World War: Battleship Arms Dealers

"General," Salah said, looking at the burning wreckage and floating lifeboats on the sea, "Should we...save those who fell into the water?"

Li Te remained silent for a few seconds.

"Save them," he finally said. "We're here for justice, not to slaughter. Send destroyers to rescue them, and prepare the hospital ship to receive the wounded. The Dutch are human beings too."

The order was relayed. Several destroyers broke formation and began rescuing the sailors who had fallen into the water.

At 10:20 a.m., the Dutch colonial government sent a telegram of surrender.

"We accept all your terms. The arrested individuals have been released, and the military and police who fired the shots have been detained. We request a ceasefire."

Looking at the telegram, Li Te said to the communications officer: "Reply: 1. The Dutch East India Company shall immediately withdraw from Pontianak and the surrounding area and hand them over to our army. 2. All Dutch officials, military personnel, and civilians may evacuate within forty-eight hours, and our army guarantees their safety. 3. Immediately hand over all military facilities and archives in Pontianak Port. 4. These conditions apply to the entire island of Borneo."

The telegram was sent.

A long fifteen-minute wait.

At 10:35, the reply came: "Accepted. Request for more evacuation time."

"Okay," Li Te said. "Seventy-two hours. But after seventy-two hours, our military will take full control. Now, have your representatives board the ship and sign the official documents."

He put down the microphone and walked outside the bridge.

On the sea, the wreckage of the Dutch warship was still burning, black smoke rising into the sky. Further away, the outline of Pontianak Port was clearly visible. That was the former capital of Lanfang, the place that fell forty-four years ago.

"Salah," Little said softly, "send a telegram to Dubai. Just one sentence: 'The door is open, you can go home.'"

"Yes, General!"

The young man ran towards the communications room, his steps so light they seemed to be flying.

Lee Te held onto the railing, watching the land getting closer and closer.

He remembered many things. He remembered listening to his grandfather tell stories about Lanfang when he was a child, he remembered the plan he and Chen Feng made in the tent in Dubai three years ago, and he remembered Wang Bo's tearful eyes when he left the port.

Now, they've done it.

In three years, they built a world-class fleet. With a single salvo, they crushed the Dutch navy. With a single telegram, they reclaimed their lost homeland.

This is not the end, but only the beginning. Next comes landing, taking over, rebuilding, and facing the international community's reaction…

But at least the first step has been taken.

The sea breeze carries the scent of gunpowder and the ocean.

Lee Te took a deep breath and then slowly exhaled.

Go home.

2 PM, February 20th, Dubai Administration Building.

Chen Feng sat in his office, holding two telegrams in his hand.

The first message was from Li Te: "At 10:00 AM this morning, our fleet engaged the Dutch Far East Fleet off the coast of Pontianak. We sank one enemy ship, severely damaged two, and captured two. We suffered no major losses. The Dutch authorities have accepted all terms and are signing the surrender documents. The doors are open; we can go home."

The second message was relayed by Uncle Wang via the transport ship's radio: "At 11:00 AM this morning, the vanguard of the landing force entered Pontianak. The streets were deserted as everyone was there. I stood at the site of the former headquarters, the ruins still standing. Yet the villagers greeted me with tears in their eyes, saying: 'We have been waiting for you for forty-four years.' Also, my father's remains have been found, and we plan to rebury him tomorrow. Do not worry."

Chen Feng read the two telegrams three times, then carefully folded them and put them in the innermost drawer.

There were already many documents there: the first development plan from three years ago, photos of the first submarine being launched, and a report on the successful first test flight.

Now, the gatehouse has collapsed, but the people have gone back.

A knock came at the door.

"Enter."

Wang Wenwu pushed open the door and entered, his face not looking too good: "President, the British Consul Howard and the French Consul Dupont have arrived. They are in the reception room and say they want an 'urgent meeting'."

"Sooner than I expected." Chen Feng stood up, straightened his collar, and asked, "What were their expressions?"

"Howard's face was black, and DuPont... DuPont was sneer."

"Okay." Chen Feng nodded. "Tell them to wait ten minutes. Then... invite them in."

Ten minutes later, in the reception room.

Howard and DuPont sat on the sofa with tea in front of them, but neither touched it. Howard was dressed in a formal black tuxedo, with the Order of the Empire pinned to his chest, but the medals looked dull and lifeless at that moment. DuPont, on the other hand, wore a gray suit, his legs crossed, his fingers tapping lightly on his knees.

When Chen Feng walked in, the two of them stood up at the same time—not out of politeness, but out of instinct.

"Consuls, please have a seat." Chen Feng sat down in the main seat, and Uncle Wang—no, Uncle Wang wasn't there, it was another old waiter—poured tea.

"Mr. Chen," Howard said, getting straight to the point, "we've just received news that the Lanfang Navy has launched an attack on the Dutch fleet in Borneo. Is that true?"

"It's true," Chen Feng said calmly. "But it wasn't an attack; it was an operation to protect our overseas citizens. Dutch military and police shot and killed seven of our compatriots and injured more than twenty others in Pontianak early this morning. According to international law, we have the right and the obligation to protect our overseas citizens."

"Does protecting our citizens require sinking five warships?" DuPont's French was laced with sarcasm. "Does it require occupying the entire port? Does it require... 'total takeover of Borneo'?"

His last sentence was a quote, which clearly indicated that he already knew the terms Little had given to the Dutch.

"If the lives of our expatriates are threatened, any measures are necessary." Chen Feng took a sip of tea. "As for taking over Borneo... that is the homeland of the Lanfang Republic. It was illegally occupied by the Netherlands in 1876, and today we are simply taking back what belongs to us."

"Illegal occupation?" Howard's voice rose. "Mr. Chen, Dutch rule in the East Indies was recognized by the international community! All the major powers, including Britain, France, and Germany, acknowledged it as a Dutch colony!"

"So you admit you were wrong." Chen Feng put down his teacup. "Do you need me to produce evidence? We have copies of all the original treaties signed between Lanfang Company and the Dutch East India Company. Do you need me to have an international law expert examine them? Do you need me to produce the photos of how the Dutch used cannons to blast open the gates of Pontianak?"

He paused, his voice turning cold:

"Or should I remind you both, where were Britain and France in 1876? When the Dutch gunboats opened fire on unarmed civilians, did London and Paris utter a single protest? Now that we're taking back our homes, you're jumping out. Why? Because the Dutch were white? Because colonies can only be owned by European countries? Are Asians unworthy of having their own countries, unworthy of reclaiming their stolen lands?"

A barrage of questions slapped the two consuls in the face.