Blackstone Code
Chapter 337:

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Under Lynch's influence, Mr. Truman's perspective had undergone a seismic shift.

Previously, he had prioritized establishing diplomatic ties with Nagalier. Beyond the resources and strategic advantages Lynch had outlined, Truman's primary goal was to surround the Baylor Federation with allies. In an uncertain world, where every step could lead either to solid ground or a quagmire, alliances provided a buffer—a shared burden, a collective strength.

But now, his stance had changed. Though reluctant to admit it, the truth was undeniable: he, a seasoned adult, had been swayed by a younger man's words.

Lynch's arguments had struck at Truman's most vulnerable point, resonating deeply within him. They stirred something primal, igniting both fear and exhilaration. Every soldier dreams of etching their legacy in the annals of glorious war. Every patriot yearns to defend their nation's honor with iron and blood. And every leader seeks to secure their country's prosperity, even at great personal cost.

For Truman, a military man at heart, Lynch's rhetoric was intoxicating. Convinced himself, Truman resolved to persuade the President. This time, however, he didn't go alone. He brought reinforcements: the head of operations for the National Security Council and the Deputy Minister of Defense. Together, they entered the President's office.

By now, everyone understood the nature of their likely adversary—the Pretton pirate group. Intelligence suggested they were puppets propped up by Gevra's Royal Navy. Certain acts of aggression, like attacking enemy merchant ships, fishing vessels, or even cruise liners, were too politically sensitive for nations to undertake directly. Such actions would invite public outrage and international condemnation.

Gevra, a monarchy ruled by an emperor who cherished his reputation, preferred outsourcing its dirty work. It was a tactic beloved by politicians worldwide: plausible deniability.

If this anti-pirate campaign escalated into open conflict, it could thrust the Federation into uncharted territory.

Meanwhile, the long-dormant Conservative Party had reemerged, launching scathing attacks on the Progressives in the media. They argued that initiating military action on behalf of Nagalier—a nation with no tangible ties to the Federation—would tarnish the Federation's hard-earned positive image on the global stage.

They stopped short of revealing the possibility that the Pretton pirates might be a front for Gevra's navy. Such information would sow panic among the populace, destabilizing society—a scenario contrary to their interests. Instead, they framed their opposition as pragmatic, claiming the proposed alliance with Nagalier ran counter to the Federation's current needs.

To bolster their case, they posed provocative questions: Why help others develop when we could keep those opportunities for ourselves?

In times of uncertainty, conflicting ideologies naturally emerge. Some citizens aligned themselves with the Conservatives, drawn to their message. Spontaneous protests disrupted ongoing diplomatic efforts. Demonstrators gathered outside the Presidential Palace, chanting slogans like "Take care of our own first!"—a refrain quintessentially Conservative.

Their rallying cry urged the government to redirect resources earmarked for Nagalier back into domestic projects.

While the President's situation was improving, new challenges loomed. Torn between competing priorities, he found himself at a crossroads when Truman arrived with his two companions.

"Are you aware of what happened yesterday?" After introducing his entourage, Truman posed the question.

The President nodded. "Yes, you briefed me last night."

Following the events, Truman had recounted the negotiation details and their coordinated performance with Lynch, preparing the President for what was to come. But deeper insights remained unsaid until now, when Truman felt confident enough—with the support of these two trusted advisors—to present his case fully.

Truman glanced at his colleagues before addressing the President. "Before coming here, we signed confidentiality agreements. What I'm about to say is known only to us three—and now, you."

The President's expression shifted, registering appropriate surprise. Confidentiality agreements were rare among high-ranking officials, reserved for matters with potentially unpredictable and monumental consequences. His demeanor immediately sobered, growing grave.

"Yesterday, I didn't share everything with you. Later, I spoke with Lynch. He believes what we truly need isn't allies—it's adversaries."

The President's brow furrowed. "Adversaries?"

It was a textbook interrogative, delivered softly to preserve its original intent.

"Adversaries," Truman repeated firmly. "We create them, then defeat them. Through war, we secure everything the Federation requires for growth. We restore national confidence and unify our people. Then, emboldened, we conquer the next foe."

The President shook his head slightly. "This… is terrifying."

He didn't elaborate, but everyone in the room understood. This was imperial hegemony—a doctrine of expansion through conquest, starkly contrasting the Federation's professed ideals of freedom and peace.

Yet, no one truly believed such ambitions were inherently wrong. Every leader, every ruling class, dreamed of extending their nation's influence across the globe. Greater dominion meant greater power, sweeter authority. But aspirations weren't achieved through words alone; they required matching capability.

Imperialism, in its traditional form, had fallen out of vogue after the World War reshaped global dynamics, including the structure of ruling classes. Conquest no longer necessitated annexation; subtler methods sufficed. Still, the essence remained unchanged—hegemony persisted, merely cloaked in new guises.

Truman showed no trace of guilt. Perhaps he should have felt remorse, yet his face glowed with an almost divine fervor.

"Mr. President, our impending war with the pirate group stems from our hunger for victory. We need a resounding triumph to galvanize the Federation. Defeating Pretton will secure a stable, long-term source of raw materials."

"But now, Nagalier seems to have struck a deal with Pretton. They're considering abandoning diplomatic relations with us. If they do, we'll face significant challenges."

"First, the Conservatives may seize the opportunity. They've already begun attacking your policies in the media. Our inability to make swift progress internationally has cast a shadow over your administration."

Truthfully, the President and his cabinet had performed admirably. But the Baylor Federation wasn't here to share the pie—it came to claim its slice. Naturally, this made it unpopular, yielding few benefits or orders.

Moreover, opening limited free markets had allowed foreign goods to flood in, particularly devastating the three southern free trade zones. Cheap, high-quality imports had obliterated local industries. Small merchants shipped these goods nationwide, squeezing domestic competitors and delivering a knockout blow to struggling enterprises.

These issues simmered beneath the surface, swaying undecided individuals toward the Conservatives. As they put it, there were no visible benefits—only more factory closures. If forging alliances led to economic collapse, why not retreat into isolationism?

"Second, the failure of this diplomatic effort will breed deep disillusionment among the populace. Confidence will wane, exacerbating social tensions and possibly sparking unrest."

"Third, if we allow a backward, insignificant nation like the Nagalier United Kingdom to humiliate us diplomatically, our international standing will plummet. People don't respect peaceful fools—they fear those wielding the scythe."

"Gevra's prominence today isn't due to their love of peace or aid to smaller nations. It's because their warships patrol every corner of the globe."

"Mr. President, that's why I'm here. If this diplomatic mission falls short of expectations, I request authorization to wage this war."

The President's brows knitted tightly. He waved a hand dismissively. "Let me process this. Are you certain you just said ‘war'? I thought we were dealing with mere pirates."

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