Outside of Vladivostok, Primorskaya Oblast, Russian Empire, 28 October 1911
Martin and Michael had never thought they'd end up this far.
To visit? Maybe. To negotiate with the General Brusilov himself?
A year ago, they would have said you were crazy.
Yet here they were, standing outside of the city outskirts under a flag of truce from the man himself.
"I'll be doing the talking," Rachel told them. When she offered to join them, it wasn't as if they had a choice. She spoke Russian, and they did not. "You'll have to wait for the translation. Got it, Chen?"
Michael nodded. He wasn't much of a diplomat or a general, but he was the closest thing they had right now.
"General Brusilov and Commander Kolchak," she began, before turning to Michael and Martin. "These men are Colonel Michael Chen and Major Martin Li. Colonel Chen, Major Li, this is General Aleksei Alekseyevich Brusilov and Commander Aleksandr Vasilyevich Kolchak."
Handshakes were exchanged, and the two sets of officers got down to business.
"I take it you are here about our offer of conditional surrender, Colonel?"
"Yes. Major Fong has briefed me on the terms you have offered. Conditional surrender with a two-week grace period for soldiers and civilians to leave, as well as transportation, if possible."
Michael turned to Martin once they'd heard the translation, and his friend (and de-facto XO) simply shrugged.
"We can do the two-week grace period, but we will require you and your men to relinquish any and all rifles, machine guns, or artillery. Sidearms should be fine, as well as any swords or daggers."
To this, the two Russians nodded.
"However," he continued, transportation will be an issue. While we could, in theory, take a cruise ship and ferry out twenty thousand people every two weeks, we would have to sail the ship through hostile waters in the Strait of Tsushima."
"And we lack enough space on what ships we have," Kolchak bitterly pointed out. "Which leaves us with few options, now that the Trans-Siberian Railroad has been cut."
"In your message, you said that you have been in contact with Saint Petersburg via telegram," Martin pointed out. "Yet the lines are cut. How exactly do you communicate with them, then?"
"That is simple," Kolchak told him. "We send a telegram to Ulan-Ude, where they then transport the message across Lake Baikal to Irkutsk, who then send the telegram to Saint Petersburg along regular lines."
"Right…" It did make sense to Li. Short of sinking every single boat on Lake Baikal, there would still be people sailing across it. Maybe not trainloads of them, but perhaps smaller loads. "So, if we were to transport you, your men, and any civilians who wanted to travel to be evacuated through this side of the Trans-Siberian Railway to Ulan-Ude, would it be possible to get them across in smaller ships?"
"It would be doable," Kolchak told him, speaking for both himself and the general. "After all, it is not as if your planes have sunk every ship on Lake Baikal."
"Right…" Chen continued, before the conversation deteriorated into an argument. "Of course, my commander is open to providing safe transit for any and all who wish to evacuate. That, we can do. However, the people who remain will also be an issue. Should this area be annexed by China, there will be several thousand Russian nationals within Chinese borders."
"I take it you are not a politician, Colonel?"
"God, no," Chen chuckled. "But I do not know what will happen. Hell, the fact that our two nations are still at war makes these negotiations remarkable as they are."
"Freezing to death is a very good motivator," Kolchak dryly observed. Though Chen couldn't speak Russian, he could definitely hear the bitterness in the man's voice. "Were this in the summer, we would not be here."
"Perhaps," Chen figured. Honestly, he didn't know what would have happened then. An all-out assault on the last Russian stronghold south of the Amur? "Given the… unique circumstances, General, I will need your help to ensure that the people understand the implications."
"That can be done," Brusilov agreed. Unlike Kolchak, Chen couldn't hear any bitterness in his voice. Weariness, yes, but not bitterness. "Of course, there will be the issue of a potential mutiny."
"My men are more than willing to assist, General. We have handled our fair share of mutinies."
"I see… Now, are there any other issues that you wish to discuss?"
"There is the issue of the fleet, General. Commander, I am open to negotiations on that."
"The fleet will be scuttled," Kolchak unflinchingly answered. "If the fleet is not offered safe passage, then I would rather have the ships scuttled than captured."
"As a warship, I can't allow an enemy warship to leave port." It wasn't so much that Chen was being a hardass, but he was pretty sure he would get court martialed if he let an enemy ship escape. "However, I am open to having the ship remain in port until a formal ceasefire is declared. During that time, you would be free to leave. Would that work?"
"Possibly," Kolchak told him. "I would have to see the terms."
"Of course." Honestly, I'd do the same thing if I was in your shoes. "So, with that out of the way, General, I'll have to send this up the chain. So, there any other issues you wanted to smooth out?"
"Nothing in particular," Brusilov told him. "I take it you have no concerns?"
"I've got a question, if you're willing to answer it."
"It depends on the question, Colonel."
"What will happen to you two when you return to Russia? I don't imagine the Tsar will be happy, even if this was an impossible mission."
"Colonel," Brusilov sighed, "As far as I'm concerned, the Tsar sent me and my men on a suicide mission. I couldn't care less about what he has to say to me."
Outskirts of Pyongyang, Japanese Choson, 29 October 1911
Captain Park never thought that he would end up here, and he wasn't just thinking of the past.
No, this was Pyongyang. The very heart of the Kim regime in the north.
Yet he was here, inserted with his men, with a singular mission: Wreak as much havoc behind Japanese lines as humanly possible.
Which, truth be told, he had been doing for a while. The Marines and the MIB had given him and his men the training and equipment they needed to form a partisan movement in the countryside, far away from the Japanese forces.
It wasn't exactly an easy operation, but picking off the IJA under cover of night was child's play when they could actually see in the dark while the garrison couldn't.
But this? The sight before him? It was more chaotic than anything he or his men could ever hope to accomplish, and that was after they'd started taking on new recruits.
Believe it or not, they had almost nothing to do with the outright riots and fires that had sprung up across the cities against the now-overstretched garrison. If anything, Katsura probably deserved most of the credit, ever since he began conscripting the locals.
Now, that wasn't to say that Park and his men were going to sit back and let the riot do all the dirty work.
"Team two, in position," a voice told him over the mic. "Got clear shots on two sentries and a couple in the watchtowers."
Park could see the four of them through his nightvision, nervously pacing back and forth outside of the armory as the riots raged in the city proper.
Was it unfair? Definitely. But war wasn't fair, and neither was the IJA. If he and his men could kill them with impunity, then they would.
"Drop them," he ordered, and the four men fell to the ground, none the wiser. "Team one, move in. Team two, cover us. Pick off any soldiers you can get a clean shot on. How copy?"
"Team two copies," his subordinate answered. "You're clear to move into the armory."
No, Park Jae-Hyun wasn't about to sit back and do nothing. And once they were done, neither would the rioters in Pyongyang.
National Diet Building, Tokyo, Empire of Japan, 31 October 1911
This was not the news that Katsura Taro wanted to hear.
Tokyo, he could handle with ease. One city wasn't much trouble to suppress, once the Army was mobilized to back up the police.
But a dozen cities, all across the country? That would be harder, but he thought he could handle that.
Sure, they weren't as large as the riots in Tokyo, but the IJA would be stretched thin. And that was before soldiers began defecting to protect the civilians they'd been sent to suppress.
But Choson as well? And while there were soldiers defecting to protect the rioters on the Home Islands, Terauchis last telegram said that the Koreans were outright raiding armories and picking off the IJA.
Normally, this wouldn't be a problem for the local garrison, but the bulk of the garrison had been deployed to Manchuria to capitalize on the Qing's disorganization. What was left was stretched to their very limits, and that was during peacetime.
"It seems that our forces are stretched to their limit," Home Minister Hirata observed. "While the Kempeitai would be useful in ensuring no further defections on the Home Islands, the vast majority of them are located in Choson, where they are working with their local auxiliaries and IJA troops to suppress the riots across the region."
"Which leaves us in a precarious position," the new Army Minister told him. We do not have the manpower necessary to deal with both Choson and the Home Islands. The men best-suited to suppressing the Home Islands riots are in Choson, while the manpower we require to suppress the rebellion in Choson is holding off the riots on the Home Islands."
"I see…" The Prime Minister understood it, but he didn't want to be reminded of just how overstretched they were. "And we are incapable of raising any more manpower in either territory? Militia, volunteers, and the like?"
"In Choson, we have been losing auxiliaries," Hirata told him. "Either through vigilante actions, partisan activity, or simply desertion."
"And on the Home Islands?" Katsura asked again, "What about them?"
"The Kempeitai is loathed, at best, by the general public," the Army Minister told him. Katsura could have sworn Hirata had shot the man a dirty look, but he couldn't care less right now. "While we could call on volunteers, they would be, at best, as poorly-trained as the rioters."
"If I may," the Army Minister continued, "I propose that we retreat our forces from Choson, at least for the time being, and redeploy the IJA and Kempeitai forces on the Home Islands."
"Are you mad?" Hirata asked him, before the Prime Minister could even voice his objections. "You, the Minister of the Army, are recommending that we abandon Choson to the Koreans?!"
"You said it yourself that we are overstretched right now in Choson and the Home Islands," the new War Minister shot back. Despite his lack of seniority, he wasn't about to be cowed by his fellow minister. "We do not have the manpower we need. We are not capable of fielding the manpower we need. Any manpower that we could have used has been sent to Manchuria, and they're either dead, captured, or missing. And any manpower we could have gained through conscription is currently rioting in the streets of Tokyo."
"If we lose control of Choson," the man continued, "this administration may be forced to dissolve. If we lose control of the Home Islands, the entire country could collapse. Prime Minister Katsura, I know that this is a difficult decision to make, but we are facing the greatest domestic crisis in decades. If we want to have even a chance of surviving this crisis, then we need to recall our forces from Choson. Once we consolidate our hold on the Home Islands, we can focus on retaking Choson."
Hirata could only scowl at this, and Katsura could feel the man's frustration.
But at the same time, Ishimoto's replacement had a point. If they focused on the home Islands, they would lose Choson. But if they focused on Choson, they would lose Japan itself to anarchy.
"I will not stand by and lose slowly on two fronts," the Prime Minister finally decided. "Send the order to recall our forces from Choson."
"Prime Minister, surely-"
"And we will deal with Choson once the domestic situation is resolved, Hitara," Katsura announced with newfound confidence. "Send the order. We need every soldier we have left."
