Summoning America

Chapter 186: Out of Options (2)

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Morric nodded curtly. "Aye, sir. Initiating contact now."

As Morric worked to establish the connection, Venstrom felt a heavy weight settle in his chest. The very thought of reaching out to the enemy, of admitting that the Gra Valkas Empire might not be able to win this war, was like a bitter poison on his tongue. He had spent his entire career believing in the superiority of Gra Valkan military might, in the inevitability of their victory. And now, here he was, preparing to ask for terms.

But what choice did he have? The Americans had proven themselves to be a far more formidable adversary than anyone had anticipated. Their technology, their tactics, their sheer firepower... it was all beyond anything the Gra Valkans had ever faced before. If he continued to press the attack, he would be sending his men to their deaths, and for what? A chance at glory? A place in the history books?

No, he had a duty to his fleet, to the brave men who had fought and bled under his command. If there was a chance to save even a fraction of them, to spare them the horrors of a war they could not win, then he had to take it – even if it meant swallowing his pride and facing the scorn of his superiors.

"Admiral, I have the EDI forces on the line," Morric reported.

Venstrom took a deep breath, steeling himself for the conversation ahead. He picked up the handset, his grip tight enough to turn his knuckles white. "This is Fleet Admiral Venstrom of the Gra Valkan Second Conquest Fleet, requesting a parley with your commanding officer."

There was a crackle of static, then a gruff voice came over the line. "Ach, Admiral Venstrom. This is Admiral Flintarm of the Mykal Defense Fleet. Ye've got some nerve, callin' for a parley after the poundin' ye've given us."

Venstrom closed his eyes for a moment, the weight of his decision bearing down on him like a physical force. "Admiral Flintarm, I understand your skepticism. But the situation has changed. We... I am prepared to discuss terms for a ceasefire and possible negotiations with the American fleet commander."

There was a pause, shorter this time, but still heavy with meaning. When Flintarm spoke again, his voice had lost some of its edge. "Is that so? And what brought about this change of heart, if ye don't mind me askin'?"

Venstrom's jaw clenched, a flash of anger rising in his chest. But he pushed it down, knowing that Flintarm's question was fair. Even if it was out of mockery or sarcasm, he just had to suck it up for the sake of his men. "Recent events have made it clear that continuing this conflict will only lead to more unnecessary loss of life. I am seeking a way to end it, to find a resolution that might spare both our forces further bloodshed."

Flintarm was silent for a moment, and Venstrom could almost hear the gears turning in the man's head. "Aye, I can understand that. We've all seen our share of loss in this war. If ye're serious about a ceasefire, about negotiatin' with the Americans, then I'm willin' to pass along yer message."

Venstrom felt a flicker of hope in his chest, even as the weight of his decision continued to bear down on him. "I am serious, Admiral Flintarm. I am prepared to order my forces to stand down, effective immediately. We will cease all offensive operations and maintain our current positions pending the outcome of negotiations."