Nicodème,

I don't have long. The Téméraire is currently trying to limp to safety, we're out of escorts and there's already been several explosions in various sections, chain reactions from the sustained damage. Or so I'm told. So I'll make this quick.

I did this. This is Option 4. At some point last year, I was tasked by then-grand maréchal Macron to come up with a way to ensure that, even if we were to lose, we could at least save ourselves and protect Gallia from reprisals. This was in accordance with the plan called BRETONIA : FIN DE PARTIE. It was to be a question of survival.
I chose Option 4, over many others, all equally dreadful and inhumane. You cannot possibly imagine. The sick minds we've served... When the time came to inform the Royal cabinet of my decision, I suggested that, in case of a rout in London, we'd pull back with everything we've got, and obliterate as much of Leeds' industrial infrastructure as we could before clearing out. Nice, quick and painless, though there'd have been inevitable collateral damage on account of us being in a hurry. A way to end the game in our favour, even if deprived of the victory we sought.

I'll say this for my defense, and in the hopes you'll hear me out before shutting down this transmission in anger, as I suspect you're very much considering at this second. I never gave the order. I was in London... The battle happened, and by the time we regained our link to the outside world, there was this pack of Triumphs orbiting Leeds, none of them MRG, none of them known to me. Standard procedure, really, as it goes with deterrence ; these ships and their crews were probably prepared accordingly when I declared Option 4 to be our endgame, ready to do... This. It is total, complete and indiscriminate annihilation, against what I had requested. I have no way to stop it.... They are sailors under firing orders. And even if I could... Do you realise what would happen if we just packed up and went ? Leeds would have been quickly restored by the Bretonians and would have been the centrepiece in churning out all sorts of ships that Bretonia would have then used to go after us and finish all of us off. They may not even have stopped at us, and would probably have rampaged through Gallia, weakened as it is now, if they had been given an opportunity.

I despise this, Nicodème. I detest every second that passes ever since we successfully breached London. I don't think I'll ever be able to look at myself in the mirror... But Option 4, at its core, was a necessity. A tragic, detestable, cruel and murderous necessity. Alas, and against better sense, it's currently being carried out without mercy, without care... Without honneur. In truth, I am reassured that you feel such horror and despondency towards it. It means you are indeed the man I thought you were when I gave you this job. Sorry about that, by the way.

Alarm sounds are briefly heard, then silenced.

Keep in mind that all we've done, all we've attempted... It was for Gallia. It must have been ! Not for this King, who is now running God knows where, doing God knows what. He has forsaken us, and would have us destroy billions and die for him, in his absence... No more. I don't know how the next days, or weeks, are going to proceed, Nicodème, and I don't imagine the Council will welcome us with open arms. Or if I even want to talk to these people. We may have to strike it out on our own... Or accept compromises.

Although she can't be seen, a trained, Chanteloup-accustomed ear could sense her smile. A soft, broken smile. I'm saying "we", as though I was going to survive the next few hours. But it may have to be your task, and yours alone, at least until I can, one way or another, get back to you. I'm going to spend those next hours wisely and record instructions, orders and... I suppose a few confessions. I'll send them directly to you as I go along. You will do with them as you please. I trust in your good judgement to pass the information along to those you trust and whom you feel are deserving. You are the MRG's caretaker now. Protect it. Protect our people. Protect our values. Ensure that when the time comes, we have all that we need to make the right decision. Whichever that will be...

Au revoir, amiral. Je reviendrai.

The transmission cuts abruptly.