Chapter 115
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Translator: 8uhl
Chapter: 115
Chapter Title: #April Vengeance, Corona Triumph (4)
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It was a gathering where conversation flowed in fits and starts. Was it the hierarchy among seafarers? Everyone below the chief mate was remarkably taciturn. And the captain sighed frequently. The news he wanted to hear wasn't exactly uplifting. It was about the living conditions of refugees interned on the U.S. mainland.
"We're still better off, at least. We're not starving, after all."
Even as he said that, his words carried the weight of familiar despair and loneliness.
The Corona Triumph was a Japanese-registered freighter. The owner was a Japanese shipping company. But operations had been outsourced to a Philippine firm, so both the captain and crew were Filipino. Originally, she had plied the route between Japan and Australia, laden with coal.
Now, no company claimed ownership. The ship belonged to the seafarers. The captain intended to serve his homeland until his dying day. He said he probably wouldn't set foot on land again.
"There's an exile government in Indonesia. Useless as ever, before or now, but at least they're pretending to protect their refugee citizens."
Lieutenant Leon gave a wry smile. His position prevented him from speaking his mind, but his thoughts aligned with the sentiment.
Indonesia was one of the countries enduring the plague. Winter considered himself fortunate. Infection spread exponentially. Its massive population and high density could have been fatal weaknesses. But they had bought time and turned them into strengths.
Lieutenant Leon testified that Indonesia's initial response had been successful.
"They've got four million troops. Cities are turned into fortresses bristling with barbed wire and iron bars. The strongpoints are well-defended. The problem is supplies—food shortages, especially. Why do you think we came all the way here?"
The U.S. government's policy was consistent. Just as they used refugees on land as manpower, at sea they drew in foreign vessels. Food was the payment.
U.S. cities were filling with iron bars too. Even before the plague spread, it was common in areas with shaky public order. Walls and razor wire enclosed neighborhoods, with private security firms handling policing. Or residents formed their own militias.
'Gated communities, or cities with the locks bolted shut....'
Lately, TV had even started calling them fortified communities. It was trendy to turn ordinary homes into prison-like fortresses. House prices near military bases had skyrocketed. Winter viewed it positively. From experience. Looking back on past rounds, infection hadn't spread easily in such areas.
Beep- Beep-
Emergency lights flashed, and the siren wailed. The intercom lit up.
The captain answered the internal call in confusion. What was going on? Captain Kessus gave curt replies, making it hard to guess the content from one side alone. Winter watched the captain's face. Wrinkles deepened. The captain glanced at the investigator and the boy officer.
As the call ended, the FBI investigator asked,
"What is it? Some kind of emergency?"
"An emergency... in a manner of speaking. They've picked up a distress signal."
Come to the bridge for now. We might need your input depending on the situation. With that, Kessus led Joanna Gibson and Winter ahead.
Philippine Navy sentries guarded the entrance to the wheelhouse. They saluted as they entered, and the duty officer reported to the captain.
"The vessel sending the distress call is the April Pacific, an Australian-registered 134,000-ton cruise ship. She's currently 75 km to the west, heading toward San Francisco at 8 knots. At this rate, she'll come within 1 km in about 2 hours and 40 minutes."
The electronic chart showed the ship's course and projected path. The captain manipulated the console, zooming in and scrolling the map toward San Francisco. He groaned heavily.
Meeting head-on wasn't an issue. They could just avoid her. But if the passenger ship couldn't maneuver, she'd barrel right into the bay.
From news aerial shots, San Francisco Bay was packed with maritime refugees from every nation. Even though it was several times the size of Seoul. Ships jammed up to the entrance would be helpless against a collision. Eight knots wasn't fast, but the cruise ship's mass was immense.
'It could be the worst maritime disaster in history.'
The boy sensed impending tragedy.
"Any other information?"
To the captain's follow-up, the duty officer replied methodically.
"It's just an automated distress signal. No response to hailing attempts, so it seems remotely activated. Just speculation, though."
"Hmm... Suspicious. Why not shut down the engines?"
The captain stroked his chin, pondering. When unable to control a vessel, the first principle was to kill the engines. Winter thought along with him. Reasons for not doing so: three possibilities.
'A simple mistake, no time for it, or the bridge wiped out entirely.'
The last two weren't good. Onboard infection, mutiny, pirate raid. None were easy scenarios. Whether variants or pirates, depending on numbers, even Winter could be at risk.
Could he expect help from the Philippine Navy?
'No, they won't have anywhere near Jeffrey Platoon's combat power.'
Winter dismissed his own expectations. U.S. military prowess came from superb training, expensive gear, combat experience, and the creed of leaving no one behind.
Meanwhile, a ship's crew were, at the extreme, technicians. Their combat ability stemmed from equipment operation proficiency. Completely different domains. They had basic combat training, sure.
But whether they'd even have the will to engage unknown foes was doubtful.
"Have you informed the U.S. military?"
The liaison officer, Leon, asked. The duty officer nodded.
"Yes. Via satellite comms. Higgins received it. It'll go up the chain from there."
Winter read the name on the chart. Higgins was a U.S. destroyer.
The captain, after contacting the escort ship Ramon Alcaraz, ordered reduced speed.
"No point getting closer. Slow down and observe her response. Reduce to 8 knots."
The duty officer pulled the lever down. Winter sensed the subtle change in speed.
Agent Gibson asked,
"Observe her response—what does that mean?"
"Staying cautious. It could be pirates deliberately closing in."
"Gives the feeling you've dealt with this before."
"Indeed. They use a seized large vessel as bait, hiding in radar blind spots to narrow the distance. Then they ambush the escort and end it quick."
Radar ultimately detected reflected waves. If they spotted you first somehow, they could set traps like the captain described. Warships were generally smaller than ocean-going merchant vessels. Joanna Gibson nodded in understanding and asked again.
"Personal experience?"
"Experience... well, that sort of approach happened twice before, but we got prior warning from the coast guard, so we avoided it. Blind shelling was unavoidable, though. That's from the first time."
He pointed to the shattered glass across the front of the bridge, clumsily patched with duct tape. Thick enough to stop pistol rounds, maybe, but useless against cannon fire. Six gouges scarred the interior. Winter gauged the caliber. Roughly 20mm. Fire on the cusp between gun and cannon.
This time, Winter asked,
"If no response, it's likely a genuine distress call... How do you handle that?"
If pirates were behind it, they'd react somehow. Match your speed, or realizing they're made, flee. If insane or starving desperate, maybe a suicidal charge.
"Usually, we just watch. Refugees are as fickle as the weather at sea. The line between refugee and bandit blurs. I've heard stories of rescuing dying people, only for the crew to lose the ship the next day."
The captain continued with a gloomy expression and pessimistic speculation.
"But this time, I'm worried it'll turn out worse."
Winter grasped his implication immediately.
"You mean they might sink her."
"Yes. Left as is, she'll hit something. Can't ignore even low odds of U.S. losses... And with the interior a total unknown, worst case, she could be crawling with infected variants."
Leave her be, and it's tens of thousands dead. Sink her, and it's thousands. The lesser evil in place of the greatest. An unavoidable measure, perhaps. Individuals and groups alike had limits, even the world's strongest military.
The FBI investigator was cold. At least in expression. But her neck was stiffly tense.
'She's uncomfortable. More than on the helicopter.'
Winter read her easily. 「Insight」 and 「Discernment」 syncing a beat late. At reading people, at least, the system couldn't outpace the boy. The overseer personality's wish lay there too.
This was worth testing.
The duty officer received an incoming transmission.
"Orders to reduce speed further. Attack aircraft launching soon—watch for friendly fire. They'll be overhead in 20 minutes."
"I see."
Those tangled in the apocalypse calmly suppressed their accustomed gloom. Winter didn't like their faces. The outside world was full of era-weary people living that way too.
"Agent Gibson. Can you stop the attack?"
"What? I don't have that authority..."
The bureau agent was flustered by the sudden demand. But Winter persuaded again.
"It's not about authority—just make the request. Ask if they can send a helo instead of attack planes. Say to put just me on the April Pacific. The destroyer's got helos, right? Won't take long."
"Absurd! What do you think's on that ship to say such things? Reckless. As supervisor, I can't permit it. They wouldn't accept anyway."
"If you're so sure, nothing to lose, right? Your conscience will be clear later."
I tried. They refused. That kind of self-justification becomes possible. Implying a lighter guilt. Joanna bit her lip.
"Lieutenant, I'm not that cowardly. Please speak within reason."
"Then give me a chance to be cowardly. I'll hail them directly."
The FBI agent hesitated briefly. No need for explicit consent. Seizing her moment of moral qualms, Winter had already grabbed the mic. The duty officer yielded easily.
"Oh, Agent Gibson. Should I hide that you're here? Or is giving my rank and name okay? If everything's secret, that's a problem."
"...Officially all classified, but this comm won't leak into the bay. They won't understand anyway. Just don't divulge ops details. But... you're really doing this?"
"Yes. I want to live this way. Limits exist, sure."
Winter replied calmly. And double-checked.
"Any way for them to verify my identity? Doubt they'll just take my name at face value."
There was. But the agent looked deeply conflicted.
Can't stay cold before thousands of civilian deaths, huh. Not a great agent, but a good person. Without waiting, Winter called USS Higgins.
============================ Author's Notes ============================
#Q&A
Q. ssm9725: (Strategy) + 'Hitler-like figures gained support because harsh lives turned people extreme' would be great, but... reality's humans seem even more full of innocence than novels.
A. I'll review revisions including the manuscript sent to the publisher. Thank you for the good advice.
Q. 전후좌우상하: Is Winter a lieutenant or second lieutenant? It says second lieutenant above, lieutenant below.
A. Lieutenant is correct. Writer's mistake.
Q. 월하비영: What does 'recalling the journal' mean? Still don't fully get the journal part.
A. Hmm... The journal is the medium that delivers condensed flows to Winter during auto-progress. In-story, it's in first person. The journal is run by a virtual personality trained on Winter's persona.
There's a post compiling Intermissions in the work settings. Intermission covered journal stuff, so rereading might help.
Q. qoewh: @Author, I just had something good happen and got super hyped, but needed to calm down quick for something, so I read Little Prince fast. Got calm instantly. Felt like tasting a fragment of innocence.
A. Using it for that... You're an excellent reader. Enter through the pupils and experience the stillness. Overwatch is fun.