June 26th, 1938. Port City of Maputo, Kingdom of Zambesi.
The waters surrounding the Port City of Maputo rippled as the massive shadow of the Valorian Navy's Expeditionary Fleet came into view. Ships as far as the eye could see, stretching across the horizon, filled the bay like a steel armada.
Towering aircraft carriers and battleships, sleek destroyers, and the massive amphibious assault ship anchored closer to shore, casting an imposing silhouette over the city's skyline.
The people of Maputo gathered at the waterfront, watching in awe as the fleet positioned itself. Cheers erupted from the crowd. These were not enemies; they were the much-anticipated saviors who would protect them from the looming threat of the Matalebe forces.
The whine of engines filled the air as the massive amphibious assault ship lowered its ramp, revealing rows of landing craft bobbing in the water. From the shoreline, the citizens of Zambesi saw the well-coordinated launch of these crafts, each filled with soldiers clad in the distinctive dark green uniforms of the Valorian military, their rifles gleaming in the sunlight.
Behind them, tanks rolled forward, their heavy treads clanking against the steel decks as they prepared to disembark.
The sight was enough to calm the once-uneasy nerves of the citizens. They had feared that the Matalebe invaders would lay siege to their city, but the sight of the Valorian forces, now making their approach toward the shore, gave them renewed hope. Valoria, a power from across the seas, had sent their best to defend the Kingdom of Zambesi.
As the landing crafts neared the shore, waves crashed against the armored hulls. The first craft hit the sand, its metal ramp crashing down, sending the first wave of Valorian infantry sprinting toward the beach, rifles at the ready. Behind them, the rumble of tanks could be heard, the powerful engines driving the hulking machines off the landing crafts and onto Zambesi soil.
The citizens watched in silence, awed by the display of military might. Some whispered among themselves, while others offered prayers of thanks, knowing that the Valorian fleet stood between them and destruction.
Up on the docks, the Zambesi officials gathered to greet their saviors, among them was Chief Mosi. They looked at the man walking in the center with a black crisp military uniform adorned with the insignia of the Valorian Army. His presence commanded respect as he strode forward with purpose.
General Raelthorn Graves, the man in charge of Valoria's operations in Zambesi.
Chief Mosi stepped forward to greet him.
"General," he began, "on behalf of the Kingdom of Zambesi, we welcome you. Your arrival has brought hope to our people, and we are honored by your presence."
Graves extended his hand, his grip firm. "I was told that your name would be Chief Mosi? I'm General Graves of the Valorian Army."
Chief Mosi clasped General Graves' hand with a steady grip, his weathered face betraying only a hint of the anxiety that had gripped him for days.
"Yes, General. Chief Mosi of Maputo. It is a privilege to stand with you in defense of our people."
Chief Mosi stood at a distance, watching the swift efficiency of the Valorian forces. The sight of such well-coordinated preparation brought him a measure of peace.
General Graves approached Chief Mosi once again.
"Chief Mosi," Graves called out as he neared, his voice commanding but not harsh. Mosi turned to face him, sensing the urgency in the General's approach.
"General," Mosi greeted, his voice steady though the underlying tension still lingered. "It seems your men are making swift progress. The city is becoming a fortress."
Graves nodded, his expression grim. "That's the intention, but fortifications alone won't guarantee victory. I need to take full control of Maputo, Chief. Your officials, your forces—they need to follow my command if we are to succeed. The Matalebe are not just a threat at the gates; they have the means to infiltrate the city if we aren't careful."
Mosi hesitated, the weight of the request sinking in.
"Full control?" he repeated, his brow furrowing.
"Don't misunderstand it for me seeking power over your people," Graves clarified.
his is about efficiency and the survival of your city. If we're to protect Maputo, every defense, every move must be executed with precision, without hesitation or conflicting orders. We can't afford divided authority when the enemy could strike at any moment."
Chief Mosi studied Graves carefully, the tension between his duty to his people and the necessity of ensuring their survival pressing heavily on his mind. He understood the logic in Graves' request but couldn't ignore the significance of relinquishing such control.
"I do not doubt your intentions, General," Mosi said thoughtfully. "But you must understand, this city is not just a military stronghold to us—it is the heart of our culture, our people. Handing over complete control is not a decision I take lightly. The people of Zambesi look to me for leadership, and I must answer for their future."
Graves's expression softened, though his resolve remained. "I understand, Chief. I don't take this responsibility lightly either. Valoria is not here to occupy or claim your lands. We are here to ensure that Maputo remains standing, that your people have a future to return to when this is over. But to do that, I need the flexibility to make swift decisions without bureaucracy slowing us down."
"I have seen what happens when hesitation is allowed to creep into battle," Mosi said slowly. "I know what you're saying is true."
Graves waited, sensing that Mosi was still weighing his options.
Finally, Mosi turned to meet the General's eyes. "Very well, General Graves. I will grant you full control of Maputo's defenses. I will speak to my officials and make it clear that they are to follow your orders without question."
"Thank you, Chief Mosi," Graves replied. "I won't betray your trust. This city and its people will be defended with every resource I have."