pirated stuff

Viktoriya Ivanovna Serebryakov had always been a loyal devotee to Tanya von Degurechaff's leadership ever since she first laid eyes on the Ace of Aces when the golden child awaited her like an angel sent from heaven to deliver her from her own blood, vomit, and piss. Ever since then, the Empire she had grown to call home was stagnant, degenerative, and filled with failure; leaving her and her fellow White Emigres disillusioned and embittered by the Imperial cause.

But not Tanya von Degurechaff. Never Tanya von Degurechaff. Serebryakov found the words coming from her major's mouth both disturbing and enlightening. Victory was assured but not without absolute confidence in the orders of her dear leader. While the Empire was suffocating from the pressures of war, it was Tanya who brought the war euphoria into her lungs as if she were not a conscript but a servant of Heaven. It was a tantalizing taste.

Addictive even.

What Tanya had demonstrated during the Great War was just a hint of what Holy Rus could have been under a truly benevolent, diligent leader. If only Tsar Nikolas II had a molecule of Tanya's infinite wisdom and foresight, he would not have been executed by the Bolsheviks and damned the entire empire to the perfidious Judeans. She would not have lost her uncles and aunts to the Red Terror.

But why show mercy to the Judeans? What have they done for Germania but brought ruin, catastrophe, and humiliation?

But most importantly, why was Tanya von Degurechaff so enamored with them? She didn't have a Judean for a lover, neither was she secretly Judean - Serebryakov would never dare slander her dear leader with such fallacious rumors. Not even in her dreams - her mind was a fortress with its gates barred and its walls guarded, forever protecting the golden light that Tanya had shown to her that day on the Rhineland Front.

Serebryakov has consulted her peers and even the Orthodox priests, even the ones too liberal for her tastes, but none could offer an answer to Degurechaff's attitude outside of a vague commitment to "Love Thy Neighbor." With the leader, it is never this simple. Never this straightforward.

There was always a plan. It was always another plot to succeed. Only once she had finally opened up her concerns to Elena Muller did Serebryakov realize the scope of Tanya's ambitions.

Her friend Muller shared a story that her grandmother used to tell her: There once was a little girl who came across a rattlesnake. The rattlesnake asked the girl to pick him up and be his friend. After the girl did so, the rattlesnake bit her. When the girl, now dying, asked, "Why did you bite me?" The serpent merely responded: "You knew what I was when you picked me up."

No wonder her dear leader had spent so much time and energy courting the Judenvolk: once they voted for their own destruction, no one would intervene to save them. Degurechaff's plan was so…so…perfect - brilliant even. A political deception of the highest scale.

A Judean-free Europe? An impossibility.

But with this plan, it was a reality becoming closer each minute.

Serebryakov could already see it: Kaiserin Tanya I on her golden throne, basking Europe with her infinite wisdom and benevolence; Holy Rus, liberated and pure from the Godless Reds; the decadent West, Francois and Albion, humbled and tamed.

And the Judenvolk. Gone. Every last one of them.

Their legacies removed and their memories buried; a foundation in which a free and prosperous Europe could rule the world while the Black Dragon, opulent and imperial, ruled Europe.

"Is our plight amusing you?" Herr Wilhelm Goering spat. Despite being given a chocolate cake with vanilla cream, he looked as grumpy as a toad in a dry pond.

Serebryakov snapped out of her daydreaming, realizing she was smiling the entire time while Muller was discussing matters with the non-Rohrite fascists.

"I'm sorry," the White Russy attempted to apologize, "I fail to see why everyone is suffering when such good food and wine is offered."

"Good food alone does not redeem a bad host." Goering retorted, "Our presence was mandatory."

"It was the only way to get all of you to come to this conference." Elena Muller replied quite harshly.

"You could have sent me a letter!"

"Which I did."

"By throwing a grenade through my window!"

"It was a brick."

"A brick strapped to dynamite!"

"They were candles wrapped in brown paper."

"Wrapping paper that had the word 'High Explosive' written on it."

"It was written in crayon with silly childish handwriting."

"You had a fake grenade thrown through your window?" said Herr Heinrich Class, "I was approached at gunpoint."

"Gentlemen, my lady." Hans von Zettour, on Visha's left, sat up from his seat to silence the bickering. "Can we not argue in my fine estate? We have more important matters to discuss. Matters that require your presence. So please enjoy the desserts and lunch. You would find no better chef on this side of the country."

"Yes." Visha nodded as she reviewed the members in the room. "Has everyone arrived?"

To her left were the Anti-Rohrite demagogues, the most prominent in the entire political landscape: Herr Goering and Herr Class were the usual suspects; men that represented the disgruntled Junkers and their Preussian nostalgia. Given their conservative views on female leadership, they obviously resented living under the shadow of Tanya von Degurechaff's agreement.

There was also Erwin Maximillian von Ludwig-Richter, an Ostdeutschvolk who maintained close connections with White Russy Emigres and the conservative Beruners - the only fascist present who wasn't coerced into joining this special event hosted on Zettour's estate. In fact, he was the only one sought out by Visha directly.

But behind Richter, perhaps the most important person in Serebryakov's life save for Tanya herself, was the Grand Duke and Tsesarevich Nikolas Vladimirovich Romanovy. The Tsar-in-Exile and uniting figurehead of the White Russy emigres across the former Imperial states. The young man shifted uneasily in his seat, clearly wanting to carry on with his journey to emigrate to Parisee. His 'Shadow Prime Minister,' philosopher and theorist, Alexander Ivanovich Il'in, by contrast, was far more enthusiastic for the occasion, going as far as making small talk with Secretary General Erich von Lergen.

Lergen, unlike everyone else in the room, seemed ready to bolt out of the room like a bullet shot from a gun if it weren't for his close relationship with Zettour. He simply sat in his seat as still as a statue and wished he was invisible. Visha had to hand it to him, Lergen wore his poker face well.

To the right side of Visha was, of course, Elena Muller, followed by her cousin Henning Muller, then Bruno Heydryck, and the squad commanders of the 203rd: Weiss, Koenig, and Neumann.

"Just waiting for one more person but he is rather unimportant for our current discussions so we can proceed." Muller replied, reviewing the guest list before looking back to the typist, signaling him to start recording.

Serebryakov rolled her eyes, no one is unimportant in Muller's eyes. This is the same woman who spied on her for the war effort when they were roommates. All because of a single joke she shared in military school.

"Then let us begin. Herr Muller, please, what is the latest status of Hessen?"

Pulling out a file, the detective pulled out several papers and maps to pass around the table.

"While I do not support the idea of Degurechaff presenting herself as bait for the Bolsheviks, her actions had forced them to reveal their hand too early." Henning Muller explained, pointing at several locations on the map of Kassel, "After interrogating the remaining instigator and coordinating with the local police, we raided several Communist party offices and city headquarters. That uncovered secret communication lines that led directly to hidden caches of weapons in these factories, this printing press, and even this beer hall. As it turns out, the Bolsheviks were transporting firearms by the dozen into Bavaria through the use of taxis."

"That's rather ingenious of them," Goering remarked, prompting murmurs of agreement around the table. "Is there a union of taxi cab drivers?"

"Yes." Muller nodded. "The union boss has been arrested for collusion with treasonous activities. The union members are still being processed by the Kassel police. I must say though, the procedure was not as clean as I hoped it would be."

"But Bavaria is safe from the Reds, right?" Class inquired, suddenly interested in the direction of this meeting.

"Yes…and no." Muller continued, shifting to another map. "By shutting down their primary method of delivery, the Bavarian police moved in to root out the insurrectionists. However, in order to do this, they had to rely on the muscle of Rohr's Brownshirts. As such, Southern Germania has emerged as a National Vanguardist stronghold; he is expanding his influence westward into Wuttemberg and Baden."

"That is…worrisome," Romanovy commented.

"Surely there has to be resistance." Weiss spoke up, "His revolutionary zeal is no better than the Kozis."

"We do have many holdouts loyal to the federal government," Muller continued, "But given the current trajectory of the current regime, their trust will only continue to wane given the lack of… aggression."

"What of the Judeans in the south?" Heydryck asked.

"Given the anti-semitism at the forefront of Rohr's policies, harassment, burglary and vandalism have increased tremendously," he replied.

The blonde giant softly grunted upon hearing the news.

"At least we know there are people who are guaranteed to support us in removing Rohr from Germanian politics."

"Rohr is not as secure as he thinks he is," Goering grumbled, digging into his cake. "His movement will grow bankrupt eventually. It's just a matter of preventing entry into the Reichstag. He will receive no aid from the Bavarian Junkers."

"It is also a matter of minimizing his damage inflicted in Southern Germania." Serebryakov added, "He may not have the power yet to putsch Berun, but he could march into Munich. What is the current number of his Brownshirts?"

Muller looked back to another paper and examined it before passing it to her.

"That many?" Serebryakov couldn't register how Rohr could hold sway over so many people. "Are there any mages among his ranks?"

"These are the optimistic estimates from my police department." Muller said, "At least 2 million Brownshirts concentrated in Southern Germania. As for any mages, we could not find evidence of mage work given the circumstances in Bavaria."

A wave of dread fell upon the room; Rohr commanded a body of men that surpassed the entire Red Army.

"We can take them." Neumann broke the silence, causing his two comrades to turn and stare blankly at him. Even with the combined numbers of their fascist allies, it was still a tall order.

"Elena?"

"Unfortunately, infiltration has proven to be more difficult than anticipated. Without more funding, I am rather limited in resources." she answered, glaring at Goering.

"You and your circus of whores can get more money from my employers once you liberate their assets in the West." He glared back. "That was the deal."

"Then let us shift focus to Westphalia and the Rhineland." Serebryakov said, "Elena, what have you managed to uncover?"

Tanya's spymaster pulled out a document from her suitcase.

"Like my cousin's report, these are optimistic estimations of the current strength of the Red Front: about 1.5 million armed personnel in Westphalia and the Rhineland. However, a majority, if not all, of their forces are merely militia. Plainly speaking, they are nothing more than factory workers who were given rifles and pistols. A professional army corps should be sufficient enough to scare them back into their workplaces and submit to Berun."

"Which would have been done months ago if the SPD wasn't sitting on their hands." Herr Class grumbled.

"Or if Tanya von Degurechaff marched in herself with her army in tow," Heydryck muttered, earning him unsaid agreements from the 203rd veterans. "Speaking of which, why is she not here still? Shouldn't the wedding be over by now?"

"Indeed." Elena Muller nodded, "Though, my past associates had described her to be partaking in some errands in Konigsberg."

"Konigsberg?" Richter said, "If I had known that earlier, I could have gotten in contact with my allies there to arrange a meeting with her…Alas, such is life. What is she doing there?"

"It is irrelevant to discuss that given our current topic."

Visha rolled her eyes again. Irrelevant to tell Richter…

"To answer the original question…" Zettour gestured over to Lergen, who looked as if the Grim Reaper had his hand on his shoulder. "Our Secretary-General has a key detail to address."

But before Lergen could speak, there was a sudden knock on the door. It was Zettour's head butler bringing awareness that the last guest had finally arrived.

"Hold that thought, dear friend," the retired general said, getting out of his seat to walk towards the front door. Gesturing to his butler to let the guest in "Let us make ourselves presentable."

"Alan Foerster." Serebryakov said his name with a hint of suspicion. From the looks of the man, he was nothing how she envisioned, even with Elena's preliminary description. She was expecting someone…bold. Like Weiss, Neumann, or Koenig; not this unimpressive journalist from the DNVP.

What is he even doing here?

"That's me." He laughed awkwardly, taking his spot next to Lergen. "Now, I can tell why everyone here is wondering why I got the invitation…it's because of an extraordinary incident in Pullska."

"Extraordinary?" Herr Class repeated quite sternly, "And you dare hide this important information from being published in our newspaper? It could have increased the sales and the membership of our party!"

Foerster blushed with embarrassment. "Yes, well, it is because Degurechaff herself was insistent that I keep it a secret from my workplace. Hence why I came to the DDP instead, to find Degurechaff's allies and made contact with Frauline Muller here."

"So what is it?" the Tsar-in-exile asked innocently. "Did she embarrass herself?"

"No. you see…she was attacked."

The time froze to a standstill in the room. Everyone looked at Foerster with piqued interest.

"By Judeans. It was an assassination attempt."

Again, silence.

"The Judeans coordinated an assassination on Tanya von Degurechaff when she was traveling with me in Konigsberg. They were following us as we walked the streets before attacking her."

If looks could kill, Serebryakov's face would have made the entire black soil of Kieva barren and salted.

"This cannot go unanswered…" Class remarked, his rage replaced with a cold calculating fury. "Her honor must be avenged."

"Indeed." Goering huffed, "It seems we were right all along. We can't really trust them. Our beloved war hero offers them an olive branch and they repay her with a dagger to the back."

"It was a knife to her face…" Foerster quickly corrected.

"Word will spread eventually." Henning Muller stated, "Even Judeans have loose tongues; the assassins cannot keep this hidden forever. We'll need to control the narrative to prevent unwanted conclusions drawn from this attack."

"We must pay blood for blood." Serebryakov whispered. To think she was this close to losing her golden sun to the enemy.

"Wait, wait… some details are missing." Heydryck held up his hands. "Herr Foerster, was Degurechaff injured in any capacity?"

"No. Her strength remains unmatched." The journalist quickly shook his head. "If anything, she had expressed forgiveness towards her attackers."

"Why is that?" Richter said, looking at Tanya's subordinates. "It seems…so unlike her to let her enemies live. Did she always have this soft side?"

Weiss, Neumann, and Koenig gave conflicting answers if their words could be considered answers, as they too were at a loss of words regarding their leader's attitudes towards her attackers.

"No-no…" Weiss looked as if he had a mouth full of lemon juice. "She wouldn't."

"After everything?" Neumann dithered, "I feel that makes it the most unbelievable story you could have told me."

"I don't think so either." Konig remarked, "No one threatens the Major and gets to walk away alive. I mean, Visha, you saw how she fights."

Serebryakov felt torn. On one hand, the mercy Tanya had given to the Judeans was evidence of her good nature; evidence that war and bloodlust had not conquered her mind. If Degurechaff can find peace with her assassins then perhaps…

No. The Bolsheviks are the eternal enemy. They seek nothing but the complete obliteration of God and Rus; their federation is a twisted blasphemous mockery of the egalitarian, meritocratic institutions of the Empire. There can never be peace in Europe as long as the Bolsheviks and their Judean puppet masters exist.

"How generous for Degurechaff to turn the other cheek to the Judeans," Richter said, looking around the room. "However, I believe that we do not subscribe to such pleasantry here."

Goering, Zettour, and Class were eager for blood; Il'in and Elena wore a smug grin on their faces; Romanovy and Lergen looked downcast at Richter's words; Heydryck and Muller were deep in contemplation; Neumann, Koenig, and Weiss were more hesitant and looked to Serebryakov for guidance.

"A measured response is still required…" she said slowly. God, showing restraint towards the great enemy of Holy Rus was such a foreign feeling. "Just because they failed once does not mean they won't still consider trying again."

Richter nodded in agreement.

"The Judenvolk are a clever, crafty people - no doubt they have schemed a thousand and one plots to remove her from the political scene." He concluded.

"But why?" Weiss looked around the room. "It doesn't make any sense that she was attacked in the first place. The DDP is a party of Judeans - her rhetoric appeals to Judeans…"

"She even worked with Judeans to take down Bolshevik scum." Heydryck commented.

"Control," Serebryakov stated as scorn crept over her face. A poisonous look infected the expressions of her party comrades. "The Judenvolk only want to exert power over the Empire - they see our leader merely as a little doll to manipulate and control. Fortunately for all our sakes, she bows to no master but God himself."

"But what would they promise her?" the exiled Romanovy inquired, "From the looks of it, Degurechaff got everything she wanted - save for the war's end. I doubt she even fears death."

"It's simple isn't it?" Class interjected. "Everything. The Judeans would have promised her everything: money, power, glory - everything and anything to reduce her to becoming their mindless slave. For all the faults I have with her, at least I can appreciate her independent mind and call to action."

Zettour shared a smile with that sentiment, sharing a toast with Herr Class. Only Secretary-General Lergen had the polar opposite reaction. Like a pebble causing an avalanche, he stood up with great indignation and horror as he looked straight at Serebryakov, occasionally glaring at Goering, the Mullers, and finally, Zettour.

This prompted Elena to quickly turn her head and gesture to the typist to pause his transcription. Thank God for such loyal, docile men.

"ENOUGH!" Lergen was on the cusp of shouting his lungs out. "Enough of this - ugh! This is entirely contradictory to Degurechaff's rhetoric and personality. She would not approve of this discussion! I know of it! She approached me - I…I have been directly assured, by the Ace of Aces herself, that she denounced this rhetoric, denounced this slanderous talk towards…towards the Judeans. She told me - SHE told me - that there is no Judean conspiracy plotting the downfall of a liberal, democratic Europe, that there is no treachery, no 'Stab-in-the-back', by the Judeans. She stated that the war was lost on our…our merit, our own shortsightedness; our very ego blinding us from the reality of the Great War! If Degurechaff were here, she would denounce the anti-semitic rhetoric you all have been spewing!"

Despite the outburst, the glare from Serebryakov was enough to reduce the Secretary-General into a stone-cold giant and despite his efforts to remain unreadable, a flash of fear was seen across his face. Anger was what Lergen expected, the hatred he could prepare for, but a soft, delicate smile terrified the man. For in her eyes, Lergen can see the Devil herself staring back.

"And Degurechaff will continue to denounce anti-semitism." Serebryakov stated, her sly smile unwavering.

For a moment, the room fell silent again as slowly but surely, Lergen buried his face into his hands, his eyes wider than his dinner plate, as his mind reached the same conclusion as hers. It was rather…cute watching a grown man struggle to stay coherent, tearing into his own face as he was forced to reconcile the reality of Tanya's movement. In a way, Lergen felt like he shouldn't be surprised: He knew that Degurechaff was a great deceiver but he had never expected that the wool was pulled over his eyes.

Maybe it was because he desperately wanted her to find a safe and secure future in the Germanian Democratic Party, away from the trenches and gunshots and therefore he still had some glimmer of hope that Tanya was telling him the truth. But for a child who was given guns for toys, grenades for dolls, and a uniform as a dress, it was only natural for Degurechaff to kill and only kill. Like a starving lioness led by the scent of blood, it was a matter of time before the hunters used the Judeans as bait.

Despite his efforts to calm himself down, Lergen got up from his seat with great effort and Serebryakov watched him excuse himself from the table to look for a balcony.

"I will accompany him." Zettour said, getting up from his chair as well, "It must be the stress of the revelations he has yet to share from the Ministry of Defence."

Meanwhile, Heydryck felt the urge to speak up for Lergen but thought better of it when he saw Elena's staring daggers at him. His mouth was quickly shut as he resumed deep contemplation. Goering wore the same expression.

"Can I leave too?" asked Nikolas Romanovy.

"Absolutely not." Serebryakov snapped.

"What the Tsar means to say…" Il'in spoke up, "Perhaps we should have a small break first before we continue with the main discussions. I am sure we can smell the food in the other room, hmm?"

"Very well." She conceded, "How does 10 minutes sound?"

"Sounds quite lovely." Herr Muller nodded, vacating his seat to pick out meat and vegetables from the buffet.

He was quickly followed by everyone else in the room save for Elena and Visha. With the two women alone, the White Russy turned to her former roommate with a request.

"Put his name on the list." She demanded. "I fear his talents could not compensate for the liability he brings to Tanya's vision."

Elena raised an eyebrow in fascination.

"I can but there is no guarantee I would have an opportunity to arrange for a more intimate encounter so long as he has the Kaiserin's favor. She'll ask questions. Too many questions, may I add."

"Do it anyway. His dissension will only threaten the unity of our movement." Visha insisted before exiting the room. "No loose ends."

With her gone, Elena took out her small notebook, making sure she was the last person in the room, and added the latest suspect to the list of future terminations that the White Russy commanded.

Erich von Lergen ~

She paused, briefly ruminating, before writing another name on the book.

Viktoriya Ivanovna Serebryakov ~

"You seem to have a lot on your mind, Heydryck." Goering stated the obvious as he grabbed a plate of roasted tomatoes and sausages before moving on to load it with bacon and lettuce. "Care to share?"

Heydryck, in comparison, kept his servings small. He kept an eye out to see Serebryakov escorting Grand Duke Romanovy to a separate room. No doubt to torment him with a thousand questions or praises. The Mullers were conversing amongst each other, speaking in hushed tones.

Sensing it was safe enough to converse, the blonde giant turned to the Junkers' lapdog.

"I feel…slightly confused with the direction of this meeting concerning the Judenvolk."

"Likewise." Goering muttered, "Forgiveness, pah! What is she thinking? Showing mercy to those rabble-rousers? Their minds are dull and their senses soft…they can't comprehend how lucky they are."

"Can't or won't?" Heydryck questioned sarcastically.

"Excuse me?"

"I worked with the Judeans in Kassel, talked among them, even trained a militia with members of their community there for a brief time as Herr Muller worked to uncover the Bolshevik plot."

"So you did," Goering remarked, crunching on his bacon. "And what did you discover after ingraining yourself with them?"

"That they are smart - smarter than I realized; highly intelligent in many instances. Give them a gun and they will form an army, give them leadership and they will form a nation. A dumb Judean we can predict, a dumb Judean we can destroy. But as far as I have seen, there were no dumb Judeans in Kassel."

"So they're organized and well-armed? That explains why my Freikorps are experiencing so much difficulty engaging against Judeans on the streets recently." Goering grumbled. "Did you at least find anything incriminating?"

Heydryck simply gave a sly smile. "No. Whatever plots they have concocted, they hid it well. Granted, I may have been distracted talking with their rabbi concerning communist movements in the city."

"Degurechaff is playing a dangerous game if these Judeans are as intelligent as you say they are. Give them the slightest chance and the Judenvolk will turn those guns against Germania and her people."

"Hence why they have to resort to assassinations. They know they can never hope to defeat the Ace of Aces in open combat. The fact that these 'puppetmasters' approach Tanya first demonstrates their initial respect for her."

Goering grunted, seemingly dissatisfied with Heydryck's answer.

"What is her stance on the Judean Question exactly? Serebryakov says it is one thing, and now Zettour says it is another. What about you? What is her view on the Judeans? Did she ever tell you?"

"Yes. She did." Heydryck murmured, feeling the phantom pain in his groin returning. "I believe…that in her crusade, she is willing to ally with anyone who can take up arms against Bolshevism and the Francois. Entertaining the idea of a Judean cabal threatens unity in her grand coalition, even if her enemies and current allies are the same people."

"Do you think that she would still be inclined to continue this partnership with the Judeans?"

"If what Foerster said was true, then yes, I believe she would. However, if these assassins and plots persist, then it will surely end one way or another."

"You seem rather displeased, perhaps sympathetic, for the Judeans." Goering smirked.

"What are you insinuating, Herr Goering?" Heydryck shot back. "The Judenvolk were allowed the opportunity to become something greater, to become part of Germanian society as loyal and true citizens only to spit on that offer by that attempt on her life. She may grant them forgiveness but I doubt it was given freely."

"So you say," Goering hummed, "If the Argent Silver chose to retaliate, how long would it take, shall we say, for all the Judenvolk to witness her wrath?"

Heydryck nibbled on a piece of garlic bread as he considered his words.

"In truth?" he answered, "Since it is not the question of if Tanya 'could' clean the streets of Europe but 'when'…it could take - dare I say - four or six years. Optimistically."

"Sir," said the head butler, "There is a phone call asking for you."

"Is it from Rudensdorf?" Zettour asked, turning his head to meet his employee.

"No sir."

"Then hang up."

"But sir-"

"Remember that this lunch gathering does not exist." the Junker reminded his staff member. "The only calls I would answer today are from either Rudensdorf or Degurechaff; if she calls, which she won't. So hang up immediately."

"Right away sir." the head nodded, leaving the Preussian Junker to catch up to his friend.

"Deep breaths, my friend, take deep breaths." Hans von Zettour advised as he followed Erich von Lergen towards the balcony. "Perhaps you would like a cigar to calm the nerves?"

"Cigar?" Lergen repeated, quickly turning around to see his associate offer him a single roll. How the elder veteran could be so accepting of the words being said back in that dining room was maddening. Hilarious even if the bespectacled man had the stomach to laugh. But there was only an empty pit in his belly that the Secretary-General felt. "No, I don't think so."

Both men soon leaned against the railing as they turned to gaze upon the trees that decorated Zettour's estate. While Lergen turned his eyes on the little birds making nests among the branches, Zettour looked up to stare at the clouds overhead as he lit a cigar to smoke.

"You are awfully calm about this." Lergen spoke up suddenly. "Are you not concerned with Degurechaff retaliating against us for defying her warning?"

"What do you possibly mean?" Zettour huffed, "We practically raised her to adulthood; we are her fathers in all but name and blood. She would be nothing without us. That is the reality."

"And if that reality is contrary?"

"She will line us up against the wall together with Rudensdorf and shoot us herself."

"And that doesn't scare you?"

"No, it doesn't because it would be an extremely foolish thing to do. She cannot hope to rule Germania of her own volition. She needs us to help govern, to help lead the nation to victory."

"That's what the Kaiser thought too, right up until you made him into a figurehead." Lergen snorted despite knowing that Rudensdorf's junta benefitted him as well. The Secretary-General hated how he let himself become a political animal during the dictatorship.

"Tanya thinks she knows more but we have seen more," Zettour replied, with more bite in his words. "She is a prophet, no doubt about it, but a prophet must be correct all the time, or else…I can only hope that when the Social Democrats implement her economic reforms, it works as intended."

For a moment, the men grew silent in each other's company, pondering what the future might bring.

"I am not scared of Tanya." Zettour ruefully remarked, "I am scared for her."

"For her?" The Secretary-General was mildly surprised. "Why?"

"It's the company she keeps."

"Who? Serebryakov?"

"No, Frauline Muller."

"Should I know her?" Lergen immediately regretted that question when Zettour turned to him with naked fear in his eyes.

"No, but she should know you…I would have never allowed Tanya or Serebryakov to be in the same room as Muller. Even if she was Rudensdorf's greatest asset in maintaining stability on the Home Front."

"Pardon me but I fail to see how Muller can be more terrifying than the Argent Silver."

Lergen wanted to laugh, but to see his ally so stoned-face killed that urge.

"Three years into the Great War, Muller's father reported his Judean wife went missing following a bread riot. Granted, she was participating in that bread riot to protest about the food shortages, but as far as the police records go no one was shot - everyone that was arrested had been accounted for - but she had disappeared. Rudensdorf had expressed his condolences, but the messenger reported how nonchalant he was with the letter."

"And her father?"

"He disappeared as well shortly before the war ended - Muller claimed he died in a burglary incident but there was no official police report on that affair either."

"So what happened?"

"Knowing her handiwork and her mother's flirtation with Bolshevik ideology, Elena Muller must have tortured her mother over a five-year period before discreetly disposing of the body in a lake or river. I express no doubt her father met a similar fate given his backing of the Social Democrats." Zettour explained, "Do you understand the kind of woman that Tanya is getting in bed with? She is letting someone who killed her parents with her own hands become part of her inner circle."

"Why didn't you tell her?" Lergen asked, shocked.

"Because if I did, it wouldn't change a thing. Right now, Muller is too useful and has too many connections to be gotten rid of. Informing Degurechaff about her clandestine suppression activities will only paint a target on my back."

"Won't Degurechaff find out on her own?"

"Would she even care when she does?" Zettour answered. "She's an orphan after all."

'She doesn't know the warmth of a mother, the joy of a father, or the protection of a safe and prosperous home. She is a child born for war and conquest.'