn't it?"

"I guess you're right," Li admitted. "Thanks, Homer."

Ishigaki Island, Ryukyu County, Republic of China, 6 May 1911

"They are very motivated, Park," Colonel Michael Chen observed. "I don't blame them, though."

"Permission to speak freely, Colonel?"

"Granted." Still didn't feel right to be called that, but Michael was getting used to it.

"They're fighting for a homeland, just as you are. Or, I guess that makes all of us."

"Yeah… Think they'll be up for it?"

"Up for what, Colonel?"

"Liberating Korea. The plan, or at least the plan on paper, is that once we liberate China, you and your men can go over the Yalu and begin a revolt against the Japanese."

"Would they, Colonel? Hell yeah, they would. Should they, Colonel? With all due respect… that's a bad idea."

"I don't blame you, Park. I think it's a terrible plan… which is why that isn't the plan."

"Thank God. Can I ask another question?"

"Shoot."

"What exactly is the plan for liberating Korea, anyways?"

"Japan tries something stupid, the IJA makes the same mistake as the IJN and declare war on us, then they get annihilated? Something like that."

"Alright… Think they'll bite?"

"Doubt it. The IJA's prideful, but I don't think they're stupid. Probably."

"Here's hoping you're wrong, Colonel."

"Fair enough."

Here's hoping I'm right, though. God-willing, I don't have to mow down hundreds of men with my MG.

Fong Residence, Taipei, Chinese Taiwan, 10 May 1911

As far as Rachel was concerned, this wasn't the worst thing she'd spent money on.

No, that award went to buying DLC for Paradox games when they weren't on sale.

But at least this one had some sense to it. After all, power tools were possibly the most-practical products to export.

Weapons? Absolutely not.

Phones or computers? Kind of useless without towers or reliable sources of electricity. Or internet.

Cars? Good luck getting the right octane fuel, let alone maintenance.

But power tools? They weren't contraband, could be recharged at a portable solar generator, and were fairly easy to repair.

It was this reasoning, coupled with a massive trade deficit and having almost nothing else to reliably trade, that led to her placing a few calls to help a new acquaintance of hers.

After all, it wasn't like they had anywhere else to sell their tools to, and customs had cleared it.

Now, all it took was finding a way to convince a backwater colony that they should spend dollars on a replacement for power tools that they'd have to pay to recharge.

Short of a miracle, they'd have to come up with a clever way to convince people to pay up.

Manila, Philippines, 12 May 1911

Out of all the ideas he had come up with over the years, Manny Tsu was fairly certain this was one of the more insane ones.

Build an entire house in one day, using our tools. I mean, Laura's handy, and I'm no slouch, but come on.

But there they stood, in front of a decent-sized wooden building they'd built in a day.

Well, not a day, exactly, when they had spent the last week measuring and cutting everything for this stunt, but the crowd didn't need to know that part.

No, all they had to do was listen to him talk while his wife worked her magic in the background. Now that he thought about it, it wasn't that different from teaching a lecture back home, just with more weird looks.

Right... Interracial couple.

Which probably explained why some of the Americans whispered to themselves.

Still, their money was good enough, and plenty of men came by making offers.

From the looks of it, a good number of Filipino traders, too, which put him at ease.

It was good to be around people who looked and talked like him again. Sure, Taiwan was all well and good with its utilities and modern amenities, but it was nice to be around people who looked and talked like him.

As for Laura... well, she was always more of the people person. Helped that she'd learned Tagalog too, when they started dating.

Plus, he could probably build something with Laura's help to modernize the shop. It wasn't like they were running out of money anytime soon, even after the cut that one lady insisted on... What was her name again... Fong?

"Your accent," a young Filipino man interrupted, sending Manny back to reality. "You're from Formosa, yet you speak Tagalog like a local."

"I'm from Bulacan," Manny explained. "Obando. But I think my Lolo or his father came from Manila."

"Strange. I'm from Obando, and I've never seen you around there, before."

"Oh, I'm from the future."

"Ah... that explains it." Which, Manny would admit, still didn't sound right, even if it made sense. "Then maybe you know my family... Or at least my descendants."

Probably not. Lolo Manny talked about his father Vicente, but that was, what, decades ago?

"Depends. What's your name?"

"Tsu-"

Oh no fucking way.

"Alfredo Tsu. Pleased to meet you," the man said, offering his hand, which Manny readily shook.

Yup, called it. Not like your family was the only bunch of Chinese-looking Filipinos in Manila, right, Manny?

"Pleasure's all mine," Manny answered. "So, you're from Bulacan, too?"

"Yes. Well, my family's originally from Binondo, but Tatay wanted to expand the family business up nor-"

"Kuya?" another man called out to him, and ran up. "There you are! Did you find what you're looking for?"

"Sorry, brother. Must have gotten distracted. Anyways, brother, this is Mr. Tsu. He's Bulakenyo, like us, but he comes from that island from the future."

"Kamusta po," the brother greeted.

"And this," Alfredo continued, "Is my brother, Vicente Tsu-"

Oh, speak of the friggin' Devil...

"Now," his great-great-uncle continued, "Regarding the tools, do the batteries have to be recharged at the store, or could we purchase our own recharging device?"

"Yeah... I-I'm going to need a moment."

 

[ChrisProvidence]

Aerospace Industrial Development Corporation Headquarters, Taichung, Taiwan, Republic of China, 2 June 1911

"The production?" asked Hu Kai-Hung, "It's barely started, but we should be able to start producing spare parts by the end of the month, Minister. Raw resources remain an issue, though."

"We do have some imports that should be able to supplement. Coupled with the fact that the automobile industry has effectively been shuttered outside of war production, and you will be at the top of the list."

"That is good to hear. However, these things take time to develop, or in our case, reverse-engineer. Sure, this facility could create an Apache given enough time and resources and funding, but outside of one-off parts that can be built with our skunkworks on short notice, full-scale production will take months, if not years."

"Of course. But the question is whether or not you can build these."

"Assuming we get the materials and enough time, yes. However, facilities and equipment are a big investment, especially in this economy."

"You'll get your subsidies," the Minister promised. "How soon can we expect production?"

"Qe would need a few months to simply reverse-engineer parts and get the requisite machinery and tools; while we almost certainly have what we need, we need to know just what we need for, say, a C-130. And at least three more months to get the first planes built. Even moreso for an Apache."

"I see. You'll get your money and resources, Hu."

"Pleasure doing business with you, Minister."

Hu leaned back in his chair once the minister hung up. This proposal would either send the AIDC to new heights or crash it into ground.

But right now, he was just happy to still stay in business, instead of furloughing people like the telecom industry had been doing.

Keelung Harbor, Kee Lung, Taiwan, Republic of China

"Clear out!" The foreman shouted as the painters continued to paint over the newly-installed deck. "How does it look, Admiral?"

"For a converted cargo ship? I would say it looks passable."

"Much appreciated, sir," the foreman acknowledged. "This should be the last step."

"I see. And the others?"

"They should be ready in two weeks," the foreman answered. "You'll have your 'carriers.'"

In truth, the Admiral knew that under any other circumstances, he'd think this was a joke, but this was one of the few ways they could ever truly project power in this world.

After Project National Glory had ended in failure, the Republic of China Armed Forces had taken up a more defensive stance to keep the Communists away from Taiwan, and he was fairly sure that they could have defended the island from an invasion.

But with the ROC gearing up to support the Guangzhou Uprising, they needed some way to support the troops on the mainland without an airbase.

After some debate over the viability of dropping Lazy Dogs during the landing and a few tests, the Navy eventually decided to take a risk and build their own helicopter carriers.

Granted, "helicopter carrier" was a generous term for what were essentially cargo ships with steel plates and fuel tanks bolted on top of them, but they seemed to pass all the tests they'd given.

ROCMC Base Ishigaki, Ishigaki Island, Chinese Taipei

Rachel looked at the men firing their rifles. With Li busy dealing with the Tongmenghui and a good chunk of special forces out wreaking havoc among the Qing, she had ended up being the one teaching these Korean men about SERE training.

Well, she was supervising while a man with SERE training teaches these hundreds of men.

"They seem to be doing well," Park Yong-man observed, "These weapons seem rather powerful."

"They're almost fifty years ahead of their time, sir."

"And their tactics?"

"Satisfactory."

Because she wasn't going to say "Your men actually listen to orders for once."

"There's always room for improvement," Park mused. "Though once this is over, it will be Rhee's and Ahn's jobs to improve our country."

Tianmu Baseball Stadium, Taipei, Taiwan, Republic of China, 14 June 1911

As far as training went, Le Van Ninh had gone through worse. Sure, the US Army was unmatched, but it was better than what little they had in Rojava, at least.

Then again, he was once again training his fellow soldiers, though he was pretty sure these guys weren't anarchists this time.

No, the First Volunteer Battalion, nicknamed the "Lincoln Battalion" for all the Americans who volunteered, were a motley crew of uptime Americans who had served in Iraq and Afghanistan, as well as uptime and downtime civilian volunteers from the US and Canada.

Which, somehow, was how he ended up as a drill sergeant, seeing that the Chinese were strapped for manpower, and at least everyone in this unit spoke English.

Still, they were as quick learners as the anarchists he'd trained back in Rojava. In all likelihood, they were as idealistic as well.

And about as laid-back as most soldiers were, when they were off-duty.

"You two here for the game?" he asked two of the volunteers he recognized, and they nodded. "Private Cohen and Corporal Diamond, right?"

The two men nodded again.

"Just showing Private Cohen the Great American Pastime, Sergeant. Plus, it's not every day I run into another member of Taiwan's Jewish community."

"I think we are the Jewish community at this point, Jacob."

"They're giving you guys all the religious accommodations you need, right?"

"Yes, sir. Took some explaining, but they came around."

"Good. Now, I'm not interrupting anything, am I?"

"No, not anything in particular," Cohen told him. "Just an interesting hypothetical scenario."

"Mind settling an argument for us, Sergeant?" Le shrugged. "If either of us traveled to Austria and tried to kill Hitler, do you think we could pull it off?"

"…What."

"The Corporal here is arguing that either of us would have a decent chance of doing so. I am inclined to disagree, given that it would likely have to be done in broad daylight."

"And I think it's doable, assuming we kill him while he's alone."

"That would still be murder, Corporal," Cohen pointed out. "And the authorities would still prosecute you accordingly."

"It's Hitler, Moshe."

"Alright, alright," Le interrupted. "I think it's doable, but you would have to do it subtly or at a distance. A suppressed weapon would definitely help your odds."

"Told you."

"I guess so."

"Just promise me one thing."

"Sure, Sarge."

"Promise me you two won't run off and go try to murder Hitler or something."

Diamond sighed.

"I think I can speak for the two of us when I say that we will not go AWOL and murder Adolf Hitler."

"…Eh, close enough."

Shanghai International Settlement, 15 June 1911

He'd made it.

After months struggling to make it out of the Taiwanese's clutches, he'd finally managed to slip away.

"You are a fucking genius," he'd told himself, and made doubly sure that he still had the papers on him.

He would get his reward, and perhaps nip this problem in the bud before the Cultural Marxists got even a toehold.

Sure, he would possibly be dooming the Chinese people to another generation of Qing rule, but that was a sacrifice he was willing to make to secure a future for his future children.

Then it hit him.

"Where the fuck do I go?"

 

[ChrisProvidence]

Ryukyu County, Republic of China, July 15, 1911

"So," Chen began, looking over his lunch. "What are they serving today?"

"Fish," his assistant told him, and handed him the box. "Your favorite."

"It's always fish, Aki. Sushi, grilled fish, sushi, fried fish, sushi, barbecued fish, sushi, fish stew, sushi, and sushi."

"I thought you liked sushi."

"Not that much. Think I eat more of it here than I did in college."

"I see. Well, you do have those cans of meat that your mother keeps sending you."

"The Spam's for a special occasion. And under lock and key until I have time to cook again."

"The men giving you trouble?"

"The opposite. They're more motivated than ever, which means we keep running maneuvers. And it's not just the Koreans anymore."

"I see. Can I ask a question?"

"You know, you don't have to ask."

"Right. You are the commander of this unit, yes?"

"Yup."

"Then why are you in the field with your men? Shouldn't a commander be in his headquarters?"

"Eh, probably. Problem is, we've been undermanned until recently, and now we have the exact opposite problem."

"Too many soldiers?"

"Okay, so not the exact opposite. We don't have enough officers. Well, we do, but when it comes to tankers like me, well, we're in short supply."

"So you command your tank."

"Yes."

"While commanding your battalion."

"Also yes."

"How?"

"Lots of practice multitasking." And being one of the few people who didn't try to get myself reassigned to the rear.

"Ah. So, do you think they're ready?"

"Do you want my honest opinion, Aki?" She nodded. "I don't know. Will they do fine? Probably, with how their morale is. But do I know for sure? No. None of us have ever seen combat before."

"Is it that bad?"

"God, no. If I can go my whole life without shooting people, I will die a very happy man. Assuming I make it to old age, anyways. But I know what could happen and what I want to happen are two different things. And that's why we're all training so hard, Aki."

"I see. Well, I have some good news, at least."

"Oh? Is it movie night again?"

"Yes. And we aren't watching that comedy movie again, are we?"

"Wolf Warrior 2? We can't Aki. Even if we wanted to."

"Oh, right. Agent Fong threw the disk and shot it with her pistol."

"I don't blame her. That movie sucked."

"I thought you said we had to be careful with the disks because there might not be any other copies."

"Eh, it was pirated."

"Still, she did run the risk of permanently destroying a part of your world's history. Wouldn't it be better to at least keep one copy for archival purposes?"

"Okay, Aki, but have you considered that it was also possibly the most racist movie you've ever seen?"

"I grew up on an island in the middle of the sea. I can count the number of movies I've seen on one hand."

"Right. Well, have you considered that nothing of value would be lost?"

"…You really don't like that movie, do you?"

"Nope. Second-worst movie I've ever seen in my life."

"Second-worst?"

"Yeah. Fucking Kevin Sorbo."

Location Classified, Chinese Taipei

"Your papers are all in order, Ma'am," the soldier said as he gave them back to her. "I can print out a copy of the manifest for you, if you'd like."

"Yes please," answered Rachel. "If it's no trouble, I'd like to have a look inside."

"If you insist. You're clear to enter."

"Thank you."

She could hear her footsteps echoing throughout the hallway, at least until the powered door screeched open for her.

"Thank you, Mao Zedong," she whispered to herself.

As wrong as it felt to say that, even sarcastically, she had a point. Ever since the "ROC" had gotten kicked off the mainland, they'd spent seventy years and billions of dollars building and buying equipment to keep the Communists on the other side of the Strait.

Well, except for that time with Project National Glory, but they didn't talk about that. Even if that was the reason they had these bunkers.

Billions of dollars spent on weapons, ammunition, supplies, and fuel for an invasion that would never come, led by an organization that wouldn't exist for at least another decade.

"All to keep the Communists busy until the Americans showed up," was what the clerk at the last supply depot had said, and he probably had a point.

Or he would have, if he was still in the 21st Century.

These weapons weren't going to be used on the Communists.

Nor were the Americans coming to their rescue.

But as she looked at the vast arrays of weapons racks and their contents, she knew that China wouldn't need the Americans' help.

Zhejiang Province, Qing Empire

"Any word from home, Dex?" Rick asked as he walked back into his makeshift office.

Or what counted as an office when you were hiding in a farm house in Zhejiang province.

"I think Mom's doing alright. Dad's still trying to get her a place outside of the temp hotels."

"I thought they liked the hotel. Let me guess: Dad wanted to cook again?"

"Yeah, he's still getting used to moving back from Korea, I guess. Anyways, how are the recruits training?"

"They're getting there," Rick confirmed. After making contact with the Tongmenghui, they'd managed to find some brave men and women who'd wanted to free China from the Qing. Of course, most of their contacts were military men themselves, including one Jiang Jieshi. "Not much else to do here."

"Well, it's not like we can actively raid the Army here. Last thing we want to do is accidentally shoot the Generalissimo when he's younger than either of us."

"So, back to training, I guess."

"Yeah. Hey, look on the bright side. Come Double Ten Day, we'll drive the Qing up the walls.

Tianjin Concession, July 31, 1911

William Ryan sat in a dark office, feeling rather full of himself. After all, he'd come close to completing his plan.

Before him was an official of the Qing Empire, along with a translator who'd been working to bridge the gap between these two.

"This is everything, yes?" The officer asked him in the dimly-lit office. "The names of all the revolutionaries?"

"Every last one of them," Ryan said after the translation, "Watch out for Chiang, though. He's a slippery little ch-"

The translator struggled for a bit, then relayed the message to the official.

"The Qing Empire thanks you for your service, Mr. Ryan."

"And my reward?"

"See to it that Mr. Ryan is provided three hundred taels of silver," the official instructed.

Ryan's face formed a smug yellow grin once the translator told him.

"Fuckin' genius!" he'd shouted upon leaving the building.

"Is that him, Dex?" Richard asked from a hundred meters away, his eyes focused on the Irishman in front of them.

"Yup, that's him. Looks like Du's intel was good."

"Should we move in?"

"That's your call, big brother."

"Let's get this son of a bitch."

Report: "On Occupation and Assimilation," by Agent Martin Li

In light of our lofty goals in aiding Sun's forces, it is worth covering our plans for effectively occupying and subsequently integrating captured territories.

While it is important that we liberate said land first, it is also important to cover what we will do afterwards to avert a warlord scenario.

To that end, it would be better to describe this in terms of phases.

Phase 0: Liberation

This largely covers the part where we actually take territory. I'll leave this to the military, but the plan is rather straightforward: Show up and kill anyone who is still loyal to the Qing.

Phase 1: Occupation

This phase will be largely done through a combination of ROC Armed forces (Armed Forces), Partisans, and Defecting Units. All three forces will conduct multiple sweeps through the the provinces to confiscate any weapons of war and set up a military occupation until Taiwanese advisors and local TMH leaders are able to begin a civil administration.

During this time, forces will be dispersed to firebases, with a central base providing a sizable "Quick Response Force" to assist with major threats, followed by escalating response forces if necessary (airpower, armored units, etc).

During this time, the local forces will deal with the surrender, transportation, defection, and if necessary, elimination, of any remaining military forces, as well as the capture of any and all High Value Targets (HVTs).

Phase 2: Ingratiation

It is of the utmost importance that we ingratiate ourselves to the locals as soon as possible to limit unrest. To this end, while the civil administration is being formally set up, we must be sure to do everything within our means to not antagonize them.

This will largely take the form of respecting languages via toleration and providing translators (courtesy of volunteers and academics), providing free medical support (also via volunteers and military personnel), as well as providing toys, food, and candies to win over the youth.

Of course, this isn't all that will be done, but it is to be an example.

Phase 3: Civilian Administration

During this time, the civil administrations will be set up, largely consisting of local GMD supporters as well as volunteers and advisors from Taiwan. Said civil administration will handle distribution of supplies, thr basic running of the government, and People's Education, as detailed in the next step.

Phase 4: People's Education

In this step, we will dispatch teachers, politicians, and and translators to promote our democratic ideals to the people of the provinces. We will be collaborating with local GMD leaders and other sympathetic local leaders to provide increased legitimacy to the new state.

During this phase, it is of the utmost importance that we scout out prospective leaders and foster their development and ascension through the ranks. These people will be our prime assets against counter-revolutionary forces in the short and long term, and they will be better at promoting our cause than us outsiders could ever hope.

Phase 5: Integration

Once a functioning local administration is in order, we can begin providing services and utilities, including but not limited to sanitation, electrification, education, transportation, resource exploitation, industrialization, and communication.

This, of course, will be done in coordination with the civilian administration for the day-to-day, while the military assists in security and logistics.

Phase 6: Democratization

Once all prerequisites are fulfilled, we may begin the democratization process. Under said process, local municipalities will begin electing leaders.

Through our fostering and education of prospective leaders, coupled with goodwill campaigns and good old fashioned propaganda, it is likely that we will experience great amounts of success.

Phase 7: Elimination

While we will be doing phases 0-6, MIB units will be eliminating particular HVTs, as designated by HISTINT and HUMINT. Said individuals include Triad leaders, potential warlords, Qing loyalists and sympathizers, and other high-level threats.

While this may be unsavory, it may be a necessary evil to prevent any Warlord or Qing Restorationist efforts.

Summary

In short, it would be idiotic to try to assist in a revolution without thinking about what happens later. Thankfully, the GMD and Taipei have at least that much foresight.

While largely ad-hoc at times, we have managed to find the right people for the job. Granted, this may also be due to a good chunk of workers being furloughed and not part of "High-Priority Skill" careers (TMSC for example of the "High-Priority Skill" careers).

Come Double Ten Day, we will be ready for what comes afterwards.

Agent Martin Li

EDITOR'S NOTE

Phase 8: Extraction

It is worth noting that during the Xinhai Revolution, there were many atrocities committed. From forced marriages to abductions to …other unspeakable acts that could be committed.

Much of which was done to Manchu women.

To that end, I proposed that we inform the relevant MIB units in the field and devise an evacuation contingency in case of such events to bring victims to Taiwan for recovery and rehabilitation.

While the Qing are our enemies, many of these women are not Qing. And even if they are, I do not believe that they deserve to be kidnapped, forcibly married, or abused.

-Agent Rachel Fong

STATUS: APPROVED

Beiyang Army Headquarters, Beijing, China

"General Yuan!" A messenger calls after him. "A message for you."

"Thank you," Yuan Shikai said as he opened up the message. "Hm..."

"Is there any update on the prison attack?" Duan asked. "Anything that links them to the Tongmenghui."

"It seems unlikely, Duan. The shells found at the scene seems to be a more modern weapon, which would mean that the Taiwanese had something to do with it."

"It is possible," Duan agreed. "Though how did they get in?"

"Likely with some inside men," Yuan figured. "Unless they managed to fly into the prison, then it is likely that there were sympathizers on the inside."

"I see... If I may, General, I would recommend a crackdown among all forces to root out any Republican sympathizers."

"That seems to be our best option," Yuan agreed.

"Telegram for you sir!" a second subordinate said before he handed the message to the General. Duan stepped back to give Yuan space, emphasizing that he was not peering at what might not be for him.

The corridor grew quiet, or at least it would have, were it not for the steps of the messenger running down the halls.

"This might just be what we needed, Duan."

 

[ChrisProvidence]

Bridge of the Aki, Near Karafuto, Japanese-Controlled Waters, 8 August 1911

"I don't like this," Sakurai grumbled while he looked through the telescope. "We're a warship, but right now, we're just staring down the Russians."

"The threat of force might be more useful than actual force," Commander Fukuyuma said to hthe navigations officer. "Our simple presence is enough to scare the Russians away."

"The Russians think we're weak after that battle."

"Which is why we're here," the Captain said from his chair. "If Russia tries anything, we will be the first line of defense against the Tsar."

"Let's hope that day never comes," Fukuyuma muttered. "For the sake of everyone involved."

"We beat them the first time."

"When we still had a Navy, Sakurai," the XO pointed out, "We're going to need time to rebuild."

Location Redacted, Shanghai International Legation

The Hu brothers had been inseparable, or at least as far back as they could remember. The twins had been baptized together, moved to and from San Francisco together, studied together, and even joined the ASSC together.

Now they could add, "beat up reactionary monarchists together" to that list.

"You fucking assholes," Ryan wheezed, "You're too late."

"It's like talking to the comments section on a YouTube video," Dexter groaned, getting a chuckle out of his brother. "What's so funny?"

"It just seems ridiculous," Rick chuckled, "Some idiot-"

"Genius!" Ryan shouted back from the chair.

"Zip it, Gweilo!" the younger brother said before he switched to Cantonese. "Anyways, some idiot managed to print out a bunch of articles on the people we're here to train, smuggled himself out, and managed to moron his way onto the mainland."

"That's why we're dressed as Triads, isn't it?"

"Yup. So, anything we missed?"

"No, that sounds about it, Rick."

Still, Dexter wanted to make sure, so he'd asked the man himself.

"Hey, asshole! Is there anything else you want to tell us?"

"You and all your commie buddies are going to die! Your precious Mao'll be dead by the end of the week!"

Dex looked at his brother, who gave him a similar weird look.

Communist?

Mao?

If it weren't for the fact that this idiot may have managed to fuck up their entire operation, they'd have probably burst into laughter.

Okay, so he's not some mastermind. He's fucking stupid.

"Yeah, we should load him up, send him on the next ship, and make our next move, Dex."

The older brother nodded, and turned to the slightly-beaten man before them.

Oh, he wanted to blow this guy's head off so badly right now. It would just make his day.

"Thanks for the extra work, asshole."

Shaoshan, Hunan, Qing Empire

"What has that boy gotten himself into this time?" Yicheng said to the soldiers at his door. "Did he say that Sun Yat-Sen should be president again?"

It was probably that, he guessed. After all, it's not as if his son could cut off his queue pigtails again.

"We have reason to suspect that he is a member of one of the revolutionary societies," the officer informed him, "We simply want to talk. That is all."

"Then why do you have half a dozen soldiers?"

"For protection."

Yicheng knew that was bullshit. A part of him did, anyways, but he wasn't going to let them anywhere near his son.

Even if his son had refused an arranged marriage, run away from home, cut off his queue, told his teacher that Sun Yat-Sen should become President of China, and had recently claimed that if the Republic of China could beat the Japanese, they could destroy the Qing.

After all, he was his son's father. Not these men. If they were to discipline his children, then he had clearly failed as a father.

"I'm sure I can beat it through his head, Corporal," Yicheng insisted. "He'll be focused on his studies."

"That wasn't an order. Let us in, or we will force our way-"

The corporal's head exploded into a fine red mist coming out the side while his corpse slumped to the wall.

The next soldier's chest exploded a second later, and he too collapsed to the ground.

"Sniper!" shouted one of the remaining soldiers, before his arm flew off and he'd spun backwards.

"Do you see him!"

"No!" another shouted back. It'd be the last thing out of his throat before a bullet sailed through it.

Yicheng could only watch, stunned as the other few soldiers collapsed on his doorstep.

"What have you gotten yourself into, my son?"

Hangzhou Garrison, Zhejiang Province, Qing Empire

"I leave my fate in your hands," Lieutenant Jiang said to his men in the barracks. "It seems that they only want me. The Revolution must live on through you, my brothers."

How did they know?

He scanned the room in front of him. Did someone talk?

No, he knew he trusted these men. They'd studied together, trained together, and even deserted the IJA together.

"Like fucking hell we're going to do that," one of the Privates muttered as he stood up, pulled a rifle from the rack, and fixed a bayonet. "The Revolution begins tonight."

"Thank you, Private" he said with a polite nod. "And the rest of you?"

The men around him fetched their own rifles and fixed their bayonets.

"I thank all of you," Jiang breathed, and turned towards the far end of the room, away from the doors. "Turn off the lights."

A moment later, the door swung open.

"Lieutenant Jiang Jieshi!" a Captain's voice shouted through the darkness, lantern in hand, "You are under arrest for treason!"

It'd be the last thing he'd shouted before a dozen bayonets impaled him.

Ishigaki Military Base, Ryukyu County, Taiwan, Republic of China

Akira Higa was not a morning person, despite working for the military.

As much as island life could be boring, it at least meant that she could sleep in. Though Michael did try to accommodate for her.

This was not one of those mornings. Not when he was running around his quarters and packing his bags while the sirens went off.

"You've triple-checked everything, you know."

"I like to be thorough. Plus, I don't know when I'll be back."

"It's happening?"

"I think so, Aki. My men have been training every day for this moment. Still can't believe it's happening."

"Are you nervous?"

"God, yes. Don't get me wrong, I think we're as ready as we can ever be. Just… I've never really seen combat before."

"I can only imagine. Are you scared?"

"Probably. Excited, too."

"You don't look like that."

"Well… I have to set an example, right?"

"I suppose. So, are you ready, or are you going to need to go through your entire pack again?"

"I'm good. Got everything. Well, almost everything."

With that, he walked over to his desk and handed her a tablet.

"Michael, I can't accept this. Don't you need this?"

"No. That's my laptop. This is my tablet. Or, I guess, your tablet."

"Is this a goodbye?"

"Nah. I just don't think I'll have any use for it while I'm gone, so I loaded it up with books and movies. Should help fight off the boredom."

"Thank you." Her eyes practically lit up at the news. "Good luck."

"Thanks. Keep me in your prayers."

"You know I don't worship the same god you do, right, Michael

"At this point, I'll take all the help I can get, Aki."

ROCS Huang Xing, Location Classified, 8 August 1911

This was insane. She'd prepared for it, but it still sounded as crazy as it did the first time she'd heard it.

Somehow, some way, the military had not only converted a massive cargo ship into a makeshift helicopter carrier, but they also trained her and the rest of Dragon Squadron to land and takeoff from it with their Apaches.

It did make some sense, now that she thought about it. Helicopters were pretty much the only vertical take off and landing aircraft they had that could be landed on what was, in effect, a floating airfield.

Of course, Captain Shu-Fan "Shannon" Wu would definitely count her blessings.

Because from the looks of it, the Army would be crossing in up-armored ferries they had commandeered.

Did they train to use them? Yes.

Did it seem as ridiculous as it did when she first heard of it? Also yes.

Would it work? Probably yes.

Of course, it could always be worse.

The Marines were compensating for their lack of landing craft by commandeering as many flat-bottomed boats that they could get their hands on and attaching pontoons to stay afloat.

Which they then planned to ram into the shores as landing craft for their M60s, Humvees, and APCs.

Honestly, she was surprised that they came up with the idea, and even more surprised that it actually worked.

At this point, she decided to just go with it. They would get across the Strait and bring the fight to the Manchus.

Through sheer stubbornness and ingenuity, if nothing else.

 

[ChrisProvidence]

To put it mildly, Tsar Nikolai II was ecstatic.

While he did have his own issues to contend with, chief among them being the prevention of the next war that was to come, he had reason to be happy.

After all, this "Island from the Future," as the island of Formosa had been called, had sunk his greatest eastern rival in a matter of hours.

He thought it was a joke at first, or one of Rasputin's ramblings.

Yet his own diplomats confirmed it, and the generals vouched for them.

In one night, the Islanders had undone his greatest humiliation and defanged his greatest rival. Why wouldn't he be happy?

After all, he had an opportunity to right a previous wrong and prevent a future tragedy.

News of this "Great War" had spread in the past few months, and it was safe to say that none of the monarchs were so eager to collapse their empires.

To that end, the Conference of Copenhagen had been scheduled in a month to prevent the Great War, as a sort of "Concert of Europe" born anew.

It was ambitious, yes, but the Kaisers, Tsars, Kings, and Sultans had little interest in a bloody war that would lead to the rise of Communism.

Of course, more… proactive measures had to be taken, and the Tsar had been more than willing to use the Okhrana for their intended purpose.

After all, he couldn't have his own intelligence agency supporting his greatest threats, now could he?

No, he had the names, just as he had their locations (or at least their general areas). And he had his top men (or whoever passed for them) with specific orders (and a blind eye from the British, so long as they didn't wreak any havoc).

It was his hope that taking a proactive measure could throttle the Reds in the crib.

Of course, that was in the West. In the East, he had more… ambitious plans.

Just as the Ottomans were "Sick Man of Europe," the once-mighty Qing were the "Sick Man of Asia."

The last century had seen to that, after all, and that was before the revolutionaries found themselves an entire island of advanced technology.

And with Japan licking its wounds (as well as its entire fleet and thousands of men at the bottom of the sea), he had a free hand in the region if he simply waited for it.

The plan was rather simple, when he got down to it.

Odd as it was, he knew that the Islanders planned to start a revolution in China, one that would see the Qing focused on China Proper.

And if they were focused on China Proper, they would not have their eyes on the periphery, would they? Of course, Japan would have their eyes fixated there, but they would lack the capacity to intervene by sea, on account of their fleet being sunk.

Which left Russia with a free hand in Xinjiang, Mongolia, or even Manchuria, if he was daring enough.

After all, he and his general staff still remembered the last war, and they'd like to get Port Arthur back.

It would prove that yes, he was his father's equal, if not his better, would it not?

And all he had to do was move his men into position and wait for the right moment.

It was times like these that he thanked God for the Trans-Siberian Railway.

Of course, he had more important things to attend to. After all, he had heard rumors that the Islanders had a cure for his son's hemophilia, or at least a treatment.

And he would move Heaven and Earth for his beloved son.

 

[ChrisProvidence]

Guangzhou (Contested Territory), China, 10 August 1911

"Throwing smoke!" Li shouted as he tossed the grenade down the road. "Riflemen, fan out and defend! The rest of you, take up defensive positions on the rooftop!"

"Got it!" The uniformed men with rifles agreed, before running off.

For a bunch of would-be martyrs, they were more than capable of holding their own against the reinforcements, and the New Army soldiers with white cloths on their sleeves were no slouches, either.

So far, the Uprising had been going pretty well. They'd taken all their objectives, and the local New Army garrison had defected, along with a few of their MIB contacts.

Granted, that'd been a few days ago, long enough for the Qing to awaken to the uprisings and dispatch reinforcements, and they've started coming in force.

"All forces, this is Major Li Wuhan of the TMH Guangzhou rebels, broadcasting on an open channel. We are holding our position but are in danger of being surrounded. Can anyone respond?"

To his dismay, he could hear nothing over the gunfire.

"All forces, this is Major Li Wuhan of the Tongmenghui, requesting assistance at the following coordinates-"

"This is Colonel Chen of the Marines, callsign Tiger 1, moving in to support," crackled a voice on the radio, "Can anyone hear us?"

"Mike?"

"Marty, is that you?"

"Yeah, I hear you!" Li shouted over the radio, "How far out are you?"

"About one click south of your position. Should be there in a minute with the tanks."

"Copy, Colonel. Don't fire on any units with white flags or blue and white flags!"

"Got it. Oh, and Marty?"

"Yeah?"

"You might want to get down."

"Way ahead of you!" Li shouted. After all, the loyalists were moving up on them. And if his eyes were good, he could see them moving machine guns and a field gun up the road.

"Tiger 1, you mind hurrying up?"

As if on cue, a massive explosion roared down the road, sending stone and mortar walls sailing into the advancing loyalists.

In their place was a fifty-ton vehicle spewing machine gun fire as its main cannon fired up the road.

Li was shocked, to say the least, and it wasn't just the ringing in his ears.

And from the looks of it, so were the rest of the Tongmenghui with him.

"…What the fuck is that?" Lea asked, seemingly speaking for everyone. "That's ours, right, Li?"

"Yeah, that's ours. See the white sun?"

"I see it," Lea agreed, before another load shot rang through their ears.

Behind them was another tank, followed by APCs that halted and started deploying soldiers.

"Hold fire! Friendlies!" a Marine shouted over the radio as his men disembarked and ran up to them. "Good to see you, Marty."

"Same here." Li nodded to his old friend, "Where were you guys?"

"Took a while to load. One of the landing craft got stuck in the coral. How are your guys holding up?"

"Pretty well. Couple of them got hit, but the plates saved 'em. We're running low on plates and ammo, though."

"I hear you. The Huang can fly in a Blackhawk to drop off supplies and medevac anyone. After that, you guys can link up with us after we win this for you."

"Someone's feeling cocky."

"And that someone has a tank, Marty. Only thing they have that can even try damage us is those field guns, and most of them got blown up by the drones and Apaches."

"Yeah. Speaking of, Mike, where did Dragon Squadron fly off to?"

"They're cutting off the reinforcements as we speak," Chen said, then looked at his watch. "They should be loaded for a second run now."

"How far out are they?"

A familiar roar came back from the beach.

"Oh."

500 m Above Guangzhou

"ROCS Huang Xing to Dragon 1. We have a UAV sighting enemy artillery to the north of Guangzhou."

"Roger, Huang Xing. Dragon 1 and Dragon 2 are moving in to attack. Dragon 3 and Dragon 4, move to assist friendly units. Beware of friendly fire."

"Roger, Dragon 1."

"I have eyes on the guns and a supply dump," her co-pilot said, "five hundred meters."

"Firing rockets."

The canopy shook for a second, but it was back to normal the next.

"Good effect on target, Captain," said the co-pilot. "Artillery and supply dump neutralized."

"Dragon 1 to Huang Xing. Enemy artillery is suppressed."

"Good work, Dragon 1. Let's see... we have eyes on a train coming from the south, about a hundred miles north in Shaoguan. Possibly carrying reinforcements and commanders. You're clear to engage."

"Roger, Overlord. Dragon 2, you're with us. Three, four, stay here to support the Marines and rebels."

"Will do, Dragon 1," Three's pilot crackled through her earpiece. "Happy hunting."

Outside Shaoguan, Qing Empire

General Duan Qirei looked over the intelligence he had, and he was hardly happy.

From the looks of it, a good chunk of the New Army had defected to the rebels, and what remained was getting overrun.

Still, Yuan had faith in him, and in the Beiyang Army troops under his command, and he had no reason to do otherwise.

"This is our chance to show these rebels and those bureaucrats in the Forbidden City the true strength of the Beiyang Army," Yuan had told him.

From a numbers perspective, Duan guessed that they would have a fair chance. After all, they had over hundred thousand men still on their side, and that loan from the Westerners would keep them supplied for the near future.

Of course, both he and Yuan were hoping to bring things to a standstill and negotiate with these rebels. Yuan told him that they were the only thing keeping the Qing in power, and Sun knew this as well as he did, even if the traitor had demanded unconditional surrender.

Still, he had his misgivings. After all, many plans tended to fall apart once the bullets started flying, and this was no exception.

But when it came down to it, he shouldn't be too worried. At the end of the day, these rebels were outmanned, out-trained, and in all likelihood, outgunned as well.

"Open fire!" a muffled voice screamed from outside, followed by the sounds of explosions and screams as his carriage flee upwards.

Duan slammed into the window, pistol in hand, and braced himself for the landing.

AH-64 Apache, Dragon 1, Outside of Shaoguan

"Train is derailed," her co-pilot confirmed. "Good effect on target."

"Dragon 2, how are you doing on fuel?"

"We've got enough to make another pass with the rockets, but then we'll need to RTB."

"Roger, Dragon 2. We'll mop up after you."

"Like lambs to a slaughter," her co-pilot muttered.

"You alright, Tang?"

"I'll be fine, Captain," he insisted. "Just feeling a little pity for the person we're about to blow up."

"Alright then," she said as their Apache turned back around. "Good effect on target, Dragon 2. Dragon 1 is moving in to sweep up the stragglers."

Location Unknown, Hunan Province, Free China

He had to run. He just had to.

What else could he do? Stay home and risk hurting his family?

No, he couldn't. Backwards as his old life may have been, he wouldn't risk his family's safety yet again.

But what else could he do? He was hardly the traveling type, nor a survivalist.

Which left only one option, the young man decided, before walking up to the table in the middle of the village.

There was a decently-large line, and it took time for him to get up to the front.

"Aren't you a little young for this?"

"Will that be an issue, sergeant?"

The man shook his head.

"So, what can I do for you, young man?"

"I would like to join the National Revolutionary Army, sir."

"Alright. What is your name?"

Right… He couldn't use his own name. Not when the Qing were looking for him.

So he needed to come up with a, what was it the French called it? Nom de Guerre?

"…My name is Lei Feng, sir."

Streets of Shanghai, Shanghai (Contested Territory), China, 11 August 1911

"Hey, Sarge?"

"Yeah, Diamond?" Le asked his fellow American. After all, they had some downtime right now. "What's up?"

"Is combat usually this easy?"

"Huh?"

"I mean, don't get me wrong, it's dangerous and everything, but it kind of feels like we let the Cobras do all the heavy lifting by bombing the crap out of the Loyalists… then let the tanks go first because the Cobras exploded everything that could hurt them."

"That's exactly what we did," Cohen pointed out. "Which is why, besides a few waves on the ferry over here, we faced little resistance."

"Basically," Le agreed. "Back when I served in the US Army, we always had air superiority. Kind of like this, but way better-coordinated."

"What about Rojava?"

"Depends on if the US troops were working with us. And if we were fighting guys like Wagner… Well, let's just say that any military that actively pursues a fair fight is run by fucking morons."

"Basically," Le continued, "You don't want a fair fight. You want to use every advantage in the book that you have at your disposal. And if that means the helicopters and tanks make it a near-cakewalk for the infantry, then so be it."

"Makes sense," Cohen agreed. "It's like a bar fight. While you could agree to good old-fashioned fisticuffs, you'll want to throw a few headbutts and kicks to the groin if you want to keep all your teeth."

"That makes sense," Diamond told the two of them. "So, what do we do, now?"

"Wait for the helicopters to annihilate the Qing reinforcements."

 

[ChrisProvidence]

Shanghai, Republic of China, 12 August 1911

Jiang wasn't a stupid man, not by any means. If he was, nobody in their right mind would have trusted him with field artillery.

And it wasn't as if he'd never seen an automobile during his time in Japan.

But these? These "tanks," as the Taiwanese soldiers called them, were something else. A combination of machine guns, armor, and field artillery, he figured they were more land-ship than tank.

"This is one of the weapons of the future," he said to two of the men from Taiwan as the tank rolled off the transport. "Amazing."

"Sort of," one of the soldiers, Richard, answered. "The bottom part is from the sixties, the turret's from the forties, and the inside's from the nineties."

"Aren't you from the next century?" The other soldier, Dexter, nodded, from his resting spot. "Why are you using weapons decades in the past?"

"Do you want the long answer or the short answer?"

"What's the long answer?"

"We've been modifying these over the last fifty years," Richard began, "Since it costs less to modify old tanks than purchase or build new ones, we refitted the old ones. Not to mention that we were kinda under an arms embargo."

"I see..." It did make sense to Jiang, now that he thought about it. After all, these vehicles certainly looked expensive, and any tank was better than no tanks like the Qing had. "And the short answer?"

"A tank's a tank," Dexter interrupted. "We have a lot of them, but nobody wanted to sell us new ones."

Changsha, Hunan Province, Republic of China

"Thank you for the assistance, Dragon 1," the commander shouted into the radio, then turned to his men. "The artillery has been destroyed! Move on towards the Governor's Mansion!"

The soldiers roared at the news and the mix of Marines, New Army defectors, and Revolutionaries fanned out throughout the city.

"Lei Feng, you're with us!" a soldier shouted, and he ran off to join him.

Lei Feng.

That was what he'd gone by ever since those men had come to his father's house, and that was the name he'd gone by after he ran off to join the revolutionar-

"Sniper!" someone shouted, and Lei leapt behind a building. "Can anyone see him?"

"I see nothing!" the Corporal shouted, and tossed a smoke grenade into the street. "Ma, you and Lei flank around through the alleys while we keep him pinned. Understood?"

"Yes sir!" Lei acknowledged, and ran off following the older soldier down the alley.

"Come on, I'll help you up," Ma said, and helped Lei up to the roof of one of one of the shorter buildings. "Do you see him?"

"I see a rifle pointing out the window," Lei shouted back, and Ma tossed a couple grenades up to him. "I can get him."

"These'll work better!" Ma shouted over the gunfire. "Aim, pull the pin, and throw it!"

Lei aimed his grenade, doing his best to aim his arc.

He pulled the in, and tossed it through the window, ducking down when he'd seen the blast.

Lei peered up to see a few Qing troops moving a machine gun down below him.

He looked back, grabbed the other grenade, and tossed it down towards the street.

Below he could hear screams, then blasts, then silence.

"Is he dead?" Ma called after him. "Lei!"

"I'm here!" he shouted, "I got him! And the machine gun!"

"Good work! Now let's get back to the Corporal!"

Presidential Office Building, Taipei, Taiwan, 14 August 1911

President Tsai could have sworn that every time she had been here, there were soldiers running back and forth.

Then again, she usually found herself here when the military was on high alert, and invading the Qing Empire was no exception.

"So far, the Qing have suffered heavy casualties and are in full retreat from our eastern and southern fronts. General Duan Qirei is presumed dead, along with General Feng Guozhang."

"And General Yuan Shikai?"

"Probably panicking," the general guessed. "His top two men are dead, so he's likely regrouping. The south of China is either liberated or undergoing rebellions, and the north might be next."

"Our helicopters did annihilate much of their reinforcements," Tsai recalled. It wasn't fair, not by any means, but war isn't fair. And if that meant exploding trains of men who had never even heard of a helicopter, then so be it. "Please continue."

"As for us," the General pivoted, turning to the map, "the bulk of the Army has landed at the beachheads in Shanghai and Fuzhou, among other locations along the coast, while the bulk of the Marines have landed in Guangzhou and Xiamen, and are moving up to meet with General Huang Xing in Changsha."

Tsai simply nodded at what the general was telling her, and looked at the data from the Xinhai Revolution.

"I take it that we match them on manpower?"

"Indeed, Madame President. In fact, we likely outnumber them in the field due to the sheer losses they have taken."

Not that it really mattered. She, as well as everyone else in the room knew that numbers didn't mean so much when one side could bomb the other with near impunity.

"Casualties?"

"Very low on our end," the general informed her, much to her relief. "We've lost a about a hundred defectors during the uprisings, along with dozen Marines during the landings, and another couple hundred rebels taking Changsha."

"I see..." Still, that was a few hundred more than she'd like to lose. "And the units behind enemy lines?"

Ürümqi, Xinjiang Province, Qing Empire

"Is that him?" the voice asked through their earpieces as they sat on the hilltop. "Do you have a positive ID on Yang?"

"Unless someone else is dressed like that and is giving orders, I think we have our man. Please advise."

"Hold your fire," the commander instructed. "We might only get one shot at this, so let's make it count. Wait for the friendly units to get into position."

"Roger that, boss. We'll keep an eye on them for now. Permission to engage if he's leaving?"

"Permission granted, but otherwise hold your fire," their commander instructed. "One, signing off."

"Looks like we'll be here a while," the spotter said to his partner. "Good thing we're all ghillied up."

Xianyang, Shaanxi Province, Qing Empire

"How many did you say there were?" Kenny Ma asked the drone operator. "It sounded like you said there were thousands of them."

"Six to sixteen thousand," the soldier clarified. "About half a day's march from here."

"Fuck." He wasn't one for numbers, but that put him at three-to-one if they were lucky, and eight-to-one if they were unlucky.

He turned to the pilots of the four Black Hawks that'd landed to reinforce them.

"How much fuel do you have?"

"Enough for a dozen strafing runs, but we only have enough ammo for two to four."

"Target artillery, troop concentrations, and the enemy commander," he ordered. "Zhang Fenghui, get your men into defensive positions."

Honestly, he was happy that they were even here in the first place. After all, it wasn't like the MIB was going to dump them all in enemy territory without supplies.

No, they were supplied as well as the ROCAF could with the few C-130s they had running supply drops at night.

Everything from rifles to ammo to fuel for helicopters was air-dropped into enemy territory at their bases in the countryside.

Bases that were now being used as rest stops for their helicopters as they hopped from depot to depot.

Still, the things he would do for just one more airdrop…

"Understood," Zhang said, before barking orders to his men.

As for the commando himself, he took a moment to himself to pray. He wasn't a particularly religious man by any means, but he needed all the help he could get.

Changsha, Hunan Province, Republic of China, 16 August 1911

"You know, I didn't think we'd get here this fast, Marty. Less than a week, and we're already in Hunan."

"That's what happens when one side has bolt-action rifles and the other side can fly, Mike."

"Yeah. And the Tongmenghui-MIB-Defectors liberating basically everything in between with the help of our air support helped, too."

"Republican support has always been stronger in the south."

"Right, that too." Michael also made a point to thank Shannon for the air support, next time he saw her. "So let me get this straight: We have better intel, outgun them, have almost every force multiplier known to man, and we have forces that can fly… Plus they are in disarray up to Wuchang?"

"Pretty much. No, wait, Wuchang and Hanyang had their own uprising, so our guys are mostly just holding the fort until we link up with them."

"You're kidding me."

"Nope. I can't tell you much, but MIB had some guys in the field who linked up with the Tongmenghui and started supplying them with airdrops. When the crackdown happened, they rose up, like in the Lost History. Only difference is that this time, they had Apaches flying air support once we took Guangzhou."

"Holy shit."

"Yeah, we've been busy. Whole south has been lit up with uprisings, even as far as Chongqing, Chengdu, and Kunming."

"I really hope you're not going to ask me to drive all the way to Yunnan, Marty. I've got orders to drive the 66th to Wuchang."

"Relax. Army and Air Force are ferrying troops over as we speak. Cobras are leap-frogging their way there, too."

"You weren't kidding. So, do the Qing even have anything left south of the Yangtze at this point?"

"Well, the might still hold Nanjing. At least until the guys in Shanghai finish up in Wuxi."

"Ouch."

"Yup. Next thing you'll find out is that Zhang Zuolin will be joining the Qing forces because they're so hard-pressed for manpower."

"…You're kidding, right?"

"Course I am, Mike."

"Thought so. So, about Nanjing…"

"With our speed and the chaos going through the Qing ranks? I'd be surprised if they're still holding onto Nanjing at this point.

Outskirts of Nanjing, Jiangsu Province, Republic of China, 18 August 1911

"That is Nanjing?" The Corporal asked. "Seems a lot bigger on the map."

"Yup. Pay up, Cohen." The Canadian Private grumbled and handed Le a crisp bill. "Told you we'd make it within a week."

"Fair enough," Cohen admitted. Honestly, he was too happy to be upset about losing money. Not when they'd made this much progress in a single week. "Those helicopters truly are impressive."

"Yeah, they are," Le agreed. "Just one of them's enough to turn the tide of an engagement, but a whole squadron of them doing an air-assault on everything in our path since we left Wuxi? I've never seen anything like that."

"Didn't you fight ISIS?" Diamond recalled, and Le nodded. "I thought the USAF bombed them into the stone age."

"Eh, that was more planes than helicopters. But this?"

Le motioned towards the helicopters that roared overhead as they flew towards the city. In the distance, he could see the Humvees driving off to flank it.

"Never seen anything like this. Now, let's mount up. Diamond, get on the M2."

"On it, Sarge."

The Humvee they'd received wasn't much, and if Le was being completely honest, it was a piece of shit compared to the ones he rode in the Army.

But the metal and bulletproof glass were better than walking, so he'd take it. Then again, he was the only one in the team who knew how to operate these from the get-go, so he ended up driving.

The ride was shaky, just like every other ride he'd been through in Iraq. Well, except for the lack of IEDs, suicide bombers, and actually having a uniformed enemy with a defined position to fight.

Actually, now that he thought about it, it wasn't really like Iraq at all.

Off in the distance, explosions rang out. The optimist would say it was the Qing getting exploded, and he believed that.

Helicopters always went in first to soften the enemy up, then came the Humvees and tanks to rush them.

Or in his case, charge at them head-on while Diamond blasted them with the M2.

Which, if he was being honest, was a pretty good setup.

It wasn't like these guys had been able to dig trenches, so they had plenty of flat, open ground to rush across.

"Enemy forces, 12 o'clock," Cohen announced, and Diamond started cranking the turret forward.

"Ready, Sarge?"

"Affirmative! Open fire!"

The sound of heavy gunfire tore through the air, louder than the Humvee tearing through the field or the explosions in the distance.

What was he shooting at? Le didn't really know for sure, but "Shoot at the guys running away that the helicopters didn't explode" worked well enough for them.

Of course, it helped that the guys were running in the opposite direction, but Le stopped feeling bad about guys like that sometime before he got to Raqqa.

"Ammo!" Diamond shouted, and Le could only assume that the man was using his pliers to open up the M2. "Hey, Cohen, ammo!"

The downtimer nodded and handed Diamond another belt of .50 cal.

For their part, the Loyalists were continuing to run, with only a few brave or stupid stragglers taking potshots at their Humvee.

"Ready!"

"Hold fire! Hold fire!" Le shouted, looking at the sight before him. Amidst the carnage and torn apart bodies, he could see a few soldiers toss down their guns and stick their hands up. "We got people surrendering!"

"We can't carry these men back," Cohen pointed out. "Not enough space."

Right. Unless he planned on shoving them into the trunk.

"Diamond, keep your gun focused on them. Cohen, get on the radio for somebody to pick these guys up."