May 17, 1640
Washington, D.C.
President Lee sifted through a stack of papers on his desk, reviewing the main titles of each section as he prepared for a discussion with the three people in front of him: Secretary of Defense Robert Hill, Secretary of State Gordon Heiden, and Speaker of the House Lynda Schiefer. “Thanks for coming on such short notice,” he told them, setting down the papers.
“Of course, sir,” Hill replied.
“What’s going on with Mu, Mister President?” Schiefer asked, remembering the quick request she received.
“Robert,” Lee nodded at the man, urging him to explain.
“A couple days ago, the Sonal Kingdom was attacked by Gra Valkan Army forces. At the same time, a Gra Valkan naval force sank a Nigrat Union patrol fleet and they’re likely mopping up the rest of Nigrat’s naval forces as we speak. We’ve lifted restrictions on weapon exports, allowing them to buy certain gear, like body armor and basic rifles.” Hill’s expression grew dimmer. “Even with the help Mu and the Holy Mirishial Empire are giving, we expect Sonal and Nigrat to fall within a few months – as early as fall.”
Schiefer sighed, “Another war looms on the horizon, huh?” Although she and her colleagues had many connections who stood to gain from war, they knew that continued conflict would rile up their constituents sooner or later.
Lee confirmed her thoughts, “Yes. Public opinion might not fare so well, especially for a conflict this far away. So I, along with Robert, have come up with a proposal to sell weapons in bulk to Mu and the Holy Mirishial Empire. We need your opinion on these proposals, to see if Congress will accept them.”
“Congress?” Schiefer was confused. “But you already have full authority under the Arms Export Control Act?”
“Under normal circumstances, yes,” Lee said. “However, the new Technological Control Act poses a lot of barriers for the responses I believe are necessary to counter Gra Valkan aggression. That, and I need you to justify an expansion of the military budget. We want to bring some more factories online, to produce equipment for Mu and later on, for ourselves – when we finally have to prepare against the Annonrials and Ravernals, that is.”
“Okay. What’s the plan?”
Hill explained, “We want to sell some of our old, Cold War stockpile to Mu in order to bolster their defenses in anticipation of an inevitable Gra Valkan invasion. Naturally, this violates the Technological Control Act. We would sell World War 2 era equipment, but we have almost nothing but rusting artifacts and museum pieces. This is where Congress would come in, to enable more flexibility with the Act.”
Schiefer followed the explanation well, but still harbored some doubts. Moving some gray hairs away from her eyes, she tilted her head and asked, “If we’re going to revive some factories, why not just produce the equipment they need?”
“It’ll take too long,” Hill shook his head. “The Muans think a Gra Valkan attack is imminent, and our analysts share the same conclusions. Reviving the factories, building these weapons, and shipping the equipment there will take a lot of time. We’ll probably make the first shipment, but it won’t be nearly enough to build up Mu’s defenses. If the Gra Valkans attack by the end of summer, then Mu’s as good as dead.”
Schiefer still felt uneasy about having to convince her colleagues to enact new legislations and revise old ones. “In that case, what about the Mirishials? Aren’t they obligated to help the Muans, since they’re a member of the Elysian Defense Initiative?”
Heiden gave an awkward response, “Ehhh technically they are, but you know how prideful these people are. The Muans and Mirishials have a historic rivalry; the Muans wouldn’t want to ask the Mirishials for help unless it was truly necessary, nor do they want to let the Mirishials expand their influence on the Muan continent.”
“Is it not ‘truly necessary’?” Schiefer wondered. “Do the Muans not see how dire their situation is?”
Heiden shrugged. “Beats me. Either way, we’ll probably have an easier time selling weapons to them than convincing the Muans to allow the Mirishials to begin deploying forces. Plus, helping the Muans out here will give us a lot of favor in the future. They’ll be indebted to us, especially if we save them from the clutches of the Gra Valkans.”
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“And, might I add,” Lee said, interjecting, “It will also help our economy recover. We’re not reeling from the hit like we were last year, but we’re still not completely back to pre-transference levels yet. Less maintenance costs and more money — plus new factory jobs — will be a pretty great boon for us,” he smiled. “You know just how much the people can be swayed by a great economy.”
Schiefer conceded. The trouble she would have to face in Congress would be nothing compared to the troubles she would experience if the United States got dragged into yet another war without public support. Heiden and Lee’s points were also convincing, if not outright enticing. “Alright,” she sighed, “What do you want to sell to the Muans?” She looked up at Hill and Lee.
Lee picked up the report, listing items as he flipped through it. “Let’s start with basic infantry supplies… We were planning on selling surplus guns and basic equipment to the Muans: old M4s, M16s, M60s, and the like. We’re also selling them a bunch of ammo, armor, and tactical equipment like flashbangs.”
“Okay, all of that should be okay without any modifications to the Technological Control Act.”
Lee continued, “And then we’ve got more advanced gear, to help the Muans take down Gra Valkan armor and aircraft.” He dragged his finger along the pages, identifying the necessary materials as he listed them, “FIM-92 Stingers, M-72 LAWs, AT-4s, Carl Gustafs, RPGs, and explosive equipment like C4, mines, and grenades.”
Schiefer nodded, knowing how terribly outmatched the Muans are. “These should fly by Congress, I don’t think we’ll have too many issues here.”
“And finally, we have the section where Congress will probably have issues,” Lee said. “Tanks, aircraft, anti-air systems and anti-ship systems.”
“It will really depend on what you want to sell to the Muans,” Schiefer said. “I’ll do what I can, but Congress won’t like it if these items are too advanced.”
“And hopefully, we won’t have to give the Muans anything too advanced,” Hill reciprocated. “We’ve already sold blueprints for old gear, like the Sherman and the Mustang. Since we don’t have supplies of these vehicles readily available for sale, I proposed the sale of gear we do have available: older M1 Abrams, Cobra attack helicopters, Chinooks, F4 Phantoms, and some older model reserve F15s and F16s.”
“I can understand tanks and helicopters, but fighter jets? We’re giving the Muans fighter jets?” Schiefer asked in surprise. “Do they even have jet technology yet?”
Lee held his hand out and reassured her, “Look, I feel on edge about giving them jet technology just as much as you do. But,” he held a finger in the air, stressing the word, “There are lots of reasons to justify this. Robert?”
Hill continued where Lee left off, “The Muans face the threat of Gra Valkan bombers, which can fly out of range of any Stingers we sell to them. The only way to level the playing field is to either give them post-war monoplane fighters – which we no longer maintain any stock of – or to give them fighter jets that we do have stock of. We have a small stockpile of Phantoms that we can restore, but not enough to fight off the sheer number of bombers operated by the Gra Valkans – which is why I’m proposing the sale of F-15s and F-16s, stripped of most of their electronic equipment.”
Hill’s words were convincing, but not convincing enough. “I still don’t think we should be giving them our technology. Those people learn fast,” Schiefer warned.
Hill reassured her, “Miss Schiefer, if you’re concerned about uplifting Muans technologically, I can assure you that any sale of these jets won’t give them much insight. After all, they’ll be too busy constantly fighting the Gra Valkans to dissect any of the planes we sell them. And if we’re still wary, we can always just provide the jets under a lend-lease program, so we won’t have to worry about the Muans reverse-engineering components after the Gra Valkans have been defeated.”
Schiefer conceded once more, feeling pressured by the eyes staring at her. “I’ll see what I can do. And what about those anti-air and anti-ship systems you were talking about, Mister President?”
“Assuming the sale of jets is approved, we won’t be needing anti-air systems. We were thinking about patriot systems, but they’ll likely prove inefficient and too difficult to set up compared to Stingers and old jets. Yeah, now that I think about it, we would have to export computers and advanced tracking electronics to set up a Patriot system. As for anti-ship, Hill’s analysts recommended Naval Strike Missiles and associated trucks to serve as launch platforms.”
“Those… require targeting systems, do they not?” Schiefer asked.
Lee frowned, seeing where Schiefer was headed.
“They do,” Hill responded.
“I’ll… see what I can do. It probably won’t pan out though.”
Lee shrugged. “I understand. Asking for those was quite the stretch in the first place. Well, it doesn't hurt to ask.”
Heiden agreed, “Good try though, Mister President.”
Lee nodded and continued his request, “Naval mines though, do you think you’d be able to get approval for those?”
Schiefer gave the question some thought before responding with a resounding “I believe so, Mister President.”
“Well then, I think that concludes our meeting.” Lee then turned toward Hill, “Robert, have your department send the files to the members of Congress.”
“I’ll get right on it, sir.”
He then handed Schiefer the proposal, “Here’s the list of requisitioned gear.”
Schiefer accepted it and nodded.
“Remember, the sooner Congress decides, the better off our friends overseas will be. Good luck.”