The news that night was full of the Prime Minister’s statement and speculation about what it might mean for the coming days. Caleb listened to what the team on Channel One had to say:

“Tonight, on One News: New Zealand finds itself at the centre of a fast-escalating crisis in the Pacific.”

Yeah! That’s a fucking understatement! he thought, staring at the screen with a mix of disbelief and faint amusement. He leaned back on the hospital bed, the remote resting heavily in his hand. Every channel was playing the same story, the same doom and gloom.

“…Tēnā koutou katoa. Earlier today, the Prime Minister confirmed that one of our ships had been attacked and sunk while on a peacekeeping mission in the Solomons."

The words felt like a punch to the gut. Hearing it stated so plainly didn’t lessen the sting. Attacked and sunk. He clenched his jaw, the memories of the attack still too raw to let him fully absorb the clinical tone of the news anchor.

“The Prime Minister called the attack an unprovoked assault on New Zealand’s sovereignty, citing ‘irrefutable evidence’ linking the attack to Chinese naval forces.”

Irrefutable evidence, Caleb thought bitterly. And what good will that do us? The words felt hollow to him now, fancy words and a few pictures won’t bring back the dead, won’t bring those kids back home again!

“Tragically, several New Zealand service members lost their lives while on a humanitarian mission to the Solomon Islands.”

Caleb tightened his grip on the remote. Several? He scoffed under his breath. Try dozens! He didn’t need the sanitized version of the truth. He had seen it firsthand—the burning wreckage, the bodies pulled from the water.

“In response, New Zealand has imposed severe economic sanctions on China, expelled Chinese diplomats, and recalled its ambassador to Beijing.”

Sanctions? That’s their first move? Caleb shook his head. It felt too little, too late. China wouldn’t flinch at sanctions, not from a nation as small as New Zealand, even with it’s growing economic power.

“The Prime Minister has warned of further action, including invoking the UN Charter’s Article 51, if China escalates the situation.”

She wouldn’t! The thought raced through his mind, sharp and bemused. That would be suicide! The very idea of invoking Article 51—declaring an armed response—sent a cold shiver down his spine.

“…Meanwhile, China has issued a public statement, President Xiang addressed the world shortly after the Prime Minister’s statement, blaming a deranged rogue captain for the attack…”

Rogue captain? Nice story buddy, but you can fuck right off with that bullshit! Caleb let out a low laugh, caught somewhere between incredulous and seething. He could almost hear the crying laughter of his shipmates at the audacious absurdity of it all.

“…However, this assertion has been met with extreme scepticism within the global community. With growing concerns about China’s military activities in the region, including unconfirmed reports of experimental weapons testing, which some believe may be linked to the recent earthquake and aftershocks in the Solomon Islands, the Presidents words ring hollow.”

Experimental weapons? Caleb frowned, the words unsettling him in a way he couldn’t quite place. What did they mean by that? The attack itself had been brutal enough, but the idea that there might be something more—some new and devastating technology at play—left an unease in his chest. He couldn’t help but think back about those villagers, claiming they saw strange lights in the sky, maybe they weren’t mistaken.

“Tensions continue to rise in the Pacific, with both China and the U.S. increasing their naval presence in the region, heightening the risk of an unintended confrontation."

Unintended? Caleb thought grimly. This doesn’t feel like a mistake! Everything about the attack on the Canterbury had been deliberate, calculated. It was a message—a warning that New Zealand had strayed too close to something the world was not supposed to know about.

“Following our Prime Minister’s live address, in a swift and resolute response, Australian Prime Minister John Mitchell also made a statement today, voicing his country’s full support for New Zealand…”

Caleb turned up the volume. If we’re going to war, we’ll need all the help we can get. Australia’s support was vital, and he wanted to hear exactly what Mitchell had to say.

"Good evening, my fellow Australians.

It is with a deep sense of outrage and resolute determination that I stand before you today in support of our brothers and sisters in New Zealand. This afternoon, Prime Minister Kahu made a public declaration of the heinous attack which had directly targeted and sunk one of their naval vessels—an unprovoked act of aggression in which New Zealand's sovereignty was violated, and the lives of their brave servicemen and women were tragically lost.

Let me be unequivocally clear: Australia stands with New Zealand in this dark hour. Though we may be rivals on the sports field and do our share of bickering, we are closer than any siblings can be and an attack on one is an attack on the other. Our commitment to the security and protection of each other remains as strong as it ever has! I have spoken with Prime Minister Kahu personally and I can assure you that the claims put forward by the New Zealand government are irrefutable.

They have strong evidence which shows that Chinese military forces were directly responsible for this cowardly attack. The sinking of the Canterbury was not an isolated incident but part of a growing pattern of aggression in the Pacific—a pattern that must be stopped before more lives are lost, and peace is irreparably shattered.

As your Prime Minister, I make this promise to New Zealand and to the world: Australia will not stand idly by. In the spirit of ANZAC which forged our two nations irrevocably together in blood and steel, we will continue to support our brothers and sisters to our last breath. We are committed to standing shoulder to shoulder with New Zealand in ensuring that this act of violence does not go unpunished. This is not just an attack on New Zealand—it is an attack on the principles that bind our two nations together, and the very essence of peace and diplomacy.

We will take every necessary step to hold China to account for their actions. The sanctions imposed by New Zealand which we whole heartedly support and will mirror, are just the beginning. Our own response will be swift, strong, and decisive. We will mobilize our forces, we will coordinate with our allies, and we will not hesitate to protect the safety and security of our region and our neighbours. To this end, I have ordered the HMAS Melbourne and her strike group to patrol along the Timor and Arafura seas.

Let me also be clear: We will not allow these events to set a precedent. The Pacific is our home, and we will defend it with all our might. To our New Zealand cousins, I say this: You are not alone. Australia stands with you every step of the way, no matter the cost. Your fight is our fight. We will never abandon you.

The author's tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

The time for words has passed. The time for action is now.

Thank you, and may we honour the memories of those who have fallen in service to our shared cause."

In New Zealand, the Prime Minister has called for unity in the face of this crisis. Parliament will convene in a closed emergency session…… “

By the time the broadcast shifted back to the news anchors, Caleb had heard enough. He jabbed his thumb into the mute button, silencing the television. There was no point in listening to the rest. The same grim truths echoed through every word: a tragedy of epic proportions, a betrayal so sharp it left a scar on the nation, and an inevitable march toward war.

He dropped the remote onto the bedside table, letting it clatter against the surface. The sterile white walls of the hospital room felt suffocating all of a sudden. His thoughts churned, caught between the horror of what had already happened and the dread of what was still to come.

The hours immediately following the Canterbury’s sinking were a blur. Caleb didn’t remember much—just the frantic scramble for survival, the chaos of being thrown into the abyss, and the unbearable weight of the loss. What he did remember, in vivid detail, was waking up in the medical bay of the USS Enterprise. The irony hadn’t been lost on him—Enterprise—a name that once filled his younger, nerdier self with excitement, now felt absurd amidst the pain. "Enterprise," he thought with a bitter laugh. It was a name that should have belonged to a future of hope and exploration, not a hospital bed.

Later, once stabilized, he was transferred to the Navy hospital at Devonport. The contrast was jarring—the quiet sterility of the hospital’s white walls a world apart from the roiling violence of the Pacific waters. His body bore the marks of his survival—bruises, lacerations, and the deep ache of near-drowning—but his mind was a sharper battlefield. Lying there under the harsh fluorescent lights, survivors guilt began to gnaw at him. The thought of the ship and the crew he couldn’t save, the friends he’d lost, the dark waters that had nearly claimed him, consumed his thoughts. Canterbury was gone, and with her, so many good men and women.

He’d tried many times already to piece it together—flashes of the attack, the frantic voices on the bridge, the moments he couldn’t fully recall, but knew would haunt him forever. That news report had come like a final hammer blow, a confirmation of the truth he already knew: his crew was dead, his ship was gone, and New Zealand was being dragged into a game of forces far beyond its control and ability.

As he stared at the white hospital ceiling trying desperately to get to sleep, by counting the individual holes of each roof panel, a harsh realization settled over him. It wasn’t just about his own survival anymore, he was wrestling with the survival of an entire nation and what that might mean for his family. New Zealand, a country that had always prided itself on diplomacy, peacekeeping, and neutral waters, now stood on the precipice. His thoughts were interrupted by the soft sound of boots in the corridor outside. A nurse, maybe?

He sighed, the weight of everything pressing down on him, keeping him awake. Whatever came next, he knew there was no escaping it. The fight wasn’t over—not for him, not for the country. And lying there, battered and bruised, Caleb made a quiet promise to himself: he would not let the sacrifice of his crew be in vain.

“Wow, you look like shit, buddy!” came a familiar voice from the doorway.

Caleb’s head spun toward the sound, instantly regretting the movement as a searing pain shot through him. “Shit!” he swore under his breath, wincing. "Don’t scare me like that!" he barked, followed by a sheepish, "Sir."

The voice chuckled. "Damn, I’m sorry dude. Didn’t mean to hurt you!" Rear Admiral Malachi Mason said, stepping to the side of the bed. "And you can cut the ‘sir’—how long have we known each other?"

Caleb forced a smile. “High school, I think. Actually, no—primary school. But you still outrank me, so…”

Malachi chuckled, parking his butt on the side of the bed, placing a gentle hand on Caleb’s forearm in a gesture of old friendship. “When it’s business, sure, but when it’s not, you don’t have to. You know that.” He gave a knowing grin. "How are you feeling?"

"About as good as I look, I reckon." Caleb replied, his voice dry. He reached out for the glass beside the bed and found it empty, frowning at the just out of reach water jug.

Malachi followed the movement and immediately reached out to pour the cool refreshing liquid into the glass. Replacing the jug on the bedside table, but leaving it much closer this time, his expression turned serious. "Have you spoken to Sarah and Cody?"

"Yeah," Caleb said. "I called them as soon as I got here. Sarah wanted to come in, but it was already late, and Cody was asleep, so I told her not to wake him and wait until tomorrow."

"Well, when you see them, give her a kiss and give my godson a cuddle from me." Malachi gave him a soft smile, then leaned back, his tone shifting. "Now, I’ve got good news for you."

Caleb raised an eyebrow. "Good news? What’s that?"

"You’ve been officially cleared of any wrongdoing regarding the sinking," Malachi stated, his voice firm. "There will be an official inquest later of course, but it’s just a formality, the findings will clear you. It was foreign action. That’s all they’re going to put down for the books."

Caleb sat up a little straighter in his bed. He had been so preoccupied with survival and guilt that he hadn’t even considered this eventuality, suddenly dreading the weight of responsibility for the Canterbury’s loss. Losing a ship is a big deal, and Malachi’s words, though unexpected, were like a healing balm for his tired mind and a surge of gratitude for his old friend washed over him.

"Thanks mate," Caleb muttered, rubbing his face with a weary hand. “I never wanted this to happen. I just wanted to get everyone home safe.”

Malachi’s expression softened. “I know, brother, I know. You were never going to win that one, no matter how hard you tried. Now, let’s talk about what happens next.”

Caleb nodded, his mind already shifting to the next battle—one that was far from over. The country teetered on the brink, and the fight, it seemed, was only just beginning. He didn’t know whether to feel relieved or not.

“So, we are going to war then?” Caleb asked, his voice quiet, as he turned to his oldest friend.

“Not quite yet thankfully!” Malachi answered with a dry chuckle. “But we are on high alert for the foreseeable future. The fleet’s surging. We’ve been ordered to ramp up patrols in the EEZ and further afield. I’m taking the Tangaroa group out in the morning, headed north to patrol the trade routes and I’m told I’ll have some Aussies along for company”

Caleb’s brow furrowed as he processed the information. “Oh shit. Sending the strike group is a big message. Kahu isn’t kidding around!” he said, a low whistle escaping his lips. The gravity of the situation wasn’t lost on him.

“Not this time,” Malachi replied, his tone hardening. “They’ve gone too far, and the Prime Minister’s not going to back down on this one. From what I hear, she’s doing her best to avoid all-out war, but this is a whole new government, with a whole new backbone, this won’t be like last time, we’re no longer dependent on China, and she’s not going to let us be bullied anymore.”

Caleb fell silent, leaning back against his pillows as he mulled over his friend's words. He was a trained warrior, but no real warrior wanted war. It was always a last resort, but as the world around him seemed to spin closer to the brink of conflict, he couldn’t shake an uneasy feeling about the road ahead. A single misstep at any point, could spell the ultimate disaster for everyone.

“Well,” Malachi said, breaking the silence, and drawing Caleb’s focus back to the moment. “I’ve got work to do, and you need to rest, I was only aloud a couple of minutes and that nurse of yours is scary!” He rose from the side of the bed and headed toward the door, but before stepping through, he paused and turned back to Caleb. “Oh, by the way, the Navy’s renaming the newest Achilles destroyer to Canterbury. She just finished sea trials and goes operational next week. They’re going to need a captain. You interested?”

Caleb’s heart skipped a beat. "Captain?" he echoed, surprised.

“Yeah,” Malachi said, with the chuckle and grin of a used car dealer. “It’s an actual captain’s billet. There’s a promotion in it for you if you take it.”

The weight of the offer hit Caleb hard. The new Achilles-class destroyers were based off of the German Sachsen-class but had been heavily modified to suit New Zealand’s purposes. So much so, they were really more like destroyers and the chance to captain one was an awesome undertaking! To call her Canterbury—the name alone sent a wave of emotion through him. She was gone, but her legacy, the sacrifices of those who perished, would live on. To command the new Canterbury? It was an opportunity to honour those lost and give meaning to their sacrifice.

Caleb nodded solemnly, words catching in his throat. That was all the response Malachi needed. With a final, understanding look, he turned to leave. “I’ll file the papers as soon as I’m back on board tonight,” he said over his shoulder. The door closed softly behind him, leaving Caleb alone with the weight of his decision and the future that lay ahead.

He exhaled slowly, his thoughts swirling. The road before him would not be an easy one, but he knew one thing: whatever the cost, whatever came next, he would stand tall for the Canterbury and for every soul she had carried. The fight, it seemed, was only just beginning.