I Will not Fail You

The morning sun cast a muted glow over the sprawling city of Berlint, the capital of the Empire of Triesenberg. The city buzzed with activity as people hurried through the streets, soldiers marched in formation, and the distant hum of industry filled the air. Within the imposing walls of the Ministry of War, the atmosphere was no less intense.

In a grand office adorned with maps, military regalia, and portraits of past generals, General Wilhelm Krieger, head of the Empire's military high command, was engrossed in reviewing the latest strategic reports. His sharp, no-nonsense demeanor reflected years of disciplined service, and he prided himself on always being in control of every situation.

The silence of the office was broken by a knock at the door.

"Enter," General Krieger barked, not looking up from the papers on his desk.

His assistant, a young lieutenant with a crisp uniform and a nervous expression, stepped inside, holding a telegram in his hand. He approached the desk, standing at attention.

"General, we've just received a telegram," the lieutenant said with a steady voice.

General Krieger finally looked up, his piercing eyes narrowing slightly. "Where is it from?"

"Votswana, sir," the lieutenant replied, handing over the telegram.

Krieger took the telegram, his expression betraying nothing as he read the message. But as his eyes scanned the lines, his brow furrowed. The contents clearly demanded his immediate attention.

"What's this about?" he muttered to himself before turning his gaze back to the lieutenant. "When did this arrive?"

"Just moments ago, sir," the lieutenant answered promptly. "It was marked urgent."

Krieger nodded, his mind already processing the implications. He stood, his commanding presence filling the room even more as he walked to the large map of the Black Continent pinned to the wall. His fingers traced the route from Votswana to the Kingdom of Zambesi.

"Contact the communications office," Krieger ordered. "Tell them to prepare a secure line. We need to inform the Emperor and the General Staff immediately."

"Yes, sir," the lieutenant replied, snapping to attention before quickly exiting the room to carry out the order.

As the door closed behind him, General Krieger returned to his desk, the telegram still clutched in his hand. 

"An armada from a country that doesn't exist…" 

General Krieger's voice trailed off as he stared at the telegram in his hand, the words replaying in his mind. An armada from a country that doesn't exist. The thought alone was enough to send a chill down his spine. He had seen countless intelligence reports over the years, but nothing like this.

He walked back to his desk and sat down, his eyes never leaving the map of the Black Continent on the wall. His mind raced with questions. Who were these people? Where did they come from? And what was their purpose in Zambesi? The possibilities were unsettling, and the lack of information only added to the tension.

As he sat there, the door opened again, and the lieutenant returned, his steps brisk. "Sir, the secure line is ready. The Kaiser and the General Staff are awaiting your briefing."

Krieger nodded, folding the telegram carefully and placing it in his jacket pocket. "Good. Let's not keep them waiting."

The two men left the office and made their way down the long, dimly lit corridor toward the communications room.

As they entered the communications room, a small, well-secured chamber filled with telegraph machines and telephones, Krieger approached the large, ornate telephone at the center of the room. The line had already been connected, and the voices of the Emperor and his top generals could be faintly heard on the other end.

Krieger picked up the receiver and addressed them. "Your Majesty, Generals, I have received a telegram from our Governor in Votswana. The information is… troubling."

There was a brief pause before the Emperor's authoritative voice came through the line. "What is it, Krieger? Speak plainly."

"An unknown fleet has been spotted off the coast of Zambesi," Krieger began, carefully choosing his words. "A fleet belonging to a nation called Valoria. According to our sources, this Valoria has made direct contact with the local government, and the scale of their naval assets suggests a power far greater than we have previously encountered in that region. However, there is no record of any country by that name."

Silence followed his words, as if they too were stunned at the information as well.

"Are you certain of this, Krieger?" one of the generals finally asked skeptically.

"The evidence is clear," Krieger replied firmly. "Our agent in the region has provided photographic proof. We must take this seriously, Your Majesty."

"If this Valoria is real, and if they possess such a formidable fleet, they could pose a significant threat to our interests in the continent. We cannot afford to ignore this."

Krieger nodded, even though they could not see him. "Agreed, Your Majesty. I recommend we dispatch a reconnaissance team immediately to gather more intelligence. We need to understand who these people are and what their intentions might be."

"Do it," the Emperor ordered. "And keep me informed of any developments. This could change everything."

With that, the line went silent, and Krieger slowly replaced the receiver. He turned to the lieutenant, his expression grim. "Prepare the reconnaissance team. We need answers, and we need them fast."

***

Meanwhile, at the Royal Palace of Triesenberg.

Emperor Triesenberg just got off the phone and just in time, his son, Prince Theodore entered the room.

"Pardon for my sudden intrusion, Father," Prince Theodore began with a respectful tone. 

"There's no need for apologies, Theodore," the Emperor replied, gesturing for his son to enter fully. "I was about to summon you anyway."

Theodore's brow furrowed slightly as he approached his father. "What has happened, Father? You seem troubled."

Emperor Triesenberg hesitated for a moment as if considering how much to reveal. Finally, he spoke. "We've received some rather disturbing news from our territories in Votswana. An unknown fleet has been spotted off the coast of Zambesi—a fleet belonging to a nation that no one seems to have heard of before."

Theodore's eyes widened slightly in surprise. "A nation we've never heard of? That's impossible. The Empire has charted every corner of the known world."

The Emperor nodded, his expression still serious. "Indeed. And yet, this fleet exists. Our agent on the ground provided photographic evidence. The name of this nation is Valoria, and from what we can gather, they've already made contact with the local government in Zambesi."

"What do we know about their intentions?"

"Very little," his father admitted. "But their naval power is formidable, perhaps even rivaling our own. This Valoria could pose a significant threat to our interests in the region, and we cannot afford to be caught off guard."

Theodore's jaw tightened. "In that case, Father, allow me to volunteer. I will see to this matter personally."

Emperor Triesenberg regarded his son pridefully. Theodore had always been eager to prove himself and this might be a perfect job for him while his older brother is away.

"Very well, you have control." 

"Thank you, Father. I will not fail you."