- Joined
- Jun 26, 2024
doumping this Short Story here, takes place a little over 80 years in the future, but its an alternate timeline where the British Empire never fell, I like making up hypothetical geo-political tensions
The air in Washington was thick with tension, a stifling blend of summer humidity and the weight of impending conflict. In the Oval Office, the triumvirate stood around the mahogany table, their faces illuminated by the glow of a digital map projected onto the surface. Red markers outlined British strongholds in Canada, while blue icons represented American military assets, precariously close to the border.
President Spencer Cheney, his sharp features shadowed by the dim light, leaned forward. “Euphemia is young, but she isn’t naive. Her ministers will push for a show of strength. We need to decide if we’re willing to respond in kind—or back down.”
Vice President Elliot Adams, a seasoned diplomat with a voice like gravel, folded his arms. “Backing down isn’t an option. A single shell hitting Buffalo or Detroit, and the people will demand blood. We’d better have a plan ready when that happens.”
Across from him, Secretary of State Stanley Deng adjusted his glasses, his expression unreadable. “If war breaks out, it won’t be a skirmish confined to the border. The British Navy is still the largest in the world, and their Commonwealth allies won’t sit idly by. We’re looking at a global war, gentlemen.”
Cheney’s gaze swept the room, taking in the silent faces of the other cabinet members. “We’ve fought wars before. Hell, we’ve fought the British before. But this time, we’re not just fighting a monarchy—we’re fighting the idea of empire itself. Euphemia’s coronation speech made that clear enough. ‘The sun shall never set on Britannia’s glory.’ That’s not just a slogan; it’s a threat.”
The tension crackled as General Martin Reynolds, Chief of Staff of the Army, cleared his throat. “If they shell the border, we’ll respond with overwhelming force. But we need authorization to mobilize now, or we risk being caught flat-footed.”
Cheney nodded, his jaw tightening. “Then let’s make it clear. If the British Empire wants a war, we’ll give them one. But we strike on our terms—not theirs. Adams, start drafting a statement. Deng, reach out to our allies. Reynolds, get me a strategy that shows we’re ready for anything. This isn’t just about defending our borders—it’s about defending the Republic.”
Outside, the setting sun cast the Capitol in a crimson hue, as though foreshadowing the blood that might soon be spilled.