Chapter 6

Tomozo Onishi delivered a report to Hiro the next day, which had likely been the product of many hours of work through that previous day and night. In it he detailed the options for the intelligence-collecting ships that would be required for the tentative plan that the Emperor wished his military advisors to evaluate.

The start of the report described the tremendous resource constraints of Kuniumi, and how large ships such as carriers were simply not feasible given the colony’s current state of development. Although carriers would be very effective at patrolling enemy space, the likelihood of quickly obtaining the great resources needed to construct and support them essentially precluded that approach. This plan required that any ships must be much less resource-intensive to build, staff and maintain.

Two options seemed to conform to these tight restrictions. One was the Archerfish, which would probably benefit from some upgrades given that the design was a few years old at this point and new developments had become available which could integrate into this platform fairly easily. The advantage of this platform was that it had significant strike capability, had a long loiter time, and might be able to interdict Sa’arm worlds without requiring a fleet to be dispatched, as long as there were only a few enemy ships to be stopped. It was somewhat large, and although considered quite stealthy Tomozo was unconvinced that it could reliably remain undetected during a mission.

The second option was a rather unusual craft, of which only one had been previously commissioned, and was a dedicated intelligence gathering platform with limited loitering capability. It somewhat resembled a large bat. It was very small, had observability characteristics that were superior to the Archerfish, but probably could not carry any weapons if dedicated to an intelligence gathering role. The reports on its performance seemed to be unfairly negative, given how well it had performed in action.

Of these two, the question was raised of which of the capabilities of either or both were of most usefulness for this task?

One of them had the features of an attack submarine from earth, and armed with Type 93 torpedoes it would be a formidable platform. It was not unusual at all to have an attack submarine loiter outside an enemy port and collect information and attack targets of opportunity, and Japan had done considerable damage during the wars with exactly this type of system.

The other was more like a maritime patrol aircraft that would conduct electronic surveillance. It would lack any real offensive capabilities, although the design in the records included some anti-radiation missiles and an electronic warfare capability. The flexibility of that platform was intriguing, and it’s surveillance capabilities were quite superior to the Archerfish. The two offered different, but somewhat overlapping, capabilities. Having the flexibility to target some worlds for persistent interdiction, and others for more occasional monitoring with a platform demanding fewer resources appeared to make sense to Onishi, and so he recommended a blended effort of two Archerfish and four of these other vessels, based on the expectation that there would be up to five potential surveillance targets.

Onishi was calling them koumouri, or “bats,” instead of the name the Confederacy had used. Small, black, and with two wing-like structures that held electronic warfare pods, they even looked like a bat somewhat. There was a play on words in the name, because if one did not properly emphasize the first syllable of the word one would say “babysitter” instead, and these ships would definitely be “babysitting” the Sa’arm worlds. Hiro thought the naming idea to be rather clever. Saying it correctly or incorrectly, you still described the platform or its purpose rather perfectly.

The concept of the operation was that the “bats” would visit each of these Sa’arm worlds on a periodic schedule, and any that appeared to be building an invasion fleet it would get closer observation by an Archerfish. Having two would mean that one could relieve the other on a periodic basis, so the crews wouldn’t have to endlessly remain on station. When an Archerfish determined that the time for an attack was right, it could send a message probe using one of its six launchers to summon a fleet, and still have some ability to interdict a sortie with their own weapons if necessary.

Once that world had been dealt with, the Archerfish would be available to take on the next target, with “bats” doing the reconnaissance work to determine which of the remaining was of most concern.

This seemed like a solid plan, Hiro thought. He added a request to have each system evaluated for technological currency and as soon as that was completed and any modifications finalized he would add them to the production queue. Knowing the enemy’s capabilities and obtaining some idea of their intentions in this effort was critical, so these ships would precede any new destroyers or frigates.

General Yushida asked if Hiro could join him for lunch so they could discuss recent events, and Hiro was quite eager to accept. General Yushida selected a geisha house for their meal, which Hiro wasn’t terribly thrilled about, but it did seem a reasonable place to share a meal and have a discussion. There weren’t any options other than a mess hall, which Hiro tried to avoid, or someone’s private home.

The traditional atmosphere was quite welcome to Hiro, even though these geisha seemed to be talking some unusual liberties, allowing their kimonos to loosen a lot more than would be acceptable under usual circumstances. They also seemed much shorter than the traditional floor-length garments that he was accustomed to. Much shorter. Having been forewarned by Nomi about what these places were intended for he could understand the purpose, even if he missed the traditional way that a true geisha would allure a guest by more subtle means than by attempting to so brazenly flaunt her charms.

Still, the meal was excellent and the service by the comely women was much appreciated.

“Yakazuki-kun, I am concerned you are burdened too heavily. You need assistance with your work,” the General observed.

“I expect it will be much easier when we have a headquarters and more staff personnel. I do understand why an office building is not considered a high priority, however.”

“Yes, but you have only one staff at this time, Rear Admiral Onishi, and he is as busy as you are. Yet we have many trained personnel awaiting posting on new ships, and they have little to do. You may benefit from shifting some of your work to them while they are available.” Yushida counseled.

“They would have nowhere to work, either. I could see using them to review reports and handling some of the administrative and logistical matters, and perhaps even doing intelligence work, which is increasing in importance. But where do we put them?”

“Perhaps right here?” Yushida waved around the room.

Hiro considered this. Have the staff offices of the Imperial Japanese Navy in a geisha house? How would any work get done in a place like this? This was crazy, but there really was nowhere else to go.

“I had not considered such an idea. This is not a good place for work, but there are no alternatives,” Hiro lamented.

“I am certain you will have no shortage of volunteers for staff duty, my friend.”

“No, there are hardships, and there are delights.”

The geisha house was soon overflowing with personnel volunteering for temporary staff duty, and Hiro and Onishi spent a whole day speaking with candidates to see where each might serve most efficiently. By the end of the day, Hiro had an aide, and acting commanders of the administrative, logistics and intelligence sections, and each section had five other personnel. Onishi collected a staff of eight others to assist him.

The remainder were grouped into ad-hoc teams that would be tasked with working specific issues by the staff sections. It was a good arrangement, Hiro thought, and would provide some useful experience for the men who would hopefully soon be posted on ships.

Still, he considered this environment most unfortunate for the work that must be done. Perhaps a word with the head of the house would be in order, and he could advise her that his men should be allowed to do their work with as few distractions as possible.

Hiro approached the okasan of the house and bowed. “Honored mother, I have a request I would beg you to consider.”

“We would be very honored to serve the Admiral. How may we be of assistance to you?”

“I have men working here who have important duties to attend to. It is my hope they are not unduly distracted from their important work for the empire while they are here,” Hiro intoned, making this not as much of a request, but a directive.

“Honored Admiral, we have our duties to perform as well, here in our place of business. We welcome the opportunity to serve you and your men, and only ask to be allowed to do so.”

“That I understand, mother. It would be most unfortunate to be burdened with the task of requesting that the emperor dedicate your facilities for the exclusive use of the Armed Forces of the Empire and leave you with no choice but to look elsewhere for a house. I am hoping we can come to an arrangement that would be more agreeable.”

The house mother was quite shocked. Earlier she was quite pleased to have so many honored guests visiting her establishment, a demonstration of the wisdom of what had been her idea. Now she was being threatened with confiscation of the product of all her hard work.

“I agree that would be an unwelcome task to perform, Admiral. I shall speak with my ladies and inform them that during your working hours the men are given every opportunity to maintain their focus. Would it be acceptable that after the workday they resume their normal duties?”

Hiro considered the terms of capitulation she offered. An arrangement would cause much less disruption than a seizure, and perhaps the gentler approach would allow a more harmonious outcome. “Such seems a reasonable compromise. I understand how difficult such a change may be for you, and am honored by the forbearance you are offering in service to the empire. Your sacrifices will not be forgotten, honored mother.”

“I thank you for your kindness, honored Admiral,” she replied.

Hiro considered how useful it might be to use the geisha house as his workplace as well, but that would invite disharmony into his home, and besides concentrating in this environment would be an unwelcome challenge. He directed his aide to work there in his place, and the aide would schedule meetings for Hiro in his residential pod with staff or others.

Besides, after today’s encounter with the house mother, it wouldn’t be inconceivable for her to spit in his tea if he spent much time there. That would never happen with true geisha, but in these times one might never know how their culture might be changing.

The colony’s AI had been a helpful resource in providing information, but had the annoying habit of breaking into conversations and informing the participants that certain things were not allowed. Hiro understood that the AIs actually served as the de-facto galactic authority of the Confederacy, but answering to a machine was disgraceful.

The AIs were becoming the God of all humanity. They were all-knowing, they were all-seeing, and it appeared that there was hardly a limit to what they could do to punish what it saw as inexcusable transgressions. The judgments of its unwritten law could not be appealed, and learning what was within the law usually came in the form of a pointed observation when an AI observed what it considered illegal behavior, or a discussion that even considered it.

Much of that law was passed on from person to person as they learned of the Confederacy, but full knowledge of the body of law had never been revealed. When questioned, the AI would simply advise that it would warn personnel when they were approaching the line, and that was adequate for it’s purposes.

The Empire’s relationship with the Confederacy wasn’t to be negotiated with some remote political body, but directly with the colony’s AI, which would be the arbiter of terms and communicate, somehow, to the other AIs what those terms were. A political discussion, while messy and time-consuming, would be a familiar method of resolving the issue. Negotiating with an AI would be foreign and uncomfortable.

That was the Emperor’s task, but before he started those negotiations, he needed the input of his senior leadership. Hiro’s list of recommendations were among the most important.

The Empire must be allowed to independently extract Japanese citizens without interference from DECO or other Earth or Confederacy entities.

Japanese vessels must be allowed freedom of navigation in Confederacy space.

Japanese trade between the Empire and the Japanese homeland must not be subject to control or hindrance by Confederacy authorities.

The Empire must be permitted freedom of action to engage the enemy as it sees fit, as a fully independent ally of the other worlds of the Confederacy.

Existing extra-terrestrial facilities operated by Japanese interests must be considered the sovereign territory of the Empire.

In return for accepting these demands, the Armed Forces of the Empire would pledge to refrain from hindering or interfering in other Confederacy matters, and assist the Confederacy in fighting the enemy subject to the availability of forces.

Other groups discussed trade issues, sharing intellectual property such as the products of research and development efforts, preserving Japan’s unique culture, and dispute resolution. It was quite an exhaustive list, but much of it seemed perfectly consistent with their understanding of how the Confederacy operated. The colony AI never spoke up about any of these points, so it seemed they were all on the table.

Emperor Akihito was very pleased with the work his advisors had done, and asked if there wasn’t any reason that he could not commence negotiations immediately, with them present in order to assist him in the discussions. Of course no one objected.

“AI, you have heard these discussions. Would any of these issues be objectionable to the Confederacy?” he asked.

<Your Empire is seeking a special independent status that is unusual in the Confederacy, one that may infringe on the authority of Earth. DECO has authority over all Earth extraction operations, and unless they agree to that point the Confederacy would not enforce any restrictions on their actions in Earthat space. CENTCOM has authority over all operations in Earthat, so Japanese facilities such as the Hitachi and Mitsubishi facilities there cannot be placed under Japanese sovereignty without their approval. Restrictions of CENTCOM’s authority over space operations in Earthat would require explicit approval from CENTCOM. As for the other points, they do not infringe on the current authorities of other Confederacy planets and are permitted under current rules.>

“Is it possible to open discussions with DECO and CENTCOM regarding those issues,” the Emperor asked.

<Facilitating discussions between humans is outside of my responsibilities.>

Hiro tried to put this into an understandable context. It was somewhat like having CENTCOM and DECO as the Vatican City during their “Middle Ages” which would control the behavior of all the European nations that desired the blessings which only a Pope could bestow. With all of the attendant issues and problems that caused, of course.

Perhaps the Empire’s ability to address the problem of the colony of Rek would facilitate the negotiations. If the Empire had something the “space Vatican” wanted, it might agree to any number of things in return.

Hiro nodded to the Emperor, who indicated his permission for him to speak. “Your imperial highness, our discovery of the issue with Rek and our capabilities to address it may encourage CENTCOM and DECO to negotiate in good faith. They are not aware of the Sa’arm incursion in this area, nor the danger that it poses. If we accept primary responsibility in this region, allowing Confederacy fleets to continue their efforts without being distracted by this new challenge, perhaps they would be interested in a deal.”

General Yushida then spoke up. “Time is of the essence here. Perhaps sending a message drone to CENTCOM with a report of our observations might facilitate the efforts of our ambassador when he arrives. At the time of his arrival they will have had the opportunity to consider the challenge and might welcome our proposals as a means of addressing the issue. Handled correctly, CENTCOM may beg for assistance and we could be convinced by them to help, if only they facilitate our efforts to do so.”

“I am honored by your wise counsel, my valued General. Let us see to that immediately. I must appoint an ambassador quickly for this important task. Whom do you know capable of it?”

After some moments of consideration General Sota Masamune, the head of the Imperial Army spoke up. “Your imperial highness, my aide Nura Naruhiko may be an appropriate candidate. He had been an executive with Mitsubishi customer relations for many years and has the temperament to handle discussions with westerners. I find him to be a very capable assistant.”

“Please have him visit me after our discussion here, General.”

“Hai, tenno heika!“

Ambassador Naruhiko was scheduled to depart on the next run of the Celestial Voyager cargo vessel on its voyage between Earth’s moon and Kuniumi, a trip that would take the heavily-modified cargo ship about two weeks in each direction. The rest of Hiro’s fleet activity report showed the exploratory mining ship continuing to visit the various moons in the Kuniumiat system to see if could locate needed ores to support further construction, which was proceeding at a slow pace. It was only because of the efforts of the Celestial Voyager to obtain necessary raw materials from the Japanese moonbases that allowed construction to continue at all, as the critical ores of chromium and manganese still defied all attempts to locate them.