As of August 23, 2022, this chapter has been revised
Cent. Calendar 05/06/1639, Prime Minister’s Residence, Tokyo, Japan, 18:00
As the sun set on what had been an eventful day in Louria, prime minister Takamori Hideaki and his cabinet were called to be briefed on the results of Operation Zanzibar and what had transpired in Gim.
Eager to find out what had happened himself, Takamori had made extra sure to be early, entering the empty meeting room and spending an hour or so cooped up in the air-conditioned environment. The sound of his hand rhythmically tapping the table was the only sound that permeated within the four white walls. He then remembers the countless meetings he had had with his cabinet in the room since the day of the transfer a month and a half ago. Understanding that the operation had a risk of blowing up in their face, he nonetheless still greenlit its execution, as the dire economic situation in Japan meant that a prolonged deployment of men and equipment more than the minimum would be fewer resources towards other important avenues, like healthcare, food production, law enforcement, etc. If the war did not end immediately and on their terms, everything would spiral beyond what they could realistically manage.
As the rhythm of his hand tapping began to pick up, the beat was finally broken by the sound of the door opening and then the footsteps of his cabinet. Walking behind the ministers taking their seats was a man in a suit whose urgency and poise were more than apparent from his sleek movements moving past the ministers and their aides with minimal contact. Emerging at the other end of the table to face the ministers and Takamori, the man adjusted his glasses and coughed before speaking.
“Prime minister, if I may.”
Confused at his presence since he was expecting someone else, Takamori took the time to ask.
“Asada? What are you doing here? I have not been informed of your return.”
Despite being National Security Advisor, the man, Asada Taiji, hasn’t been present in the meetings due to a traffic accident during the day of the transfer that left him with a broken rib bone and arm. While he was given the minutes of previous meetings and reports during his time at the hospital, he decided to be the one to present for this particular meeting. The result of the accident was still apparent in the form of a cast around his left arm..
“Apologies, prime minister. I decided to return on short notice of my own volition after hearing of what happened with Operation Zanzibar.”
Giving out his hand as a gesture of affirmation, Takamori signed to Asada to get on with it. The injured National Security Advisor then got his aides to distribute the documents detailing the outcome of the operation in question. As soon as they got their hands on it and began perusing through the pages, Asada coughed before starting.
“At exactly noon six hours ago, the advanced elements of the Lourian army crossed the Louria–Qua-Toyne border and commenced their assault on the town of Gim.”
Asada then turned to his back, where a map of the battle was projected onto the blank sheet on the wall.
“The GSDF 2nd Division responded accordingly, annihilating the Lourian army, its wyvern airborne units, and artillery units. They’ve confirmed around 15,000 casualties on the Lourian side while Japanese and Qua-Toynian forces suffered none. However, the town of Gim suffered considerable damage to much of its infrastructure due to Lourian artillery bombardment.”
A collective sigh emanated from the ministers. Some of these contained tones of long-awaited relief while some had hints of unavoidable sorrow. While they were all content with the lack of loss of life on their side, the 15,000 casualty count they inflicted on the Lourians was a number too big for many to swallow. Moreover, the fact that Gim still suffered damages worried some of them about dealing with certain angry voices that might call on the government to handle responsibility for the damages. Not everyone wins, unfortunately, even in a lopsided engagement.
“Did we completely annihilate them?”
Sanada, the Minister of Education, Culture, Sports, Science, and Technology, raised his hand and asked.
“No. During the sweep, Qua-Toynian soldiers happened upon Lourian survivors, who immediately surrendered to them. They are currently totaled at 57. Fortunately, there were no incidents or altercations during the sweep as the Lourian soldiers were all too shell-shocked from the fighting to do anything significant.”
Some of the ministers, including Sanada, nodded with varying levels of contentment with what they heard. Having some survive the encounter may be good for persuading future plans on attacking them. Then again, the toll on the mental health of these survivors is worrisome–even more so the annoying voices that may advocate for the welfare of these soldiers. There will definitely be tears and shouts of anger as some ministers thought about it.
“On another note... Ine, an observer, sent by Princess Llanfair, has remarked that our artillery strikes on the Lourian positions have caused unfortunate damage.”
Perplexed by the wording of the statement, the other ministers looked in confusion and grave anticipation at Asada. Sighing deeply, he continued.
“According to her, the mortar positions were manned by civilians–the camp followers of the Lourian army.”
Hearing the c-word, the ministers’ faces suddenly turned pale.
Their first war in 70 years, and their combat actions already produced collateral damage. While the thought of getting those civilians killed was horrible, the ministers all had one concern above all else: the backlash they’d earn from everyone in the country. The opposition will definitely have a field day. The media will more than certainly hound their asses for the foreseeable future. For the sake of moving on with the presentation, Takamori waved at Asada to continue.
“More pressing, however, are the remains found among the wreckage of the mortars. According to the Qua-Toynians and surrendered Lourians that examined the remains which still had uniforms, they all said that those were the uniforms worn by soldiers from Parpaldia.”
Willing to distract themselves from the prior issue, the ministers then shelved it mentally before taking in what Asada said in full. They then scratched their heads at the diplomatic issue this could present. While they were aware of rumors that the Parpaldians were helping the Lourians in exchange for influence, they weren’t expecting them to actually provide arms and men. For such a diplomatic issue to come up despite not yet contacting the Parpaldians was indeed a headache. Thinking of something to soothe the worries of everyone, Takamori spoke up.
“If the Parpaldians aren’t public with their armed support for Louria, then they might rather sweep these casualties under the rug rather than directly pin the responsibility on us. Doing so could implicate them in this conflict.”
Minister of Foreign Affairs Agano Kenzo, feeling that the Prime Minister’s statement was too optimistic, countered.
“With all due respect, prime minister, I still think we need to be cautious with regards to that. It’s no secret that the Parpaldians are expansionist and proud, so they still might hold us responsible for this.”
Nodding in agreement with Agano’s statement, Takamori then ended the topic so that they could move back to Operation Zanzibar’s results. Asada then continued to speak.
“At 1215h, our ASDF contingent took off from Naha to proceed with the decapitation strike on Louria. At approximately 1320h, they conducted an aerial refueling with a USAF tanker before proceeding to their objective. At this point, one of the fighters had to return due to a canopy malfunction.”
Hearing the words “canopy malfunction”, the other ministers sighed and chuckled. All too often, they heard of ASDF fighters suffering such malfunctions during routine exercises and even intercepts of Russian or Chinese airspace violations. While amusing, it was still serious, and it highlighted the delicacy of the SDF’s equipment, now made even more pressing by the disappearance of international suppliers. Takamori then looked to the Minister of Defense, Okada Masako.
“Get the ASDF to investigate this issue. We need to lessen the occurrence of these incidents in the future.”
“They are already investigating.”
Okada replied with promptness and brevity. Asada then continued.
“At approximately 14:10, the fighters reached the capital, Jin-Hark, uncontested and dropped their payload. After the bombing and subsequent analysis of the wreckage, the pilots all concluded that King Hark Louria XXXIV was killed, and refueled before returning to Naha. Their conclusion is corroborated by representatives of Lourian lords, who were leading the main Lourian army, coming to the border to sue for peace. According to them, the king was killed in an attack, and they wanted to cease hostilities with Qua-Toyne and Japan.”
Happy with the success of Operation Zanzibar, the ministers applauded. After four hours of hostilities, the Lourian War could finally conclude in their favor. Them taking the risk had paid off. While he too was glad about the peaceful outcome, Takamori ought to bring the meeting back to earth.
“A crisis averted is indeed a cause for celebration, but the peace hasn’t been settled yet. Who’s on the ground on our side?”
Agano responded to Takamori’s question.
“Our ambassador to Qua-Toyne, Kuribayashi, is now at Gim to discuss terms. As for Qua-Toyne, they have sent several of their High Council members. We will scrutinize the terms before it can be set in stone.”
Content with the plan of action, Takamori clapped his hands to signal the end of the meeting and the beginning of the backlash.
“We can’t be too happy with this outcome. Once this goes public, we must anticipate that many of our countrymen will not appreciate this move. This meeting is adjourned!”
Cent. Calendar 07/06/1639, National Diet Building, Tokyo, Japan, 10:00
Deep inside the gray, monolithic walls that house the men and women of power that determine Japan’s survival in this new world, shouts of anger and frustration reverberate across the chamber, adding more fuel to an already raging conflagration taking place across the country.
“How could you openly and outright kill the sovereign of another state?! Without consulting us?! This is a blatant act of power abuse!”
“Japan is not the United States! Is this not an act of aggression?! Japan is supposed to be a state sponsor of peace! Is it not stated in Article 9 of the Constitution?!”
After details of Operation Zanzibar were made public, the entire country exploded into chaos. Pacifism-leaning politicians, peace advocates, non-Japanese Asian populations, and survivors of the Second World War all cried out in unison their denunciation of the operation and those who greenlighted it. Being summoned to the Diet to provide a statement and answer questions, Takamori was in hot water. His expression may have taken a stern outlook but even his palms were sweating from harsh words being hammered right at his face. Not even his own party members–including those more outlandish ones under ultranationalist ideologies–were out there defending his actions. It makes sense: a prime minister and his cabinet had just approved a military operation–without consent from the Diet nor the people–that aimed to and succeeded in killing Hark Louria XXXIV, king and sovereign of the kingdom of Louria. From what perspective they have, it was an act of unnecessary escalation on Japan’s part and an act of power abuse on Takamori’s; at this point in time, standing up for him was a death sentence.
Keeping his own wavering confidence under the blanket of an unmoving poker face, Takamori responded to questions regarding his involvement in the operation.
“...I gave the operation a greenlight.”
With those words coming straight out of his own mouth, the Diet erupted into a frenzy.
“So you did facilitate the bombing of another capital!”
“Militarist scum!”
“How dare you stand before us! Japan will suffer a long road of destruction with you at the helm!”
“Thank goodness I didn’t vote for you!”
“How do you think other countries in Asherah will take this?! This will make a horrible first impression!”
“We agreed only to the deployment of the Self Defense Force! This operation, which did not even pass through us, is clearly you abusing your powers!”
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Fuming internally, Takamori could only bear to show some of his animosity by scratching his head in frustration. Taking a deep breath, he started to speak.
“I made the decision to give the operation a greenlight since it was the best option in ending the conflict, considering our limited resources.”
Hearing this, the Diet had more than enough comebacks to hurl at the Prime Minister.
“‘The best option?! Are you out of your mind?! Did you not consider its constitutionality?!”
“We could have settled this diplomatically and peacefully!”
“Japan does not want any blood on its hands! We should have exercised more caution!”
“Just resign, damn it!”
Out of the sea of enraged voices, this one line commanding him to resign stood out. Soon, the other lines were drowned out by repeated calls for resignation with varying degrees of anger and sarcasm. To this, Takamori lost some of his cool, tearing off his facade of composure with a deep sigh, which he made audibly clear on the microphones on his podium.
“Resign? Really???”
He wasn’t even holding back at this point–his own frustrations were out there for everyone to see and hear. Intimidated, most of the Diet members flinched and stopped shouting at him. With this temporary respite in attacks, Takamori pressed on.
“In these trying times of hunger, suffering, and melancholy, do you really want to plunge the country into a political crisis?!”
This diversion of the topic was not lost on many of the Diet members, who then quickly readied themselves to berate Takamori for it. However, he was well aware of this and so he pressed his tone and point.
“While our countrymen are out there toiling away blood and sweat to provide food on the table for themselves and their countrymen, you dare bring up politics?!”
With whatever empty confidence he could muster, Takamori slammed his fist onto the podium and bared his gruffly, obviously pissed voice onto the Diet–a tactic which somehow worked. The chamber was as silent as the empty streets of Tokyo.
“A danger that would have plunged Japan deeper into this transfer crisis has just been taken care of. We did it not for the sake of furthering any of our political goals; it is simply for the good of our countrymen and the different peoples that are stranded here.”
“But you fail to understand the cons-”
Suddenly, a loud slam echoed throughout the chamber. Takamori, shedding away the last of his composure, slammed the podium with both of his fists. It was an act, but his emotions weren’t.
“Let me finish, goddammit!”
His resounding remarks nailed the coffin on any further resistance, and thus the Diet was now rendered as ineffective as the hungry, despairing citizens watching from beyond their television screens.
“Trade with the Rodenius continent remains open, allowing food to begin returning to pre-transfer levels. Our decisive action in Jin-Hark has guaranteed peace on the continent; the Lourian princes and dukes are now at the peace table in Gim with our diplomats!”
Everyone in the chamber knew that every word coming out of Takamori’s mouth sounded a bit terrifying. These were bonafide truths–there is no fault there. However, it set off alarm bells–even if relatively silent–within these Diet members. Despite the benefits they have gotten off of Operation Zanzibar, it was clearly still achieved via an act of aggression: Japan had used military force to settle an international dispute–something clearly forbidden in the Constitution. It was flat out illegal and unconstitutional. Yet... somehow... they couldn’t speak up. Takamori’s points about them being in the middle of an existential crisis was legitimate–but it was also an urgent matter they needed to attend to. Was his unconstitutional act forgivable in this sense and context? Apparently, it doesn’t matter, for Takamori was going to keep talking to keep everyone from pondering over it.
“You can debate the politics and constitutionality of our actions in the past week, but the effects are undeniable. Louria is pacified with little blood shed on their part, on our part, and on the Qua-Toynians’ part. With that out of the way, our most pressing domestic concerns still hang over us: nonrenewable energy sources, raw materials, new trade partners that can buy our more sophisticated goods...”
He was right. Most of their constituents are part of industries that are hit hardest by the abrupt transfer of Japan to Asherah. While the countries within their sphere are a welcome boon, none of them possess the kind of massive economy that can afford or even support the sophisticated, manufactured goods the industries of Japan produce. To this end, the past one and a half months have been harsh on their coffers, which now contain practically valueless currency that can’t be exchanged. Plans of investing in the modernization of the countries around them have been brought up, but they hoped to find peoples and countries that are already modern enough.
At this point, the Louria issue was more or less sidelined: Takamori was victorious.
Until he actually wasn’t.
“If I may, Prime Minister. While I can admit you and your cabinet’s decisiveness have saved us from having to again endure a cup of rice a day...”
Yukino Tadao, president of the Constitutional Democratic Party, the leading opposition party, spoke out. Touching on the food shortage, he inadvertently put his hand above his stomach as it growled. Hearing his words, the other Diet members, who have also been subjected to the rationing to satiate the demands of equality from their constituents, felt their own stomachs growl.
“...I cannot overlook Zanzibar’s potentially disastrous consequences in diplomacy moving forward.”
Yukino’s calm voice added to the resoluteness of his statement, resonating not only within the halls of the chamber but also in the minds of everyone, including the prime minister. Everyone–even those in the prime minister’s own party–were compelled to agree with him in one way or another.
“There will clearly be consequences, Takamori. ”
“I hide nothing and blame no one else. I will eat your consequences for breakfast.”
A scene of an immovable object meets an unstoppable force suddenly manifested in the halls of the Diet. Having delivered his piece–a brutally honest and frank remark not typically associated with a politician–Takamori stood proud behind his podium. However, the other man was not one to allow his opponents to languish in their victory–perceived or otherwise.
“Six months. I’ll give you at most six months before your actions yesterday will have caused us to plunge into another diplomatic crisis.”
Defiant and confident, Yukino’s words were backed by a backbone not even Takamori could hope to possess. Most especially harrowing was their substance, something which resonated within his mind. He knew that arrogant, hegemonic powers exist beyond Rodenius; should he not be more careful, Yukino’s words will become reality.
As silence fell upon the Diet Building in the wake of Yukino’s statements, the matter of Japan’s future felt all the more bleak.
Around that same time, outside the Diet building
As Takamori spoke in the Diet chamber, protests continued in full swing all across the country. Most of these protests were in response to Operation Zanzibar as the majority of the peace faction considered it ‘an attempt at the revival of Japanese militarism.’ While much of the Japanese people not involved in the protests remained undecided on the issue, a sizable counter-protest to the peace faction protests also came out in support of the Takamori cabinet.
One of the places where these two sides clashed was directly in front of the Diet building. On one side were the protesters that were against the operation. While the protest was led by ethnic Japanese proponents for a peaceful solution to the Lourian conflict, a significant portion of the protesters were East Asians who have either normalized into Japanese society or are part of the now stateless foreigners that were in Japan when they got transferred to Asherah. The protest was peaceful, only gathering together to sing along with a well-known Japanese rapper. On the other hand, counter-protesters supporting the Takamori cabinet’s decision to push through with Zanzibar gathered opposite to the peace faction protesters. They were made up of ultranationalists and led by a member of the Nippon Kaigi. They were more boisterous, and the mood among them was celebratory, with multiple protesters waving big rising sun flags as the others cheered them on. Caught in the middle and keeping the peace were two police officers from the Tokyo Metropolitan Police standing guard close to the middle of the two crowds of protesters.
“When do you think the Prime Minister will finally stop speaking?”
Tall and lanky Meguro randomly asked his partner, Sannomiya, visibly tired of the situation of having to deal with protesters for days on end.
“Beats me.”
Short and bulky Sannomiya disinterestedly replied as he picked his nose. Much to their relief and disappointment, the two crowds of protesters have been more or less cordial with the other’s presence, if not ignoring them completely. Tokyo alone was host to many of these protests, as well as countless other forms of unrest with varying degrees of violence unrelated to the Diet appearance of the Prime Minister. Due to this, only Meguro and Sannomiya were able to be present at this moment in time to monitor hundreds of protesters. As Meguro yawned, his nose was stimulated by the saccharine smell of plum. Looking to his left, he saw Sannomiya munching on a plum onigiri.
“What the fuck? How the hell do you have an onigiri?!”
“Mom sent me a lot yesterday. The rationing in the countryside is a lot less harsh than here.”
Sannomiya replied with his mouth stuffed with chewed and unchewed rice and plum.
“Fatass motherfucker. I can’t even get more than one cup of rice a day since the rationing in my district has become stricter over the past week! Mom even refuses to send shit my way!”
As Meguro ranted, Sannomiya muttered “uhuh” as he stuffed his mouth with another onigiri.
“You had another?! Gimme some man! My stomach is killing me!”
Skipping all forms of respect and diplomacy, Meguro went straight to trying to snatch the onigiri from Sannomiya’s hand, who despite his bulky build, reacted swiftly to distance the onigiri from Meguro.
“Fuck off. This is mine.”
Before the police officers could duke it out, they heard a scream from one of the protesters on the pro-Zanzibar side.
“...‘I will eat your consequences for breakfast.’ HAHAHA!!! Takamori got that bastard Yukino good! Banzai Takamori!!!”
In response, the entire crowd of pro-Zanzibar protesters cheered “BANZAI TAKAMORI!!!” As loudspeakers were brought to the scene, the two officers let go of one another as they similarly assumed the same thing: bad things were about to go down. Before they could fix their attire, the loudspeakers blared to life, filling the air around the streets of Chiyoda with the tune to Battōtai.
“WARE WA KANGUN WAGA TEKI WA...”
As the protesters sang along to the march, Meguro and Sannomiya approached them.
“Turn that off! You are disturbing the peace around here!”
Before some of the protesters could respond to them, other pro-Zanzibar protesters started hauling objects at the peace faction protesters, who also asked them to turn the music off. Seeing this, Sannomiya darted to their direction as Meguro tried to persuade the pro-Zanzibar protesters to turn the music off.
“Hey, hey! That’s against the law!”
Sannomiya’s efforts proved futile as a fight broke out between several of the protesters from both sides. Some who voluntarily tried to stop the fight got served fists in return for their good intentions, prompting them to drop all hopes of any peaceful conclusion and instead join in the brawl. As a police officer, Sannomiya stepped into the thick of the fighting.
“Dammit, stop! All of you!”
As he tried to create a divide between the two groups with his large body, he was subject to kicks and punches not intended for him, suffering some injuries. In a matter of seconds, he was overwhelmed and Meguro, having only noticed what was happening, ran to help his partner out.
“Not this again, Sannomiya...”
Picking up his comms, he radioed in for help as he ran to try his luck in pacifying the devolving situation.
“This is Meguro. Requesting back-up at...!”
Cent. Calendar 07/06/1639, Camp Higashi Chitose, Chitose, Hokkaido, Japan, 20:30
“Hello? Akiyama?”
Leaning on his chair in his office at Camp Higashi Chitose in Chitose, Hokkaido was Major General Ouchida Kazuki, commander of the 7th Division of the Japan Ground Self Defense Forces. He picked up his phone to call his friend Major General Akiyama Hayate, commander of the 2nd Division, the elements of which were deployed to Qua-Toyne in anticipation of the Lourian invasion. Hearing what had happened, Ouchida worried for his longtime friend and decided to give him a call after some time had passed so as to not bother him in his work handling the mess after Operation Zanzibar. To his relief, Akiyama’s familiar voice responded to him through the phone.
“Good timing. I was about to call it a day.”
Despite hearing that his voice was still seemingly alright, Ouchida couldn’t dispel his anxieties.
“I heard what happened.”
He then heard a faint chuckle in the background.
“Heh... So you’ve seen the report then.”
“Mmm” muttered Ouchida.
He could assume that it must have been difficult for everyone at Gim after hearing of the collateral damage. Not only did they fire the first shots from Japanese guns in a conflict since the guns of the old imperial forces went silent 7 decades earlier, their shells had also ended the lives of some civilians. The short war had concluded in extremely favorable terms for them and no one could snatch that feat from Akiyama and his 2nd Division; but in the process, they also cemented their names in Japanese history as the first to kill, both civilians and combatants, since the dreaded war their their forebears fought and died in. To the Japan of the present, an advanced society that had chosen to shake off every single thing related to waging war, this was a massive blemish. Ouchida felt his throat dry up as he struggled to imagine the burden on Akiyama’s shoulders.
“42. Forty-two confirmed identifiable remains of non-combatants.”
Akiyama paused, inhaling deeply, which could be heard by Ouchida on the other side of the line.
“And those are the identifiable ones. Goddammit. Do you get that, Ouchida? IDENTIFIABLE.”
Ouchida sank in his seat as he heard the pained sniffs of his best friend at the end of the sentence.
“My men had to sift through maimed body parts... in shifts too since none of them lasted 10 minutes without breaking down or throwing up.”
He himself felt a tear build up at the end of his left eye; he couldn’t bear hearing his own friend on the verge of breaking down.
“And yet in the end... we can only bring justice and peace to 42 people by identifying them... the rest... remains were either too charred, too small... Hell, maybe the only thing that’s left of them is the smell of blood and burnt flesh we inhaled when we were there. Fuck!”
Ouchida covered his now teary eyes with his left hand as he heard a crash on the other line.
“Those damned people that sent me shit and death threats... saying things like ‘You have brought shame to Japan!’ or ‘As expected of Japanese soldiers!’ to ‘Fucking kill yourself!’ Maybe they could help out by being here and offering some advice, right?”
Sniffing and clearing his throat with a cough, Akiyama continued.
“And yet if I spent more time confirming the civilian presence, I could have put Japanese and Qua-Toynian lives in danger... then they’d still cry out I’m a war criminal for letting Japanese citizens get killed in the line of duty.”
Hearing his friend silently mutter inaudible yet worrying sounds through the line, Ouchida finally mustered the courage to shake off his hesitations and speak up.
“You did what you thought was best and as it stands, it was the best outcome possible; you handled it well.”
Taking a deep breath and exhaling, he continued.
“Our mission is to defend Japan, its sovereignty, and its citizens. We are obligated to follow the rules and laws of war, but our duty ultimately lies with the defense of the country and its people. That is what you carried out. Japan has been kept out of the Lourian crisis and as a result no Japanese lives are lost and the country’s peace and sovereignty is preserved.”
Silence.
In the somber yet uncertain tranquility of the muteness in the line, interrupted only by background static, Ouchida waited for Akiyama’s response. After a full ten seconds without anything from him, he called out to his friend.
“You there? Akiyama?”
“Yeah. Yeah, I’m here... Sorry. Thanks for that.”
Another round of silence followed as the two division commanders tried to come up with something to disperse the unease that had built up. Akiyama spoke first.
“Uh... Thanks, Ouchida. Sorry for my outburst earlier. I’m still...”
“No, no, it’s fine. This is an off-the-record conversation between friends and not an official call. I was just concerned...”
With the tension more or less relaxed, Akiyama’s tone followed suit,
“Heh, I bet you wish you could have been chosen to deploy here. We’re gonna do some drills, and the temp here is hitting 30!”
“Unlike you, I’ve been bred for real winter ops, so I actually don’t mind! Although it doesn’t make a difference doesn’t it? It’s summer here too and it’s so hot!”
Sharing a laugh with each other–a sound that had been alien to both of them since the transfer–Ouchida and Akiyama genuinely felt that the situation would get better with time. As Ouchida thought of ending the call, one of his subordinates popped in through the door and silently mouthed, “there’s been a situation.”
“Ah. I gotta go. Shit happened again.”
“Ah, of course. I, too, gotta attend to things.”
“See you when you get back.”
“Sure.”
Dropping the phone, Ouchida stood up and put on his commander cap.
“Alright. Back to work.”