A Second Sunrise: Taiwan of 2020 Sent Back to 1911

[ChrisProvidence]

Ishigaki Island, Taiwan Province, Republic of China, 9 November 1911

Once again, Higa Akira was alone again. Ever since Michael and Rachel had left, there wasn't much to do on Ishigaki, besides running around.

What was it that Michael called it? PT?

Still, she had ways to keep herself busy, whether it be helping her father with the administration or teaching the children on the island.

Sure, she didn't have much of a formal education, but as her father put it, she was the "Closest we have" to a teacher.

For their part, the children seemed to like all the new equipment that'd come with the islanders. Sure, they enjoyed the playground equipment and the soccer balls, but what they really enjoyed were the movies she played on the projector.

That, of all things, was how she kept their attention. And as far as she could tell, it worked.

Still, she couldn't spend all her time teaching or running, so she began learning to use the internet on Michael's tablet.

And if she was being honest, it astounded her. So much information at the tips of her fingers, and people just acted like it was an everyday occurrence!

Well, not everybody.

There were those who sought to collect all the information on the internet into a single database and compile it for the world to access.

"Project Capsule" was what they called it. Apparently it was headed by one of the universities in Taipei, and it had thousands of volunteers sifting through the internet and submitting any new information that they could find.

It started off with one person uploading the entire contents of an entire website called "Wikipedia." Apparently it was a sort of internet encyclopedia?

Anyways, it all started from there.

An entire avalanche of data was uploaded, from articles to records to movies, music, and images. To her surprise, there were even uploaded copies of video games, whatever those were.

She had played her part, scouring websites and uploading all the books Michael had downloaded onto his tablet for her.

While she might have been alone, she had something to do this time around.

That was, however, until the tablet started ringing, and Michael's phone number appeared on the screen.

Akira pressed the green button, and a familiar voice came through.

"Hey, Aki, can you hear me?"

"Michael?" Her eyes practically lit up. "Where are you?"

"Vladivostok."

"What?"

"Long story. Anyways, we just got the cell tower set up, and I managed to get reception. So I thought I would call up my favorite islander."

"It's good to talk to you too," she told him. "So, how are you? Is everything alright?"

"Aki, I'm fine. Really tired, but fine. You?"

"Busy. Been teaching the kids around the island and helping out with Project Capsule."

"That's the internet archive one, right?"

"Yes. I uploaded some of your books for the archives."

"Cool. Thank God copyright law kinda doesn't exist anymore."

"…What kind of law?"

"Long story. Anyways, how are the movies?"

"Those? They're great! I hooked up the projector to the tablet and played 'Black Panther' last night."

"Did you like it?"

"Yeah. It was interesting. It kind of reminded me of Taiwan, once I read an article about it."

"Huh? What's up?"

"Wakanda."

"Okay… I don't get it, Aki."

"Wakanda is a secluded but technologically-advanced nation in Africa, which is often seen as backwards in your time. It shows Africans being just as, if not more advanced, than their white counterparts."

"Okay…"

"Not only that," she continued, "But Wakanda also uses their technology to help less-advanced people by the end of the movie."

"Yeah, I remember that. So, I guess you liked the movie?"

"Oh it was beautiful, Michael. But there was something else I noticed."

"Yeah?"

"Wakanda is basically Taiwan, isn't it?"

"…What."

"Okay, Michael. When people in 1911 see Asia, what do they think of?"

"Colonies, backwardness, and a lack of scientific advancement?"

"Exactly. And what is Taiwan?"

"A technologically-advanced civilization in Asia that is just as, if not more advanced, than the Europeans or Americans in almost every sense… Oh."

"Do you see it now?"

"Yeah. Taiwan… is Asian Wakanda."

"Exactly!"

"You know, Aki, that wasn't something I ever thought I would say in my life."

"It makes sense though, right?"

"Oh it makes more sense than it has any right to. Still sounds crazy, though."

"Yes. Yes it does, Michael. So, do you think they'll follow through with it?"

"Follow through with what? Sharing our technology with the world to help less-advanced people?"

"Yes."

The line went quiet for a moment while he thought about it.

"Probably. Depends on the technology."

"It doesn't sound so crazy now, does it?"

"Sorta… Aki?"

"Yes?"

"Taiwan really is Asian Wakanda, isn't it?"

 

[ChrisProvidence]

Treaty of Irkutsk

This article is about the 1911 treaty between the Russian Empire and the Republic of China. For the Treaty between the Republic of China and Japan, see Sino-Japanese Armistice of 1912

The Treaty of Irkutsk is a treaty that formally ended the 1911 Russo-Chinese War. It was signed on 11 November 1911 after negotiations from 8 November to 10 November at the Assembly of the Nobility in Irkutsk.

Background

The Russo-Chinese War of 1911 was fought between the Russian Empire, an international power that, despite their defeat in the 1904-1905 Russo-Japanese War, was still an international power with one of the largest armies in the world, and the Republic of China, a nation that was currently in the midst of the 1911 Chinese Revolution and a concurrent Japanese intervention in Southern Manchuria.

Despite fighting two international powers at once, the Chinese Revolutionaries were reinforced by the Republic of China Armed Forces from Taiwan, who had been mysteriously transported to 1911 during the Great Journey of 1911.

After a rapid advance through China Proper during the 1911 Summer Offensive by the National Republican Army, the Imperial Russian Army announced their intervention into the regions of Xinjiang, Mongolia, and Northern Manchuria. The expeditions into Xinjiang and Mongolia were decisively defeated by the National Revolutionary Army at the Battle of Urumqi and the Battle of Urga, respectively, with the Russian forces either killed or captured.

The Zheltorossiya Intervention Force, led by General Aleksei Brusilov, faced minimal resistance in Northern Manchuria as they occupied the region, with Harbin used as the de-facto regional capital.

In response to this intervention, the National Revolutionary Army launched several air assaults on vital railway bridges along the Trans-Siberian Railway south of Lake Baikal. These attacks, coupled with subsequent attacks on the ferries used to cross Lake Baikal, effectively cut off the Zheltorossiya Intervention Force under General Brusilov from reinforcements and supplies. This also had the unintended consequence of cutting off the Russian Far East from the bulk of its supply of fuel and food, leading to an impending humanitarian crisis.

By October, the National Revolutionary Army engaged in a rapid offensive against the joint Japanese-Qing forces in a series of battles throughout southern Manchuria, culminating in the defeat of the Japanese-Qing forces in the Battle of Changchun and the abdication of the Xuantong Emperor,.

After a brief operational pause, the National Revolutionary Army began the Northern Manchurian Offensive in mid-October 1911, which resulted in the complete annihilation of the majority of the Zheltorossiya Intervention Force. However, General Brusilov was able to retreat with survivors to the city of Vladivostok to defend against a siege.

However, Chinese attacks on the still-unfinished defenses of Vladivostok, including the use of thermobaric weapons against the city's primary land fortifications, left Brusilov in a precarious position. This, coupled with the shortage of fuel and food in the city of Vladivostok itself, led to the Russian commander agreeing to a negotiated surrender with Colonel Michael Chen of the 66th Marine Brigade.

Upon receiving news of the defeat in Vladivostok on 2 November 1911, popular support for the Zheltorossiya Intervention plummeted, and there were fears of a repeat of the 1905 Revolution across the Russian Empire. In response, the Tsar sent a telegram to Irkutsk to the Chinese forces, requesting an immediate ceasefire so that terms could be negotiated in Irkutsk.

The National Revolutionary Army accepted these terms, and a ceasefire began on 4 November 1911. During this time, Russian Foreign Minister Sergei Sazonov traveled eastwards to the city of Irkutsk, while Chinese diplomat Song Jiaoren was selected by Provisional President Sun Yat-Sen to negotiate on the Chinese side. The Assembly of the Nobility was agreed upon as the site of negotiations, though the Chinese were allowed to fly in an armed escort to the meeting.

The Irkutsk Conference

The two delegations met on 8 November 1911 at the Assembly of the Nobility in Irkutsk. Despite the Russian offers of a local hotel for the Chinese delegation, the Chinese delegation declined, preferring to fly their delegation to and from Irkutsk in UH-60 Blackhawks from their base in Urga.

Although the Tsar had initially instructed Foreign Minister Sazonov that Russia was to give no territorial concessions or reparations, declassified documents report that the looming threat of a mass famine and the fuel shortage in the Russian Far East had greatly weakened the Russians' negotiating position. In contrast, the Chinese government was demanding that Russia cede the territory gained in the 1858 Treaty of Aigun and the 1850 Treaty of Peking, given the two's status as Unequal Treaties.

A total of three sessions were held in the city of Irkutsk During the first session, the Chinese and Russian delegations were able to negotiate a resolution to the impending humanitarian crisis, as well as a transfer of prisoners of war between the two countries.

However, the second session was largely unproductive, with the Russian delegation holding a hardline stance against the transfer of territory and war reparations, while the Chinese delegation demanded the ceding of all territory gained in the 1858 Treaty of Aigun and the nationalization of all Russian-held assets in Manchuria.

The third session led to an agreement in which the Chinese government would purchase the Russian railroads in Manchuria at a reduced price, the transfer of the Aigun and Peking treaty territories as well as Russian Sakhalin, and a three-month grace period under which any and all Russian civilians would be escorted out of the ceded territory with their possessions to the Russian city of Chita.

In addition, Russian forces were to withdraw their presence from Chinese soil in perpetuity unless they were formally invited by the Chinese government, as well as acknowledge the Republic of China as the rightful successor to the Qing Empire.

Furthermore, Russia was to renounce any and all claims to Sakhalin as well as the Aigun and Peking Treaty Territories in perpetuity, while the Chinese agreed to assist in the reconstruction of the bridges along the Trans-Siberian Railway that had been collapsed during the conflict.

The Treaty of Irkutsk was signed on 14 November 1911. The treaty was ratified by the Provisional Government of the Republic of China on 15 November 1911 and in Russia on 1 December 1911.

Aftermath

The signing of the treaty undid most of the Unequal Treaties negotiated between the Russian Government and the Qing Empire and confirmed China's position as the preeminent power in Asia. As the first foreign treaty signed between the Republic of China and a foreign power, the Treaty of Irkutsk is seen as the first step in undoing the Unequal Treaties that the Qing had signed in the previous century, as well as the beginning of what many historians call the "Chinese Century."

The treaty also ensured the end of Russia's expansionist ambitions in Asia, and was not received well by the Russian populace. While the population was already unhappy about the string of defeats during the Northern Manchuria Campaign, the peace terms were seen as a great humiliation of Russia. Though the Tsar had initially insisted that General Brusilov was directly responsible for the loss of the Russian Far East territories, this only served to further inflame tensions, leading to the New Year's Mutiny of 1912.

Conversely, the Chinese population was ecstatic. News of the Treaty of Portsmouth was received with great fanfare in Taipei, Kaohsiung, Beijing, and Nanjing, among other cities, while the treaty itself, as well as the Sino-Japanese Armistice of 1912, legitimized the Republic of China in the eyes of many Chinese.

Chinese historians, including Dr. Akira Chen and Dr. Martin Li, agreed that the signing of the Treaty of Irkutsk was the moment that the Republic of China established itself as a nation and a force to be reckoned with on the international stage.

Stab-In-The-Back Myth

The Russian defeat and humiliation in the Treaty of Irkutsk, coupled with the rapid defeats suffered by the Russian Military, led to the formation of a "Stab in the Back" myth among Russian civilians and soldiers in the immediate aftermath.

First published in Letter by an Anonymous Soldier, which was circulated among soldiers in Moscow, this Stab-In-The-Back Myth argues that the Tsar, not General Brusilov, was to blame for the failures in the Russo-Chinese War.

Citing the lack of manpower devoted to the campaign, as well as the lack of food, equipment, and fuel stockpiles in the region, the letter argued that, had the Tsar supplied General Brusilov and the Russian Far East with sufficient manpower and supplies, the Russian forces would have successfully seized Xinjiang, Mongolia, and Manchuria from the Chinese and defended Amur, Primorskaya, and Sakhalin Oblasts.

The letter goes on to place the blame at the feet of Tsar Nikolai II, though the author does not shy away from placing blame on several other groups in the Russian Empire. Said groups include (but are not limited to) the Jews, Socialists, Trade Unionists, Muslims, and non-Russian ethnicities within the Russian Empire.

It is speculated that these groups were chosen due to the role socialists and trade unionists played in the organizing the protests, as well as the fact that many protests occurred in areas of high concentrations of Jews, Muslims, and non-Russian ethnicities.

This sentiment would rise to prominence in the New Year's Mutiny of 1912, and it would continue to influence Russian society and Russian policy throughout the 1910s and 1920s. Historians cite the works of Russian officer Boris Savinkov as how the Stab-In-The-Back Myth truly entered mainstream Russian discourse, though it is unlikely that Savinkov himself penned the original Letter by an Anonymous Soldier.

See also

• Russo-Chinese War of 1911
• Stab-In-The-Back Myth
• Letter by an Anonymous Soldier
• Song Jiaoren
• Sergei Sazonov
• Sino-Japanese Armistice of 1912
• The Nanjing Convention of 1913
• Sick Man of Eurasia

 

[ChrisProvidence]

OSINT/HISTINT East Asia
@OSINTEastAsia

Okay, info is scarce, but I'll try to do a quick summary of just what on Earth is going on in Japan (THREAD):

1/? Riots. Lots of riots in major cities. Turns out getting your army slaughtered in Manchuria is bad for public support.

2/? Overextension. The IJA seems overextended. They only have a certain number of regular troops, and thousands of them got slaughtered in Manchuria, so they started conscription.

3/? Draft Riots. While the population was initially supportive, news of the rapid defeats quickly soured public support. Not to mention that conscription is seldom popular.

4/? Imprisoning the Mayor. Due to his anti-militaristic statements, Mayor Ozaki Yukio was imprisoned by the Katsura administration. While some disagreed with him, they still opposed this. Ozaki is a rallying figure for anti-war ppl.

5/? Retreat From Korea. Due to the overextension and the riots in Korea and Japan, the IJA had to choose between the two. Aerial footage says they chose Japan.

6/? Defections. After the police were unable to crush the riots, Katsura sent in the IJA. However, some soldiers defected, according to journalists in Tokyo.

7/? Kempeitai. The "Japanese Gestapo" are around right now, and odds are they were in Korea. They might be headed to Japan to ensure no further defections.

8/? Popular Sentiment. If HISTINT is anything to go by, people already thought Katsura was a corrupt warmongerer. Now even more do. Also the Japanese public loathed the Kempeitai.

9/? Morale. While the Kempeitai can limit defections, the morale of the average IJA soldier is probably crap after retreating and taking losses. Might not want to shoot their own people.

10/? Emperor MIA. Emperor Meiji died in 1912. So far, the Emperor has been quiet. No news has been published about him. Illness? Whatever it is, he has been quiet.

11/? Katsura? Since the Emperor has not requested Katsura resign, he is still in charge. It seems he has not sent envoys to negotiate so far.

12/? Kuyedao. Kuyedao (Sakhalin in RUS or Karafuto in JPN) has been fully occupied after the IJA retreated and the Russians gave up their half.

13/? Korea. Despite the riots and calls for independence, Japan has effectively pulled out of Korea, and the NRA is moving to reinforce partisans.

14/END What now? IDK, but it seems Katsura will try to hold onto power with the IJA. And then what? Korea will be free and Manchuria will be Chinese. GL getting those back.

 

[ChrisProvidence]

Assembly of the Nobility, Irkutsk, Irkutsk Governorate, Russian Empire, 11 November 1911

Song Jiaoren looked at the document. Written in both Chinese and Russian and signed by both delegations, it would finally put an end to this pointless war. Now, it wouldn't bring back the hundreds of Chinese soldiers and tens of thousands, if not hundreds of thousands, of Russian soldiers who had died in the process, but it would stem the bleeding, at least.

Now, he was no general, but he would say that the conflict was a resounding success. What else could he call it when China had gotten everything they wanted for a fraction of the casualties? They got Aigun, Haishenwai, Kuyedao, and the Russian railways as reparations, while the Russians for their part had to surrender their extraterritoriality rights.

And what did this cost them? Food, fuel, and about half the population of those areas? Granted, that last one was a bit of a drawback, as they had offered citizenship and equal protection under the law to any who stayed. Then again, the Russians over there still remembered what happened in Aigun, and they didn't seem like they wanted to remain in case the Chinese changed their mind.

Of course, the Islanders had also pointed out the silver lining of it all, as there was always the risk that the remaining Russians could form a "Fifth Column'' in Aigun, Haishenwai, and Kuyedao. Song, for his part, didn't agree with the assessment, pointing out that it was, in his words, "Quite literally what the Russians did to our own people."

Still, about half the population stayed around, and these were largely the non-Russian population, which meant that these three areas now had a sizable Ukrainian population, of all things, coupled with the Ainu on Kuyedao, as well as Koreans and the Chinese who'd stuck around.

Those, from what he remembered, were his biggest headache. After all, they were the survivors of the "Aigun Massacre," as Sun had called it, robbers who had such a grudge against the Russians that they allied with the Japanese against Russia. To his (and Sun's… and in all likelihood, Huang's as well) relief, they either had the sense or the practicality to side with the NRA against the Japanese and Russians in exchange for pardons if they laid down their arms when this was over.

Which, now that Song thought about it, was likely one of the reasons so many Russians had decided to leave. Even if the NRA wasn't going to seek revenge, the thought of living alongside the people who have been trying to rob you for a decade didn't sound too good to the vast majority of the Russians there.

The rest of the locals, however, seemed at least content to stay, so long as the Chinese maintained their part of the deal and left them alone outside of laws and taxation. Which, if Song was being honest, was all well and good in his book, and Nanjing seemed to agree.

And now? Now there wasn't much left to do.

Pictures? They had all posed for one, with Russians on one side and Chinese on the other. One of the Islanders even had the foresight to bring a portable device that had developed and printed the picture in seconds, so that he could hand the Russians a colored photograph.

Receptions? There wasn't much to do when most of the Russians couldn't speak Chinese and most of the Chinese couldn't speak Russian. Besides some free food, there wasn't much else for him to do, and that was assuming the Russians were even in a talking mood.

The shouts outside the building were evidence of its absence today.

So all that was left was to travel outside, enter their helicopters, and fly back to Urga. Which, as far as Song was concerned, was well enough for him. The city was anything but happy once the news of the terms had come out, and he wanted to get out of here as soon as possible.

Unfortunately, that meant going outside and walking to the helicopters. Sure, the Russians had the decency to keep the crowd at bay, but he could hear bits and pieces of what they were chanting. Slogans that amounted to, "Not One Inch! Not One Kopek!" "We WIll Fight!" and even, "The Tsar Has Failed Again!" once the terms had gotten out.

Of course, that was only half of the protesters, because there was another group of angry Russians shouting things like, "No to War!" "No to Bloodshed!" and "No War but People's War!" That last one, one of the Islander aides had told him, was a socialist slogan.

Of course, that latter group was nowhere to be seen today. Whether they had been chased away, arrested, or simply didn't show up was none of his business.

Between the crowd below him and the treaty on the helicopter with him, he knew what was more important, even if Sun and the Provisional Government signing it was just a formality.

And the Russians? They didn't have much of a choice, did they? At least hundreds of thousands won't starve or freeze this winter.

He could still see the crowd, even as the helicopter picked up altitude and flew away. If he was being honest, he could have sworn that he could still hear the echoes of their chants over the sound of the rotors.

I don't think they will care, though.

Seoul, Provisional Republic of Korea, 18 November 1911

The phrase "We will be welcomed like liberators" was a meme at this point, one that Le had heard countless times while he was serving in Iraq. Good old Donald "May-He-And-Kissinger-Burn-In-Hell" Rumsfeld had said that when he was a kid. Or was it Cheney?

Honestly, he didn't really care which one it was.

But it was actually true in this case. Ever since the Japanese had pulled out and Vladivostok surrendered, the First Volunteer "Lincolnites" Battalion had moved into Korea virtually unopposed at worst.

By the time they'd reached Pyongyang and linked up with the Korean commandos, they were welcomed with fanfare, free food, and other forms of hospitality that he, Diamond, and Cohen had to drag their men away from.

From what Captain Madden had told him, this was even easier than the '03 invasion of Iraq. Or at least compared to the stories from Captain Madden's father, anyways. Apparently Madden's old man was part of the initial push into Baghdad all those years ago… ahead… whatever.

All that was left was bringing the commandos and their recruits to Seoul, where they were, once again, welcomed as heroes by the locals and the rest of the commandos. Not that he was complaining, of course. It beat fighting the Japanese, any day.

Now, all that was left was to help garrison the city while the rest of the column spread out on the way to Busan. Apparently the Japanese weren't done pulling out there, if the flying Apaches were anything to go by.

Still, downtime was downtime, and some of the commandos had gotten ahold of the Japanese stash of sake, which was thankfully not poisoned as one final "Screw You" to the locals like some of the wells were. Which left the Lincolnites with the wonderful task of making sure the men didn't do anything stupid.

Or to be more precise, Diamond and Cohen would be doing that while Le was off-duty in the HQ. It was a decent enough place, once they got the generators in. Even had tea and coffee airdropped from the ROCS Huang Xing, too.

But at these hours, there weren't that many in here besides an officer drinking tea all by his lonesome.

"You speak English?" Le asked him. "Can't speak Korean."

"Yes," the officer told him. His accent sounded familiar, almost like some people he knew back in Irvine. "Name's Park."

"Le Van Ninh, but most just call me 'Le Ninh' or 'Le.' Mind if I join you?"

"Go ahead. You're with the Americans, right?"

"Yup. First Battalion, but most just call us the 'Lincolnites' now."

"Thanks for the ride." Park said in an all-too-familiar tone. "Beats walking."

"Yeah it does. Okay, I'm not going to beat around the bush. How are you holding up?"

"You want my honest answer?" Le nodded. "I feel like shit. Fighting, I'm fine with it, but the shit I've seen once we started taking on recruits? Went wrong."

"How bad we talking?" Le didn't want to intrude, but he'd seen this plenty of times before. Kids green as grass would join the YPG without any experience, only to have it hit them in the face once they fought their first battle. And Park looked about as young as most of them; "Blood and guts?"

"Executions."

"Shit."

"Yeah," Park breathed. "We took on recruits and hit an armory. Armed them with the rifles we captured and started picking off the IJA. All the while, the cities start rioting, now that the bulk of the garrison went north."

Le just nodded, keeping his mouth shut as the Korean soldier spoke.

"But then the Japanese start retreating. We let them leave, but once that battleship left the horizon? We moved in, going after anyone and everyone who was even suspected of collaborating. Fuck, if we didn't show up, there's a good chance you would've been welcomed with lynched bodies instead of cheering crowds."

"Lynch mobs? Really?"

"Not literally, but basically yes." Park took another sip of his tea. "Eventually, my men and I managed to get control of things, since we were the only ones with guns in the city. Tensions were high, but we managed to get ahold of things. Well, except for one thing."

"The collaborators."

"Yeah. My men are well-disciplined, and the recruits are fast learners. But we couldn't fight off an entire city. Odds are, the recruits would have mutinied if we let the collaborators go."So, I did the next best thing I could do at the time."

"Okay… Define 'Next Best Thing…'"

"Trials. We were the closest thing we had to a government at the time, so we decided to set up tribunals. Kempeitai burned a lot of evidence, so we used what we had, plus witness testimony to determine who was guilty and who was innocent."

"How many were innocent?"

"Most of them, Le. I have no love for the Japanese, but Chen and Li reminded us in training that most of the people who collaborated did things like bureaucracy or running sanitation. The things people need to keep things running."

"Yeah, that makes sense. Wait, who's Chen?"

"Colonel Chen. Commander of the 66th Marines. We trained with him before the war."

Oh, that crazy bastard.

"Okay… What happened to those guys?"

"At worst? We just tossed the worst offenders in jail. The rest of them are under our protective custody right now."

"To keep them from getting lynched?" Park nodded. "And the rest of them?"

"The ones who worked for the IJA and the Kempeitai?" It was Le's turn to nod. "Death for all the ones we could prove were guilty. Jail for the rest. The IJA and Kempeitai burned most of the evidence, so we had to do our own investigations and factor in all the testimony."

"Without triggering a lynch mob, right?" Park nodded again. "Damn. So, it worked out alright, right?"

Park shook his head.

"What happened?"

"We shot all the ones we could prove worked for the Kempeitai and IJA, but there's a good chance a lot of them got away with it because the IJA burned the evidence, and we might have shot somebody who was innocent because there was enough testimony against them."

"And even then," Park continued, "We had to publicly execute them by firing squad because there was almost another riot."

"I see…" Le needed a moment to think to himself. "Well, you did what you had to do, given the circumstances. I know how you feel."

"No offense," Park told the Vietnamese-American, "But what do you know about these kinds of things?"

"You remember Rojava, back before we all got sent back in time?"

"I think so. Syria, right?"

"Yeah. I fought with the Kurds for a few years. Great guys, but they were pretty crappily-armed, all things considered. Plenty of US air support, though."

Park just nodded.

"So my unit was moving into Raqqa once the city was taken. Still had to secure the place and clear out any stragglers. So we come across this guy. Old jihadist, probably in his fifties. Guy's wounded."

Park nodded again at the story. Only this time, his eyes were focused on Le instead of his drink.

"So my guys are worn-out and tired. Shit, we barely had any medical supplies left after the battle, and the medics were busy." Le left out the parts where he had to treat his own guys. Park had enough on his plate as it is. "And for all we know, this guy was going to pull out a grenade and take us with him. So, you know what we do?"

"What?"

"I pick up my AK, aim, and shoot him in the head. Wait a few seconds, and it turns out he didn't have any explosives on him."

"But you didn't know. And you didn't have the resources to do anything else, did you?"

"Not really," Le said with a quiet chuckle. To be honest, it came out more as a quiet laugh. "You get where I'm going with this, right?"

"You want my honest opinion, Le?" The volunteer nodded to him. "I don't."

"You did the best you could with what you had. That's all you could do. That make sense?"

"I think so. I don't know if I believe it, yet."

"It takes time, Park." Still, he could see the young commando was looking down again. "Look, you seem like a good kid. I don't want to see you kicking yourself for the rest of your life."

"I get it." From the sound of him, Park seemed to be honest enough. "Not much I can do, anyways."

"Yeah," Le told him with a tired smile. "If I've learned anything in these last few months, it's that nothing good ever happens if you keep dwelling on the past. Got it?"

"Makes sense," Park told him. He continued to stare at his drink, but at least he had a tired smile. "That an order?"

"Sure, why not? Why, you outrank me, or something?"

"I'm a Captain and you're a Sergeant."

"Good advice doesn't care about rank," Le said with a wry grin on his face. "Besides, we're not in the same military anymore."

"Fair enough," Park relented, then he finished the rest of his tea. "Thanks, Le."

Office of the Prime Minister, Tokyo, Empire of Japan, 21 November 1911

General Helmuth von Moltke once wrote that "No plan of operations extends with any certainty beyond the first encounter with the main enemy forces."

Katsura Taro knew that all too well. After all, he had read von Moltke's essay himself in the original German.

Yet here he was, holding all that his plans had accomplished in his hands. A simple letter from the Emperor.

Looking back on it, the plan was the best the generals could come up with on such short notice. What else could they do when they were overstretched in Korea and the Home Islands.

And so the order was given. Japanese troops, civilians, and what collaborators they could all fled to the coasts, with the garrison holding the line. All the while, they Koreans seemed more than content to wait in the mountains for them to leave.

But it was clear that they needed these men, more than anything else, and that was before Ozaki was released from prison.

The Mayor of Tokyo had been a thorn in his side ever since the war had started, yet now he was openly appealing to the soldiers to lay down their arms or join their former comrades in protecting the rioters.

But that? That wasn't what enraged him the most. No, that was the part where IJA units actually agreed with him and defected.

He couldn't believe it. And in all likelihood, he figured that Ozaki couldn't either.

Yet they kept defecting. Dozens, if not hundreds, by the day, until the Korean Garrison arrived.

That, he thought, would have been enough to staunch the bleeding and stabilize the front. At the bare minimum, the Kempeitai would surely be able to prevent any further defections.

It wasn't as if they could shoot down those damned planes dropping leaflets on the cities.

To their credit, the Kempeitai had done their job. Fewer and fewer IJA soldiers were defecting by the day.

Instead, they were deserting their posts and going home.

Truth be told, he knew that this was a possibility. Even before the riots the Japanese soldiers in Choson had particularly poor morale once news from the front had traveled south. And that was before they had to retreat from Choson with their tails between their legs.

And unlike Korea, these men actually had somewhere to go that wasn't teeming with Korean rebels in the mountains. Of course, the Kempeitai had tried to crush these revolts. Squads of Kempeitai soldiers traveled through the countryside and the cities and rounded up any deserters.

And then promptly had them dragged back to their units and publicly executed for desertion. It was a brutal method that certainly got the point across that desertion would mean a painful death at their hands.

It was a message that, while brutal, the common soldier was able to comprehend. If they wanted to desert their posts, they would have to go through the Kempeitai.

And to their credit, the Kempeitai had managed to get the point across. Units would no longer desert in the night and return to their homes.

Instead they murdered the Kempeitai soldiers, then deserted.

As much as he hated it, it did make a lot of sense. After defeats, bombings, riots, and being forced to fire upon their own people, it was only a matter of time until they hit their breaking point.

Truth be told, these were quite possibly the worst men he could have tasked with combating the riots, but did he have a choice? There weren't enough men on the Home Islands. Had he kept them in Korea, he ran the risk of even more of the IJA on the Home Islands defecting.

Truth be told, he almost envied them. At least they could walk away. A quick glance at the sword on his office wall was all he needed to know that he didn't have that luxury.

Instead, he could only hold two letters in his hand.

The first was a letter to Mayor Ozaki Yukio, requesting a truce while Katsura's administration negotiated terms with the Chinese and Koreans.

On it, he appealed to the mayor's desire for peace, and how despite their differences, they both didn't want Japan to fall into a civil war.

Along with several lines of begrudging respect for Ozaki's steadfast adherence to his personal beliefs. With emphasis on how a truce was in accord with Ozaki's beliefs, of course.

Much as Katsura utterly despised the very thought of the man, he could at least respect Ozaki's convictions.

The second was a letter from the Emperor himself, with all the pomp and formalities that came with it.

On it was a simple message:

End this madness at home and abroad.

Only then can you fall on your sword.

 

[ChrisProvidence]

Office of the First Lord of the Admiralty, London, United Kingdom

This task was impossible.

How else could Churchill describe it, when the Prime Minister had asked him to analyze this "Republic of China Navy" and advise him accordingly?

The first step was asking the Japanese for what information they had on the battle, but the one thing that they did know about the Chinese Navy was that they didn't know much about it.

Instead, they told him what they did know, for what good that was. Apparently, the Chinese Navy was from the future, having come with Taiwan when it was sent back into the past.

To this day, part of Churchill still couldn't believe it, but the diplomats had returned with eyewitness testimony that the bulk of the Imperial Japanese Navy was nowhere to be found.

Regardless, he turned to the notes he had received from the translator. If the Japanese were to be believed, then the Chinese attacked with several fast-moving flying projectiles that subsequently crashed into their ships and detonated.

Now, that hardly sounded like any weapon Churchill had heard of. At most, it sounded like a sort of rocket, like the Chinese used in the past. Of course, these were never capable of sinking a fully-metal warship, but it seemed that the futuristic technology was capable of doing so.

Presumably with high-precision as well, if they were able to target the Japanese ships from beyond visual range.

Additionally, several Japanese sailors had reported seeing these rockets (for lack of a better term) flying towards their ships.

Could this be an airborne weapon? While weaponized flight was still in its infancy, Churchill would not be surprised if the Chinese of the future had managed to stick a rocket onto their own aircraft and fire it at their enemies.

This, of course, left him in a predicament. How could the Royal Navy hope to combat this futuristic fleet if the latter could engage them from beyond visual range and seemed to have weaponized flight?

Truth be told, he did not have an answer. One proposal would be to develop aircraft of their own and attack their ships from range, but that assumed that the Chinese didn't also have a weapon that could shoot down aircraft.

As for how such aircraft would be utilized in the middle of the ocean, he had some idea.

Perhaps a floating airstrip would be viable, in the sense that aircraft could take off, refuel, and land on these floating airstrips?

This, of course, was largely theoretical. Building so much as a prototype would require months of engineering, assuming it was even approved.

But it was a necessary thought exercise as First Lord of the Admiralty.

Of course, he would rather not fight such an unknown and technologically-advanced enemy in the first place, but he had been tasked with planning for that scenario, just in case.

Yet here he was, thinking that the best course of action would be to echo Socrates and admit that he didn't know.

Well, technically, he could give at least one answer if he was asked for advice on how to engage such a technologically-advanced fleet as the Chinese Navy.

"Don't."

 

[ChrisProvidence]

Nanjing, Republic of China, 7 December 1911

All things considered, Shannon knew this wasn't the first pick for a place to hold a surrender. But it wasn't as if they had any other options.

Tokyo was wracked with riots, Korea was still getting things together, and Taipei was off limits because of "symbolism," or at least that was what Shannon had told her.

"We want it to be a symbol of our combined victory. Not just Taip- er, Taiwan's victory, but a victory for all Chinese."

It made enough sense, as far as she was concerned, but she was just going with it at this point. From the makeshift helicopter carriers to the rapid advance, to taking on three empires and winning, she just decided to go with it. And that was before the whole time travel thing.

Yeah, she still didn't understand that, but there wasn't much point worrying about it.

Not today, anyways. Especially at the ceremony.

It had been an interesting affair. Plenty of officers and politicians were here to watch, and she still managed to end up with Agent Fong.

Not that she was complaining, of course. Even if she was half-sure Michael was trying to set them up.

"So, you ask her yet?" Shannon almost jumped when he said that, and turned around to see the man himself. "Also, hi."

"Give me time," she told him, much calmer than she'd thought she'd sound. "I'll ask her at the reception, alright?"

"You better, Shan. And try not to drink her under the table, this time."

"She's getting better, and that was one time, Mike. Plus, she was fine until we found the vodka, remember?"

"Yeah. Turns out I can make a pretty good cocktail, right?"

"Vodka mixed with lemon juice and tea does not count as a cocktail, Mike," she told her friend. Which, if she was being honest, was a little unfair. There wasn't any lemon-flavored vodka or iced tea for them in the middle of Vladivostok. "Honestly? I'm just happy to have warm meals and heat again, even if it's all temp stuff."

"Tell me about it." Shannon could've sworn he shivered at the thought. "There's only so many ways I can cook Spam and rice until it gets boring."

"I'll take your word for it. So, how long is this going to take?"

"What, you worried they're going to run out of alcohol?" To which Shannon simply flipped him off and smiled. "It should take an hour and a half, tops. Not like Katsura is in any position to argue, anyways."

"Yeah. You ever see the riots?"

"Only the declassified stuff. Worse than Korea, right?"

"Yup. Couldn't see much in the darkness, but it looked like the IJA was fighting itself down there."

"Yeah, that would be worse- Oh hey, they're starting the ceremony."

True to his words, the ceremony had only taken an hour and a half. Honestly, the introductions and the speeches took up most of the time. And while Marty may have been interested in that kind of stuff, Shannon did her best to at least look like she was paying attention.

Yes, it was important, historical, and an honor to be here at the ceremony. But right now, she would rather be In the hangar, or better yet up in the sky, than here.

Still, it went by quick enough. After the speech from Sun, the two delegations sat at the table. Sun was on one side while Katsura was on the other.

Katsura was the first to sign his part, then Sun signed for the Chinese Provisional Government and Huang for the military. Followed afterwards by President Tsai and a few members of the Korean delegation.

It was almost comical with how many people walked up and signed for their side. By the end of it, there had to be about a dozen different Chinese and Korean signatures on the parchment.

Yet it all seemed so… rehearsed, now that Shannon talked about it. From the speeches to the ceremony to the flyover of F-CK-1s at the end.

It was all real, of course, just… surreal as well.

"It was all rehearsed," Rachel told her a few hours later at the reception. "Everyone had their part to play in this historic moment. Even Katsura."

"He agreed to the terms beforehand, right?" Rachel nodded, and poured herself another drink. "Alright. Hey, can I ask you something?"

"Yes, that cargo you saw was thermobaric bombs."

"Huh?" Oh, right, at the airport. "No, something else. Two things."

"Are they classified?" Shannon shook her head. "Then go ahead."

"Is it weird that I thought it was, I dunno, boring?"

"No. Speeches are speeches, even if they are for historic events, Shannon."

"Yeah…"

"Li would probably disagree though," the agent said with a tired laugh. "Well, if he wasn't talking off Chen's ear right now."

"Better him than us," Shannon sighed, and poured herself another drink. "Everyone has their hobby. Mike's a mechanic, Marty's a historian, I paint, and you… I don't know what you do for fun."

"…Video games."

"Huh. Cool."

"So, was that the second thing you wanted to ask me?"

"No."

Ishigaki Island, Taiwan, Republic of China, 11 December 1911

"Applique armor," Michael said as he pointed to the various highlighted areas on the diagram. Even as he walked, he kept a firm grip on the sketch so it didn't "And side skirts… And a new engine."

"…Wow." Either his friend was impressed by the blueprint, or Marty had no idea what the hell he was talking about. "You thought this through, didn't you?"

"Yeah. Turns out being the brigade's mechanic has its perks. So, think you could get this to the right people?"

"I could run it by Huang and Sun at the next briefing," Marty told him. "No promises, though, Mike. Factories are going to be busy enough trying to build new M60s in the first place."

"Yeah, I know, I know. So, how about the bridgelayers?"

"R&D should be producing them by 1912. Not like we'll have much use for the M48 hulls, right?"

"That's good."

"Army gets first dibs."

"Dammit."

"Yeah, some things never change, Mike. Got some good news, though."

"They're building actual ambhibious ships for us in Kaohsiung, so I don't have to ram a ferry into a beach?"

"…Actually, yes. Okay, we're basically copying an American designs, but it turns out somebody up the chain read your message and they agreed with it."

"Huang?"

"Him and Sun. Turns out your usual method of getting equipment actually worked."

"Getting stuff the Army can't use because our reservist system accidentally turned everyone into infantry?"

"Well, it's not like the Army needs amphibious ships," Marty chuckled. "Congrats on the promotion, by the way."

"I'm not a general yet, Marty," Mike said sheepishly. It still felt weird to be called that. "Expanding the Marines'll take a few years, y'know."

"Yeah. So, how are you liking your new place?"

"It looks nice in the pictures," Michael told him. Then again, he hadn't actually seen his new house in person. "Even if it is a prefab."

"Prefab or not, at least you'll have running water and electricity."

"Fair enough." And now that he could actually see the place, the promise of those two things sounded even better. "Oh hey, is that Aki- wait, is that my hoodie?"

"Huh?" Marty looked over at the front door to see Aki walking towards them. "Oh, yeah, that is your hoodie, Mike."

"Thought so," Mike said as he hugged her on the spot. "Hey, Aki."

"Hey, Michael," she greeted in much-improved Chinese. "Before you ask, it gets cold, and the shipments haven't arrived"

"Maybe. So, anything interesting happen while I was gone?"

"Boredom, mostly," she yawned. "I work for one of the universities as a remote translator, now, so that's sort of fun."

"Oh, that's nice. Sounds like a job that the universities would have."

"It… doesn't pay well."

"Yup, that sounds like a job that the universities would have." From the blank look on her face, Aki didn't really get the joke. "So, looks like you finished all the books I gave you?"

"Oh, I ran out of those a few months ago. It's kind of how I ended up getting that job with the university."

"There really isn't that much to do here, is there?"

"Nope. Not many fun things, at least, ever since you left."

"That boring, huh?"

"Michael, everyone on this island is either old, a child, or married with children to take care of. They're good people, just not that interesting to talk to."

"So," Marty chimed in. "Are you just going to keep hugging each other, or are you going to invite me inside?"

"I guess?" Michael looked at Aki, and she just shrugged. Wasn't like she lived there, and there was probably room, if the pictures were anything to go by. "Did they forget to book you a room in town?"

"No," Marty laughed, before bringing all their bags into the small home. "I just haven't seen actual plumbing and heating for months, and I'm not passing it up."

Ozaki Residence, Tokyo, Empire of Japan, 21 December 1911

Never in his life had Ozaki Yukio been happier to wake up in his own home.

Now, the soldiers standing guard were a bit much, but tensions were still high at the moment. While the riots had largely dispersed and things had gotten back to normal, there were still those upset about the outcome of the Armistice.

Besides, the soldiers seemed like decent enough men. Suzuki Taichi's sheer height was enough to scare away any would-be assassins from even thinking of laying a finger on him.

Or worse, laying a finger on Ozaki's wife or their daughters.

But all things considered, he couldn't help but feel positive, despite all that had happened.

His heart still dropped at all those who had died. From the soldiers sent to die in Manchuria and Korea to the protesters who died on the Home Islands, their deaths put a damper on things.

All this bloodshed to bring us back to 1903...

He could even say the same of men like the Kempeitai, or Katsura himself. Now, Ozaki didn't have hold either of them in high regard, but their deaths seemed like more senseless losses of life. Katsura, most of all.

He'd heard the news a few nights ago, right after the Katsura had returned from the ceremony in Nanjing. The next morning, the man was found dead in his house. There was no chance of foul play when everyone could tell that the former Prime Minister killed himself.

And why? To regain honor? Shame? Both? I don't think I'll ever know, but at least he took responsibility for his actions. Let it never be said that he didn't.

Truth be told, the war had turned Japan upside-down. Once a nation that had rioted because the people were upset at their rewards for winning against the Russians, many of those same people rioted in frustration for their defeat against the Chinese.

Of course, it was much more complicated than that. There were those who rioted in protest of the war, those who rioted against being conscripted for the war, and those who rioted against the failures of the war.

Ozaki had talked with all three types of men when he was freed from Sugamo Prison. Each had their own motivations, yet they all could at least agree that Katsura's militarism was responsible for humiliation that Japan would now endure.

If he was being completely honest, he wouldn't be surprised if they blamed Katsura more than they did the Chinese.

Still, these last few months had led to a shift in Japan, and it wasn't just Katsura's fall. No, Katsura's failures had turned so many Japanese away from militarism in such a short time.

But what they would turn towards, however, was still up in the air. Revanchism? Peace? Socialism? Reformism?

Honestly, he didn't know, but whatever it was, it was why Ozaki himself was dressed in all his finery for this meeting.

"So," he said, standing before his wife and daughter, "How do I look?"

"You look like you are about to meet the Emperor, dear," his wife told him, before turning towards their daughter. "Isn't that right?"

For her part, their little girl simply smiled back at her parents.

"Then that is a good thing," said the re-instated Mayor of Tokyo. "First impressions are always important."

 

[ChrisProvidence]

"So," Michael asked her over breakfast. "How did you get a job working for a university?"

"I can speak Chinese, Japanese, Yaeyama, and Okinawan?"

"No, I get that. But how'd you end up there, anyways?"

"Job application portal. There was a listing for translation work, and it was remote. So I applied to it."

"Yeah, I get that part too, but you don't exactly have credentials, Aki."

"Oh. Well, they had a few interviews online, plus a few tests I needed to do to confirm that I could speak Japanese, Yaeyama, and Okinawan fluently. They weren't too hard."

"Because you're already fluent, right?"

"Yes. I guess that comes with traveling as a child, right?"

"Probably. So, what, did they mail you papers saying that you could speak Japanese, Okinawan, and Yaeyama?"

"More or less. It took a while, though."

"Yeah, that's been a thing. Everyone's been playing catch-up ever since we got sent back. Then the war happened, so Taipei didn't have the time or manpower to hand out credentials to... what's the term? 'Uneducated?' No offense, of course."

"None taken." From the look of relief on his face, he was happy to know he didn't accidentally insult her. "I don't really have much of a formal education. I guess I had tutors, but they didn't exactly hand me a diploma."

"Yeah, that's going to be a problem, isn't it?"

"You would think that, but no."

"Really? I mean, we have, what, four hundred million new citizens to process, give IDs to, and find out how qualified they are. That's going to be a pain."

"Not exactly," she told him, before pulling out her tablet. "Most jobs require the right education or the right experience, now."

"Huh. That makes a lot of sense, Aki. It's not like most people have a formal education in China... or the papers to prove that they have one."

"No?" She gave him a weird look. "Plenty of mainlanders still have their papers... or whatever passes for it. For example, civil servants and bureaucrats still have their records from their exams."

"But if you don't, and you can prove that you have the right experience or skills, they'll take you on."

"Exactly."

"You know, that makes a lot of sense. Beats re-training all these people again."

"It would be a waste of Time," she agreed. Much as this New China excited her, she didn't like the idea of going to school just to re-learn what she already knew. "Of course, there are some drawbacks. Applicants who don't have papers seem to be less-likely to get a job than ones with papers."

"Yeah... It makes sense, though. You know, for processing times and all that."

"Sure, but it does put the non-credentialed at a disadvantage, Michael. Somebody who is just as qualified for a job as another person could lose because they didn't have the same opportunities."

"Fair enough. I don't have an easy answer to that one, Aki."

"I think Taipei and Nanjing are working on a form of 'Equivalency Tests' to compensate. I heard the program was a bit rushed, but the concept seems sound enough. You take a test to show that you have the equivalent of a certain level of education."

"Seems simple enough. Like a GED, right?"

"A what?" She had never heard of that term before.

"Oh, right," he apologized. "You don't have those here. A GED is a series of tests in America - the America of my time, anyways, that people take. If they pass them, they get a certificate that shows that they basically have a high school- er, secondary school level education.

"Then yes, it would be like that. It might, what was the term you have for it?"

"Level the playing field?"

"Exactly. It should level the playing field for those without papers."

"Here's hoping," Michael told her, before pouring himself another cup of water. "Want some?"

"I'm good, thanks."

"So, did you ever have any trouble with that?"

"With what?"

"Competing with people who have degrees and credentials."

"Not really?" She took a second to think about it. "No. Not many people on Taiwan speak Yaeyama or Okinawan. Or Japanese."

"Besides musicians and anime fans. Well, them and Marty."

"He's busy being a spy, Michael. Also, I don't think he can speak Okinawan."

"Probably not. So, the pay really isn't that great?"

"Honestly, Michael? I don't know for sure. For Ishigaki? Definitely, but it's not as if there are a lot of things for me to buy outside of books."

"So a lot of it's just sitting in a bank account?" Akira shook her head. "Then how exactly are they paying you, Aki? Checks?"

"No? How would I even cash that?" Michael just shrugged. "The university just mails me an envelope full of money every single month."

"They what."

 

[ChrisProvidence]

When we were all sent back to 1911, the video games industry was the last thing on anyone's mind.

Of course, the servers were still up and Steam was thankfully saved by a few Valve employees who were here for a DOTA 2 tournament, but we the game industry was effectively dead.

That isn't an insult to any of the studios in Taiwan, of course, but almost every single developer on the planet would not be born for at least another fifty years. Which left us with an important question: What happens next?

For the games themselves, they were left in a legal limbo, now that there wasn't anybody to claim ownership of them. In theory, this would mean that nobody would be able to claim ownership of the media for fifty years, but recent legislation has created a new copyright category of "Abandoned Media." During a grace period that lasted from January to July 1911, individuals and companies could submit applications to a board to claim copyright of intellectual property they either owned or worked on.

By the time August came around, most games were unclaimed, or their claims were rejected, leaving them in the category known as "Abandoned Media." Think "Public Domain," but you are legally required to disclose what software it was adapted from.

For example, the recently-announced 1911 Revolution game "Tip of the Spear" will be required to state that it is built on a modified version of Call of Duty: Modern Warfare 2.

With this newfound freedom, 1911 saw its fair share of "Standalone Total Conversion" games, which are exactly what they sound like: Total conversions of a game engine based on a previous engine. Imagine the Hearts of Iron IV mods, Kaiserreich or The New Order: The Last Days of Europe, except they would be launched as standalone games.

Of course, those specific mods are expected to remain free on Steam Workshop, while the newly-announced Total Conversion mods are in early production, with only a few teams even releasing concept art. Only a few have been released by December 1911, and as you can imagine, they're rushed to all hell. 1912, however, seems much more promising.



Of course, rushed total conversions aren't the only new games on the market. Local indie devs have also stepped in to help with the 1911 dryspell, and these smaller games have been a welcome breath of fresh air for gamers in Taiwan. Sure, they may be smaller in scope and lower-budget, but they should scratch that itch if you're looking for a new game this year.

And with the lack of sales and competition from the now-dead AAA industry, sales have practically skyrocketed in the last year for dozens of indie studios, while even more aspiring young indie devs are stepping up to the plate. Will they all be hits? No. But there are plenty of new indie games to choose from, and this new generation of developers don't seem to be stopping anytime soon.

Of course, this is mainly for the PC market, which is limited to Taiwan. Take one step on the mainland and there are almost no video games. Though that's less due to a lack of enthusiasm and more due to the lack of anything that could play a video games outside of a soldier who brought his laptop with them.

And when your only person you can play EU4 with is busy marching with you to Haishenwai, multiplayer gets pretty boring.



Enter tabletop gaming.

Of course, this isn't much of a surprise when the nearest computer is located at the city administration office. Without computers or mobile phones to play games on, what other options do you have?

Trust me on this. I saw it for myself firsthand while I was on campaign.

Believe it or not, one of the marines I was embedded with had their own D&D group set up. Apparently the gunner on his tank was the DM, while the driver, loader, and commander were the players. One day, while we were all waiting to push into Manchuria, some of the local teenagers in Tianjin were watching them play, and asked if they could join in with the game.

The gunner was hesitant, of course, but his commander talked him into it and handed the kids some character sheets. The tankers taught them basics, and it turned out the teenagers were fast learners. Next thing you know, they were coming by the base every day asking if the tankers when there would be another session.

But all good things had to come to an end, and that came when the Manchurian Offensive began. But with the commander being who he was, he'd managed to get access to a printer and copy the guidebook for the teenagers as a going-away gift.

Last I've heard of them, they modified it to handle D6s and started printing their own copies.

Will it take off? I don't know.

Truth be told, nobody really knows.

Maybe tabletop gaming is just a fad on the Mainland. Maybe indies over-saturate the market back on Taiwan and Sturgeon's Law rears its ugly head again.

Or maybe we're seeing the start of something new.

EDITOR'S NOTE (Delete Later):

Rachel, Michael said it's fine if you tell the D&D story, just don't mention him or his guys, alright? He doesn't want to get in trouble for wasting government resources.

Also, we're still doing that Mega-Campaign, right?

-Martin

 

[ChrisProvidence]

Taipei Main Public Library, Taipei, Taiwan, Republic of China, 14 December 1911

Truth be told, these never thought they would end up here, of all places. Though given the circumstances, it was hardly any surprise.

The Freedom and Accord Party was perhaps the largest opposition movement to the Committee of Union and Progress in the Ottoman Empire. And if Prince Sabahaddin was to be believed, they were its best chance at saving what was left of it.

That, of all things, was what had brought him here. The hope that maybe, just maybe, the Chinese had something that could help them change history for the better.

"I've read your file," the Chinese diplomat told him. Thankfully, the man could speak English, so they didn't need a translator. "Now, I have to warn you that I'm a historian, not a politician."

"Of course," the prince told him, "But if your history is to be believed, the Young Turks would lead the Empire to ruin, sooner or later."

"If history would happen the same way, then yes, it would," his host agreed. "Between the lack of industrialization, low literacy, and ethnic divides, a policy of Turkification could lead the nation to a breaking point. And there is, of course, the Arabian issue."

"Indeed," the prince breathed. "I believe a… different path would lead to different results. That is why I am here, of course."

"I can't promise any support," the Chinese man told him. "But you are free to continue your research. Oh, and the computers are free to use."

"The devices at the desks?" The diplomat nodded. "Then I will take a look at them. Thank you."

Truth be told, this was a letdown. He had wanted to find a, what was the term? "silver bullet" that could take down the CUP. However, he did have an entire century of information at his fingertips.

Surely he could find something he could use.

Taipei, Taiwan, Republic of China, 28 December 1912

If he was being honest, he should not be here.

He was Crown Prince of Japan, yet he was here as part of a "Goodwill Tour" on the island while his father and Ozaki tried to bring order to the chaos across Japan.

There was that, and it was not as if he would be welcome in Korea or Mainland China.

But Taiwan, as the Chinese called it? The island fascinated him the moment he stepped off the docks. Massive buildings towered over the city while horseless carriages drove through the street.

But what had truly fascinated him the most was how modern it was. Of course, he had read the reports on the island itself, particularly its military might. But to see it up close in person was something else.

Despite its location, he could tell he was in a western city. Of course, there were Asians walking around, but the city itself was as modern, if not more modern, than even Tokyo itself.

"I knew you would like it here," Prince Takehito had told him. "And I am sure that this appointment will be the same way."

"Perhaps," the Crown Prince sighed. Truth be told, he would rather be exploring the city some more than visiting another hospital. "Are you sure this is necessary?"

"You are to be Emperor one day," his mentor told him. What he didn't say, however, was how soon that may be. "If the Chinese can treat your meningitis, then your reign ought to be stable."

"Of course," the younger prince relented, just as the doctor returned. "Ah, doctor."

"I have your results," the doctor told him in French. From what he'd heard, that was where the doctor had studied. "And some good and bad news."

"The bad news first," the crown prince requested.

"Given your condition, I fear that it may be impossible to permanently undo the neurological and physical damage already done."

That, to be honest, was not what he wanted to hear.

"However," the doctor continued, "It is possible to treat it with antibiotics, allowing you to live a long and healthy reign. While you may not be able to undo all the damage, antibiotics, coupled with rest, avoiding cigarette smoke, and consistent washing of the hands should mitigate much of the damage."

"Is there nothing that can be done for the neurological damage?" Truth be told, he didn't mean to come off as desperate as he sounded. "Medication, perhaps?"

"It would be possible," the doctor told him, taking a load off of his shoulders. "I can recommend a psych evaluation to see where you are, and you can be prescribed the appropriate medication."

"And what would happen when the medication runs out?" his mentor asked for him. "I believe the term is 'relapse,' yes?"

"Of course. However, we should be able to ship a constant supply to Tokyo, now that hostilities have ceased."

"Then that is good," his mentor breathed. "Would you be willing to do that, Prince Yoshihito?"

The crown prince thought about it long and hard. These were novel treatments, but he was open to it.

After all, his father's age had caught up to him, and he didn't know how much time the Emperor had left.

And if Japan was to move towards the future, then he needed to be all he could be, for as long as he could live.

"I would," he finally decided. "Also, I would like to inquire about this 'Speech Therapy' that is offered. Would it be possible to undergo that as well?"

"The language barrier may be an issue, but I will see what I can do."

New York City, New York, United States of America, 31 December 1911

"Letter for you," his brother told him. "From China."

"Another one?" This had to be the third he'd received this year. "In English, yes?"

Sidney nodded.

Dear Mr. Chaplin,

While it may come as a shock to you, you have a fair share of fans in China. Admittedly, most of us were visitors on the island when it was sent back to our time, myself included.

I will keep this succinct. I wanted to write this letter to thank you for the impact you had on my life. Your speech in "The Great Dictator" is quite possibly one of the greatest speeches in history.

From the way your character began with humility, to the talk of how he would like to help everyone if possible, it evokes such kindness and empathy.

You talk about the prosperity we could all achieve, but how much is squandered in war. How we should act with kindness and gentleness, and how the "Kingdom of God is within Man, not one man or a group of men, but in all men."

It was a call for brotherhood in uncertain times. And above all, it was beautiful. Every single word of it was beautiful, and I cannot thank you enough.

As a token of my appreciation, this letter should come with a phonographic record of the speech itself. Hopefully, it is still intact.

Thank you,
John Johnson

Sure enough, there was an intact record in the package.

"Well go on," his brother told him, "Play it."

True to Fox's words Charlie could hear his own voice, speaking to a crowd. And as the letter promised, his speech was one of brotherhood, of kindness, and unity.

And above all, it was beautiful.

"For a man who doesn't speak," his brother told him, "You certainly have a way with words."

Office of the Prime Minister, London, United Kingdom, 6 January 1912

"And this telegram came from the Chinese?"

"Yes, Prime Minister," Churchill confirmed. "Given the recent events, I would recommend we accept their offer."

"They are asking us to abandon our treaties," Sir Grey pointed out. "It would be a great loss of face."

"Would you rather have us fight them?" Churchill couldn't believe the man. "An enemy that had managed to defeat three empires at once. With all due respect, war would be a terrible idea."

"Are you mad, Churchill? We are the greatest power in the world, and you are recommending that we negotiate with the Chinese?"

"I have spent weeks studying what little we know of their navy. Short of sending every ship we have and praying to God that they run out of ammunition, we are unlikely to fare any better than the Japanese."

"The terms are rather promising," Harcourt admitted. Free trade with the Chinese market in exchange for territory and the railroads would certainly have its benefits for the Empire as a whole."

Churchill nodded in agreement, even if it was mostly to avoid any sort of conflict in the first place.

"What we have," Churchill said plainly, "Are two options. We can risk war against an enemy on the other side of the planet who just finished defeating three empires at once, or we can have trade, technology, and a potential partner.

"The prospects are appealing," Asquith admitted. "Very well. We will accept their offer of renegotiation. Acland will lead the delegation. Churchill, you will be there to inspect their fleets."

"While I am wont to hand over any territory," Asquith continued, "I am more than open to at least hearing out this new China."

Ishigaki Harbor, Ishigaki, Taiwan, Republic of China

Truth be told, he was expecting that the war would still be going on, not two treaties and an abdication when he showed up.

That was what Major von Lettow-Vorbeck expected when he volunteered to travel as an observer to this so-called "Republic of China."

Or rather, just the Republic of China, by the time he arrived, four months later.

It was quite a shock to him once he arrived in Kaohsiung. Sure, he had heard of the crushing defeat the Chinese Republicans had given the Japanese in a single night, but defeating the Qing, the Russians, and the Japanese, all at once?

It was simply unheard of. Unsurprisingly, a telegram had reached him, asking him and his delegation to determine how the Chinese were so successful.

Which was how he ended up on this tropical island in the first place. Apparently, one of their up-and-coming officers had distinguished themselves in the revolution, and he had agreed to host von Lettow-Vorbeck and his men.

"Have your men settled into their accommodations?" The Lieutenant-General asked him in English. "If there is anything we can do, just say so."

"They are settling in well enough, General. Oh, and please give my thanks to your wife for the dinner."

"Yeah… Akira isn't my wife."

"Ah, I see. My apologies, General."

"It's alright. So, what was it that you were sent here for?"

"To understand just how your military was able to outmaneuver and defeat three separate armies in less than a year." It was blunt, but the Major was always one to get to the point.

Besides, it wasn't as if he was sent here as a spy.

"I see… Now, do you see that vehicle in my driveway?"

"The… how do you say it? 'Humvee?' What about it?"

"That, right there, is how we were able to move so rapidly."

"I see. Rapid movement in an armored vehicle?"

"More or less. Would you like a demonstration?"

"Now?" The general nodded. "If it is no trouble."

"Alright." A smirk formed on the general's face. "Say, how fast can you run?"

"I would say I'm a decent runner. Why?"

"Would you mind running as fast as you can to the coast?" Chen asked him, before turning to his motorcycle. "You can start now, if you want."

"And you?"

"Me?" The Chinese officer asked, having put on a heavy jacket and a helmet, "I'll catch up to you on my motorcycle."

"I can wait."

"I wouldn't," the general chuckled. "You're going to want to get as far away as you can before I get started."

At this point, he honestly had no idea what the general was getting at.

"With respect," von Lettow-Vorbeck told him. "I don't see the point of this. I'm familiar with a motorcycle."

"Well, I've always been a firm proponent of firsthand experience being the best teacher," Chen told him. To that, von Lettow-Vorbeck had to agree. "Besides, this is less about the invention and more about the sheer speed."

"Plus, I haven't been able to ride my motorcycle for months."

 

[ChrisProvidence]

On Colonialism and Internationalism
By Jean Brodeur
L'Humanité, January 1912

Are all men not brothers?

It is a simple question, is it not?

We, as socialists, claim a brotherhood that does not stop at one border, for the working class does not stop at one border. The Second Internationale is living proof of that.

It is a brotherhood based on the belief that the laborers in London and Berlin have more in common with one another than their King or Kaiser, just as well as the Parisian cobbler has more in common with the Muscovite porter than their President or Tsar.

In Europe and the Americas, we present a united front that stands against militarism and speaks for the working class.

However, the working class is not limited to Europe and the Americas.

Are the laborers on the East Indies plantation not members of the working class?

Are the Indians exploited for their labor not members of the working class?

Are the Indochinese laborers, forced into slavery in all but name by their monarchs, not members of the working class?

The answer is, of course, a resounding yes! Not only do we face a common enemy in the form of capital interests and militarists, but we share in the struggle for respect and dignity.

Is that not why we organize? Is that not why we work with one another? So that we may be treated with respect and dignity?

You know full well that the answer is yes.

If that is the case, why do so many of us continue to hold on to the notion that colonialism can be a force for good? So many of us talk about concepts like "National Colonialism," "National Imperialism," or "Ethical Imperialism" one minute, while decrying exploitation the next?

If you believe this, I have two questions to ask. Do you believe that colonialism, the very system that relies on the exploitation of the working class, is a positive force for the people we claim to support? How can slavery in all but name and the exploitation of the common worker be their means of liberation?

Civilization? The White Man's Burden is the exact same excuse that the capitalists use to exploit the international working class in the first place!

The White Man's Burden is but an excuse by the upper class to turn us against our fellow workers, plain and simple. It is an irredeemable concept in practice, and we would be abandoning our mandate to the working class if we were to support it with a coat of red paint.

While I am a strong proponent of our western values and their merits, it is evident that colonialism is not necessary for the education of our brothers and sisters. One need only look towards the island of the future to see that foreign rule clearly is not necessary.

Furthermore, the very nature of colonialism itself is antithetical to democracy, given its reliance on either local monarchs or foreign overseers. The system itself relies on suppressing those at the bottom of society, an injustice that so many of us stand against in Europe.

With how much we have in common, it is imperative that the working class around the world stand together, united in solidarity.

To that end, I call on the Ninth Congress to reject colonialism in all its forms and embrace the working class across the world.

As the international voice of the working class against exploitation, we must remember that the ideals we believe in are as universal as the fight against those who would exploit us.