In the heart of Beijing, inside the opulent but coldly pragmatic walls of the Great Hall of the People, a private meeting was unfolding in a high-security conference room. The atmosphere was charged with tension, the air thick with unease. Around the long, polished wooden table sat the most powerful figures in China’s national security apparatus—President Xiang Wei, Minister of Defence Liang Qiang, Minister of Foreign Affairs Zhang Rui, Chief of Defence Force General Chen Jianhong, and MSS Director Sun Kai. Their faces were set, their minds occupied by the unfolding crisis in the Pacific.

  The room was silent except for the low hum of the air conditioning, until President Xiang Wei slammed his hand down on the table, shattering the stillness.

  "What the hell was that?" His voice was a mixture of fury and disbelief. His eyes locked onto Zhang Rui, who had been the one to brief him on the details of New Zealand's latest actions. "A press conference, Zhang! They accuse us of pre-emptive strikes, of unprovoked attacks, they accuse us of DUPLICITY?! You think they are going to let this go? This fool Kahu is testing us, and we’re the ones left holding the diplomatic bag!"

  Zhang Rui, normally composed, was visibly tense under the President’s piercing glare. "It is a clear escalation, Comrade President," he began carefully. "We miscalculated, and the frigate captain was sent the order too early. He was supposed to make it look like he was attacked. Now, the New Zealanders have taken our mistake and turned it into a rallying cry for the West. We’ve been framed as the aggressors, and they’re on the verge of presenting their case to the UN."

  Liang Qiang, seated beside Zhang, rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "There’s no going back now. Kahu has already taken the bait—not the one she was meant to, but taken it, nonetheless. She’s framed this as another attack on New Zealand’s sovereignty and is turning it into an international incident. She’s got the support of the United States and the UK, and once this hits the UN, we will be painted as the villains."

  President Xiang Wei stood abruptly and started pacing around the room. "This is not how we do things! We do not throw away our long-term plans over a few minutes of rash action! A captain, a ship… this isn’t an isolated incident—it’s a calculated political move and now look where we are! They have the moral high ground, again! And we’re left looking like fools!"

  General Chen Jianhong, usually calm under pressure, now leaned forward. His voice was low but forceful. "We can still recover from this, Comrade President, but we must act carefully. The world is watching. If we make another move now—whether military or otherwise—it will look like an act of war. We must ensure we do not provoke them into escalating further….”

  “WE! Must not provoke THEM!” Xiang huffed incredulously. “the sheer gall of it makes me want to vomit!”

  “Comrade President please, If New Zealand pushes this to the international stage, any response we make could trigger the full force of their alliances." The General finished

  "And what about the ultimatum?" Xiang Wei turned his sharp gaze toward Sun Kai, the MSS Director. “You assured us it would work, well Director?”

  Sun Kai, head of the Ministry of State Security, had remained silent until now. His hawk-like eyes observing the room, watching each man’s reaction, gauging the shifting mood. Finally, he cleared his throat—a subtle but commanding gesture. Tapping his fingers against the table.

  "It failed. Utterly. We warned the allied governments—told them that if they continued to support New Zealand, there would be consequences. But they didn’t even flinch. The Americans dismissed it as 'hollow posturing.' The Canadians and the British reaffirmed their commitment to the Pacific, and Canberra outright ridiculed it. Wellington, emboldened by their backing, is treating this as a moment of defiance, rather than fear. Kahu used our ultimatum as proof that we are the aggressors. It has backfired completely."

  Xiang Wei clenched his jaw. "They are playing this well. Too well. Someone must be advising them from the shadows."

  Sun Kai nodded. "It’s not just their politicians—this has the hallmarks of deep strategic coordination. We have indications that American and British intelligence were aware of our movements before the incident even took place. They didn’t just react; they were waiting for this moment. Which means our networks are compromised, or worse, there’s a mole."

  "Comrade President," Sun Kai began, his voice smooth but laced with quiet authority. "The failure of our ultimatum to the Allied governments is a greater issue than this single maritime skirmish. We threatened economic repercussions. We warned them of the consequences. And yet, not only did they refuse to yield, but they doubled down. Their intelligence agencies are already mobilising against us, and our assets in key Western nations are now under heightened surveillance. The Americans, the British, even the Australians—they're closing ranks around the New Zealanders. This is not a temporary reaction; they are preparing for long-term confrontation."

  Xiang Wei turned sharply, the colour rising visibly in his face, his frustration barely restrained. "Then fix it," he snapped. "Where are our countermeasures? Where is our influence? Have we spent decades building networks only for them to collapse at the first sign of pressure?"

  Sun Kai did not flinch. "We still have assets in place, but the situation is more fragile than we anticipated. The New Zealanders, in particular, are acting with unprecedented aggression. They are like the quiet boy in the school yard, who turns out to be the bane of bullies.”

  “Spare us the anecdotes Director!” Liang snapped.

  “Forgive me, as I was saying. Their security services are working hand in hand with the Five Eyes network. We know they are actively identifying and neutralising our operatives in Auckland and Wellington. Our best sources have already gone dark. And if Iron Lotus is exposed..." He let the thought hang.

  A grim silence followed. The implication was clear—Nathan Liu, their prized asset within the National Party, was in danger of being burned. If he was compromised, the repercussions would be severe.

  Liang Qiang finally spoke. "If that’s the case, we need to clean house. Immediately. I want our internal security to conduct a full sweep of the MSS operatives in our foreign intelligence branch. If there is a leak, we need to seal it before we make another move."

  "We cannot afford to lose him," Sun continued. "He remains one of our most valuable channels into New Zealand's political establishment. But right now, our ability to protect him is dwindling. The SIS and their allies are tightening the noose. If we pull him out, we lose a critical piece of leverage. If we leave him in, he may be forced to turn against us under pressure. The risk is growing."

  Zhang Rui exhaled sharply. "Damn the New Zealanders. We expected them to be cautious, to hesitate, to break. But instead, they’ve moved like a military power would, not a small Pacific nation. And now the Americans and Australians are reinforcing their stance. Our naval movements were meant to deter them, yet they've rallied instead of retreating. Have we underestimated them that much?"

  Liang Qiang leaned forward, his face dark. "This is why the failed ultimatum is so dangerous. It revealed our hand too soon. We expected them to fracture under pressure—economic threats, diplomatic intimidation, cyber-attacks. But instead, they've locked arms. We have underestimated their resolve. And now, our military posture appears overextended rather than dominant."

  President Xiang Wei stopped pacing, his back to the table, staring out the window at the sprawling city below. The silence in the room was thick as they waited for him to speak. Finally, he turned, his expression cold and calculating.

  "We’ve let them push us too far already. But you are right. We must not make the mistake of reacting in haste. However, this will not go unanswered. Let them make their speeches, gather their allies. They may believe they have won this round. But mark my words, New Zealand will regret this. We will wait. And when the time is right, we will strike—but it will not be a simple matter of military action. We will make them pay for this, but we will do it on our terms."

  President Xiang Wei let out a slow breath before continuing, his gaze steely. "We must correct our past mistakes. We will not escalate into open war—not yet. But we will use every tool at our disposal to ensure New Zealand and their Western allies suffer for this humiliation. No more failed ultimatums. No more visible threats." He turned back to Sun Kai. "Deploy our grey zone capabilities in full, but do not target them, target their allies and their friends, make them pariahs on the world stage. Round the clock cyber operations, financial sabotage, media influence—make it clear that defying China comes at a cost. But do it subtly. No direct linkages to us. We will erode them from within."

  Sun Kai gave a slight nod, already considering the steps ahead. "I’ll put the teams in motion immediately. We can disrupt key sectors—energy, trade logistics, even social stability if needed. The New Zealanders think they have won the narrative war, but they cannot be everywhere.”

  "Good." Xiang Wei turned back to the others. "As for our military response…”

  Liang Qiang and Zhang Rui exchanged looks of cautious approval. General Chen Jianhong, while agreeing with the approach, couldn’t mask his concern. "We should be ready for any contingency. If the West moves too quickly, we might not have the luxury of time." He said to kn one in particular.

  Xiang Wei nodded solemnly. "Prepare for all possibilities then. But do so in a way that keeps us in the driver’s seat. Escalate the invasion plans if you must. Organise them as ‘exercises’ and have everything prepared to go at a moment’s notice, but there are to be no more mistakes General. We will not be made to look petty or foolish again. Pull the carriers back to within reach of the second island chain and hold them there for now. Let the world have a sense of breathing room for a moment, but rest assured, gentlemen, we will emerge from this with our dignity intact and our objectives unchanged."

  The meeting ended with a palpable sense of tension, but the course of action was set. President Xiang Wei had made his decision. The coming days would test his resolve, and he would not be found wanting. The world was watching, and China’s next move would either affirm its power or push it into a dangerous confrontation.

  ***

  In New York, within the grand chamber of the United Nations General Assembly an emergency session was being held. The room was abuzz with murmurs as delegates from around the world settled into their seats. The crisis in the Pacific had brought tensions to a boiling point. The room was tense, every eye fixed on the central podium where UN Secretary-General António Guterres stood.

  “Ladies and gentlemen,” Guterres began, his voice carrying the weight of the moment. “We are gathered here today in light of recent hostilities in the Pacific. The events on Guadalcanal and the destruction of another New Zealand naval vessel demand an urgent response. I now invite the representative of New Zealand to speak.”

  James Fletcher, New Zealand’s UN delegate, adjusted his microphone. “Thank you, Mr. Secretary-General. Three days ago, the Royal New Zealand Navy was attacked in international waters by the People’s Liberation Army Navy. The outcome of this attack was the loss of the frigate Te Kaha and over seventy of my countrymen dead. This is the second time they have done this! If there was any doubt before, let me dispel it now—what happened in the Pacific was not a misunderstanding. It was not an accident. It was a premeditated act of aggression.”

  Fletcher paused for a moment to look around the room even though his own actions and that of his country were perfectly justified, they were still taking a big gamble with this. All in all though, it did seem like the room was mostly in his favour.

  “A missile from a Chinese warship sank Te Kaha, in an unprovoked attack, likely meant to coincide with the end of their ridiculously arrogant ultimatum, ordering us to withdraw our forces from the Pacific.” He continued. “As we speak, New Zealand and Australian forces are actively operating on Guadalcanal in support of our Canadian allies to defend the lives, the security and the very sovereignty of our Pacific neighbours against these very same aggressors. We demand accountability.”

  Across the room, Zhao Cheng, China’s ambassador, leaned forward. “New Zealand is playing a dangerous game of distortion,” he said, his voice measured but firm. "The hypocrisy in this room is astounding. What your forces call ‘defensive action’ is in fact unlawful military expansionism. The People’s Republic of China has every right to defend its strategic interests in the Pacific. Your so-called ‘evidence’ is fabricated, your accusations are lies, and your aggression will not be tolerated So far the People’s Republic of China has acted with restraint in these matters, but do not press us. The situation in the Pacific is a direct result of Western provocation, illegal military deployments, and the exploitation of regional resources. Our lawful presence in the Solomon Islands is at the invitation of its government…”

  A sharp scoff from Malakai Tuva, the representative of the Solomon Islands, cut through the air. “That’s a damned lie, and you know it, Zhao,” he snapped, the man’s patience had been worn incredibly thin of late, and he had lost all care for diplomatic niceties. “You people give with one hand, then slap with the other! You gave us loans and shiny promises, and then when we couldn’t meet your ridiculous repayment schedule, China forced our government’s hand with economic blackmail and political subversion. Your so-called security agreement was nothing but a trojan horse to militarize our islands. We did not ask for this conflict, but we will not bow to colonialist ambitions in the Pacific either—especially not to a country that treats our sovereignty like an afterthought.”

  Greg Symonds of Australia immediately followed. “New Zealand and Australia have stood shoulder to shoulder with our Pacific family for over a century,” he said. “We do not coerce. We do not intimidate. We help, we support. When a crisis happens we are always the first boots on the ground with aid! And that is exactly why we are in the Solomans right now—at the request of its people—to drive out foreign aggressors.”

  Zhao’s face darkened. “Australia and New Zealand are behaving as reckless pawns of Washington. Your so-called ‘peacekeeping mission’ is nothing more than an excuse to justify armed occupation.”

  Catherine Paterson, the U.S. delegate, narrowed her eyes. “Let us be clear about what really happened here, shall we?” She said. “The facts are very clear. One, China fired the first shot. Two, China violated international law. And now China wants to gaslight the world into believing that they are the victims in this mess. The United States has got nothing to do with any of this, you can’t rewrite reality when it suits you, Zhao.”

  David Armitage of the United Kingdom nodded sharply. “I’d like to echo my American colleague’s sentiments. This isn’t a time for diplomatic tap-dancing. The facts speak for themselves. A Chinese warship fired on and destroyed a New Zealand vessel. That is an act of war, full stop. And yet, Beijing is acting like it has the moral high ground? Unbelievable.”

  “Let’s also not forget that Canadian peacekeepers are under fire in Guadalcanal—attacked by the very forces China has ‘no control over.’” Charlotte Tremblay of Canada interjected, making air quotes with her fingers. “China claims it doesn’t want war, yet our troops are dodging Chinese made bullets, from Chinese made guns, fired by Chinese-backed insurgents. You can’t have it both ways, Ambassador Zhao.”

  The cavernous chamber buzzed with tension. The debate had been raging for what seemed like hours, but the last exchange had set the room ablaze. Delegates shifted uncomfortably in their seats, some whispering among themselves, others furiously scribbling notes.

  Before Zhao Cheng, the Chinese delegate, could formulate a response to the Canadian’s accusations, the Russian delegate, Igor Petrov, leaned back in his chair and let out a low chuckle. His expression was one of bemused condescension as he shook his head.

  “It is always fascinating to me how quickly the West cries ‘aggression’ when it suits their interests,” Petrov mused, his voice carrying through the assembly. “Your nations have invaded countries for far less, yet now you act like righteous defenders of peace? The hypocrisy is staggering.”

  Across the chamber, Oleh Morozov, the Ukrainian delegate, shot to his feet, his face red with anger. His voice cracked like a whip across the assembly hall.

  “Excuse me? Those words mean nothing from you! Look what you did to my country!”

  Petrov merely raised an eyebrow, unimpressed.

  “What we did?” he repeated mockingly. “Ukraine was always part of Russia. Your so-called sovereignty was an illusion propped up by the West. And where is your great Western support now? Where were your allies in 2028 when the war ended on our terms? They abandoned you, Morozov. Just as they will abandon the Pacific when the cost becomes too high.”

  A ripple of murmurs spread through the room.

  Morozov slammed his fist on his desk, his voice shaking with fury. “You call the murder of millions of my people ‘ending the war’? You call your forced occupation of Kyiv, of Kharkiv, of Odesa ‘peace’?” His words dripped with contempt. “There is no peace, Petrov. There is only oppression under Russian boots. And we will never stop fighting for our homeland.”

  Petrov scoffed, waving a dismissive hand. “Romantic words, but words do not change reality.”

  James Fletcher seized the moment, his voice cutting through the tension.

  “And what, exactly, is China’s excuse, then?” he demanded, turning his gaze back to Zhao Cheng, the Chinese delegate. “There is no ‘historical claim’ to the Solomans. There is no justification for launching missiles at our ships, for killing our sailors. This is naked aggression, plain and simple.”

  Greg Symonds, Australia’s delegate, followed swiftly. “The Chinese are trying to redraw the map of the Pacific, just as Russia did in Eastern Europe. And for too long the world has let them, but you underestimated us, Zhao. You thought we’d roll over.” His voice darkened. “Instead, our forces are fighting back.”

  Zhao Cheng’s face was stone, but his fingers tapped impatiently against his desk. When he finally spoke, his voice was cool and deliberate.

  “We are not here to debate history. We are here to address the reckless escalation caused by Western military forces in the Pacific. China was clear in its warnings. The Solomon Islands is within our sphere of influence.”

  “My country is not your property, Zhao!” Malakai Tuva interrupted sharply, shaking his head, his voice thick with emotion. “You do not speak for us. Your ‘security forces’ were never invited, your economic deals were never fair, and your promises were always empty. Now, because of you, my islands are a warzone! My people dying! And for what?”

  Zhao’s expression barely flickered, but a glint of irritation flashed in his eyes.

  “You allowed yourself to be manipulated by New Zealand and Australia,” he countered. “You chose war when cooperation was an option.”

  Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.

  “Don’t you mean capitulation, Ambassador?” Tuva shot back, and the room erupted in laughter.

  Charlotte Tremblay shot to her feet, her tone measured but firm. “Cooperation? Don’t make me laugh! Canada sent peacekeepers, Zhao. Not soldiers, not warships—peacekeepers. And you killed them.”

  A heavy silence settled over the room.

  Tremblay’s voice dropped to a dangerous hush. “Just yesterday, on Santa Isabel Island, your air force bombed a convoy flying the United Nations flag, don’t even bother to deny it, we have the footage. And now you dare to sit here and speak of COOPPERATION?”

  “Frankly, this is déjà vu.” The French delegate, Stefan Dubois, crossed his arms, continuing. “We saw this when Russia invaded Ukraine, when they called it ‘denazification.’ China calls this ‘security.’ It is neither.”

  “The playbook is the same.” Sinead O’Connell, Ireland’s delegate, nodded in agreement. “Bully, threaten, invade, then claim it was self-defence.” She gave a pointed look at Petrov. “It’s an insult to every nation here.”

  Tui Katoa, the Pacific Islands Forum representative, sighed, rubbing his temple. “We in the Pacific are being forced to choose between giants,” he said gravely. “The Pacific should not be the chessboard for global superpowers to play with. But at least with Australia and New Zealand, we know their dealings will be fair, we have seen nothing of the sort from China.”

  Before Zhao could respond, Catherine Paterson, the U.S. delegate, cut in again. “You’re right, Ambassador Katoa,” she said. “But let’s be clear about who started this conflict in the first place. This was not a dispute over trade. This was not about misunderstandings. China crossed a line—deliberately.”

  She turned to Zhao, her gaze ice-cold. “This ends one of two ways: either China withdraws, or we push them out. Make your choice.”

  Zhao’s lips thinned. “You overestimate your strength.”

  David Armitage, the UK’s delegate, chuckled darkly. “And you underestimate our resolve.”

  The tension in the chamber was suffocating, lines were being clearly drawn.

  “We must not let this spiral out of control.” India’s Rina Mehta stated, sighing heavily. “There is no doubt that an act of aggression has occurred, but we must also strive to prevent all-out war.”

  “You spoke of hypocrisy just now, Ambassador Petrov,” Akira Nakamura of Japan shot back. “The only hypocrisy here is China’s constant violation of sovereignty while crying foul when confronted. At this very moment, Chinese fishing fleets are bullying their way through the Philippines, through Indonesia, taking everything, leaving nothing for the peoples of those lands. The Solomon Islands belong to its people, not to Beijing.”

  Yoo Mi-yeon of South Korea nodded in agreement. “The world has seen China’s pattern of behaviour—expansionism disguised as diplomacy. It will not work this time.”

  Dubois leaned back in his chair, folding his hands on the desk in front of him. “We all know how China operates. This is just another chapter in a long book of coercion and military intimidation. What we must decide, is what comes next.”

  Fiji’s Niko Serevi rose from his seat. “We Pacific nations are not play things. We have suffered enough under foreign powers. I urge China to respect our autonomy and withdraw. It’s forces from the Pacific!”

  Katoa followed suit. “The Pacific has always been a region of peace. We will not allow it to become a battlefield for global powers.”

  Zhao Cheng stood again, his face calm but his tone icy. “You may all hurl accusations, but China will not be intimidated. We will defend our interests, and we will not apologise for ensuring the stability of the Pacific.”

  Fletcher stood tall. “Then let me make something very clear to you, Zhao. New Zealand will not be bullied. The Pacific is not yours to take. And we will not back down!”

  “Here, here!” Symonds yelled, banging his fist over and over on the desk in front of him.

  Guterres raised a hand to settle the room. “Enough. The world stands at a precipice. We must de-escalate, or we will all pay the price. This session is adjourned.”

  But as the delegates left the chamber, one thing was painfully clear: de-escalation was the last thing on anyone’s mind.

  ***

  The air in the White House Situation Room was thick with tension. The five most powerful Anglosphere nations had gathered in secrecy, away from the grandiose chambers of the United Nations, away from the endless diplomatic formalities. Here, in the heart of Washington, the conversation would be direct, the decisions final.

  President Ellen Carter sat at the head of the table, her expression unreadable. To her right was Linda Caldwell, the U.S. Secretary of Defence, and to her left, Thomas Grayson, the Secretary of State. Across from them, the leaders of America’s closest allies had taken their seats,

  Prime Ministers Miriama Kahu, John Mitchell, Richard Winslow and Thomas Bouchard, Accompanying them were their respective Ministers of Defence and Foreign Affairs, Kevin MacNielty & Derek Harper of New Zealand, Conrad Papadopoulos & Katie DuPhries of Australia, Sir Edward Bramwell & Harriet Langston of the U.K. and Brigette Leclerc & Emily Harper of Canada,

  Also present was General Caleb Hartwell, the Australian Chief of Defence Force, Air Marshal Jonathan Robson, New Zealand’s Chief of Defence, and their counterparts from the UK and Canada.

  A moment of silence stretched across the room before Kahu finally leaned forward, her gaze fixed on Carter.

  “Madam President, Ellen, the time has come. We need to discuss how we should proceed,” she said firmly. “New Zealand and Australia along with our CANZUK partners have committed ourselves to this conflict, and we have no intention of backing down. But we need clarity—from you, from Washington. Where does the United States stand on this? If this leads to full cale war, where does the U.S. stand on ANZUS?”

  There it was. The question that had been looming over the room.

  Carter exhaled slowly, glancing at Caldwell before answering. “ANZUS is still in effect. We stand by our commitments to Australia and New Zealand.”

  Kahu’s gaze hardened. “Then we need more than words.”

  Mitchell nodded, his voice sharp. “China is playing for keeps here Ellen. They believe we’ll hesitate, that we’ll rely on half-measures and economic sanctions while they carve up the Pacific.” He leaned forward. “We need to show them we are willing to strike back. The way I see it, we have two choices: we either force them to the negotiating table through overwhelming force, or we push them out militarily. There is no third option.”

  Carter tapped her fingers on the table. “Our military presence in the region is already as strong as we can make it right now. The Carl Vinson, the Abraham Lincoln and the Enterprise carrier strike groups are already in the South Pacific, with how things are going in the middle east, that really is all we have to spare. We’re moving more air and ground assets to Guam and Japan, but they will take time to position. That really is all we can do for now.”

  Sir Edward Bramwell, the UK Defence Minister, frowned. “The Queen Elizebeth has just finished her refit and catapult trials, so we are moving her group into the pacific to back up Ark Royal, along with ground forces. But that’s not enough. We need a formalised joint military command, not just parallel deployments. We cannot let the past play out again, our commands at the start of the second world war were fractured at best and Japan took advantage of that and all but wiped us out, we cannot let China have the same freedom. If we let them control the tempo, we’ll always be reacting to them.”

  General Caleb Hartwell grunted in agreement. “We need to start planning offensive operations. They’ve already made their play, and right now, they think we don’t have the stomach for a prolonged fight.”

  Thomas Bouchard, the Canadian PM, spoke next, his tone measured but firm. “Have they though, are we sure? The Russians have shown us what happens when we let an aggressor dictate the battlefield. We cannot afford another frozen conflict.”

  Brigette Leclerc, Canada’s Defence Minister, nodded. “We are prepared to send additional naval assets. We have three destroyers and two submarines that can be redeployed within weeks.”

  “Our defences are almost ready,” Miriama looked to Mitchell for conformation, when he nodded, she continued. “Our radar, sonar and missile defence network will go live within the month, and Rocket Labs is set to launch a new satellite network shortly. With our forces prepositioned in Fiji and the Solomans, we should know well ahead of time iof anything is coming.”

  Kahu turned back to Carter. “We’ve done all we can, If the United States is all in, we need to make it clear to Beijing—no more red lines that we don’t enforce. We need direct deterrence.”

  Carter met Kahu’s gaze, her jaw tightening. "Are you suggesting we strike Chinese military targets directly Miriama?"

  Mitchell leaned forward, his hands clasped. "I'm saying we need to make them bleed. Not just defend, but counterattack. Our ships bloodied their nose, the other day, but they acted with considerable restraint, the Chinese didn’t give the same consideration and a ship and many lives were lost. I say we take the bloody gloves off!”

  A heavy silence followed. The room was teetering on the edge of a decision that could alter the course of global history.

  “An overt strike would mean total war,” Grayson interjected. “Are we prepared for that? Because Beijing will not hesitate to escalate.”

  Sir Edward exhaled sharply, shaking his head. “We’ve been down this road before—this is exactly what happened with Russia. We hesitated, we calculated, we imposed sanctions while they solidified their position. And now Ukraine is partitioned, half of it under Moscow’s boot. Are we going to let the Pacific suffer the same fate?”

  "No one is proposing we jump into this blindly," MacNielty said coolly. "But the problem is, China doesn’t fear us. They believe we’re all talk, just like Moscow did. That perception needs to change."

  Carter glanced at Caldwell, who nodded grimly. "Then what are our real options?" the President asked.

  General Hartwell was the first to speak. "We have three immediate military levers Madame President: First, an expanded presence in the South Pacific—that means more warships, forward-deployed aircraft, a full integration of our forces under one command."

  "Second," added Air Marshal Robson of New Zealand, "we conduct freedom-of-navigation operations aggressively, including over flights of key trade routes, not just sailing through contested waters, but forcing China to back down. We need to start deploying assets in ways that actively disrupt their control."

  Hartwell nodded. "And third—covert actions. China has been backing militia groups and cyberattacks against our allies in the region. It’s time we start playing the same game. Undermine their grip through asymmetric means."

  Mitchell glanced at Carter. "This is where you need to decide, Ellen. We’re all in here, but we can’t do it without you. If we hold back now, we will be forced to fight on China’s terms later."

  Carter took a deep breath. "No one in this room doubts what’s at stake, or your commitment. But let me be clear—this is not a decision I take lightly. We’re already heavily committed in the middle east and the American people aren’t particularly happy about it. We need to be prepared for what comes next, and that means another full-scale mobilisation." She looked at Caldwell. "I want full strategic assessments from the Joint Chiefs. We’re not taking half-measures anymore."

  Caldwell nodded. "Understood. But make no mistake—if we go down this road, we’re committing to a confrontation that could last decades."

  Kahu leaned back, her expression unreadable. "Then we'd better make sure that we win."

  ***

  Later that afternoon, the South Lawn of the White House was lined with flags—those of the United States, Australia, New Zealand, Canada, and the United Kingdom. Five podiums stood before an assembled crowd of journalists, military personnel, and dignitaries. At the centre stood President Ellen Carter, flanked by Prime Ministers Miriama Kahu, John Mitchell, Richard Winslow, and Thomas Bouchard. Their expressions were solemn, their message unmistakable.

  The air was charged with anticipation as Carter stepped forward. The world was watching.

  "Today, we stand united at a defining moment in history. The Indo-Pacific is facing an unprecedented challenge—one that tests not only our alliances but the very principles of sovereignty, freedom, and international law. For too long, we have watched as coercion, aggression, and military intimidation have threatened the security of our allies and the stability of the region."

  "That ends today." She paused for just the briefest of moments to let that last line truly sink in.

  "The United States reaffirms its unwavering commitment to our closest allies. Effective immediately, we are fully reactivating the ANZUS Treaty in its original form. This is not just a declaration of intent—it is a binding commitment to collective security in the Pacific. Any attack on Australia or New Zealand will be considered an attack on the United States, and we will respond accordingly."

  "Furthermore, we are announcing the formation of a Joint Southern Pacific Military Command—a fully integrated force composed of the United States, Australia, New Zealand, Canada, and the United Kingdom. This command will coordinate our military presence, strategy, and operations across the region to ensure that no nation stands alone against intimidation."

  "To lead this effort, I am proud to announce that Vice Admiral Malachi Mason of the Royal New Zealand Navy will assume command of this historic joint force. Vice Admiral Mason brings decades of experience in naval warfare, coalition operations, and strategic deterrence. Under his leadership, our combined forces will stand as an unshakable wall against those who seek to destabilize our region."

  Carter paused, letting the gravity of her words settle. Then, she turned to Prime Minister Miriama Kahu, who stepped forward, her voice resolute.

  “Tēnā koutou. For generations, Aotearoa has been a nation of peace—committed to diplomacy, cooperation, and mutual respect with our neighbours. But peace is not merely the absence of war. It is a taonga, a treasure, and like all treasures, it must be guarded, nurtured, and, when necessary, defended to our dying breath.

  The Indo-Pacific is our tūrangawaewae, our home. We will not stand by and let it become a battleground for imperial ambitions. The full reactivation of ANZUS is more than just a strategic shift—it is a declaration of unity, of shared purpose. We are not just allies—we are whānau.

  And whānau stand together when challenged!”

  "New Zealand will do its part. Our naval, air, and land forces will integrate fully with the Joint Pacific Military Command. We will stand alongside our allies to uphold international law and protect those who cannot defend themselves."

  She looked toward Carter and then John Mitchell who nodded, before she stepped back.

  Mitchell’s voice carried a sharp edge of determination.

  "For years, we have watched as revisionist powers have tested our resolve. They have used devious and underhanded tactics, economic leverage, and military brinkmanship to expand their influence. They have bullied and they have misled. They believed we would hesitate—that we would falter."

  "They were wrong." He too took a moment to look at the assembled journalists and through them, the world.

  "Australia has always stood on the front lines of regional security. With the full reactivation of ANZUS and the formation of this new joint command, we will ensure that no hostile force gains control over the Indo-Pacific."

  "Make no mistake—our armed forces are ready, our people are resolute, and our commitment to our allies is absolute. We do not seek conflict, but if one is forced upon us, we will not back down."

  Mitchel looked towards Winslow, passing the metaphorical torch. Winslow took a measured breath before speaking.

  "The Indo-Pacific is not just a regional concern—it is a global one. The security of vital trade routes, the principles of sovereignty, and the stability of our allies are at stake. The United Kingdom will not stand idle while aggression threatens our partners and our interests."

  "Our Royal Navy is already en route to reinforce our allies. Our commitment to collective defence in the Pacific is not a gesture—it is a strategic necessity. The world is watching, and we are sending a clear message: aggression will not go unanswered."

  Winslow stepped back and eyed his Canadian counterpart. Bouchard stepped forward, his voice steady but firm.

  "Canada has always stood by its allies in times of crisis. Our forces have fought together in war, defended each other in peace, and above all, upheld international law. Today is no different."

  "We are committing naval, air, and special forces assets along with ground forces to this joint command. But more than that, we are committing ourselves to a long-term strategic partnership—one that ensures the Indo-Pacific remains a region governed by the rule of law, not by force."

  "We will not yield to coercion, and we will not allow history to repeat the mistakes of the past. Canada stands firm with her allies!"

  Carter stepped back up to the podium, looking across the sea of reporters and cameras.

  "Today, we draw a line in the sand. Our nations stand together, and we will not be divided. We will protect our allies. We will uphold the principles of freedom and sovereignty. And we will ensure that the Indo-Pacific remains free, open, and secure for generations to come."

  "To those who seek to challenge us: understand this—our resolve is unbreakable."

  With that, the five leaders stood shoulder to shoulder as cameras flashed and reporters shouted questions. The world had its answer. The Pacific Alliance was no longer just an idea. It was real. And it was ready.

  ***

  Somewhere in the South Pacific, the glow of a big screen monitor mounted on the wall cast flickering shadows across the dark wood panelling of the Admiral’s stateroom. The room, usually a sanctuary from the relentless tempo of operations, now felt smaller—constricted by the weight of the announcement playing out before them.

  Captain Scott Hutchinson leaned against the bulkhead, arms crossed, eyes fixed on the live press conference streaming from Washington. He let out a low whistle before turning to the man standing at his personal sink.

  "Looks like you just got promoted, boss."

  Vice Admiral Malachi Mason exhaled slowly, rubbing a hand over his face before reaching for a crisp white towel to dry his hands. He had just finished washing off the sting of salt and jet fuel from a long day overseeing air operations. The damp towel dangled in his grip as he glanced at the screen—his name spoken by none other than the President of the United States.

  "First I’ve heard of it," he muttered, tossing the towel onto a nearby chair.

  Outside, the low hum of the Tangaroa’s engines thrummed beneath them, the heartbeat of a carrier group that had barely had time to catch its breath, punctuated every so often with the soft thud of an aircraft landing or taking off.

  The past weeks had been relentless. Continuous sorties over the Solomons, pushing back the Chinese forces who had finally dispensed with the pretence of "security contractors" and disguised militias. Now, the PLA Navy had shown its hand—warships bristling off contested coasts, strike aircraft testing their resolve, shadowy commandos making landfall under the cover of night.

  And yet, despite it all, this new command—this Joint Pacific Military Command—had come completely out of the blue.

  Mason folded his arms, staring at the screen as the world absorbed the implications of Carter’s words.

  "Joint Pacific Command…" he murmured. He could already hear the questions forming in his mind. What was the actual remit? What resources would be at his disposal? Who would he report to? And most importantly—how soon before they were tested?

  A knock at the door broke his thoughts. One of his aides, Lieutenant Commander Mark Grayson, stood at attention, tablet in hand.

  "Admiral, urgent transmission from Wellington—Defence Minister MacNielty and Admiral Fitzpatrick want you on a secure call in fifteen minutes."

  Mason exhaled through his nose.

  Of course they do.

  He turned to Hutchinson, shaking his head with a wry smirk.

  "Guess I’ll find out what the hell I’ve just signed up for."

  ***

  In the secure communication suite adjacent to his stateroom, Mason stood before the comms panel, the hard blue lights of the room casting sharp shadows across his features. On the other side of the encrypted feed, the faces of Minister of Defence Kevin MacNielty and Chief of the Navy Admiral Danny Fitzpatrick filled the screens, their expressions a mix of urgency and authority.

  Mason didn’t waste time with pleasantries. “Why me, Danny? Wouldn’t an Aussie or an American be a better fit?” he asked bluntly, cutting straight to the heart of the matter.

  Fitzpatrick leaned back in his chair, eyes narrowing slightly. “Because we’re the ones who’ve been directly attacked. The powers that be want us in the lead, and you’re the most senior commander I have, so it’s you, buddy. Live with it.”

  Mason let out a sigh, frustration flickering behind his eyes. “Alright, so what the hell does this all mean then?”

  MacNielty cleared his throat, his tone a little more business like. “It means, Admiral,” he began, locking eyes with Mason through the screen, “that you’ve been given overall command of all deployed allied forces in the Southern Pacific. That includes the US 3rd Fleet.”

  Mason blinked, taking a moment to process the weight of those words. “Wait, the 3rd Fleet?” His voice dropped in disbelief. “Sorry Minister, but you have to be joking, right? You’re telling me I’m responsible for all the carriers in the region?”

  MacNielty nodded, his lips rising in a gentle smirk. “That’s right Admiral. The US Pacific Fleet is being split in two: Northern Command and Southern Command. You’re now the head of Southern Command. That includes all of our forces and the Australians, No pressure mate!”

  Mason’s gaze flicked to the side, the sheer scale of the responsibility sinking in. “Jesus…” He whistled under his breath. “That’s all the carriers in the vicinity. I guess my paperwork just increased a million fold! What about the Brits and Canadians?”

  Fitzpatrick’s jaw tightened, his voice low and resolute. “The British and Canadian ships committed to the South Pacific will fall under your command. Those in the northern Pacific? They’ll be under American command for now.”

  Mason stood still for a moment, his mind racing as he processed the enormity of the task ahead. This was no longer just a naval operation; this was a global command, a fusion of allied forces with all eyes on him. He could feel the weight of it pressing on his shoulders. The success or failure of this operation would be on his hands.

  He looked back at the screen, meeting their gazes. “And the Americans agreed to this?” He asked.

  “They suggested it.” Fitzpatrick replied. “The orders are being issued now, I would expect to hear from your fellow group commanders very shortly.”

  “And I have no say in this?” Mason asked, his voice edged with exasperation.

  “None.” MacNielty’s reply was blunt. Though not unfriendly, his tone carrying the definitive weight of a door slamming shut.

  Mason exhaled sharply, shaking his head, but before he could voice another protest, Fitzpatrick cut in with a grin.

  “Oh, and by the way, you’re getting a new toy.” There was a distinct note of amusement in his voice now.

  Mason’s eyes narrowed. “What new toy?”

  “Well,” Fitzpatrick said, clearly enjoying himself, “we’re playing with the big boys now, so we need big boy toys. Achilles is finally ready. She’s sailing out to you now.”

  Mason’s breath hitched for a moment. Achilles. If they were sending him one of New Zealand’s only two brand-new cruisers, things were getting serious. Very serious.

  The Achilles-class cruisers were the pride of the Royal New Zealand Navy—a class of warships built by the South Koreans, derived from the formidable Sejong the Great-class, but stretched slightly longer and packed with even heavier firepower. These weren’t just advanced warships; they were 13,500 tonnes of a floating fortress, designed to dominate any naval battlefield.

  Built entirely around the AEGIS combat system, Achilles carried twin 500kW HELIOS laser mounts, giving her a cutting-edge directed-energy weapon capability. Her arsenal was nothing short of devastating—144 Vertical Launch System (VLS) cells, 32 Naval Strike Missile tubes, and a suite of other high and low-tech weapons designed for both offense and defence. She was a monster in the water, a warship that lived up to her legendary namesake.

  Mason ran a hand through his hair, exhaling slowly. The last Achilles had carved her name into history at the Battle of the River Plate, and now, nearly a century later, her successor was steaming toward him, ready for war.

  A new command. A new fleet. And now, a new ship.

  Yeah. Things were about to get very interesting. Mason thought to himself as the transmission ended and the screen went dead.