pirated stuff

Tzarism has always primarily relied upon two things: nationalist loyalties toward the Motherland and the politicization of Christian Orthodoxy to sway the masses into slavish obedience to the government, isolating any dissenting ideology through the sound of Gregorian chants and prayers. Unfortunately, the downfall of Tzar Nikolas II revealed that a third component needed to ensure the supremacy of the autocrats: competent leadership, whether from the head of state himself or his ministers.

A fact that Nikolas Vladimirovich Romanovy knew all too well as his status as exile demonstrates the consequences of ineptitude. The truth is, he disliked the institutions his family had relied so much upon. Nikolas hated the previous Tzar for not abdicating when he had the chance, he hated that he inherited that legacy of incompetence and corruption, and most importantly, he hated that he had no choice in the matter.

The political arena was less of a discourse in Parisee and more of a shooting gallery in Tokyo.

The men that Grand Duke Nikolas would much prefer were all outside of Germania: Kerenski, Miliukov, and even Basil Shul. Instead, all he had around him were power-hungry sycophants. Warmongers and worse. Their hatred of liberalism, cosmopolitanism, and Judeans built iron bars around him and his family. How he longed to escape the prison they built around him and live the rest of his days in Parisee. Yet, for all their flaws, they kept him protected.

Given his status as the heir to the throne of Rus, it doesn't take a Tischler to discern that the Bolsheviks wanted him dead as well. To deny the Counterrevolutionaries and other White Russy emigres a figurehead to rally.

Perhaps it was why he was compelled to stay. In a way, Nikolas envied the Empire for giving his people what Tzar Nikolas II could not. The results spoke for themselves! The first generation of Russy Emigres was forged through the fires of war and came out as tough as iron.

But not steel. Not steel like Tanya von Degurechaff.

For the iron that does not bend shall break.

And the Grand Duke wondered as he sat in a luxurious chair in the house belonging to the Preussian that formed the Duumvirate, glaring at the brown-haired, blue-eyed ariel mage, Viktoryia Ivanovna Serebryakov. By all accounts, she was the second most powerful mage in the entire world, courtesy of being groomed by Degurechaff herself.

Romanovy shifted uncomfortably in his seat as his mind contemplated the implications of a child enforcing Preussian discipline to an adult.

He never met the Devil of the Rhine, the Ace of Aces, and quite frankly, Nikolas prefers to keep it that way. If Serebryakov is what is to be considered a great political and military asset to the monarchist cause, he felt unsafe being so close to Degurechaff's vicinity.

Judging the direction of the conversation Serebryakov has with Il'in and Richter, he will eventually face the Devil herself once she comes back from Pullska. Hopefully, she would be in an amicable mood. Then again, if Serebyrakov was so enthusiastic on the topic of smashing Communist skulls and breaking Judean fingers, a happy Tanya von Degurechaff may be more terrifying than it sounds. Curiously enough, the mere mention of the name was enough to reduce this proud, hateful revanchist into a shameless queer bootlicker.

Just smile, Nikolas. Just smile and nod. This will all be behind you.

Words to live by.

"Shall we resume the meeting?" Nikolas asked, putting up the most natural smile he could muster. He found himself wanting to put an end to the words being spoken even after learning to tune out the conversation in front of him.

Despite the innocent question, the White Russy mage simply glared at him. Almost offended by his voice.

"Very well, let us try out the food and wine being served." Serebryakov suggested.

While not terribly hungry, the Grand Duke had the perfect excuse to get out of the room and away from his admirer.

"I feel we should have accompanied the Major to Konigsberg." Weiss muttered to Neumann, staking his plate with roasted tomatoes and bratwurst. "Without a computation orb, I fear that her assassins would just need to get lucky once."

"If it's such a necessity, why haven't you given one to her?" Neumann replied, mixing some wine with the beer in his glass mug.

"Why haven't you?" the vice commander answered.

"Indeed, why haven't any of us? We all know that there are plenty of spares. Civilian or military, it doesn't really matter. The Major is clever enough to turn copper into steel."

"So why haven't we?"

"Your guess is as good as mine." Neumann grunted, downing his mug in one gulp.

"The Francois?" Weiss suggested.

"There's your answer. The fucking Francois. We can go with that."

"You say as if you have alternatives."

"Come on, those pigs in Parisee fear the Major more than they fear Hell. Give her a computation orb and those bastards will place down another series of sanctions to grab that device out of her hands." Neumann explained, already pouring another concoction of alcohol. "Assuming they don't march into Berun to arrest Degurechaff first. We all know how pigs enjoy their women in bondage."

"Uh, don't remind me. Their occupation of Brussels was bad enough." Weiss hummed. "Just...what kind of men are we? I mean, we broke laws in Arene under the Major but here we follow the laws enacted by the Francois. Disarming the Major is their utmost priority. "

"That amendment hasn't been written yet."

"Yet - of course, following the spirit of Triano. Doesn't that make us hypocrites in our nationalism? Our loyalty to the Major?"

"What are you getting at?" Neumann furrowed his brow.

"Which side are we truly on?" Weiss replied. "Germania or Francia?"

"Germania, of course."

"And yet we did not grant Germania's greatest hero the tool she needs to engage with her foes."

"Because she doesn't need to use such pristine equipment to clear out the trash in her home - listen, Weiss, you need not fret over the law, written or spiritual. These contradictions happen all the time. Just focus on serving the Major and all will be fine. We are her lifeguards after all."

"But -"

"We're not lawyers." Neumann continued, "Don't be scared of the Francois telling us what is lawful or unlawful when we have rifles at our sides. We are not pigs, after all."

"I suppose that you are right on that but what if the Reichstag call for the Major's arrest or if she gets attacked again but they do not step in to protect her? She would still not have a computation orb by her side." Weiss said.

"Then we'll just have to fucking give her one when that time comes! Hmph. Who cares what the Sozis in the Reichstag think? They'll be out of the picture come November. And for them to get to the Major, they will have to go through us."

"With that body type, you'll be bulletproof." Weiss remarked.

"Fuck off." Neumann chuckled, suppressing his giggle with a sip of mixed beer before suddenly turning serious. "But let us be absolutely clear on one thing: the Major has not met a single person or creature she cannot kill, we are there simply to make sure to subdue any attacker before she delivers her judgment."

"But her assassin in Konigsberg…"

"Is either the luckiest or unluckiest man in history, so long as he lives."

Weiss simply nodded, albeit awkwardly before speaking up once again.

"Want to go to the theatre afterward? I heard they're re-releasing Metropolis with sound."

"Really? Hell yeah, I'm up for it. We should bring Koenig along too."

The starving masses cling to Degurechaff, the humiliated army salutes Degurechaff, and the pathetic intellectuals admire Degurechaff. Yet how many Germanians would continue to recognize that it was men who built this country? While Heinrich Class may not say he is the next Bismarck or Frederick der Grosse, he is the proud founder of the Germanian Association, co-founder of the Germanian Fatherland Party, and an invaluable president of the Pan-Germanian League, purging the League of any Judean influence.

To think he was once against the conscription of women into the armed forces - after all, war was a career for real men, not for delicate, hysterical females - Degurechaff had shattered his expectations in all the right ways in all the wrong situations. If Degurechaff was simply born a man, perhaps Class would have thought very differently of Germania's golden child.

Unlike Serebyrakov and Frauline Muller, such women need a husband with soft words and a harsh hand to keep them domesticated. Seriously, why did Degurechaff pick them as her political advisors? Wouldn't she want experienced men at her side? Men with credentials. It befuddles Class that the Ace of Aces put such trust in these women. No matter how much they copy the mannerisms of the Imperial Army, their fragile feminity leaks through.

And the men that follow Degurechaff.

Such submissive slobs. He expected better of the youth of rank and talent.

"Herr Class!" Koenig called out to the politician, causing the old man to break out of his brooding session. "Enjoying the food? The ham and turkey are worth trying out."

"Yes." Class replied, yet he could not conceal the displeasure and uncertainty in his voice. Truly, the meat served was delicious and pungent with an earthy taste.

"Shame our first encounter was so…confrontational. My apology." Koenig said in a tone that did not suggest an apology at all. "Do you accept my apology?"

Again, the young man presented no room for rejection. Especially since he knows where the politician lives and operates. Worrying still was how quickly his bodyguards turned on him when Koenig brought up Degurechaff's name.

"Yes." What else could he say? Even if Muller was in another room, her eyes and ears seemed to be everywhere.

"Good. I'm glad we can move past those grievances and work towards the future."

"The future…" Class repeated. "What kind of future?"

"All sorts of things." Koenig answered, "I cannot say for sure."

"You're not worried?"

"Worried? Perhaps? Scared? Yes. Excited? Definitely."

"Excited? What can be so exciting when the country is falling apart around our ears?" Class questioned sternly. The folly of youth! "Can't you see there's a crisis going on?"

"Indeed, it is exciting. As the Orientals have said, 'With crisis, comes opportunity.'" Koenig replied, drinking wine straight from the bottle. "Have you seen the new art being presented in Berun?"

"Ugh! Don't remind me. You will never find me near those art galleries." the old man looked away in disgust. "Degenerate. All of it! The artists too, including the Judean ones."

"Don't knock what you haven't tried, Herr Class. You never know what you might like seeing. I recommend visiting the Bauhaus at least once. I heard they're hosting a Dada exhibit."

"Please, cease mentioning the 'artworks' of these Judeo-Bolsheviks around me."

With a sly shrug, Koenig turned away and rejoined his uniformed brothers in their corner of the house.

Dada. What a joke - an international conspiracy to weaken the Germanian psyche and spirit through degenerate art. If there is one thing Class wishes from the leadership of Tanya von Degurechaff, it is the cleansing of the art world. Avante-Garde is just a euphemism for moral bankruptcy.

"Alright, everyone. Back your seats." Serebryakov announced as she clapped her hands before resuming her seat as head of the table. Her plate was stacked with all manners of meats; turkey legs, bacon, slices of ham, everything that Zettour's chefs had to offer. "Time is of the essence concerning that election is so close to arriving."

One by one, the attendants shuffled back into the seats. Full bellies have made them more or less jovial to continuing this meeting. Thankfully, Lergen returned with Zettour behind him. The typist also returned to his position and made the final preparations to continue his transcription.

Elena Muller was last to return, closing the doors behind her as if she were a jailer in a prison. As she walked to her seat, Muller gave Zettour a soft pat of assurance on the shoulder. Lergen, however, seemed to shudder at the touch.

"I hope you all enjoyed the food provided. It is sure the shake off the memories of the Turnip Winters." Serebryakov raised a toast to Zettour. "Now, let us continue where we left off."

"The assassination?" Goering asked.

"No." Serebryakov shook her head. "We can get to that later. I was referring to Lergen."

Once again, Lergen found himself as the center of attention as everyone looked to him expectedly. A silent conversation took place when the Secretary-General locked eyes with Zettour, half-pleading and half-negotiating, before Lergen finally conceded with a heavy sigh as he pulled out a file from his dossier.

"I just want this to be known - on record - that you are all not my first audience and that this was not my first course of action…" The Secretary-General grumbled, almost with great remorse. Adjusting his glasses, he began to read aloud. "It is to my great regret to reveal that the Reichswehr, the armed forces of the Republic of Germania, has been infiltrated by Communist ideology. The reason why the Rhineland and Westphalia have been occupied by Bolshevik agitators for so long is because…of collusion with foreign and domestic interests. Are you all familiar with the Minister of Defence, Adolf-Frederich von Hammerstein?"

A few murmurs were the response. Unlike most Junkers, Adolf-Frederich von Hammerstein was fairly uncontroversial when it came to opinion and personality. He was the "safest option" for the Weimar Republic.

"Have you heard about his daughter, Mareike von Hammerstein, and her activities?" Lergen asked to members of the meeting.

A round of "no's" came around the table.

"Yes." said Elena, offering a ghost of a smile and a wink to Lergen.

"Well, she is an active member of the Kommunistische Partei Deutschlands and the apprentice of the party leader, Comrade Lutzeberg. Given the minister's close familial ties, this is a great violation of conduct and a conflict of interests." He explained.

"Is it really that bad? It's just his daughter after all." Weiss asked, earning him a death glare from the White Russites.

"Many children from the minor nobility sided with the Bolsheviks during the Revolution." Serebryakov spoke with gritted teeth. "It's ironic that they ended up getting purged after they overthrew their parents."

"Why did the children do that?" Heydryck inquired.

"Because they were naive little shits."

"In addition, the Reichswehr has been cooperating with the Soviet Federation, in violation of the Treaty of Triano." Lergen continued, before reluctantly passing the file to Elena to examine closely. "Major General Otto Hassen, a friend of Hammerstein, traveled to Moskva to negotiate with Jughashvili. In return for supporting Soviet industry and allowing for Red commanders to train here, in Germania, the Reichswehr could use Soviet training facilities in Rus. Hammerstein is jeopardizing the integrity of the armed forces by exposing them to indoctrination."

It was a half-truth. The Defense Minister was naive but not stupid enough to allow the entire Reichswehr to turn red underneath his nose nor was he "friends" with Hassen. The circumnavigation of Triano benefitted Germania as a whole, a secret rearmament program that was started by the Junkers as soon as the treaty was signed. Both Lergen and Zettour, despite being anti-Bolshevik Preussians, were grateful for the Soviets being open-minded in assisting Germania despite being foes and starving the Empire not too long ago. Yet, this was too good of political defamation against the SPD regime to pass up.

Reveal the truth and the republican project would come crashing down in an instant, paving the way for the return of the Kaiser.

Or Kaiserin.

Already, Lergen could see Zettour plotting ways to blackmail Herimann and Erbel, Berning, and even Schlage into granting concessions to the Junkers. Concessions that could, by design, damage the democratic process of the republic. Even though none of the leaders of the Progressive Bloc knew of this secret arrangement, the fallout would surely destroy the reputation of the Social Democrats as traitors and sellouts to the Germanian people more than being signatories to Triano. This time, permanently.

Degurechaff would love this.

She is coming back from Pullska only to find the keys to power placed into her hands with Zettour and Rudensdorf behind her, guiding her every step.

"Gentlemen, my ladies. Do you now see the urgency and the need for unity in this meeting?" Hans von Zettour announced. "We are the only ones left to defend the Fatherland and its people. We have to support Degurechaff to preserve whatever integrity we have left in our nation and to reclaim our nation's place in the sun. So do please forgive whatever past transgressions you have with her and focus on the future."

"So if the Reichswehr is too compromised to weed out the Reds, it is up to us then to do it?" Goering questioned.

Zettour nodded.

"There is no one else who can be counted on. Our enemies are everywhere. We must unite under Degurechaff's banner. There is no other alternative."

Weiss immediately began pounding the table with his fist in open agreement, Neumann and Koenig followed suit, and soon enough, almost everyone was banging their hand against the fine oak furniture. Almost everyone except Lergen who hid his displeasure behind a glass of wine.

"What of the Judenvolk?" Foerster piqued up, as soon as the applause died down. "How shall we approach them for harming our war hero?"

"With sticks, stones, and handguns, of course." Class answered, feeling highly annoyed towards his employee by the question. "These are Judeans we are talking about - why am I even telling you this?"

"Handguns?" Weiss repeated, almost alarmed by the implication. "Must we go that far? A few harsh words ought to be enough to let her assassins know that they won't get another chance."

"Ha! Have you been on the streets lately?" Goering spat, "The Judeans are organizing. They are carry revolvers, grenades, rifles, and even fucking machine guns. Words will not affect them."

"Do we have to engage them?" Neumann inquired, "Foerster said that the Major was completely untouched. Her assassins failed to land a single blow against her skin. It still warrants a response, yes, but I say it needs to be a measured response."

"Eye for an eye, as the saying goes." Koenig chirped.

"Measured? Are you suggesting to offer mercy?" Richter retorted, "We're soldiers, most of us anyway, not diplomats or the sort. The fact that the Judeans are arming themselves demonstrates their plot to overthrow the state. They're disloyal."

"They have engaged in violent skirmishes recently against many White exiles," Il'in added. "Judean disarmament is highly unlikely without an overwhelming force, which we currently lack."

"For now." Henning Muller stated. "For now."

"Wait!" Heydryck shouted, perhaps too harshly. "Let us not act too hastily. We must remember that election day is on the horizon and Degurechaff's party is the DDP."

"So?" Goering grumbled, "She should be thanking us for marching to defend her honor."

"Allow me to remind you that dead Judeans don't vote. Dead Judeans don't go to the polls. Dead Judeans don't give donations to Degurechaff's campaign treasury. For every Judean you kill, it will cost the DDP a hundred votes. To suggest otherwise is a fallacy." Heydryck boomed, ignoring Goering's remark. "If we want Degurechaff to fix the country, we need to get her and her movement into the Reichstag and her movement is the DDP. She needs the Judean vote, no question about that."

"Degurechaff has demonstrated a willingness to partake in the electoral process," Lergen spoke up. "Violence will only drive away voters."

"But I agree with Neumann," Romanovy winced, "No one needs to die. Perhaps they could get an arm broken, that's all. Nothing more."

"Break a finger, arm, or leg, whatever method you desire for a measured response. The Judean must be alive and at least cognitive enough and physically able to vote for the DDP." Heydryck replied. "If they do not vote for the DDP, then their loyalties lie elsewhere and therefore can be subjected to further discretion."

"But what of the Judean militias? No doubt they have formed an entire Freikorps…" Serebryakov inquired.

"Perhaps a compromise, may I suggest?" Weiss offered. "Instead of focusing on bringing retaliation -"

"Measured response." Neumann corrected, whispering in Weiss' ear.

"- measured response, right, to the Judean body, could we perhaps target their business ventures instead? A nationwide boycott; for a day or month. That way, Judeans don't get harmed by our efforts and they still be able to vote for the DDP while we have accomplished the mission of demonstrating public outrage for the harm being brought so close to the war hero."

"And what do you propose to do with the Judean militias?" Class replied. "What's stopping them from forcing Germanians to buy Judean goods and services?"

"We can kill two birds with one stone," Zettour answered. "As for now, we are greatly outnumbered by the Spartakus and the Brownshirts. Without the Reichswehr, we are at a major disadvantage. However, we can employ these Judean groups westward, and convince them to join our crusade against the Reds, leaving their enterprises open to a boycott."

"Will it work?" The Grand Duke Nikolas asked.

"More than likely." Heydryck answered, "Many Germanian Democrat Judeans detest the Bolsheviks and will not hesitant to remove them from their neighborhood."

'Though there are just as many Judeans who would equally side against us.' Went unsaid.

"This is a dangerous gamble, Herr Zettour." Serebyrakov warned, "It is no coincidence that many Judeans inhabit the upper echelons of Communist leadership."

"Which is why it has to work," Zettour said. "Consider this strategy as a test of character, hm? Any Judean who takes part in removing the communist stain from our country with great fervor and enthusiasm has demonstrated loyalty to the Fatherland, not to Moskva. Those who do not, well, the Germanian people will judge them as traitors and enablers."

"It could equalize the numbers." Henning Muller stated. "But should we wait for Degurechaff to return?"

"Why should we?" Zettour challenged, "The way I see it, we have the perfect opportunity to score a major political victory for Degurechaff and Germania. By providing action where the government could not, we can get the DDP to overthrow the SPD through popular support. An early Christmas present for our hero. We can't expect her to do all the work. Not anymore, at least."

"Wouldn't Herr Schlage resist these plans?" Nikolas Romanovy asked quietly.

"Leave him to me." Elena Muller and Hans von Zettour answered simultaneously.

"As for who would be leading the boycott," Serebryakov began, "Herr Goering, Herr Class, would you like the privilege?"

"Why?" Goering asked in an accusatory tone. "You know what our men stand for and how they operate."

"And you are the only ones available that we could count on to keep Rohr in check." Serebryakov reminded him. "Our presence would be notably absent in the cities and rural areas. However temporary, Rohr would be a bigger idiot and a fool if he did not recognize the opportunity to send his Brownshirts northward."

"What about the White Cossacks?" Heydryck addressed Richter and Il'in, "Can we also trust them to watch our rear while we head westward."

"Pardon me, but I would sooner trust an angry Ispagnan bull in a Sinaen shop." Herr Muller stated, "No offense, Serebryakov - Il'in, I know they are your family but these Cossacks are extremely violent and more than likely target our Judean...allies, to put bluntly."

"They are uncouth too." Weiss interjected.

"And vicious drunks to boot." Neumann added.

"But still useful to our cause even though they are just rabid dogs." Koenig stated.

Serebryakov looked ready to strangle all three of her comrades with her bare hands. Of course, they weren't exaggerating; the Tzars held similar opinions towards their primary enforcers. Cossack stormtroopers in the Rhineland, in Norden, and on the Ionzo front were absolute demons against the Francois, Illdoans, Legadonians, and Albish.

"The fanatics we can ship westward." Richter implored. "Their hatred of anti-Bolshevism exceeds all expectations. The ones that can be trusted to show restraint can partake in the boycott."

"May God help the Judeans." Romanovy muttered under his breath. "But how should we justify these actions? No doubt we will be printing these revelations at the same time with our publishers. Yes, Degurechaff has been attacked but that was outside Germania's borders."

"It's simple." Foerster smiled, "The assassination attempt on Degurechaff - the Reichswehr collaboration with the Soviet Rus - we say that it is the same conspiracy. And to placate the Secretary-General's Judean sympathies…"

The journalist mockingly gestured towards Lergen, prompting a few snickering around the table.

"Now that the Judeans have the opportunity to demonstrate their loyalty to the Fatherland, we can shift the focus to denouncing the Republic in its entirety. The Social Democrats and their ilk - they need to be removed, immediately and permanently."

The members around the table found the idea very receptive much to Foerster's satisfaction. He continued with the scheme.

"How about this: we can say that Degurchaff is the whistleblower. Lergen uncovered the treason against the Fatherland and approached the Ace of Aces to be his canary in the coal mine. She goes to Pullska to investigate the conspiracy herself, causing the Bolsheviks and the traitorous SPD to resort to hiring Judeans to assassinate her to keep her silence. Does it work for you all?"

"Perhaps," Goering contemplated, "It does not violate the agreement with Degurechaff."

"Indeed," Class agreed, "How convenient for us to avoid breaching the arrangement by a technicality. "

"Serebryakov, Frauline Muller?" Foerster asked hopefully.

This "truth" conveniently ticked all the right boxes when presented to the masses. Everyone disliked the Russy Federation. Everyone disliked the Social Democrats. Everyone disliked the Judeans, though not as much as some White Emigres would like. But everyone loved Tanya von Degurechaff. To Serebryakov, however, it took too much agency away from the Judenvolk; presenting the narrative that made the puppetmasters into becoming puppets themselves.

On the surface of this, did the Judeans control the Bolsheviks or did the Bolsheviks control the Judeans?

A distinction has to be made for when this lie gets published on the front page of the newspapers, it will become reality. A reality that Serebryakov must live in until her dying breath. She will be repeating this lie; her peers will be repeating this lie; and most importantly, Degurechaff will have to repeat this lie. Will the Major do it?

Tanya von Degurechaff was the most honorable, most integral, most intelligent, and most caring person Serebryakov has ever met. She was the envy of the entire world. The perfect soldier in all of military history: a demon to her enemies but an angel to her allies, a goddess of war and destruction. Victory was just on the horizon waiting to be grabbed under her vision.

So do the Judeans control the Bolsheviks? Under this revision of reality, not anymore. The enemy created a monster that even they could not control.

Like Frankenstein bringing life to his abomination, the Judeans will pay the price for their hubris for once the Bolsheviks and the Socialists are removed, their reckoning will arrive. The boycott was the first of many.

"I find this story more plausible, and therefore more real, to be made unveiled to the public." Elena smiled, "We have to control the narrative, after all."

"Likewise," Her cousin repeated, "Likewise."

"Herr Zettour, Secretary-General?" Foerster looks towards the Preussians.

"I see no issue with this new understanding." the elder general replied.

"I feel this is the best possible outcome for everyone involved," Lergen answered glumly. "But we must remember that -"

"Yes. Yes." Richter interrupted, dismissing the concerns with a wave of his hand. "Don't kill the Judeans. Degurechaff needs them alive. Keep our guns aimed at Rohr's stormtroopers. We know. We understand."

"Since we now have our justification and strategy, let's discuss the method." Elena Muller announced, sarcasm and scorn dripping in every letter. "Given the current constraints, it is rather unfortunate that I cannot employ my skills to their full extent."

Lergen shifted uneasily in his seat. Is murder the only solution she knows?

"How do we incentivize the Judeans to vote for the DDP during the boycott?" Muller continued innocently as if she was just an idealistic woman entering politics for the first time. "How do we ensure that they will still be incentivized to vote after the boycott?"

"Cut the act." Goering sneered, "We're the ones doing the boycott. Not you. The Judeans will vote for Degurechaff in a heartbeat. Hell, this will be the only opportunity that we can be on common ground with Rohr. Invite him to partake in the boycott and we won't have to worry about his thugs usurping your strongholds since he would be too busy breaking windows and tearing down doors. Bring him into this alliance as the monster for Degurechaff to slay and her victory is assured."

"That does not sound like a good idea…" Romanovy spoke up.

"Is it any worse than relying on Cossacks?" Koenig argued.

"Resistance will inevitably occur." Heydryck pointed out.

"Any Judean that resists will be shot." Class state. "Our Freikorps will claim self-defense."

"Firing upon civilians trying to protect their property and business is self-defense?" Lergen questioned, feeling quite incredulous.

"It is preemptive self-defense," Richter answered with a straight face. "You should know. It's the same excuse the Francois scum pulled on us."

"Should we bring bricks or torches?" Il'in inquired.

"Bricks if they accept the ultimatum to leave their house and shop," Goering said. "Torches if they do not."

"Do you still plan to bring torches after using bricks?" Herr Muller questioned.

"Obviously." The former fighter ace nodded. "Torches are good for light and intimidation."

"Just don't burn the people you are trying to intimidate," Weiss warned.

"Don't worry. The smoke will drive them out."

"Can I say something?" Lergen protested. "Is there no other way we can articulate our frustration towards the current circumstances our nation has found itself in? No way to articulate our worry for Degurechaff's health?"

"We intend to articulate our disdain towards the Social Democrats and Judean involvement in the most unambiguous terms possible. Twice." Serebryakov spoke callously, her words made of solid, scarred iron, iron that showed cold determination and cruel intent. "One to demonstrate what happens to them if they continue to bring harm to Germania and our beloved champion and the second to demonstrate what will become of them if they do not support her ascension."

"Twice?" The Secretary-General grew suddenly alarmed. "What do you mean 'twice?'"

"I believe that is out of the scope of our current discussion, Herr Lergen." The White Russy said in a tone that left no room for further argument, a tone that threatened knives and other pointy invasive instruments. Richter and Il'in nodded in agreement before turning to berate the Secretary-General.

"My friends," Zettour spoke up, attempting to calm the room. "Please pardon him. He just wants us to operate in the purview of Argent Silver's interests which I believe we are trying to accomplish to an extent. Let us put the good of the nation above our interests. Once the Judeans see the error of their ways, they will come to be loyal again. And they will."

"They have to." Elena pointed out.

"Those that don't are beyond reason and therefore, beyond saving?" Neumann inquired cautiously.

Zettour nodded.

"We tolerated revolution and treason long enough. It is time for adults to discipline their children."

"I hope this boycott will be enough," Romanovy commented. "So we may not need another."

"So we agree with the method?" Serebyrakov asked, raising her hand as she scanned the room.

Skepticism and restraint gave way to fear. Fear of retaliation as Serebryakov's expression demanded unanimous consent. Everyone else followed her example, though no one shared the same level of enthusiasm, including Lergen; his hand was last raised.

"Take pride, Secretary-General," she stated. "History will vindicate us."

"Since there is no other dissenting voice," Elena glared at Lergen, "We can set the date for the boycott and the operations in the West before we conclude this meeting."

"Despite how fast news would spread, it will still take time to organize an army. Much less a boycott. November is the earliest we can do both." Heydryck contemplated. "If we publish this news now, in October, it will only cause hysteria as well as give the SPD enough time to deflect all criticism."

"The federal election will only be days off by then," Weiss said. "Will we even be ready?"

"We will." Serebryakov. "We can't afford to disappoint our great leader with sloppy timetables."

"So what is the date?" Goering demanded.

"The remainder of October till the first day of November shall be spent organizing our forces. We need not to tell our soldiers the full story yet. Secrecy is of utmost importance at this time to prevent the Judeans from realizing our actions." Elena explains. "As for the day of action, I selected November 6th when we publicized the news to the wider nation. A five-day window of error for any last-minute adjustments."

"The 6th?" Class repeated. "That's only three days off before the voting booths open."

"Exactly." she winked. "November 6th will be the day the boycott and our cleaning operations in Rhineland and Westphalia begin. The speed of our Freikorps will be paramount in demolishing communist resistance in one fell swoop. Our victory against the Reds and the revelation of Communist involvement in the government will catapult Degurechaff into her office."

"And host an imperial referendum." Class reminded the women. "To bring back the Kaiser."

"Kaiserin." Serebyrakov whispered harshly.

Lergen looked ready to speak again but was quickly silent when Elena continued talking.

"Do not worry of friendly fire, Secretary-General. I have already procured a list - 6,000 names long - of selected individuals of noteworthy status in the KPD who need permanent retirement from politics. Joining the DDP has made the process of identification easier."

"How?" Lergen asked quietly.

"I never got rid of my files since the war ended," she replied with great pride in her voice.

So that's why the SPD was so adamant about tearing down Rudensdorf's spy ring after the War's end.

There was too much confidential knowledge in the hands of a rogue agent.

Lergen paled at the thought.

And now she works for Degurechaff; knowing the Devil, the Reichstag will be noticeably vacant once Muller is given free rein to enact.

"It will be retirement, right?" He pressed forward. "As in they will be alive at the end?"

"Alive long enough," Elena assures.

"Would Degurechaff even appreciate the foresight?" The Secretary-General stood up from his seat once more, setting all eyes on him again. The typist in the corner immediately paused his recording following another gesture by Elena.

"Deal with the reality of your party leader! Whatever-whatever headline you decide to publish in November, it will not stay confined in our borders. Lothiern, Daneland, Pullska, everyone will read the headline - including Degurechaff - and she will not like this. She does not entertain conspiratorial talk. I know her!"

"What do you know of the Major?!" Serebyrakov spat viciously. "You weren't there in the Rhineland, in Norden, in Dacia, in Western Rus, in Flanders, and in the Alps! You weren't there dodging bullets and parrying bayonets by thousands of mages that wish to rip out your organs. You didn't go to bed at night wishing to see sunrise tomorrow. You didn't find yourself mixed in the piss, shit, and mud when stationed in the trench! You didn't find yourself stripped naked and showered in freezing water before being locked in a dark room for hours without end!"

Neumann, Weiss, and Koenig looked thoughtfully at the White Russy as her last words reminded them of the nightmare that was Tanya's training regime. Memories that are best left buried.

"You do not know what you are talking about!" Lergen shouted back, "You are putting words into her mouth!"

"I could say the same thing about you!" she roared. "I DO KNOW-"

"Silence! Both of you." Zettour's voice was thunderous. "Let us not devolve into senseless bickering. Especially you, Serebryakov, control yourself."

One of Visha's eyes twitched in agitation at his scolding while the transcriber resumed his duty.

"Let us be absolutely clear on one thing and one thing only." the Junker stated with steel in his words. "Together, We Dictate Reality. The words that will come from our newspapers will be the new reality that Germania faces to our great political advantage. Push aside your thoughts on what Degurechaff is or isn't. I will speak to her to ensure that she sees the benefits of our decision."

"When the time comes," he continued, "Our political parties, whether DNVP or DDP, all of them, will merge into one political organization. White Russites, Germanians, everyone will march under Degurechaff's banner. Just for everyone here to be notified early."

"And if we refuse?" Goering challenged.

"The only human institution that rejects progress is the cemetery," Elena replied with a soft smile. "I recommend you to not refuse our destiny."

"So we agree?" Zettour asked, leaving no other room for argument. "Any other suggestions?"

"No."

"I see no problem."

"We can proceed."

"Let us just end this council."

"As long as it works as intended."

"Very well." The retired general smiled. "I can safely say our meeting has been concluded and its results…very successful."