Republic Reborn: Against the Stars and Stripes-Chapter 42: Barely Begun

The sala rang out with laughter. Over snacks and drinks, Vicente and Ronaldo had begun teasing each other about their mishaps during the journey.

Vicente was reminded of the time he tripped over a rock in Parañaque and fell sharply on his back, or how he curiously picked up a goat dropping—thinking it was some sort of berry—as we passed by a farm in Bacoor.

Ronaldo, on the other hand, got teased for earning the ire of a farmer’s wife in San Nicolas when he haggled too hard over one of her chickens—possibly another attempt to impress me. Or for how he flirted with one of the maids in General Mascardo’s house and got spectacularly snubbed.

The back-and-forth would not end in a tie. Triviño gained the upper hand when he recalled how Dimalanta had tried to rally the discouraged troops during our miserable march near Naic. He nudged his horse to turn around and began delivering a speech, which fell flat when, in the middle of it, his voice cracked. He persisted in continuing, but his words had lost their power—if they had any to begin with.

Nobody laughed at him then, but now, recounting it in the comfort of the Casa Real, we howled, almost running out of breath. Señor Alcantara quickly got comfortable in our company and was just as entertained by the two youths.

Isabela and two maids entered just as our laughter began to settle. With them came our lunch, and only then did we realize it was already noon—and that we were starving.

"How lucky you are, Don Martin... your daughter’s not only a looker but already a good cook at such a young age," Señor Alcantara remarked, briefly pointing at Isabela with his fork.

"I am indeed lucky, Señor... and very grateful," I said with a smirk, glancing at Isabela, who was by my side.

Her tinolang tulingan (skipjack tuna fish soup) was superb, and every sip of the rich broth seemed to soothe every weary bone and sore muscle in my body. Her skill was no less than Agapita’s, and how quickly the rice bowl ran out of rice! Already we were asking for seconds.

"Grateful? I doubt that," she said, dramatically tossing her head. I snorted, and Señor Alcantara laughed again.

By the time the maids were clearing the table, my stomach was full to the point of bursting. Dimalanta, with his big appetite, had to hurry to finish his last spoonfuls.

Señor Alcantara glanced at me, prodding his tongue at his front teeth to clear a bit of food before speaking in a low voice.

"So, Don Martin, what do you want to talk about?" Then, as if remembering we weren’t alone, he glanced at the rest of the room. "Or should we talk about it somewhere private?"

Only the two lieutenants and my daughter were with us. Isabela tilted her head, about to stand up—perhaps thinking she didn’t have clearance for what we were about to discuss. But I would trust her with my life.

"No... I think we can talk about it now," I answered.

The ship captain nodded. "So, what is it, Don Martin? It seems to me this is a serious matter."

"It is," I said, leaning forward and folding my hands on my lap. "And it’s about you and your ship."

Señor Alcantara’s expression shifted. His confusion was mirrored by the others in the room.

"As Isidro may have already told you, I have been made brigadier general and placed in charge of the military district of Marinduque, Mindoro, and Romblon." I glanced around and saw the expected shocked reaction from Isabela, who covered her open mouth with one hand.

I turned back to him. "All three are islands... separated by water."

His face lit up. "I think I know what you’re getting at, Don Martin. You want to hire me for transport—"

"Not just a transport ship," I interrupted, keeping my grim tone, since I was about to ask something significant. "I want your ship to be a navy ship... and you, a navy officer."

"Marina de Guerra?" he repeated, as he glanced at the others’ reactions. They were just as surprised. I had been cooking up the idea in my head during our grueling, boring march to Cavite but had mentioned it to no one.

"Yes... I’m proposing to turn Diligencia into a gunboat," I said with a smirk, thrilled to finally voice the idea. "There’s an old cannon at the Spanish garrison we can bolt to the bow, and we’ll reinforce the hull and deck."

He let out a short, abrupt laugh and shook his head. "Wha— It’s not gonna stand a chance against the Americans."

"It’s not for the Americans," I replied. "If I’m to command these three islands, I need to be respected in the waters around them. I need to at least make my presence known. The Diligencia given teeth would be enough for the job."

Señor Alcantara mouthed a response but then looked down, studying the floor, deep in thought. If he refused, I would understand. But if he did, I’d have to buy a steamship. While I could afford that, I’d rather spend the money refurbishing an already-acquired vessel.

He shook his head. "That would mean I’d have to move my family here."

"Yes... away from Luzon, where things are about to get ugly," I said. "You’ll be given a house in Boac, and you’ll be paid well. I imagine that if war breaks out, your work will be threatened."

He scratched his head and leaned back on the couch. Then he glanced at me with a subtle smile. "And can I rename it?"

My heart sank a little at the request. I had already been excitedly brainstorming names for the ship.

"Sure."

---

I had hoped to rest for the afternoon and postpone work until tomorrow. After the tiresome journey, I believed I had earned that.

That plan was dashed when I received a visitor—one I could not refuse.

Colonel Abad could hardly believe his ears when I told him what had happened in Malolos. He was so stunned that I had to show him my letter of appointment and my shoulder patches.

"I must admit, when you left for Manila, I thought it was your way of distancing yourself from us. I thought I sensed some hesitance in you," Colonel Abad said with a wide grin, blurting out words like an excited child. "But... I assumed wrong."

"I take it you welcome the development?" I asked. I knew Colonel Abad had been impressed by my brief marksmanship instruction, but being his general was an entirely different matter.

"Of course!" he exclaimed. "You already have some influence in the area, you have resources, and not to mention, knowledge in training soldiers. You are more than qualified... or at least, more qualified than anyone else I can think of."

My smile stretched from ear to ear. That made him the second ally I had gained in a single day—still a long list to go, but not bad considering I had barely begun.

"Well... I think you’ll be more delighted by what I brought."

I led him downstairs to the storage area where the crates were kept. Needless to say, the Colonel reacted like a child on Christmas morning. He pulled out a jacket, brushed his hand over the fabric, held it to his nose and breathed in the scent, and finally, tried it on.

"How about the rifles?" he asked eagerly, taking a peek at a soldier outside with his Mauser.

Rifles. Of course.

While uniforms could raise morale, a good rifle did that too—and, ultimately, was a far greater contributor to a unit’s fighting prowess.

"No... the soldiers in Luzon are running short on rifles as well." My smile faded but was quickly replaced with a determined nod. "But I think I can get them somewhere else... some other way."