Brahsh was silent.
“How about we at least wait until our forces are prepared and in order?” pressed Faramunsh. “In short, we need the time to position an equal amount of forces in Lacmhacarh as are deployed in the Clybh Monarchy. Amassing that much ship power shouldn’t take that much time.”
“Military Command Director,” said Brahsh, “when would that be?”
“Let’s see. About five years, I suppose. Putting aside our ships, we have something of a personnel shortage.”
Brahsh scowled. “Then we’d miss our window of opportunity.”
“Another window of opportunity will come. Whereas we can’t rewind the loss of the capital.”
“While it’s true we can’t rewind losing the capital, I’m not so certain another chance will come our way.”
“If it doesn’t, then it doesn’t. This opportunity fell into our laps out of nowhere; we couldn’t have prepared for it. We may as well tell ourselves it never happened at all.”
It was easy to tell that the Chancellor didn’t agree with that opinion. “Military Command Director,” he said, pointing near the border of the UH and PSSU spheres of influence. It was where the fleet designated Twin Thorns Fleet 20 was active. “I hear that the fighting in this area has settled down for the time being. Could we possibly extract troops from here?”
“This proposal takes that troop extraction into account, naturally.”
“But... there are too few of them,” said Brahsh, clearly unwilling to give up just yet.
“I ask you to understand that we cannot divert them all to another use.”
“I know that, but as I said, aren’t there too few of them here?”
“There’s something that has been weighing on my mind.”
“What has?”
“The mission in this area involves cutting off traffic and communications between the PSSU and UH.”
“Yes, I’m aware.”
“We had thought that UH fleets would come without fail.”
“I received word that shots were traded there.”
“They were, yet their forces were much scarcer than we had predicted. It was the PSSU military that did all of the fighting. We believe the UH is hiding their fleets somewhere. We must be ready for them.”
“Forgive me,” said Brahsh, “but is it not the case that predictions being off isn’t that uncommon?”
“Yes, that is correct,” said Faramunsh readily. “Failed predictions are not rare. In fact, spot-on predictions may be rarer. There are even those predictions wherein we can’t tell what went wrong, even with hindsight. But so long as there’s a prediction — during the stage before anything comes to pass — we must treat that prediction as though it is spot-on.”
“I see you are a cautious and prudent man, Director.” His tone was initially tinged with a faint sarcasm.
“I don’t see the war ending before I retire from this post. It is my duty to make sure the situation my successor inherits is as unchallenging as possible. As such, I must be warier than a tightrope walker under high gravity.”
“Do you think there’s no way you could end the war while you’re still at the helm?” prodded Brahsh.
Ah, I see now, thought Lamagh. This man wants to be Chancellor of a nation encompassing all of humanity.
That lust for renown did nothing to irk her. She was merely worried that that lust was clouding the man’s eyes. She smiled: I have the same problem, for I too wish to declare before Crown Prince Dusanh that I have liberated humanity from the specter of war forevermore.
Luckily for her, neither of her two vassals took notice of her grin.
“I’m simply handling the issues before my eyes. It’s for Her Majesty to deliberate on everything else,” said Faramunsh.
“Indeed,” said Lamagh, chin still on her hand. “We are deliberating as to whether to stake the capital on this wager.”
“Your Majesty, don’t you mean you are staking the Empire itself?” asked Faramunsh.
“They are synonymous.”
Lacmhacarh, the Capital of Eight Portals. These portals connected the eight monarchies of the Empire to the capital, and by extension, to each other. The Empire could not function without Lacmhacarh as its locus. Consequently, the vastest empire in human history had something of the character of a city-state as well.
“Too right, Your Majesty.”
“Your Majesty,” said Brahsh, “please keep in mind that the Federation also hangs in the balance of that wager.”
“We needn’t keep it in mind for the likes of Hania. It is as nothing compared to the capital.”
“But Your Majesty...” Brahsh started.
“We are staking the lives of Our soldiers as well,” said Lamagh. “That is why We are ill at ease.”
The Empire had already gobbled up much of the UH’s territory. Adding the Hania Federation to those gains, the Empire would reign over more than two-thirds of humanity. It would take time for the economic strength of the new territory to translate to military power, but that was of scant concern. Even without factoring in the political impact Brahsh was preoccupied with, the war would come to a close sooner than expected, which in turn would cut down on needless casualties. The lives that would be saved should the operation succeed were more than worth wagering the capital over.
“Your Majesty,” said Brahsh. “The scenario the Director went into earlier was the worst-case scenario. As I said earlier, that most likely will not come to pass. It is not in the national character of the Federation to allow that state of affairs to happen.”
“My opinion differs from his,” said Faramunsh. “I do agree that is the worst-case scenario; but things can, from time to time, hit the bottom and keep digging.”
“So you don’t trust in Mr. Ambassador’s words?” said Brahsh. “His comrades currently hold the important positions of power and wish to see their people prosper under the Empire’s umbrella.”
“You trust him, Chancellor?” asked Faramunsh, in chiding tones.