pirated stuff

"We shouldn't accept this." Visha protested, even as she still handed me the letter. At least she wasn't scared of speaking her mind. Having an honest advisor was an invaluable boon for a leader.

"There's no reason to fear the contents of this message," I assured her.

A letter written by Heimal Schalge? Leader of the Germanian Democratic Party? Sign me up! This could not have come at a better time. I was still debating on whether or not to disband Freikorps Degurechaff. We were down to only five members: myself, Visha, Koenig, Neumann, and Weiss.

I wanted them to return to the Weimar Republic to resume their civilian careers, but the Battle of Osby had reawakened the bloodlust in their hearts. They wanted to stay and follow my every lead.

Quickly ripping open the envelope and devouring the words written on the paper within, my heart immediately jumped to the moon. This was it! My break for my current hardship: a chance to become President of Germania! Since I wouldn't be the head of government, I could relax and be surrounded by amenities without needing to burden myself with the intricacies of bureaucracy.

Just rubber stamp Schalge's proposals and live an easy life being the poster girl. While it would be prudent to know more about the party leader, I believe I know a sufficient amount about his movement. Protecting the new republic, ensuring economic mobility, and guaranteeing individual rights? The DDP was right up my alley.

He wanted a meeting in Hamburg, which was fair enough. The city was one of the most liberal-minded centres of the former Empire, save for Lubeck, Bremen, and Amstreldam. The distance was too far off from Malmo: as much as I wanted to fly straight to the port city, aerial mages were still banned, so opted to take the train instead.

Visha, meanwhile, still looked skeptical. No doubt she had some concerns with the Schalge; the man was an anomaly to her. Ironically, for being a decorated war veteran who saw death and caused it on a regular basis, she acted like a subordinate given the opportunity to climb the corporate ladder: intimidated and mystified by the prospect.

The DDP party leader was smart in getting me on board: not only were we ideologically compatible, we also had traits the other needed. Schlage had the political connections to make the prospect of a female president in Europe a possibility, while I had the fame and recognition that could pull voters to his party like flies to honey.

However, I had only a year before the next election to prepare and jumpstart the Republican movement. If Imperial Nostalgia was pervasive in a half-decent country like Daneland, no doubt it was a hundred times more potent in Germania. They were stuck in a traditionalist mindset, and I would have to smash their rose-tinted glasses to get them to wake up from their self-imposed misery.

Democracy could only work if people wanted it to work.

Sharing the news with my three company commanders revealed similar sentiments as Visha. I suspected they were raised in old-fashioned households who were dedicated voters of the defunct Deutschkonservative Partei. Since the DDP was formed out of the remnants of the National Liberal movement, it was like I was asking them to wear Francois uniforms.

Using the Socratic method to prevent their heads from jumping to conclusions, I focused on breaking them away from this mindset just once. Yes, Germania is polarized. Yes, the Social Democrats and the Liberals signed the Treaty of Triano. But consider the alternative: did we really have a choice in the matter?

Surrounded on all fronts by encroaching armies, the Treaty of Triano was the best chance of preserving what was left of the Empire. If it weren't for President Hoovy, the Francois Republic would have had the River Rhine as their new border while the Soviet flag would have been raised over Warsawa. It was better to have your house demolished than to get evicted. In a disaster, a man with property could always rebuild, but someone homeless was doomed to stay on the streets, wandering aimlessly for alms.

The warmongers in the DkP would sooner let us be conquered by our neighbors and partitioned by the West and the East in order for the Germanian people to find glory in death. No, thank you! There was more honor - not to mention comfort - in being alive and recovering.

"You really want to work with the new system?" Weiss asked, still unsure of himself.

"Have faith." I answered, "It is that simple: having faith in the future and in ourselves. We were lions led by donkeys in Berun during the Great War. This is a chance for the people of Germania to dictate their fate on their own terms."

"Faith." He repeated the word as if it was a new flavor of ice cream. "But what about his majesty?"

"The Kaiser? Who needs him anyway? This country is long overdue for a leadership that governs for the people."

"Like you?" Neumann looked at me with bright eyes. Everyone in the room immediately jumped in on the idea. Visha looked ready to pounce on me like a shark for some odd reason.

"Relax, I would just be President. Schalge gets to become the Chancellor if the DDP wins but don't be alarmed, we're just going to hear out his proposal first. I wouldn't bring you guys in to follow someone who doesn't have a good head on his shoulders."

That seemed to placate my four followers for the moment. Once I was done saying my goodbyes to Ugar and Stromming, we would make our way down south to Hamburg.

For their last night in Malmo, Argent Silver's four most loyal followers gathered around the table for a night of drinking. Though they were free to indulge to their hearts' content, everyone drank in moderation. Perhaps too moderate, given the strange looks the waitress was sending them.

But to Visha, Neumann, Koenig, and Weiss, the war had still not left them. Traveling north to Skaneland, the Battle of Osby, serving under Tanya; it was as if the war had never ended in 1931. Speaking of which…

"The rumors were true after all." Weiss broke the silence, looking at his fireforged comrades. "Our commander's ambitions for taking over the Republic."

"But why the Germanian Democratic Party? The Germanian National People's Party are the loudest supporters for the return of the monarchy." Neumann countered, "It seems contradictory."

"It is most likely due to the fact they're old-fashioned," Koenig stated. "They want to bring the Kaiser out of exile. The DDP is one of the few progressive enough to entertain the idea of a female leader."

"But they are an anti-monarchist group." Neumann waved his hands. "It still doesn't explain why Tanya chose them."

"Perhaps that is exactly why she picked them," Visha spoke up, her eyes staring a thousand yards ahead. "She wants this to be legal."

The men chuckled before simultaneously lifting up their mugs to take a sip of beer. Tanya was the most skilled jurist they had ever met: compared to finding loopholes in the laws of war, uncovering ways to subvert fragile institutions that the public saw as Francois puppets would be a straightforward affair.

"It makes sense." Weiss grunted, "By winning popular support among the people, Parisee and Londinium won't have a clause to intervene to save Germanian democracy. Especially if a referendum is pushed forward by a liberal party."

"The Americans can't complain either without looking like hypocrites. Unlike Budapestera, we won't need a coup," Visha added. "Yet."

"The Major is the only one who still believes in the Empire. Only she can return us to our former glory." Weiss stated, "Her election will confirm it for the world to see."

"If the Reichstag can't see the people's mandate." Koenig shrugged. "We'll just have to tear down the whole building and replace it with a new one. A Reichstag that's for the people, by the people, of the people."

With that, the small group cheered, clinking their mugs together before downing their contents in one sitting. But that moment of hope was fleeting.

"It won't be an easy fight," Koenig reminded his comrades. "The Kozis are everywhere and will notice the Major taking the throne."

"It's why we have to be with Argent Silver every step of the way," Weiss said, earning everyone's agreement. "We cannot, will not, let Tanya be betrayed again. There's enough vermin roosting in our home."

"Especially that old hag Lutzebuerg…" Visha grumbled bitterly. It was a rare sight for the men to see her so furious but that was because she never showed genuine anger in front of Tanya. "Her and her Kozi ilk…"

"We'll have to address her eventually." Neumann stated.

"No need." The Kievan Russy glared at the bottom of her beer mug. "I have a friend. An exterminator. She'll know what to do with rats."

Heimal Schalge was more imposing than his handwriting would suggest. He was exactly the kind of charismatic and intuitive leader I would expect to lead the Germanian Democratic Party. Not a single thread was out of place in his suit; for a civilian, he was more groomed than some military officers I know. He scrutinized me behind those glasses of his the moment I appeared through the doors of his office. His keen eyes and calm expression reminded me of Lergen whenever he analyzed an after-action report.

Not one to be outdone, I glared back, never breaking contact, as I took a seat in front of his desk. We both broke into a smile before ending the impromptu staring contest. He poured a glass of American Cola for me before placing the cup in my hands. After giving himself a fair share of cola, Schlage got right to business. As expected, his words didn't disappoint.

"Your reputation precedes you, Argent Silver," the economist began. "It is a great honor for me to see that you are considering my proposal. With you by our side, the Germanian Democratic Party is all but guaranteed to succeed in its mission to secure the liberties of the Republic's citizens."

"Please, call me Tanya," I answered with a smile. "The honor is all mine. Truth be told, I was planning to avoid Berun like the plague, but upon seeing your letter and knowing what you stand for… how could I refuse the call to arms?"

Schlage softly laughed.

"This is a very different type of battlefield, I should warn. Your rivals will be the conservatives and your enemies will be the communist rabble-rousers."

"Don't be so quick to assume I would enter this field ignorant. If this is for the future of Germania, I fear neither man nor God when it comes to accomplishing my mission."

"A very admirable attitude. As you are very much aware, it is an attitude that Germania needs right now. Let's face it, President Erbel is a decent man, but he lost too much public goodwill signing the Treaty of Triano."

"He had to." I shrugged my shoulders. "It was either sign the damn treaty or see Germania wiped off the map."

"A true tragedy, but his loss is our gain. We have until next November to campaign for our position, so your presence here could not be more fortuitous."

"Presence? Am I already a member?"

"Don't tell me you came all the way from Daneland just to do window shopping for political parties! Again, I am humbled that you took the time of day to talk with me."

"Please, flattery did not bring me here. Only honor and duty."

"So you accept?"

"Of course." I got up from my seat to extend my hand.

Schlage looked surprised for once.

"You're not going to bother negotiating your place in the party?"

"Herr Schlage, you already know what position in government is worthy of my name. There's only one office to place me in to guarantee the success of the DDP."

"Indeed." He took my hand and shook it. "Now, for the meat and potatoes. As unlikely as we'll see a majority government, I have already taken the precautions to contact like-minded parties to form a Progressive bloc. But with you, you could act as our liaison to the conservatives."

"A consigliere…" I spoke aloud.

The party leader nodded.

"They respect you enough to listen to any proposal you bring forth. We may need to compromise, but if the conservatives could be brought to support our agendas, Germania could finally see a fully-realised government, stable and functioning. We may not get all of our policies enacted but we could at least get the important ones passed through first."

So essentially, I'd become a glorified messenger if I didn't become president of Germania. Not the best outcome, but since I could influence policy more subtly, I might just see a desired outcome brought forth.

"I accept that fallback plan as necessary," I told him. "I can't let my pride get in the way of saving my country."

"These are difficult times." Schlage huffed, emptying his cup. "I suspect it will only get more difficult in the coming years. The reparations will be our biggest obstacle."

"We'll have to pay them somehow."

"It's inevitable. Negotiating for a more lenient repayment plan will be our top priority. The public would not like it but it simply cannot be avoided. Normally, I would send someone of high esteem over to Parisee, but I have a sneaking feeling you will not receive the warmest welcome as a guest."

"Please, I'm not dejected or offended in any capacity for not being wanted by the Francois." I laughed. "Creativity is our best chance to dig our country out of this massive hole."

"Couldn't agree more." Schalge nodded. "Now, about your Freikorps."

"You wish for them to join your party as paramilitary thugs?" I raised an eyebrow.

"Tanya, being harmless is different than being peaceful. Of course, the democratic bloc has its own set of defenders: the Reichsbanner Schwarz-Rot-Gold. Freikorps Degurechaff would be a great addition to protecting our Republican movement."

"Then by all means. Let us combine our strengths into one united front."

"Exactly but first, we will still need to do background checks on your members. It is standard procedure."

"Don't be so quick to paranoia." I raised my hand to refuse his course of action. "I fought with the 203rd for six years during the Great War. I know the men that have served under my command. Their loyalty to Germania is beyond the shadow of the doubt."

"Be that as it may…" Schlage hesitated as I crossed my arms, my expression steely. He sighed. "…Very well, I will hold you to your word. But I expect you to enact your own background checks on any potential recruit seeking to join Freikorps Degurechaff, that is non-negotiable."

His own expression left no room for argument - not that I had any. I simply nodded in agreement and gave a toast to the Germanian Democratic Party and for the health of the Weimar Republic.

Rozaleine Lutzebuerg was old. The grey hairs on her head were all the evidence she needed. Her smooth skin was slowly conquered by lines too deep for a woman of revolutionary zeal. A martyr once said there are decades where nothing happens, and there are weeks where decades happen. Upon reading the latest news coming from the north, Lutzbuerg believed it now more than ever.

The Devil had come home to build a cult.

It was all… unexpected. She was certain that girl, no, that woman would join the fascist scum over at the Germanian National People's Party rather than the Democratic Party. But capitalist scum being capitalist scum, in the end, it did not really matter. The agenda would still have to proceed as scheduled. Once the proletariat had been awoken from their slumber and saw that they'd been led astray, the blond demon would surely be cast out of the continent.

Yet, despite all the animosity Lutzbuerg had towards the Ace of Aces, she also had pity. Pity for the orphan stolen by the corrupt military. Sorrow that she has been tortured by war and forced to become a puppet of the bourgeoisie. In a way, the words that came out of the Devil's mouth were not hers. A victim of brainwashing of the highest order. She needed liberation just as much as the common man who'd been crushed by war profiteers.

But Lutzbuerg had to close her heart to the young woman no matter how much it made her feel like Ulyanov.

Despite all the propaganda of a Marxist Messiah the Soviets in Russ claim him to be, the man was coldhearted and autocratic. She immediately dispelled those traitorous thoughts away. The veteran agitator knew better.

She must close her heart to Tanya, for the good of the party and the people.

Ironic though that Lutzbuerg came from a well-off Judean family in Pullska during the Imperial years and obtained higher education in Zurich while the Argent Silver had no such luxury. By all rights, the Devil should've been the champion of the oppressed masses, but life had a strange way of being poetic.

Regardless, the Kommunistische Partei Deutschlands could not delay any further. With the capitalist scum having obtained their model hero, the Spartacus Movement had to be mobilized in order to win the coming election. The old world must perish for the new to be born.

Suddenly, a knock on the door shook the KPD leader out of her thoughts.

"Comrade Lutzbuerg?" A young feminine voice called out. It was Mareike von Hammerstein, a party adjutant and her protege, who now handed her a letter. "It's from Moskva."

Lutzbuerg's stomach turned. As much as she enjoyed the financial backing of the Russy Federation, she had to let God flip a coin to see if the correspondence would be directly from Comrade Jughashvili or Loria. Much to her chagrin, it was Loria.

She wanted funds and guns.

He wanted Tanya von Degurechaff. Alive. And unspoiled.

She felt her mind ready to burst inside of her skull. How can a man like him be so close to the Red Tsar? There was nothing but bad air surrounding that beast. At this moment, Lutzebuerg would sooner chop off her own arm and deliver it to the Vozhd in Moskva as a tribute than be complicit in another one of Comrade Loria's horrific schemes. It was men like him that destroyed the reputation of the communist movement worldwide.

And yet.

"We must host a worker's conference in Lippe. We need everyone present to plan our campaign strategy."

"Right away, Comrade Lutzebuerg!" Hammerstein disappeared back into her own office to type up the latest memo.

A drunk man's words were a sober man's thoughts.

By that standard, Johan Dressler thought to himself, Julius Rohr was a very drunk man. Give the man a mug of free beer, and he'd talk the ear off of a marble statue. Give him an entire barrel of it, and he'd talk his way to leading a national revolution. It was an extraordinary measure for such an extraordinary era. But make no mistake, Rohr's round face and rounder body hid a mountain of outrage towards capitalism and communism.

Ironic, since much of his rhetoric mirrored Bolshevik tenants: dismantling monopolies, nationalization of land and resources, and a popular revolution to establish a "Nationalist Vanguardist" state. A nation for the workers and soldiers of the Fatherland free of parasitic socialists and communists. Free of the Judean Capitalists that hoard the wealth that rightly belongs to an honest Germanian laborer.

That's why Dressler was here, together with his small following in the Germanian Workers Party.

But he was not alone in this beer hall.

All of the prominent far-right parties were gathered here to soak in Rohr's messages. Like all of them, he was skeptical of his socialist agenda. Unlike most of them, the Germanian Workers Party was too small to have its own freikorps. If Dressler wanted to stop the communists from interrupting his speeches, he needed outside protection.

He needed Rohr's Brownshirts, the Sturmabteilung, the largest of the fascist paramilitary organizations, a legion hundreds of thousands strong.

"Comrades, true sons of Germania, brave fighters for the future of our beloved Fatherland!

"Today, as we must stand as one under the banner of National Vanguardism, we must remember the sacrifices that have brought us to this moment. It is only through our combined unyielding dedication, our blood, and our sweat that we have propelled our vision forward."

Rohr may have been a drunken oaf in Dressler's eyes, but Rohr was the only man who could allow him the opportunity to implement his scientific socialist project on any significant scale. Why, when he brought it up to the brownshirt braggart the first time they met, the man had all but promised to make him the future Reichsminister of Economics.

"We, together with the Sturmabteilung, are the heart and soul of a national union, the Arbeitsgemeinschaft! We will save this country from the calamity and throw off the shackles of the Triano. We shall stand firm against adversity, against tyranny, and against the Judean vermin who sought to weaken our great empire.

"There is no greater time than now to push forth the great agenda! We have the vision, but the national revolution must be enacted! We must push forward with unwavering determination, for our struggle is not merely for power but for a vision—a vision of a new Germania, a strong and united Germania!"

Now the crowd cheered at his words while the leaders idly nodded or clapped in acknowledgement. Dressler stayed silent, weighing in what his rhetoric would apply. Talks of revolution would only drive away potential patronage from the media and industrial magnates - not that Rohr was inclined to accept any offer from the capitalists. The SA had all but sided with the laborers whenever a strike was called, attacking strikebreakers and negotiators with open impunity.

"The value of the worker and the soldier beat within the core of our movement. We envision a society where every worker is valued and where every citizen has a stake in the prosperity of our nation. The SA stands for the people, for the workers, for a better future for all!

"Our role is pivotal, not just in the streets and gatherings, but in shaping the very fabric of our society. We are the guardians of this revolution, and you, its most valued leaders and statement, are entrusted with the responsibility to mold a new order, to instill the values of National Vanguardism into every corner of our Fatherland."

National Vanguardism. The third way to securing Germania's future, Dressler thought to himself. Could it be done? After the 'National' Revolution was secured, what comes next? Would there ever be a time for rest?

"But our duty extends beyond mere ideology. We must be the shield that defends our nation, the bulwark against any threat that dares challenge the destiny of our people. We must grow stronger, more disciplined, and more united, for the SA is the force that will secure the future of our beloved Germania!

"Our dreams are bold, our aspirations high, but through our unity and unwavering commitment to our cause, we shall prevail! Together, as Volksgenossen, as brothers bound by a sacred duty, we march towards a future where the SA stands tall, where our ideals reign supreme, and where our Germania shines as a beacon of hope and strength.

"For the Fatherland!"

Rohr threw up his right arm in a Roman Salute.

"For the Fatherland!" His audience roared back together with the far-right party leaders, throwing up their own right hands in solitude.

Not one to stick out in a crowd, Dressler raised his own arm up in solidarity.

No. There wouldn't be rest. There will never be rest.

As Rohr found himself surrounded by the fascist leaders, Dressler felt compelled to join in on the political pageantry. But that tiny voice in his head urged him to walk away.

The man was far from the ideal candidate: a rabble-rouser, an alcoholic; though a veteran, he was no war hero; and had the face of a brick wall coated with lard. He was not like the Argent Silver, who was chaste and immaculate, the literal poster child of the Empire in all of its might and glory.

He initially wanted to invite her over to join his small Germanian Workers Party but upon reading the news that she joined the Germanian Democratic Party, Dressler only realized how absurd the idea was. She would never join an obscure political organization that espoused a fringe ideology when there are more obvious, safer roads to acquiring power.

"Herr Rohr," he greeted, when it was his turn to shake the SA leader's hand, "You speak the truth tonight. I would like the Germanian Workers Party to be part of this National Vanguardist project. To be part of the Arbeitsgemeinschaft."

Yet the regret never ceased and in his heart, from the lowest pit, Dressler prayed to God to save him from whatever damnation he led his party and himself into.