For decades, under the guise of benevolence and regional cooperation, The Dragon funnelled vast sums of money into the economies of the Pacific. At first, it appeared an act of goodwill—low-interest loans, infrastructure projects, and economic aid to struggling island nations. But when the time came to repay these debts, many found themselves unable to meet the Dragon’s demands. That was when the true cost of their generosity became clear.
Relentless in its pursuit of influence, The Dragon strong-armed governments into surrendering strategic assets—ports, telecommunications networks, and resource industries fell under his control. When economic coercion alone proved insufficient, more overt tactics followed. The Dragon’s "fishing fleets," armed and operating as an unofficial naval militia, encroached upon sovereign waters, depleted fish stocks, and cut off essential food supplies. Entire nations, from the Philippines to smaller Pacific Island states, were brought to their knees—not through war, but through systematic starvation and economic blackmail.
All in the name of power. All in pursuit of the Dragon’s singular ambition: to upend the world order and reign as the unchallenged hegemon of the Pacific.
And the world stood by and watched.
Western liberal democracies, entrenched in complacency, ignored the Dragon’s creeping influence. As long as trade flowed smoothly through the Strait of Malacca and the South China Sea, what did it matter if the Philippines had no fish? Or if Vietnam’s territorial waters swarmed with The Dragon’s warships disguised as fishing trawlers? Their economies thrived on consumerism and global commerce; as long as their supply chains remained intact, they were content to turn a blind eye.
But the illusion of stability could not last forever. As war raged in Europe and the Middle East, the fragility of Pacific security became impossible to ignore. The era of Western complacency was ending. Someone had to act.
That someone was New Zealand.
Over the period of fifteen short years, New Zealand transformed itself from a minor regional player into a global force in defence, industry, and trade. The path was not easy—there were setbacks, fierce opposition both local and abroad, and internal challenges—but through sheer determination, what the locals call mahi, New Zealand emerged from Australia's shadow and began to forge its own destiny.
It started with investment. Foreign companies, recognizing an opportunity, returned, building on the remnants of industries long since moved offshore. Government incentives and a highly skilled workforce drew global giants—Boeing, RTX, Honeywell, and BAE Systems—establishing new manufacturing hubs. Defence technology, aerospace engineering, shipbuilding, and renewable energy became the foundation of New Zealand’s industrial resurgence.
By 2038, key industries powered the nation’s economic strength:
* Koru Energy: Managing New Zealand’s vast oil reserves and its multi-billion-dollar Petroleum Fund.
* KoruGreen Oil Refineries: Refining oil for domestic and international markets.
* Carter Holt Timber Mills & Fletcher Steel: Producing high-quality, affordable steel and construction materials.
* Koru Mining Consortium: Supplying coal and rare earth minerals for domestic industry.
* Babcock Marine NZ & Oceania Naval Works: Shipbuilding and vessel maintenance for a growing blue-water navy.
* Aotearoa Defence Optics (ADO) Ltd: Pioneering high-energy laser (HEL) systems for military use.
* Defence Innovations NZ: Advancing military technology across all services.
* Boeing NZ: UAV and fighter aircraft assembly, specializing in stealth drone warfare.
* Hillside Engineering: Heavy machinery manufacturing.
New Zealand also became a global leader in technology and biotech:
* KiwiTech: Specializing in AI-driven solutions for energy, agriculture, and finance.
* Pacific Data Analytics: Providing AI-powered insights for defence and industry.
* Kōkako Microsystems Ltd: Producing cost-effective, radiation-hardened microprocessors for military and space applications.
* Otago University Biotech & Space Medicine Research Facility: Driving advancements in medicine and bioengineering.
Even space was not left behind:
* SkyGuard Aerospace: Producing drones, satellite systems, and surveillance technology.
* Rocket Lab: A global leader in low-cost orbital launches and satellite solutions.
* RTX Corporation NZ: Manufacturing aerospace and missile systems with AI-guided weaponry.
* Waikato Robotics & Automation Hub: Leading in AI-driven industrial and agricultural automation.
Meanwhile, cybersecurity became a cornerstone of national security, with the National Cyber Security Command leading AI-driven cyber operations. At the same time, New Zealand doubled down on renewable energy—expanding hydro, tidal, wind, and geothermal power stations to support its surging industrial base.
This transformation was no accident. It was a calculated response to a world teetering on the edge of chaos, orchestrated by the New Zealand government in concert with its industrial sector under the Koru brand. Oil, energy, ports and logistics, bio-research—these were just some of its many divisions. And through it all, the government reinvested its profits back into the nation, creating a stable economy. By 2038, New Zealand’s GDP had surpassed $900 billion, supporting a population just shy of 11.5 million.
While the Western world hesitated, New Zealand acted. Through strategic investment, industrial revitalization, and unwavering national resolve, it rebuilt its military from the ground up.
* Military bases were modernized, expanded, or constructed from scratch.
* The Royal New Zealand Navy grew into a true blue-water force.
* The Royal New Zealand Air Force was revitalized and rearmed.
* The New Zealand Army underwent a radical transformation, acquiring cutting-edge armour, artillery, and missile defence systems.
Defence and technology pacts were formally signed, with Australia at first, who also shared in the benefits of a stronger New Zealand, both in trade and wealth. Then came the United States and others. Leading to the signing of the Canada Australia New Zealand and United Kingdom (CANZUK) defence pact in 2033, and the full reinstatement of the ANZUS treaty in 2038. The Five Eyes network was unofficially expanded at this time to also include Japan, South Korea and Taiwan.
Together with its strongest, closest and most trusted allies, New Zealand had ensured its sovereignty and that of its realm, secured its future, and cemented its place on the world stage.
No longer a passive bystander, it now stood as the guardian of the Pacific—a nation unwilling to bow to foreign coercion. And as the spectre of conflict loomed ever larger, one thing was clear:
Aotearoa would never stand idly by again.
***
When the Dragon unleashed its opening salvo, devastation followed in its wake. American bases across Guam, Okinawa, Japan, and South Korea were left in ruins, struck with merciless precision by waves of ballistic and cruise missiles—both land-based and submarine-launched. Their own formidable Aegis based defence network worked hard, but with thousands of missiles launched, the assault was swift, brutal, and utterly overwhelming.
Strangely, Diego Garcia—often considered a key strategic node—was largely ignored. Perhaps the Chinese war planners deemed it too distant to be an immediate threat, or maybe their focus was elsewhere. Either way, what little remained of American air assets in the region—fighters, bombers, tankers, AWACS—were forced to find a home elsewhere, there was nothing left for them to return to. Most aircraft managed to find refuge at friendly allied bases, but not all were so lucky. The Taiwanese Air Force, caught in the storm, had nowhere to go.
The loss of Taiwan.
The initial missile barrage overwhelmed and obliterated its defences in a matter of hours, paving the way for a relentless amphibious assault. Chinese invasion barges sailed unopposed onto Taiwan’s shores, securing a total victory within the first week before an organized resistance could even take shape. American and allied personnel left behind on the island were captured, shipped deep into China, and interned in prison camps.
If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.
Allied Losses
The opening strikes had cost the allies, but particularly the United States, dearly—not just in land-based installations, but in its naval might.
Guam was a smoking ruin. The aircraft carrier USS Abraham Lincoln was sent to the depths, a flaming wreck torn apart by hypersonic “Carrier Killer” missiles before it had a chance to mount a proper defence. The USS Carl Vinson fared little better—though it survived, the extensive damage to its arrestor gear meant it would be out of action for months, lingering helplessly in dry dock.
Another crippling loss came at Okinawa, where the USS Ronald Reagan, tied alongside taking on supplies and crew for an urgent sailing, had little opportunity to defend itself, the damage was bad enough, but the loss of life and experience was near catastrophic.
Her sailing unannounced and already at sea the USS John F Kennedy, escaped most of the attack, her airwing able to do some serious counter strikes in the coming days and weeks. The smaller LHD’s and destroyers still at Okinawa managed to escape most of the destruction, but they too took damage. The good news, if you could call it that, was that unlike the Lincoln, the Reagan was only half-submerged, and efforts would soon be underway to refloat and repair her battered hull.
The Storm Over Korea
Alarms blared through the command centres of Seoul, shrieking like banshees through underground bunkers and war rooms. The attack they had long feared, the one they had prepared for with relentless vigilance, had finally come.
It began with a hailstorm of missiles, streaking across the sky like fiery lances. China’s hypersonic glide vehicles, North Korea’s ballistic missiles, and swarms of cruise missiles roared down on airbases, naval yards, and command infrastructure. The South’s THAAD and KM-SAM batteries sprang to life, filling the skies with interceptors, but for every missile they knocked down, three more took its place.
The DMZ, ablaze.
For decades, North Korea had prepared for this moment, and now, its war machine rumbled forward with sheer, overwhelming force. Thousands of tanks, armored personnel carriers, and self-propelled artillery rolled southward—a seemingly endless column of steel and fire. Rocket artillery hammered the border fortifications, turning once-impregnable defences into craters and smouldering wreckage. Waves of infantry followed, clad in the dark-green uniforms of the Korean People’s Army, storming through the breaches.
The Republic of Korea Armed Forces—hardened by decades of drills, war games, and the ever-present spectre of invasion—did not falter. From fortified positions, K2 Black Panther tanks emerged, their sleek frames manoeuvring swiftly, their 120 mm smoothbore cannons roaring in defiance. K-9 Thunder howitzers unleashed counter-barrages, reducing entire regiments of advancing infantry to broken wreckage.
The Republic of Korea Air Force scrambled in full force. KF-21 Boramae fighters, F-15K Slam Eagles, and F-35As roared into the skies, hunting enemy bombers and cruise missiles. Their AWACS directed precision airstrikes, cutting through North Korean armored spearheads before they could break through the outer defences.
Retribution at Sea
Off the coast, the Republic of Korea Navy was locked in a vicious, high-stakes duel where seconds meant survival and the ocean itself seemed to be at war.
The ROKS Sejong the Great, flanked by her sister ships ROKS Yul Gok Yi I and ROKS Seoae Ryu Seong-Ryong, rode the waves like sentinels of steel supported by their escorts and smaller vessels. These Aegis destroyers among the most advanced warships in the world, were in constant motion—dodging torpedoes, evading missile barrages, and striking back with ruthless precision.
Beneath the surface, South Korean anti-submarine warfare (ASW) teams fought a shadowy battle against the unseen threat of Chinese and North Korean attack submarines. The telltale pings of sonar echoed through the command centres, the operators frantically identifying enemy signatures before they could close the kill distance. K-Super Lynx helicopters and P-8 Poseidons prowled overhead, launching sonobuoys and torpedoes into the abyss.
But the Sejong-class destroyers weren’t just playing defence. They were unleashing hell. Each ship was armed with newly upgraded HELIOS-TWK Mk1 500kw directed-energy lasers, and they were proving their worth in battle. As enemy YJ-21 hypersonic missiles and CJ-10 cruise missiles screamed toward the fleet, the HELIOS systems burned them from the sky with pinpoint accuracy—turning the once-unstoppable salvos into nothing more than harmless streaks of plasma.
The Sejong-class destroyers let loose their own storm of retribution. Haeseong-II cruise missiles streaked low over the waves, threading the needle through enemy defences before striking Chinese warships with surgical precision. The K-SAAM air defence system picked off enemy aircraft attempting to close the gap, while the SM-6 and SM-3 interceptors ensured that no ballistic missile found its mark. One by one, enemy vessels erupted into fireballs, their shattered hulls sinking beneath the churning sea.
Despite the onslaught, the ROK Navy remained a step ahead, using their advanced Aegis systems to coordinate attacks with allied warships and aircraft. The burning wreckage of enemy frigates, corvettes, and even a Type 055 destroyer marked the ocean like grave markers—a testament to South Korea’s unyielding defiance. The battle was far from over, but one thing was clear: The Republic of Korea Navy wasn’t just surviving, they were winning.
The Allies strike back
From the east, Japan launched its own response. Mitsubishi F-3 fighters and American-supplied F-35Bs swept in from carriers off the coast, striking Chinese airbases and disrupting their logistical chains.
The USS John F Kennedy carrier strike group launched its first wave of sorties. B-21 Spirits, B-1B Lancers and B-52 Stratofortresses having taken off earlier from bases in Guam, Darwin, and Diego Garcia, flew high above the carnage, dropping their payloads on critical bridges, supply depots, and command centres deep inside enemy territory.
But despite the reinforcements, the war remained on a knife’s edge. For months, it was touch and go. South Korea fought with desperate resolve, its cities transformed into defensive strongholds, its forces battered but unbroken. The question was no longer if they could hold, but was how long they could endure, and at what cost.
In the southwestern theatre
China’s bombers and naval forces met a very different fate. The moment Chinese missile and bomber launches were detected, RAAF F-35As and RNZAF F-15EXs scrambled from their bases on the mainland, accompanied by EA-18G Growlers, E-7 Wedgetails, and KC-46 Pegasus tankers. The seventy-strong allied air force tore through the approaching bomber fleet, turning their coordinated assault into a bloodbath. What was meant to be a crushing first strike turned into a costly miscalculation for the Chinese.
Meanwhile, at sea, the Royal Navy and Royal Australian Navy carriers were waiting.
A combined force—HMS Queen Elizabeth, HMAS Melbourne, and HMS Ark Royal—had already been on high alert following the suspicious loss of an RAAF P-8 Poseidon and the continual warnings from the monitoring stations at Pine Gap and HMNZS Irirangi. When the three carrier strong Chinese battle group arrived, it walked straight into a trap.
The engagement was short, brutal, and decisive.
Despite launching their attack on schedule, China’s carriers—two Type004’s the Shanxi and Guangxi and the type002 Liaoning—found themselves outmatched, outgunned, and outmanoeuvred. The Queen Elizabeth sustained damage to her forward island but remained operational. The Liaoning took eight hits from the allies Naval Strike Missiles and was transformed into a barely floating inferno, gradually sinking beneath the waves. One of the Type 004 carriers, Shanxi, barely escaped, limping home with what remained of the combined battered air group. The third carrier Guangxi never made it back, its twisted wreck resting at the bottom of the sea.
In the air, they had lost the better part of two air wings, on the other side, allied losses were minimal by comparison—a single EA-18G Growler and two F-35Cs were lost. A bitter exchange for China, whose dream of regional naval dominance had just been if not shattered, certainly blunted.
A Resilient Defence
The Chinese ballistic missile assault on Australia, New Zealand, and their island territories was no less aggressive. Fiji, the Solomon Islands, and other key installations on the main-lands took multiple direct hits—but the losses were nowhere near what Beijing had anticipated.
It had taken a lot of work, a lot of forethought and a lot of money, but thanks to extensive pre-war fortifications and defensive systems, the damage was minimal. Anything hit was restored within a week and the loss of life was in the tens, instead of the staggering.
The backbone of their resilience? The Aegis-at-Home network and the cutting-edge HELIOS-TWK Mk1 laser defence systems.
Working in unison, these next-generation interceptors ensured that well over 90% of incoming missiles were neutralized before impact. The result: China's first-strike gamble had mixed success. Its naval forces had taken a serious bloody nose, its southern bomber force decimated, and the southern front remained unbroken.
China had set out to deliver a crippling blow. Instead, the damage was not as crippling as they would have hoped. The loss of their carriers was a definite blow, but not an unsurmountable one, they had more in reserve. The same could be said for their fighter and bomber wings.
The Dragon had bared its fangs, and the Allies had snapped back.