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Johan Dressler was the leader of a tiny political party. Before he even entered politics, though, he was a man with many friends. Those friends, in turn, had many friends of their own. The efforts of this personal network combined with the meager influence offered by his position allowed him to secure a meeting with Erich von Lergen within a week of making the effort to do so.

The leader of the Germanian Republic's military had an office that was modest for one of his status. The tasteful decorations called to mind the rumors of his academic nature. A single file folder occupied his desk, although the bookshelf along the wall that bulged with paperwork offered a more accurate glimpse into his workload. The man himself sat behind the desk with his hands folded in front of him, greeting Johan with a polite nod.

"Thank you for agreeing to see me."

"It's my duty to keep the civilian government apprised of the state of our armed forces, such as they are," Lergen replied, offering him a thin smile. "Coffee?"

Johan declined the offer as he took a seat in front of Lergen's desk. The opening statement was a polite request for Johan to get to the point. The military of the Republic was a small fraction of the military of the Empire. Even that numerical comparison overstated the strength of the Republic. The number of artillery pieces and armored units were restricted by treaty while aerial mages had been prohibited altogether. Beyond that, the severe budget constraints faced by the Republic limited the money available to provision and train the few troops they were allowed to have.

In other words, there was no real reason to press for a discussion of military readiness unless one wanted to hear in detail how the Republic could be crushed by the solitary efforts of any one of its neighbors, excluding the newly created nations carved out of the Empire that suffered under the same restrictions. While Lergen had gained his position largely by virtue of being the highest ranking member of Central Command remaining after the victors purged the top ranks at the end of the war, the man was smart and well-connected. Wasting his time was not something to be done lightly.

"I actually have a question about a personnel matter," Johan said. "Tanya von Degurechaff."

Lergen flinched. The slight but noticeable crack in his composure gave Johan hope that he was on the right track.

"Can you tell me anything about her?"

Johan hadn't expected much when he introduced himself to Tanya von Degurechaff. A simple endorsement from a famous war hero that would attract a few more veterans to the party was a more than fair exchange for a bit of beer money. Instead he had somehow acquired a dedicated advocate. The strangest thing about it was that for all of the vigor she displayed on stage and all of the work she was obviously putting into her preparations, he couldn't help but get the impression in their personal conversations that she didn't feel any real passion for the party's ideology.

There was a famous saying about gift horses and mouths, but there was another saying about Trojan Horses. It seemed unlikely that she could actually have been dispatched on some hidden agenda-the Germanian Workers' Party was honestly beneath the notice of somebody capable of recruiting the famed Argent Silver for a covert operation-but Johan had always been a careful man. The least he could do was seek out information from those who knew her well in order to shed some light on her motivations.

Lergen, having recovered his equilibrium, raised an eyebrow at the question. "Surely her exploits are public knowledge."

"It's hard to separate rumor from fact," Johan replied. "Especially in a time of war."

His own knowledge of Miss Degurechaff came from Imperial propaganda. He had no doubt that she was an effective soldier but he knew from experience that government publications would rarely print the unvarnished truth.

"Tanya Degurechaff. Graduated from Officer Candidate School at age nine. Second in her class. First saw combat in Norden during the opening moments of the war. Her actions that day made her an ace and earned her the Silver Wings Assault Badge. She was transferred to the Rhine front as part of the initial wave of reserves intended to blunt the invasion. She became ace of aces in a matter of weeks, a status she was to hold throughout the war. Once the front was stabilized she was recalled to attend War College," Lergen said. "Upon graduation and until the end of the war she was in the thick of the fighting. The details of her accomplishments are still classified. Suffice it to say, even if you only count battles against enemy Named she is easily an ace many times over. At present she has been discharged from the military in compliance with the Treaty of Triano."

"The most powerful aerial mage in the world," Johan said. Lergen's calm recitation of facts had the ring of truth. Perhaps the propaganda need not be discounted so much as he thought.

"Honestly, just saying that sells her a bit short. She graduated from War College as one of the twelve knights, earning the right to call herself Tanya von Degurechaff. Her teachers were unanimous in praising her mastery of tactics, strategy, and logistics," Lergen replied. "I can personally attest that her ability to predict the course of a battle and her ability to predict the course of the war bordered on the supernatural."

"Not just a peerless fighter but also a military genius," Johan said, taken aback. Lergen was famous as a military thinker and as a calm, reserved individual. For him to heap so much praise on a single person was shocking. It almost sounded like the propaganda had understated matters.

"If God ever made a perfect Imperial soldier it was on the day she was born," Lergen said. He sounded resigned rather than jubilant. For the Empire to suffer to defeat despite the efforts of splendid soldiers like Degurechaff must have been frustrating.

"It's a pity she is no longer permitted to serve in the military," Johan said. He was feeling rather pleased. It seemed the army's loss would be his party's gain. Even better was that to all appearances she was a genuine free agent.

"Yes..." Lergen said, trailing off for a moment before his gaze sharpened. "What was it that brought her to your attention?"

"I asked for her endorsement and she's taken it upon herself to become a very driven supporter of my political party," Johan said. "It made me curious about what kind of person she is. I suppose it's natural for someone talented to rise through the ranks at any organization."

Johan might have been imagining it, but Lergen's face seemed to pale at his comment. Something must have disturbed the man, as he reached into a drawer under his desk and withdrew a cut crystal decanter and a matching pair of glasses. He poured a finger's worth of amber liquid into each glass before sliding one across the table.

Johan picked up his glass and took a sniff before raising an appreciative eyebrow. He didn't hold much truck with the Francois, but they could make a strong spirit when they put their minds to it.

"You served in the army," Lergen said, holding his own glass up and idly swirling it as he spoke. "You must have known someone who you considered to be the ideal soldier."

Johan nodded. The sergeant in charge of his first platoon had been a demon on the training field. For a long time he had hated the man. Then they were ambushed during a routine border patrol. While the green troops stood frozen in fear the sergeant had charged forward. Johan would never forget the man's laughter as he disappeared in a cloud of gunsmoke.

In the end, the man had sent a whole enemy platoon to flight. When the Empire refused to issue a medal for what it dubbed a routine border incident it was the first time Johan ever questioned the wisdom of the Imperial government.

"Imagine you could take all of those soldierly virtues and stuff them into a nine year old girl," Lergen continued. Johan felt his stomach sink as he tried to imagine that sergeant in the body of a small child, let alone a little girl. "Imagine you then put that girl through eight years of warfare and military training. What do you suppose she would be like at the end of all that?"

Johan couldn't help but wince. Put like that, it almost sounded like whatever came out at the end of the process would barely be a human being. He took a drink from the glass in his hand, finding some comfort in the burn in the back of his throat.

"We gave Tanya von Degurechaff the name Argent Silver, but our enemies had their own name for her," Lergen said, tossing back his own drink before setting his glass down with a solid thud. When he leaned forward the calm, rational leader of the Republic's armed forces seemed to have been replaced by an ancient prophet. "The Devil of the Rhine."

ooOoo

Johan Dressler was not a particularly religious man. He did not subscribe to the extreme atheist notions of the communist party, but his attendance at church was sporadic and he rarely resorted to prayer. In the weeks following his meeting with Erich von Lergen he didn't experience any particular change in his belief in God. He did, however, begin to believe in the devil.

Tanya von Degurechaff never showed any of the hesitation of a novice to public speaking. She combined blistering invective and calls for national unity with aplomb. She described the inevitability of victory in a rematch of the great war in such a matter of fact fashion that Johan found himself regretting that he was too old to reenlist. Before her speeches he could sit down, do the analysis, run the numbers, and prove to his own satisfaction that Germania would be crushed even in a war with only the Republic of Francois. But once she got going he would inevitably find himself thinking "ah, but things might be different with Degurechaff in charge."

The mesmerizing effect of her utter conviction accounted for much of the improved attendance at Germanian Workers' Party events. The rest was explained by the fact that the speeches themselves were masterfully crafted for public consumption. Punchy language and accessible imagery managed to take a party platform that Johan himself would admit could be somewhat dry and wordy and turn it into a rallying cry for the common man.

Lergen had found her already a perfect soldier at nine. Johan was finding her already a perfect politician at seventeen. Even knowing that mages tended to mature early it still sent a shiver down his spine.

Johan could feel his grip on the party slipping away with every speech. Interest in the party had been stagnant but Degurechaff was bringing in new supporters hand over fist. The inner circle of the party was still made up of his men. He had brought them into politics and carefully nurtured their development. Even so, they were naturally competitive people who wanted to win. If they came to believe that Degurechaff was more likely to lead the party to success than he was then they would naturally want her in charge. They would of course judge such a thing with a thumb on the scale in favor of their old friend but Johan couldn't say how long he would come out ahead of Degurechaff even with such an advantage.

He might not have been so bothered if it weren't for his lingering doubts about her ideological leanings. She promoted his beloved socialism-quite effectively, truth be told-but it was obvious that her true passion lay in throwing off the shackles of Triano. That and her hatred of the Francois. He wondered sometimes if her true motivation was not ideological at all but rather a burning desire to take revenge on the foes who had defeated her beloved fatherland.

It seemed ridiculous on the face of it. Surely someone like Degurechaff had more direct paths available to her if she wanted to exercise power over the direction of the country. But if she truly desired to take the country's strength entirely into her own hand and thrust it like a dagger into the heart of the Francois... perhaps she would have to begin by taking over a small political party and remolding it in her own image before conquering the hearts and minds of the voters. Such a plan would require meticulous planning, political genius, and an iron will to see it through to completion.

It was ridiculous even after further consideration. And yet, when Johan remembered the expression on Erich von Lergen's face during their discussion, when he watched a rapt crowd hanging on Degurechaff's every word... he found that he couldn't dismiss the idea out of hand.

Would it really be so bad? Johan had been a soldier. Though he had no love for the Francois, he knew the terrible cost of war. Even so, if she could do it... if the cost of political victory was a victorious war... if his political ideals were to be promoted atop a mountain of foreigners' corpses... would it really be so bad?

He had trouble sleeping, some nights.

Matters came to a head when the damned Communists decided to crash one of their gatherings. Johan had spent years denouncing their evil creed and had never received anything other than contemptuous silence in response. Tanya von Degurechaff had rattled the reds badly enough after two months that they had sent a group of thugs to shut her up. Then, faced with a group of men that should have been able to raise a ruckus if not carry the day, she had smashed them all into the ground with ease.

Afterwards came the conversation he had been dreading for a while. She wanted to talk about her place in the party. She also, in a less than subtle move, had a friend that she wanted to bring along with her into the party's inner circle.

Johan took a moment to examine this Viktoriya Serebryakov. It might seem odd to add a Russite to an anti-communist party, but he knew that the former Empire was riddled with Russite refugees whose hatred for communism ran bone deep. The more concerning thing about this girl was her background. No member of Degurechaff's inner circle could possibly be a simple person. Her soft features and friendly smile might still have aroused Johan's protective instincts if he hadn't just watched her manhandle a communist brawler into helpless unconsciousness.

He turned his attention back to Degurechaff. It was only natural that she would want added influence in the party's inner ranks to match the supporters that she was bringing in to its fringes. This move was a little sudden, but he shouldn't have been surprised. A winner of the Silver Wings Assault Badge was of course not someone to sit back and endlessly calculate options. Rather, when she saw the chance for decisive victory she would act to seize it with all due haste.

And it would be a decisive victory. His own men had already been falling under her influence before the day's rousing victory. His own party had already been expanded well beyond its old limits by her efforts. Her star was clearly on the rise. There was nothing for him to do but smile, act with grace, and attempt to preserve some measure of influence.

"Naturally, I believe your proper role would be to take over as chairman of the party."

Her eyes widened in a remarkable facsimile of surprise. "But what about you?"

"I will remain on the executive committee. I can take charge of drafting the party platform," he said. His smile grew a little more natural. "In truth, I won't miss the administrative duties."

She drew herself up to a parade ground perfect posture of attention. "In that case, I shall do my best to bring glory to the party! And victory to the fatherland!"

In his heart, Johan Dressler could admit to himself that had the devil approached him and asked if he would sell his soul to ensure the success of the party, he would have been tempted. No, he almost certainly would have accepted.

Even so, whenever he saw Tanya von Degurechaff from that day forward a small regret would tug at the back of his mind. He would never voice it out loud. Still, it was always there.

He just couldn't help but wish that he had been told ahead of time before he entered into that kind of transaction.

That Johan Dressler was a crafty one. Upon seeing that my strategy was successful he managed to push all the work of implementing it off on to me. I'd also have to shoulder the blame if things went wrong. On the other hand, if things went well he'd still be writing the party platform and control a majority on the executive committee. If my new position was the CEO, then he was the Chairman of the Board sitting in judgment of my performance.

I didn't mind. I never expected to be put straight into the catbird seat. I was confident in my strategy. And, in the mean time, the position did come with some perks. The most notable of these was control over the party's cash reserves.

Other than a basic operating budget, I converted most of our money into hard assets. Inflation was already high. Though it hadn't yet spiraled out of control, to somebody who knew the relevant economic history the signals were already there. If Germania was lucky then inflation wouldn't reach truly crushing levels for a few years, but until then it would be doing nothing but increasing. In that kind of situation holding onto a big pile of marks was foolish.

The most notable investment was the new party headquarters. An old manor house on the outskirts of Berun, the building was easily modified to hold a whole wing of office space, a few lovely conference rooms, and several apartments. Visha and I had taken one of the apartments for ourselves. It was convenient for work and after spending so long together on the battlefield we got along just fine as roommates.

It was a relief to be out of the orphanage. While I'd take charity if I needed it, I felt better when I could stand on my own two feet. Also, Sister Margaret was getting rather insistent in her talks with me about the manifold benefits of joining a nunnery. I counted myself fortunate to have nipped that in the bud.

The new party headquarters also had a detached carriage house. I'd had most of the internals removed. In time this would serve as our party's print shop. For now, though, it made for a convenient meeting place.

I entered the carriage house with Visha at my shoulder. The building was lit by a few flickering lanterns, supplemented by the moonlight streaming in through the windows. Three men were sitting inside on packing crates, engrossed in casual conversation. When I stopped in front of them and cleared my throat they all jumped to attention.

"Major!"

"Relax," I said, chuckling, "we're all civilians now."

I took a moment to look them over. Weiss, Koenig, and Neuman. My company commanders from the 203rd and three of the finest aerial mages in the world. The three of them were all enrolled in training for careers as magic professionals when Visha tracked them down. Weiss was working to become a doctor, while Koenig and Neuman were looking to get into engineering.

It was something I'd considered for myself. The problem was that just as becoming an aerial mage meant training to be a soldier, become a magical doctor required a medical degree and becoming a magical engineer required engineering school. Other careers had similar requirements. Some of the skills would cross over, but not nearly enough to just show up on the new job ready to work. Going through advanced retraining required family support for tuition fees and living expenses.

The three men in front of me were fortunate to have that kind of support. I was honestly a little surprised they were willing to consider abandoning such safe career paths when I was making such a lousy job offer. I figured they were hearing me out for old times' sake.

"Thank you all for coming," I said. "As you know, I have recently become the chairman of the Germanian Workers' Party. Our chief aims are to end the treaty of Triano and to provide a social safety net for Germanian citizens."

I waited a moment to see if there were any questions. As there were none, I continued.

"Our more immediate goal is to deal with the Communists who have started harassing our get-togethers. They aren't more than half-trained rabble, but there are a lot of them and I can't be everywhere," I said. "I need some quality fighters who can smash those commies flat without regard to their numbers."

There was a long pause before Neuman spoke up.

"Are we... suitable for that sort of thing?"

I raised an eyebrow. "Did I train any useless mages?"

Neuman coughed. "Of course, I don't mind a scrap. But to wade through a whole mob is a little much after turning in my computation orb."

Weiss jumped in at that point. "Did you stash away some Type-97s?"

I smiled at his eagerness even as I shook my head. I could sympathize. I felt a real same sense of loss when I had been required to turn in my own trusty Type-97 computation orb upon being discharged from the military. For an aerial mage the computation orb represents safety, freedom to travel, and self-defense all in one convenient package. The only solace I had at the time that I gave it up was that I was able to rid myself of the cursed Type-95 as well.

"Even if I did, I couldn't just hand those out like K-brot. Flashing a military grade orb around in public is a bad idea right now," I said. "That said, I've always felt that the mage is more important than the equipment. Consider the Junghans Mark Three."

The Junghans Mark Three computation orb. It was a class C device, or in other words a computation orb capable of handling the mana output of a class C mage. Primarily intended for fine engineering, it was capable of a degree of precision that actually exceeded most military grade orbs. Unfortunately, in addition to the low mana ceiling, it lacked the redundancy and safety features needed for military applications. Fortunately, it wasn't like I needed to rely on it while charging into artillery fire or anything like that.

I held the orb up for them to see and focused. This was going to be tricky. The traditional distinction between Class B and Class C mages was that Class B mages can fly. It was ingrained to the point that people often referred to Class B and Class A computation orbs collectively as "flight-capable." If you got down into the details, though, flight was technically possible without exceeding the Class C mana ceiling. In theory.

Bringing theory into practice had cost me weeks of hard work and several burnt out computation orbs. I couldn't keep the smile off my face as my feet lifted gently off the ground and the sensation of standing was replaced with the comfortably familiar sensation of hovering in place in midair. While I had been practicing with this moment in mind, getting the chance to fly again had been a much appreciated side benefit.

Inside the computation orb the flight spell was a masterpiece that only I would ever see. I had never honed a spell to this level of mana efficiency before. I didn't usually need to conserve mana with my capacity and in combat the ability to pour on power on demand was far more important than absolute efficiency. It was a pleasant to surprise to find that when I put my mind to it I was able to pare away absolutely every nonessential component to the spell and rig the remaining pieces together in a workable balance.

Reduced as the spell was, I wouldn't be able to fly any faster than a brisk jog. Even so, the spell was straining at the very limits of what the computation orb could handle. I hovered in place long enough to bask for a moment in my audience's shock, then eased off the power and floated back down to the ground. As soon as I landed I tossed the orb over to Weiss.

"I don't expect you oafs to fly, but a basic speed and strength enhancement should be possible. Perhaps a defensive screen as well," I said. "More than enough to handle some communist thugs, right?"

"Yes!" Weiss replied, still staring at the computation orb in his hand, as were Koenig and Neuman. I waited for a moment before giving up and clearing my throat to get their attention.

"I'm looking to hire capable mages to form the core of the new security auxiliary to the Germanian Workers' Party," I said. "The pay is mediocre, although you will enjoy an influential position within the party."

The three men turned to look at each other. I could imagine what they were thinking. They were on track now for lucrative, if ordinary, careers. On the other hand, they would naturally gravitate towards a more combative line of work. It was closer to what they had been doing and they already knew they excelled. Even if the money wasn't good, the prospect of accruing political influence in the future wasn't a bad substitute.

It was tempting to leave things at that, but I didn't want to lure anybody in under false pretenses.

"I should warn you that the party's platform is quite extreme. It's unlikely that we'll ever see an election where we win enough votes to implement our policies," I said. "I want to make sure you understand before you make a commitment."

There was a long pause. I couldn't blame anybody who refused. I would count myself lucky if one of them signed up.

"I'm in!" announced Weiss.

"Me too," Neuman added.

"I suppose I should join as well," Koenig said.

Well. A battle maniac was a battle maniac to the end. Honestly, I didn't think it's a bad deal for them. I'd be looking out for them, and if the military ever got out of that stupid treaty restriction then they'd have a head start on joining back up.

I smiled as if I had expected their reaction, then tossed computation orbs to Neuman and Koenig. Visha already had hers.

"Start with one spell at a time. Any orbs that explode will come out of your pay," I said. "If you're having trouble come see me for a special training session."

They all flinched at that. Honestly. I didn't even have access to artillery any more.

ooOoo

Mattheus Weiss managed to wait until the Major closed the door behind her before he started poking at the new computation orb. The initial look didn't reveal too many differences between this orb and the orbs he'd used before. Shrugging, he called up his mana and fed it into the spell formula for strength enhancement.

Almost immediately the orb began to overheat while warning messages rang out in his consciousness. Weiss yanked his mana back from the device with a hiss.

"Shit!" he said, barely restraining the urge to chuck it across the room before calming himself down enough to perform a safety check. "This piece of junk damn near exploded from a single enhancement."

"What did you expect? It's class C equipment," Koenig said, a tinge of laughter in his voice.

He had a point. While strength enhancement was technically a class D spell, when they used it in order to survive high speed flying acrobatics they easily poured in more mana than a class C mage could handle. Weiss was going to have to retrain his instincts as well as restrict his spell repertoire in order to use this new orb. Still, even if Koenig had a point there was no need to just take his ribbing.

"I just watched someone fly with this thing," Weiss replied. It was only natural to expect a flight capable orb to handle a basic strengthening formula.

"The Major is the Major," Koenig replied with a shrug.

That drew nods all around. The members of the 203rd had learned early on that it was pointless to measure themselves against their commanding officer's capabilities. While this particular example was more subtle than the artillery barrages he'd seen her unleash during the war, the same principle applied.

For the next little while silence filled the cavernous room as they focused on their work. While nobody came close to destroying their computation orb, nobody seemed to be having any immediate success putting them to work, either.

"Do you think she's serious?" Neuman asked, glancing between the other three as he broke the silence. "About taking over without being elected, I mean."

Weiss hesitated. When Serebryakov found him and told him the Major was fighting on a new battlefield, he naturally wanted to follow behind her. To be so bluntly told that they would someday fight their way through Berun to seize power had given him pause. On the other hand, the Major wasn't the kind of officer to throw away her subordinates' lives in the pursuit of glory.

"I don't think she'll do anything illegal," Serebryakov said. As expected, she was quick with a good word for the Major.

"Of course everything will be nice and legal," Koenig said, chuckling. "The Major is the Major."

That brought winces from everybody else. The Major's ability to dance around the laws of war was rivaled only by her ability to dance through the sky under enemy fire. Over the course of years and years of an increasingly desperate war Weiss had seen too many things he'd rather forget.

Even so, no matter how he looked at it, Major von Degurechaff was somebody who was willing to do whatever it took to win. That attitude, and the ability to back it up, were both badly needed by their country right now.

"If anybody can put the Empire back together, she can," Weiss said. "If elections stop that, then what good are they?"

"After six years following her through hell," Koenig said, shrugging, "why not follow her through the Reichstag?"

Neuman hesitated only briefly before he nodded in agreement. "I always liked having an Emperor, anyways."

None of them bothered to look to see what Serebryakov thought. Forget charging into hell, if the Major led an assault on the Gates of Heaven then she would be right there by her side raining artillery spells on the heavenly host.

ooOoo

With physical security sorted out I was free to turn my attention to the campaign trail. Of course, there was no election pending. The Germanian Republic had a four year period between elections. If the governing coalition fell apart then elections could happen earlier, but if such a thing were to happen then forty-five days would be allotted for campaigning before the vote took place. Typically, serious campaigning would be limited to the period of the months before the election. In other times party activities would be aimed at recruiting volunteers and impressing hyper-partisans.

Presumably people also used this time to govern, but my party didn't have much to do with the actual exercise of power.

When Dressler ceded the chairmanship to me there were a little more than three years to go before the next scheduled election. The current common sense said that a voter would not be swayed by a campaign event years and years ahead of the vote. Even if the voter were persuaded they would be re-persuaded over and over again before making their final decision. I couldn't argue with that. On the other hand, the purpose of early campaigning for me was not to lock in actual votes, but rather to raise brand awareness.

The Germanian Workers' Party was tiny. For most voters the first time they heard of us would be when they saw the party name on the ballot. Under that kind of circumstance we could hardly expect anybody to take a leap of faith and blindly choose to vote for us. Accordingly, the goal of my efforts was to convey two very simple messages. First, we exist. Second, if you really hate the treaty of Triano then you should vote for us.

We didn't have nearly enough money for a mass media campaign. Forget putting ads on newsreels nationwide, we couldn't even afford radio or even newspaper ads in any kind of quantity. Luckily for us paper, ink, and shoe leather were cheap and Germania still had an excellent rail system. After a little bit of trial and error we hit on a reasonably effective method.

The advance team of barely paid volunteers would visit our target city or town a week ahead of time. They'd invest most of their efforts putting posters up wherever it looked like they would be seen without being torn down. Or at least where they would be seen before they were torn down. The posters had a stylized drawing of me that was easy to reproduce and announced the time and place that I would be speaking. Other than putting up the posters the advance team would find good-sized public gatherings and pass out as many handbills as they could.

On one side of the handbill was a political cartoon. We rotated between a few, but the general tone was always anti-Francois. The other side gave a little sample of our sales pitch.

TANYA DEGURECHAFF AND THE GERMANIAN WORKERS' PARTY DENOUNCE THE TREATY OF TRIANO: _ p.m. on _ at _

The Treaty of Triano is illegal: The Legadonia Entente started the war based on a territorial dispute. Under the Treaty of Worms the final settlement of a war must relate to the initial casus belli.

The Treaty of Triano is unjust: Napoleon drowned the world in blood as he attempted to put Europe under the yoke of tyranny. When he was defeated the Francois nation was left intact. The Germanian nation expanded according to international law and was dismembered in a fit of pique by the Francois.

The Treaty of Triano is dangerous: The Germanian people have been left vulnerable to conquest by any would-be master of Europe. If the Treaty of Triano is left in place then we will surely suffer another invasion in due time.

THE GERMANIAN WORKERS' PARTY IS THE ONLY PARTY THAT WILL RENOUNCE THE TREATY OF TRIANO WITHOUT RESERVATION

This world did not have access to google or wikipedia. Collecting pithy arguments against the treaty of Triano for people to reference would help them articulate their discontent. Slapping our party's name all over the same piece of paper should help them remember that we exist.

The fatal flaw in all of the arguments, of course, was that even if the treaty was awful it didn't mean that starting a suicidal war was a good idea. In all honesty, I was doing the country a service by scooping up the voters who couldn't figure out that kind of thing and keeping them from voting for some bloodthirsty maniac.

With the ground thus prepared, I would come to town on the appointed date along with another team tasked with passing out flyers and brochures describing our party platform. Once a crowd gathered-or it became embarrassingly obvious that no crowd would be gathering-I would launch into what was becoming a reasonably well honed stump speech.

Of course, I always began with a discussion of the main issue of the day.

"The Treaty of Triano is a disgrace!"

I often brought a copy of the treaty with me. Depending on the venue I could set it on fire, tear it to pieces, or do something more creative.

I would then segue into a discussion of our domestic policies. People would remember the fire and bombast, but talking about meat and potatoes issues helped keep up the facade that I was some kind of serious politician.

"The duty of our government is to look out for the common man. If a good Germanian can't find work through no fault of his own, can we simply turn our back and let him die in the street?"

I usually found time to work in some discussion my pet issues.

"The fiscal policies of the current government are the height of foolishness. If this keeps up we will be using bank notes for wallpaper!"

And, of course, I had a unifying theme.

"What do we see when we dare to peer behind the curtain? Every time, the grasping hand of the Francois Republic! They are a dying nation. They can't keep up with the modern world. So they swindle, they deceive, and they enlist the aid of other countries to press us down and steal the fruit of our labors!"

The overall results could most fairly be described as mediocre. I certainly wasn't filling stadiums with cheering crowds. That said, I was out there every day speaking to groups that usually numbered at least twenty people, and most of them cheered when I delivered my applause lines. How many of those people would remember me a month later? I couldn't say.

The lack of proper opinion polling was frustrating. Any employee prefers to work in an environment where they can measure the results of their efforts. At least in the military I could compare my results against mission objectives, although that started to get a little depressing by the end. Doing campaign appearances without any kind of voting afterward just left things in limbo.

The most satisfying rallies were actually the ones where the communists tried to disrupt us. Weiss and the rest had gotten the hang of using commercial orbs for physical enhancements, so they were able to work with some of our burlier volunteers to make quick work of the "red army." If there's anything more satisfying than punching communists in the face it's delegating the work to somebody else so that you can watch them be punched in the face more efficiently.

With Weiss, Koenig, and Neuman fully on board we were also seeing a steady trickle of former members of the 203rd showing up to join the security auxiliary. It strained our finances a little bit to take them on board, but I figured it was worth it to have more capable aerial mages under contract. We were starting to have a fairly formidable force under our command if we could ever get hold of proper computation orbs.

The big news came seven months into my brand awareness campaign: the four parties that made up the coalition government had had a big falling out. An election was scheduled as required by the constitution. I had one more month to do everything I could before my efforts would be evaluated whether I was ready or not.