Reborn In 17th century India with Black Technology-Chapter 932: Diplomacy with Tibet & BNV Rakshak in Action

2nd March 1674

Lhasa is the political and religious capital of Tibet, established on the banks of the Lhasa River and nestled in the embrace of towering, snow-capped mountain peaks. It currently serves as the seat of the 5th Dalai Lama, the spiritual and political leader of Tibet.

A large carriage, which looked to be rugged, seeing as how parts of its frame were made up of metal and the rest was made up of mahogany wood, pulled by two big and strong domesticated Tibetan yaks, came to a halt right at the entrance at the Majestic Potala Palace, the official residence of the 5th Dalai Lama and the seat of power.

Akhilesh Banerjee, the senior diplomat of the Bharatiya Empire, let out a sigh of relief. In the chilly air, his breath emerged like a dragon’s snort as he finally reached his destination.

Saying Banerjee’s journey was hard would be putting it lightly. Along the way, he didn’t face just one or two problems, but dozens, at every step. Sometimes it was snow blocking the path, other times a fallen tree on a narrow road. There were even troubles caused by wild animals, but most frequently, it was the rugged terrain that made travel extremely difficult. He even had to change vehicles multiple times just to keep moving.

Thankfully, a squad of soldiers from the Kashyapamar Regiment, a regiment completely focused on snow and guerrilla warfare based on the terrain of Kashyapamar and the Himalayas, accompanied him in his journey, and with their help, he was able to, if not the hardships, at least able to avoid the life-threatening situations.

Akhilesh Banerjee rubbed his hands, feeling the chilly wind, and immediately burrowed his hands into the woollen coat for some warmth.

Right behind him, the squad of soldiers who were travelling with him also got down, a few of them always looking around with slight vigilance and consciously placing their hands on their weapons, while the other few were bringing down the luggage.

The guards at the Potala Palace were startled when an unfamiliar group of people appeared, clearly not locals, judging by their darker skin tone and distinct facial features. The guards immediately became alert, placing their hands on their hilts, while the archers in the sentry towers pointed their bows toward the entrance, strings half-drawn and ready to release at a moment’s notice.

Akhilesh Banerjee was both surprised and not surprised by the actions of the guards guarding the Potala Palace.

He was surprised because he was not expecting the Potala Palace to be so tightly guarded. He knew that Tibet, unlike other countries he had been, was barely a country since it did not have its own military, government, or monarchy, instead it was an odd organization that was formed by the religious leader as its absolute core, so he was expecting that the seat of power, although guarded, would not be too tightly guarded, especially since being the Dalai Lama requires that the Dalai Lama be close to the people, and treating any stranger like an enemy is obviously not a good thing.

Akhilesh realised that his speculations were wrong, but at the same time, he was not fully convinced, because a thought lingered in his mind, ’Did something happen in Tibet to make the Dalai Lama so wary? That could explain the tight security.’

As for the reason he was not surprised, it was simply because he already expected the people in the Potala Palace would not recognise who they were and not arrange any welcoming ceremony.

The reason for his speculations was very simple, it was that Tibet does not enjoy the developed communication network like the Bharatiya Empire did, where even the remotest of villages in dense jungles and forests could be contacted from any part of the empire within a time span of a week or two, but it was completely different in Tibet, where news has to travel manually, where a person has to fight against the harsh terrain of the wilderness to deliver the news from one settlement to another, not to mention the weather conditions adds another set of variables which makes estimating the time of news delivery next to impossible.

So even though Akhilesh was certain that the Dalai Lama received the news about his arrival, he would most probably have no clue about when he would be arriving.

Finally, a man who could be identified as the captain of the guards, given away by the appearance of a red fabric on his shoulder, came forward and questioned,

"Who are you people and what business do you have here?"

His words were stern and direct, but still did not appear rude.

Akhilesh Banerjee smiled and explained, "I am the diplomat from the Bharatiya Empire. We have already informed of our arrival through a message written by His Majesty himself, please convey my words to the Dalai Lama" he spoke in fluent Bod Yig, the standard literary and religious language of Tibet.

In fact, his being proficient in Tibetan was one of the reasons why Vijay chose him to be the diplomat of the Bharatiya Empire to be stationed in Tibet. The Bod Yig language is actually an ancient language already dating back over a thousand years, to the time of the existence of the Tibetan Empire in the 7th to the 9th centuries.

For Akhilesh, the language was not too difficult to master, because linguistically the Tibetan script was derived from the Bharatiya script of Gupta and Brahmi, even the writing script is similar to the stylized version of Hindi, so he did not find it too hard to master the language, especially since he was from the state of Ahom, which already had frequent connection with Tibet through trade.

The guard was first taken aback by the man speaking his language so fluently, but then he was shocked, shocked when the realisation hit him about what the man said.

"Please wait a moment, sir, I will inform the Dalai Lama immediately."

His words were extremely respectful as he turned back, as he motioned for the archers to relax their aims, and ran into the palace.

A few minutes later, an old man wearing a single piece of red fabric all over his body walked down from the palace with a smile on his face. Looking at this man, Akhilesh was taken aback as he could sense the deep wisdom and the vicissitudes of life in the old man’s eyes.

He unconsciously became more restrained as he immediately prepared to do a namaskara.

---

While the first official diplomatic meeting between the diplomat from the Bharatiya Empire and the Dalai Lama was happening, an incredible scene was being witnessed at the Mozambique Channel.

"Hey brother, what do you think that small thing is?"

"I don’t know, but from the looks of it, it can only be a ship."

"Nonsense, if it is really a ship, then why is it being pulled by BNV Nampula?"

"It looks to be a ship similar to the Dristi class ships on the coast of the mainland."

"GOD! Is that metal????"

"How is that thing floating?"

"Jesus!!"

"It’s really not paint!!"

"Shiva!!!"

A group of merchants standing by the seaside of Ambaliha port town, a newly built port town on the western coast of Madagascar, were excitedly speculating about the sight before them, until their chatter turned into exclamations of shock, amazement, and disbelief. They had just noticed the glint on the ship, the unmistakable shimmer that only occurs when light reflects off metal.

"Deva, am I hallucinating?"

A large Bharatiya warship, Colombo class frigate, first to be named with an African name, to be more specific, was pulling a smaller ship that was unusually wide, made up of metal, of all things, which made the people watching the scene unfold question reality itself.

Unfortunately, they had no answers for their questions; all they could do was continue to see more Colombo-class frigates come to the Mozambique Channel, tagging along with the small but bulky metal ships.

As time went on, even the European merchants who were waiting at the port until their entry into the Bharatiya waters were attracted by the unusual sight.

"Hey, look over there!"

A young white sailor immediately noticed something odd and screamed, pointing at the horizon.

The people’s eyes were immediately attracted to the place the boy was pointing at.

"Hey, isn’t that the people from the Spice Bone Gang?"

Someone immediately realised the markings on the small ship.

"Huh! What’s that?", few people among the onlookers were confused, not understanding what this so-called Spice Bone Gang meant.

Fortunately, those in the know quickly explained, "It’s a new gang of smugglers that suddenly appeared half a year ago; they specialise in bringing goods into the Bharatiya Ocean and outside the Bharatiya Ocean through various uninhabited tiny islands within the Bharatiya Empire’s sphere of influence."

"Apparently, they are supported by the newly established city-state in the southern part of Africa by a Dutch king."

"They have been very rampant lately, if I am not mistaken, those guys in that distance should be members of this Spice Bone Gang."

With the explanation, the people finally came to the realisation; however, what happened next completely stunned them.

"Boom!"

The small ship, assumed by everyone to be only for communication, since merchants from the Bharatiya Empire had described it as similar to the Drishti-class, a stationary communications vessel, had actually fired a cannonball. What was even more astonishing was the sheer distance from which it was fired.

Unfortunately, the shot missed the smuggling ship by only a few meters, just enough to make the smugglers realise the danger they were in. They had only intended to sail back after loading a batch of goods their employer wanted smuggled into the empire. Who would have thought that the seemingly harmless ship, presumed to be a mere communications vessel, was actually armed, and with guns of such range and accuracy?

"Immediately row the boat!" the bald-headed captain shouted in panic. The sailors scrambled to grab the oars, which had been stashed away on the boat, and began rowing with all their might. They were almost fleeing, desperately hoping to get out of range of the Bharatiya metal ship as quickly as possible.

Unfortunately, the second shot fired, this time it did not miss. The cannonball, fired from the rifled culverin, hit the smuggling boat square in the hull, blasting it apart, sinking the ship in only a few seconds. Most of the smugglers did not survive, as the water pulled them into the depths of the ocean, while only a few people who jumped from the ship early survived.

The people who were watching this from the shore felt cold sweat seep from their backs. They immediately realised that the Bharatiya Empire was simply building an iron curtain in the Mozambique Channel, completely blocking the holes which allowed the Europeans to enter the Bharatiya Ocean.

The European merchants took a big gulp, realising that the Bharatiya became even more perverse in their control over the Bharatiya Mahasamudra.

P.S. SORRY RUFF EDIT, TIRED TODAY

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