Timelines: What if Spain Failed to Control the World?

Rensslaer said:

Definitely congratulations on 10,000 views!

That's one of those milestones that mark the very top AARs!

Rensslaer

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Thanks XD Now to get off my vacationing butt and get an update done !

April 14, 1582

Ever since missionary work had begun along the Californian coast, San Diego stood as the frontier base camp for the entire network of colonial settlements from there to San Francisco and even southward along the peninsula of Old California. The city itself was a natural choice for a settlement where an outstretching of land, not dissimilar to a smaller version of San Francisco, closed within it a bay.

It was in this bay that most ferries traveling both north and south made their home port and unloaded their goods for transport to Mexico City, Vera Cruz, or Corpus Christi to sail back to Spain proper.

It would be six more years until Pope Sixtus would Canonize Saint Didacus for whom the city was named after, but already the rapid growth of immigration and commerce seemed like a blessing attributed to the name.

For those aboard the ferry which flew the ensign of the Lord Chancellor, the sight of the concave peninsula of the port of San Diego drew happy smiles. Warships and frigates stationed at the naval base had sailed on to greet the incoming guests and saluted the little vessel with as much courtesy one might see for a flagship.

The Cardinal, dressed in his choir dress, watched happily as this leg of their journey came to a successful close. For the most part, it had been uneventful ever since the encounter with the merchant-warship. Having taken whatever goods they could from the vessel, they had burnt and sunk her since speed was more important than immediate conquest.

General Grubby, along with their ferry Captain, and his squad of Grunts and Raiders gave the proper return salutes to the other vessels. The other Lions, meanwhile, were busy preparing to disembark as soon as possible.

Amidst all the fanfare, Akanishi stood nervously on the edge of Antonio’s bed. The nobleman was once again in a tired sleep. To Akanishi, both tired almost sleepless, San Diego was not the safe haven he had hoped to see. It meant departure; it meant the last stop of his companionship with the others—he would have to return to Japan while the rest head to Madrid. It would be his last chance to be this close to Don Antonio.

The oil in the lamp next to the bed fizzled furiously as it was consumed by the raging fire. The confused light beamed hasty shadowplay onto the face of Akanishi and turning Antonio’s horizontal face into constant scenery of mountains at sunset. In this most opportune of solitude, he had no choice.

Looking quickly behind him with desperate ferocity before staring anxiously towards Antonio’s face, Akanishi-san—whose heart already ached of the constant tribulations of this latter half of his life—extracted the metal spike from his pocket and held it with trembling, sweaty hands.

Akanishi could feel the compression of his flesh against the silvery metal as his blood momentarily expanded and contracted his grip against the object with every loud thump of his heart. That man breathed sharply through his teeth and, with a trembling hook formed from his forefinger, he pulled Antonio’s sleeve up enough to expose his wrist.

As his face limboed between light and darkness, each flash of the chaotic flame’s luminescence revealed the pearls of sweat forming on Akanishi’s forehead. Closing his eyes momentarily and breathing in heavily through his nose, Akanishi quickly grabbed Antonio’s forearm and moved the needle to the now exposed vein.

His piercing hand halted halfway towards the target. Not by some internal volition, but his own wrist was now detained. Akanishi looked at the intruding fist grasping his wrist and his heart felt like it rammed against his spine with a tremendous convulsion. He followed that hand along its length of arm and then finally to the face—Antonio was staring at him.

Before his breath caught up with his surprise, a black cloth encircled his vision. A terrible force compressed his neck as his eyes were blinded by stifling ebony fabric. He cried out from behind the uninvited cowl and dropped that decorative instrument from his hand. If he was not struggling to breathe, he may have noticed that there was no sound of metal against floor—Jakob had caught the object before it reached the ground.

“Get him to the brig,” Antonio said sitting up and he blinked as the white powder started to fall away from his face revealing warm cheeks.

Sweet, who had been hiding behind the doorway previously, gave no acknowledgement but simply moved the nearly garroted and blinded Akanishi out of the room. Grubby waited with his grunts to accompany the new prisoner.

“How did you know?” Jakob asked as he brought the needle like instrument to a nearby jar.

“I recognized that object,” Antonio replied as he stood up and followed Jakob to the research table. Both looked down at the ornamental weapon. “It’s a Ming hair pin. I’ve known many of their spies to use it as poisoning weapons. I saw it sticking out of Akanishi’s pocket when he was reunited with his son. I kept trying to tell everyone but I was too weak to say anything.”

“I’ll have the tip analyzed,” Jakob responded coolly.

Antonio gave his friend a tap on the shoulder with his palm before stepping out towards the doorway and nearly running into Isabella. That woman started a little at the sight. With the paling powder still burying Antonio’s handsome features, she might have thought she had seen a ghost.

“Did you try putting on that makeup yourself?” she quipped quickly as if to mask her surprise. Her teasing grin was adroitly superimposed on the relieved smile she had underneath.

“I was trying to look dead, not glamorous,” Antonio replied with not as much flair as usual; indeed, his lips were a bit more fluid as he attempted to find the right smile to express his gladness at seeing her. In his quest, he inadvertently stopped breathing for some strange reason.

“Well,” Isabella began again locking her welcoming sky blues with his gaze, “It’s good to see you up and about again.”

She handed Antonio a few pieces of paper before walking past him evenly down the hall, “Those are some dispatches Cardinal DeWitt wanted to give you; i’ll go interrogate the prisoner.”

Antonio held the pieces of paper lightly. At that moment he had found the right expression for his silly smile. It must have been the scent in the air that just passed him by.


There was no real brig on that little ferry boat, but the necessity of having one became apparent after they had taken on board half a dozen prisoners from the Ming ship that had attacked them when they had sailed out of port. Usually used as a compartment for extra supplies of dried fish or fresh water, one of the cargo holds was converted into a makeshift prison. Guarded and locked at all times by two of the Lions, most of the prisoners were kept in the dimness of unlighted wood and briny tar.

Akanishi was spared this hellish area temporarily. Instead, he was taken to Sweet’s Spartan quarters by orders of Dona Isabella. Aside from these two masters of espionage, two other Lions were posted by the doors. Cardinal DeWitt came a moment later and almost uncomfortably consumed a quarter of the room’s space in his large stature.

As for Akanishi himself, being tied with arms behind his back and legs together he could merely recycle his sweat moistened breath inside that blinding cowl. He had finally stopped shivering and was seated on a stool near the center of the room. Sweet leaned against the shaded wall to Akanishi’s back and Isabella sat with legs crossed on a chair in front of the prisoner.

With a nod from Isabella, the black cloth over Akanishi’s face was removed and that man’s blurring vision met the inquisitive gaze of that woman.

“Who are you working for,” was the immediate question.

Akanishi’s eyes nearly watered as his head made a crazed convulsion left and right. “I’m not working for anyone!” he cried out, “this is all a mistake!”

“A mistake?” Isabella pounced on the word immediately. “I think the only mistake here was to save your pitiful little life. How long have you been working for the Ming?!”

“I told you!” he cried out again the trembling returning to his whole frame as he leaned forward emphatically, “I’m not working for anyone, this is all a mistake!”

The use of that word again seemed to force Isabella’s hand into a fist.

“Then how do you explain you trying to harm Antonio with that weapon?” she asked as objectively as she could. Sweet had briefed both her and the Cardinal just moments ago as to what transpired.

“That wasn’t a weapon!” he nearly shouted bringing his head so far forward it was like he was making a seated bow. “It was…”

At that, he stopped suddenly and his eyes widened in a queer inner anguish. Isabella caught on immediately.

“What was it then?” she asked quickly.

The man crept himself back to sitting up on the stool. It was a slow almost creaky ascent as if watching a fallen tree pulling itself back up with its roots. But as his back straightened his chin remained close to his chest.

“What was it?” Isabella repeated a hint of frustration punctuating her query.

“It was my wife’s,” Akanishi let out in a whispery breath.

“Impossible,” the Cardinal interjected dominating the room with his heavy voice. “We know that weapon of yours is a Ming instrument, don’t give us lies.”

Even with the great voice of Cardinal DeWitt, Akanishi did not flinch. “You’re right,” Akanishi finally replied and allowed a satisfied grin to come across the Cardinal’s face.

“After I tried to assassinate Sio-Pan,” Akanishi explained his voice still low as he relived the horrid scenes in his head, “and he captured me. He said that his master Ming gave him some trinkets and presents as a reward for all his hard work in San Francisco. One of those things was that needle. His master also told him the story of some of those trinkets including how that needle was a gift for a slave woman he… he kept to entertain his guests.”

Akanishi’s voice cracked and his body seemed to slump onto the stool. It was as if someone had extracted all the bones from that man’s body. In that sad heap, he heaved a terrible breath and began to cry.

In his furious expression of emotion he couldn’t stop talking. He was breaking now into his native Japanese.

“When I told Sio-Pan why I wanted to kill him, he recognized who the needle belonged to and told me that my wife was not killed but taken… taken away.”

Suddenly, Akanishi’s face shot upward and faced Isabella. The bloodshot eyes and a face moistened by mucus and tears caught her a little by surprise. “But I said I didn’t believe him!” Akanishi squealed out. “But he let me smell it… he let me smell it… and it was true.”

As he talked, the wrinkles on his face seemed to squeeze water from his body and pour it out through his eyes. “It was the smell of my wife and I knew then that she was still alive—”

Akanishi’s head returned to being parallel to the floor as mountains of breath seemed to ripple through his body before escaping in panting cries like a broken fish kite jostling in a harsh storm. The others in the room could only look on. The Cardinal could not understand Japanese but was instead captivated by the overflow of anguish. Isabella seemed to ruffle her brow to this strange tale while only Sweet in the rear hid his confusion of the situation in the neutral shadow of his side of the room.

A tapping by the door drew Isabella’s attention. Jakob had come and was motioning with his head to join him in the hall.

“What is it, Jakob?” Isabella asked as she excused herself from the room temporarily.

“I’ve analyzed the coating on the edge of the needle,” he replied holding up the offending piece to Isabella’s view.

“And?” the woman asked almost impatiently.

“It isn’t poison,” Jakob said with painstaking objectivity, “it was the antidote I had created to cure Antonio. He must have dipped the needle in my flask after I synthesized it.”

Isabella stared intently at Jakob. “This doesn’t make any sense,” she admitted before looking down to the silvery steel once more.

“Thank you, Jakob,” she said after a second pause and walked back into the room.

“What were you really doing in Antonio’s Room just now,” was the first question from Isabella. This time her voice was calmer, attempting to coax Akanishi from the depths of agony he was drowning himself in.

All in the room let a second or two pass before Akanishi raised his head slowly once more, “I was trying to wake Antonio up,” he said, “I wanted to tell him about my wife…”

“Then why all the secrecy, and why tell only him?” Isabella asked immediately.

Akanishi seemed to falter in his expression as if something unfortunate was about to happen before he said, “Because he was the only one I could trust… I didn’t know who the real spy was.”

At that, Isabella smiled as the pieces of the puzzle began to fit together. She leaned over almost affectionately towards the whimpering man and explained, “There was no real spy. We intentionally let ourselves be found. The merchant vessel that attacked us couldn’t be spotted by the scout boats we sent out so we thought we’d lure it to us. You don’t have to worry about a spy—”

“You’re wrong!” Akanishi gasped out and straightening up. His surprise made his face look like a flounder gasping for breath. He started to talk again but this time in his best Spanish. “I know there’s a spy! I don’t know if it was a man or a woman, but they were there at Little China before you all came telling ‘Ming’ and ‘Ginji’ everything! I overheard them talking about how you all are coming and what kind of danger to expect! They were European too not Japanese or Chinese.”

Isabella was once again plunged into confusion. “And you’re sure this spy is still on the boat?” she asked.

“Of course! Who else would have been poisoning Don Antonio?!” Akanishi replied with frustration like that of a father scolding his child on something they should already have known.

Isabella exchanged glances with Sweet and then with Cardinal DeWitt before looking back to the anxious Akanishi. “What can you tell us about the spy to help us identify them?” she asked almost urgently.

Akanishi shook his head ruefully, “that’s the problem,” he said, “I don’t know much! All I know was that they were wearing a strange uniform and that they were Buddhist.”

“Buddhist?” Isabella interjected, “how do you know that?”

“I saw it! The Ura Manji emblazoned on the uniform’s sleeve.”

“Ura Manji?”

“Yes…” Akanishi looked down and to the right attempting to think of the right words to describe it in Spanish. “It is the Buddhist symbol for strength and intelligence; it looks like your Christian cross but bent at the ends to the right.”


Captain DeWitt waited patiently with the rest of his Lion Squad inside of the elevator. The rest of his men as well as some volunteers he recruited from a Dutch firm working for the Duke had effectively surrounded the building from the outside as well as this marble basement. Two of his teams would enter through the side staircases that lead to the east and west sides of that underground marble chamber while his personal group would enter through the south side from the elevator covering all means of escape.

He already knew that the Ming and their head operative a man by the name of Tseng were outside somewhere to pick up Marcus and her two bodyguards once they attempted to retrieve the keys. The information he had on the light accompaniment that Marcus brought with her was little—which made his job more dangerous. All he knew was that the red headed of the two bodyguards seemed to be based in Reno in the province of Nevada. The other—with the bald head— went by the nickname of Rudo which seemed like a Spanishization of his real name.

This was not the first time Captain DeWitt was sent on assignment against this particular team of people—although it was his first encounter with them protecting someone like Marcus Councilman. At first intelligence reports had indicated them as radical Islamic Turks and remnants of the Great War generation, but the limited intelligence that the Lions received suggested they were simply a high end mercenary group.

Even then it was sketchy; most of the information gathered was thanks to a defector from their group who went by the name of Vincent. Although the local police suspected this former mercenary to be behind the Valentine’s Day Shooting because of his abilities with firearms, any small snippet of knowledge obtained added to Captain DeWitt’s advantage.

It was with these thoughts that the leader of the Lions waited patiently inside the cold steel frame of the elevator. His patience was duly awarded as Rodrigo’s voice echoed through his earpiece.

“Captain DeWitt, engage,” came the voice.

In the official language of the Lions, Captain DeWitt mobilized his team to spring the trap Rodrigo had set for Ms. Councilman: “LOS LOS LOS!” The only doubt he had about the success of the operation was the unknown position of the final member of that opposing team—a girl who went by the name of Elena.


“I’ve finished my analysis, Father,” Professor Cole said huffing a little from the long walk from his laboratory to the nearest telephone line.

“What did you find out?” came the anxious voice from the small microphone.

“Well, first I tested the sample you gave me from Mecca compared to the samples we have in the museum. The style and authenticity is a match although the carbon dating lists the sample you gave me as at least three hundred and fifty years older…”

Professor Cole expected as much of a pause at the revelation as he was ready to give but instead was greeted with a quick follow up question.

“And the second sample?”

“The California sample you mean? One moment.”

Professor Cole put down the phone just long enough to gather some files piled haphazardly on the other table before picking the phone up again.

“Yes, from what I can tell it’s also authentic,” began the professor, “same make and style but this one’s similarly just as old…”

This time after both results were read, he was received by the ponderous silence he had expected from such incredulous results.

“And you say this was the one found in the ferry boat museum in the Pacific?” Professor Cole asked to break the eerie quiet.

“Yes,” was the soft reply from the priest on the other side of the line, “It was stashed away in a secret compartment.”

For Professor Cole this simply could not make sense. Not only were such artifacts three hundred and fifty years older than their regular counterparts, but two similar pieces of clothing were found half a world away from each other.

“Thank you Professor, now what about the final sample?”

Professor Cole seemed to nod even though no one except the Lions on staff to guard his home could see him do so.

“I have the preliminary results in but we’ll need further testing. As far as I can tell, the sample from the excavation in Guangzhou is a similar match but its a few years younger than the other two.”

“Alright, thank you Professor, I’ll be calling you tomorrow at around six in the morning for the final results.”

“Why so early?” was the curious question—even though everything else had been just as strange lately.

“I apologize, Professor,” Father Francis Xavier said, “It’s the time different from Hong Kong.”

Chapter XXVIII: Voyage to China (coming soon)

stnylan said:

Now that was an interesting scene upon the boat. A bit of mistaken identity, a sort of reverse double-cross. Nicely built up to as well.

Antonio is a tricksy bastard isn't he

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Thanks ! It was quite a twist to think up of I have to admit , took me a few days to think how to slither my way through that one !

Myth said:

uh-oh

anyway, well done. so Akanishi wasn't a/the spy after all! as for that Buddhist...the symbol they have sounds suspiciously like a swastika...

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XD what can I say , Freudian Slip XD . Suspicously ! And we do know it's illegal to show it in the German province as Professor Cole works on it .

Grubnessul: Oh yes it'll be a great threat indeed ! I'm glad you're enjoying the twists ! I hope they were unexpected XD

Kleomenes: Double thanks ! Good luck with your materialiser and your AAR dreams ! Let me know when you start it Don't forget to read around for some tips on how to start AARs etc and if you need anything feel free to ask again .

Panzerkardinal said:

Haven't posted a reply in a bit.. been a bad storm knocking my internet out periodically..

Last few updates have been great ! I was laughing at the Cardinal's Scorpion impersonation with the spear and the " Get over here ! " The final fantasy name references were also a nice touch.

A cross with bent ends? Uh oh.. Will we see the advent of the thousand year reich ? Continue to tune in ! dun dun dun...

Oh, And congrats on the 10,000 mark ! I'm not suprised by the popularity. After all, it IS good work.

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Hey buddy good to see you around ! Haha i'm glad you caught onto the references XD As for the Thousand Year Reich , hmm , sounds a bit dangerous don't you think ? Thanks for your continued support and I hope to see you around soon !

Avernite said:

Haven't read all the cmments, but Renss' link in his AAR prompted me to read this, and...

It is scary what amount of cliches and game references (Carmen SanDiego was especially fun ) you manage to fit in without making a boring story

And I already want you to finish the story already

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Thanks it's been fun to put in little snippets here and there . I would have thought you would have mentioned the Werewolf reference most of all !

Turin the Mad said:

Great read canonized, kudos. I hope you can see this to its conclusion.

Great ideas on game play tucked in the narrative by the way ^_^ ...

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Thanks ! I'm glad you noticed those tucked in there ! Glad to have you and all the newer people on board it's a great joy to see you folks and welcome !

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