pirated stuff

------"My cousin has returned safely to Munich bearing roses and chocolates. His parents were proud of his promotion. Hessen will look quite lovely next month.

Your dear friend, Visha, has found a new partner to paint her house walls red. He is erudite, organized, and well-connected in White Russy communities, if eccentric by your standards.

I look forward to you returning to the office and giving him a proper welcome. Only you can get his mind out of the gutter, that charmer. I hope your stay in Pullska has been productive and pleasant.

In addition, your woodsman has returned safely to deliver timber to his village.

Safe Journeys,

Elena Muller"-------

"What are you reading?" asked Rabbi Avidan Lodz, his words laced with curiosity as he approached me.

"My party secretary has been practicing her poetry." I answered plainly before putting away the letter. I contemplated throwing it into a fireplace.

Four months ago, if you'd told me that I would kill a few members of a Judean paramilitary in Konigsberg in self-defense and I would be attending their funerals with their relatives as a result, I would ask you why I would be in Konigsberg in the first place. Despite being dragged into other affairs, it was better than sitting around and waiting for Pilsud to set up a meeting. At least I was productive enough to ingrain myself with the Judean community in the city. Only, it would be in the wrong nation.

That was how I met Rabbi Lodz; he was respected enough among his peers to be asked to carry out the funeral rites. It was certainly awkward meeting the parents, siblings, and spouses of the men I had slain in their neighborhood. I felt dirty still when they accepted my apology and how the whole situation was a gross misunderstanding. I tried to repay my debt to the people by playing the bodyguard to prevent fascist interruptions.

I didn't want to do a disservice by giving an unwanted eulogy and stealing the attention.

"May I ask you a personal question?" the elder asked.

"I cannot stop you from saying it inside your mind." I remarked, "Ask away."

"Why?"

"Why… what?"

"Why do this? Why do all of this?" He said, "Why are you helping us? After what he did to you…"

"Because it is the right thing to do," I replied, "Is it wrong to be charitable and forgiving? I'm sorry, I didn't know basic human decency is frowned upon."

The rabbi smiled softly but I saw the sorrow in his eyes.

"But doesn't this… risk your election chances? We are not well-liked in Germania."

"Rabbit Lodz, please." I huffed, "I have seen men bleed out in the trenches of the Great War; I have seen their bellies torn open and their intestines spilled onto the mud. I heard them cry out for death, for mercy, for water. I have seen men broken by war, their faces mangled and limbs missing, as they crawled their way back home."

I sighed. Even in my dreams, I could still see her face: Mary Sioux. She could've lived a peaceful life, a good life, away from fire and smoke. Even in death, I still felt her hate, her sorrow, and her overwhelming shock.

"I am not afraid of losing an election. I will have opportunities to try again using methods more successful and assuring. But to tell a more cynical truth: I need the Judean vote for my party."

"Do your fellow party members share a similar sentiment?"

"They're adults. They know better. I trained them myself," I answered. "We knew when the war was lost."

For a while, we both said nothing as we sat and watched the people pay their last respects to the coffin of Karl Golan, the man who stuck a pistol to Foerster's head and found a knife sticking into his throat. For a man who survived the Great War, it was a cruel fate: being killed by another veteran from the same country.

For his own good, Foerster better keep his mouth shut when he returns to the DNVP about what happened.

"When do you plan on heading back?" Rabbi Lodz said suddenly.

"As soon as I am done organizing a conference with the President. Though at this point, I am ready to accept a letter to deliver back to Berun."

It was surprising how fast October was coming to a close. Germania's election day was set to arrive in 28 days and only now did I get a chance to meet Moscic in four days. So many things have already gone wrong during my stay here in Pullska. First, Moscic's government had collapsed, and although he'd managed to hold onto power, his party now only held a minority in the Pullskan parliament, the Sejm. Without a miracle, Moscic would surely get kicked out of office in the upcoming Pullskan election. To make matters worse, under Francois pressure, Warschau had been engaged in a disastrous trade war with Germania, further accelerating the hyperinflation and unemployment in the country.

Anti-Francois sentiment among the Pan-Nationalists shot through the roof after the Francois Republic signed an agreement of detente, the Treaty of Minsk, with the Russy Federation. It contained vague overtures to secure stability in Central and Eastern Europe, but the right-wing Germanians and Pullskans were quick to accuse both countries of splitting the continent in two, with the post-imperial states partitioned between the Francois and Russyites.

In other words, the Sejm was like the Reichstag in Berun, only worse. I just hoped that my advice to the progressive leaders had been heeded and implemented in Germania. Anti-semitism was just barely boiling above the surface in Warschau and although I rarely saw Himmler's face, I still spotted his henchmen roaming about, only more angry and, oddly enough, increasingly lost. Yet, they at least retained enough self-control to ask me a few mundane questions about the current situation whenever I ran into them.

Questions. Questions. Questions. In this era of possibilities, certainty was needed now more than ever. Even experienced men like Pilsud were deeply conflicted about the current direction of their country. Despite being old enough to be my grandfathers, they turned to me for answers. Pilsud was very adamant about arranging a secret meeting with me. He could not conceal his deep disappointment with his former friend, Moscic.

His frown was a thunderstorm that never ended.

"I am already planning to meet the Socialist president and we're already going to see each other in the capital. Do we really need to meet like this?" I asked the Field Marshal.

This meeting, unlike in Osby, was more informal as everyone present wore plain military attire deprived of all medals. Only then did I realize why Weiss was so interested in acquiring a new uniform; even at their most basic colors, the Pullskan generals and officers looked fashionably better than me.

"Yes." He answered with steel in his voice. "What will happen here will decide the fate of Pullska."

"And what is that?" I asked, feeling uneasy when I saw the men form a semi-circle before me.

"First, I would like to have another autograph," Pilsud stated, pulling out a small postcard that contained my face on it. The design was pulled from an old war-time propaganda poster. "I promised my grand-niece for her birthday."

I stared blankly back at the Field Marshal and his associates before grabbing the pen offered to me.

"Surely, this can't be all," I remarked, glaring at the old men present.

"Before we move onto the next part," Pilsud said, looking rather giddy when he got that autograph back, "What is your opinion of Moscic?"

"The President? I feel frustrated with his current decision-making though I do sympathize with his thought process. The poor performance in his recent policy direction has cost him his majority in government and all the political momentum with it. An effect that will force him to rule by decree unless Moscic can shift his focus toward more productive endeavors."

"So we agree," another military officer announced, walking forward to pluck the pen out of my hands once I was done writing my signatures before leading me to a table stacked with wine and sausages. "It is an honor to meet you in person, Argent Silver. I am General Eckart Tarlowski."

Unlike Pilsdud, Tarlowski was a younger man lacking much facial hair and a balding head. Yet his face was as round and solid as a cannonball. He bowed to kiss my hand much to my displeasure. Yet he pretended not to notice.

"Please, enough with the niceties, what do you really need me for?"

Tarlowski looked at Pilsud for approval and the old commander gave a single nod.

"I will keep this straightforward: Moscic needs to go. He has soured the office of the Presidency for too long."

"It's been only a year," I retorted, drinking my glass of water.

"Exactly."

"And what are you planning to do with him?"

"Enact a putsch." Tarlowski answered with a straight face.

I spat out my water in disbelief and quickly looked around to see if this wasn't some kind of premature prank. But everyone present was dead serious.

No… this can't be happening.

"I… beg your pardon?"

"Moscic is a Francois puppet." Another man spoke up. "He needs to be removed from office."

"How can he? Did he not try to defend Magyarozag when it was attacked? When Daneland was threatened?"

"He did only the bare minimum to defend our brothers and sisters across the border!" came a shout. "He must go! He is unworthy."

"Moscic was only trying to keep the peace in the Little Entente." I tried to reason with the crowd. "To keep the alliance stable."

"An alliance that seeks to turn us into Parisees' puppets. Have you not read of what happened in Minsk? The Francois would sooner let the East fall to communism as long as they keep the West," said another.

"Can't everyone here just wait for the next Pullskan election?"

"No," Pilsud answered, putting his hand on my shoulder. "We have all made up our minds: the sooner we can clean the politics of Pullska, the better."

"Why are you telling me this?" I asked, feeling disturbed under his grip.

"We need you as our messenger and the message," Tarlowski stated. "Your meeting with the President will be a golden opportunity to present an ultimatum: he can either stand down and allow for a peaceful transfer of power or it will be a violent one instead. Once you say your piece, our inside contact will notify us to proceed."

I immediately knocked away Pilsud's hand and got up from my seat. Why? Why were they so quick to overthrow their own government?

"You expect me to be complicit in your treason against the Republic? To assist you in overthrowing a democratically elected regime? Just because you all believe that he has betrayed the Pules?"

"Yes," they said.

My blood ran cold. Why was this happening? Nothing good can come out of a military junta, for anyone involved.

"Argent Silver," Tarlowski said, "We appreciate your concern for Moscic, we do. Your capacity for mercy makes you worthy of sainthood…. We're not executing anyone, just so you know, only expelling him and his cronies from politics."

"You swear on it?" I inquired.

"If he does not resist, we swear on it," Pilsud answered, his tone leaving no more room for argument.

"Are you all unaware that what you are plotting would violate the people's mandate, their preference of government?"

"Argent Silver, the goal for democracy was that it served the people and the interests of the state; it has accomplished neither. Our people's concerns are not reflected: they want jobs, security, and freedom from Bolshevism. The national interests of Pullska have also not been reflected by the system," the balding general explained.

"But it can work! It does work!" I retorted.

They dared to laugh at me.

"That's what I love about you, Tanya von Degurechaff," Pilsud commented, his eyes growing soft and tender for a moment. "You always look for the best in everyone and everything. But the matter of fact is, today's politics are poisoned. Fascists, Communists, National Vanguardists, and Volkists are causing the whole structure to rot. Moscic had only allowed corruption and inflation to run rampant on the streets. It all needs to be cleaned for our people to heal."

"Argent Silver…" Tarlowski said, regarding me with high praise. "Everyone here swore an oath to the Empire and the Kaiser; now, both of them are gone. The Francois has made Central Europe an anarchic wasteland and called it peace. It is only a matter of time before the Russy Federation marches west. As strong as the Francois Republic is, they cannot triumph against the Red Army.

"We need your help before Moscic causes any more damage to our people, to our nation, to our future…. He is a security risk. He has to be removed. Help us and we will repay you tenfold."

I let out a long, drawn-out sigh before returning to my seat. I felt my face falling to my hands, fatigue conquering my mind and body as I tried to process their rationale. Security risk… how many times was I going to hear that? How many times would I hear the news of a democratic state getting overthrown by its military? My parents and grandparents had already lived through the effects of Tojo's reign.

"Can you assure me that you have the popular support to launch a putsch?" I inquired, still not wanting to show my face.

"In time, those with good hearts and sound minds will understand our methods of ruling and naturally conclude that what we did was best for the people of Pullska." Pilsud hummed. "If the republic does not provide good leadership and security, what good is it for?"

Pulling my hands away, I gathered my strength to look at Tarlowski and Pilsud in the eyes. This goes against everything I stood for but…I needed them. They were right about Russy, about the Francois. If they were so determined to overthrow the president… perhaps I could at least try to curb a Great Purge and protect the few democratic leaders that matter.

"I accept your terms." I said bitterly, "I expect your full cooperation when the time comes."

"I knew I could put my trust in you," Pilsud commented with a small smile. "General, please offer her the speech."

Speech?

"We have this prepared for you in anticipation of your acceptance," Tarlowski said, pulling out a few papers of printed text from a small folder. "Once you are done with your personal affairs with President Moscic, deliver this message to him and his cabinet."

I grabbed the papers, not bothering to read them first as my attention was still on Pilsud.

"How long were you planning this coup?" I demanded.

"Since Moscic made Pullska a puppet in the Little Entente." He answered, "Membership simply grew after the Magyar-Dacian War."

"I suppose I will see you all in four days -"

"Two." Tarlowski interrupted.

"Pardon?"

"Two. Since you accepted, we can push forward your meeting to be held the day after tomorrow. Our inside contact will make sure of it."

"How… convenient. May I know who this contact is?"

"You will know him when you see him." Pilsud replied and that was it.

After talking of treason, the men eagerly ate their dinner around the table and discussed matters more mundane. But I was too lost in my own thoughts to pay attention to their words. Two days. I supposed that was a good thing: two more days to use to get back into Germania. I doubted Moscic's goodwill would still hold merit after Pilsud's coup. I would have to maneuver around the Reichsbanner leadership to march into Hessen, Westphalia, and the Rhineland.

It was a minor setback but one that could be tolerable if Pilsud is as honorable as he presents himself as. I just don't want to piss off the new leadership of an entire nation, especially a militant one.

It was a weird, funny feeling walking into Moscic's conference room; as if I was the Grim Reaper himself. How strange it was, despite my wartime service, as the guards and minor bureaucrats saluted me when I entered the building and walked through the halls. I had to force myself to smile to hide the growing discomfort.

If they knew my intentions and role, would they still allow me past the courtyard? There were a lot of soldiers around.

Technically, I wasn't committing treason but it wasn't too long ago that these people were my fellow countrymen. I should have no guilt in simply being the messenger of the conspiracy. And yet…

And yet…

I wondered if I should have blown the whistle early and alerted Moscic. But given how tensions were running high on the streets as the price of bread and beer shot up after the trade war, I remained doubtful that he could still gather enough public support. Knowing Pilsud and his ilk, he would only have gone through with a putsch if he was confident that a majority of the army was on his side.

If I had told Moscic the truth earlier, would he have tried to apprehend the Field Marshal? That would risk a civil war that would surely destroy the country. Stability was what was needed right now and if Pilsud believes he can provide it…

I just hope I made the right choice.

I felt unnecessarily cruel in deceiving the President of Pullska. What would my peers in the DDP think of me? What would Schlage think of me? Would he be happy that Pullska would be under a new regime more amicable to Berun? Or would he find the method of dissolving a liberal democracy too distasteful?

"Ah, Argent Silver!" Moscic was downright joyous upon seeing my face as I walked through the doors of the conference room. There were ten other men seated around a massive table, cabinet members of Moscic's regime, who were also equally delightful to see me. "We've been expecting you."

The men winced when they shook my hand when they came to introduce themselves; I must keep control before my doubts conquer my body. There was no time for hesitation, I was already committed to the role. Only Pilsud remained absent in his seat; he promised me an arm and a leg, and I expected them to be presented on a silver platter once this was over.

The President quickly had the aides pull over a luxurious chair for me to claim. Unlike Himmler, Moscic kept a respectable distance from me, though he leaned forward like a fanboy at a concert wanting to hear every note of his favorite idol.

"I would never imagine the day I would have the luxury to speak with the esteemed Argent Silver!" The statesman chuckled with his subordinates. "My friend here, Kazierz Balert, had told me you wanted to speak to me of matters of most importance concerning Germania. I am not sure how much I can tell you without divulging into federal records."

"My first request is more personal, Herr President." I replied, "It is about your old friends in the Social Democratic Party. President Erbel and Prime Minister Herimann, are those familiar names?"

"Of course, of course." He nodded, looking around the table. "Most of us are acquainted with him. I was once a close colleague of his during our university years. Those were the wild years…. Is there something wrong with them?"

"Not exactly. You see, I am sure you heard about the current political situation in Germania?"

Moscic nodded solemnly.

"The SPD has the largest… militia force in the country tasked to defend the new republic from extremist forces but unfortunately, Erbel and Herimann are hesitant of deploying them to maintain public order."

"So that's why you came to me? To talk to my old friends?"

"Exactly. I have recruited certain persons of special talent to uncover evidence of a communist revolution but I believe that is not enough to force the SPD to act. They need to comprehend the dangers of their inaction; their silence would only enable bolder plots to destabilize the republic."

"I understand… but surely your words hold merit." Moscic commented, "Why go through all the effort to speak with me, much less in front of my cabinet members?"

"Because I believe they respect you just as much." I answered with a sigh, "As for your question, there is another reason why I am here."

"Oh, what is it?"

"You… are in danger."

Moscic gave a small laugh.

"I am no stranger to violent confrontation. There's always a disgruntled worker or anarchist plotting my downfall."

"No, Herr President, the danger comes from within."

That wiped the smirk off of his face and replaced it with indignation. When I pulled out the speech given to me by the conspirators, Moscic turned pale with muted horror, as if I had just pulled out a grenade out of my purse.

"Following the current trend of your political decision-making, several people of notable status have approached me to act as their liaison. The second reason why I am here is to present you an ultimatum." I looked up from the document to look at the Pullskan president. "I am truly sorry it has to come to this…"

The room was already in an uproar as some of the younger ministers were quick to get out of their seats to head for the exit only to find it locked. The older men shouted for names. Demanded names of the conspirators all while Moscic regarded me with complete shock in his eyes. Only the Minister of Religion and Public Enlightenment, Kazier Balter, was deep in contemplation, unblinking when our eyes made contact.

I quickly looked down at my paper and forced out that next series of words.

"President Ignatsi Moscic, your style of governance and direction of this country is deeply troubling and detrimental to the health and security of Pulska and all the people that live within. You have done nothing but allow the enemies of the state to encroach on our borders and dictate national policy. We, the sons and daughters of the Empire, the children of Pulska, and the defenders of the free world seek your immediate resignation, including the resignation of your fellow party members."

"Why?" Moscic whispered, seemingly to himself. "Why?"

"Guards!" Minister of Internal Affairs, Stannis Wojeski, shouted, banging on the wooden doors with his fist. "Guards! Open these doors and arrest this criminal!"

His peers also banged on the panels of the wooden glass, trying to get the attention of the guards outside. The soldiers seemed to have gotten the message, only that it was from the wrong person, as some of the cabinet members saw several officers directing the men elsewhere.

"Who are these 'Defenders,' who?!" Minister of Justice, Wincler Witlos, demanded, looking ready to throw a punch in my direction. "Tell me! You damnable devil!"

"Treason. It is the only word to describe your actions thus far -" I was so ingrained in finishing the speech that I did not notice Witlos was upon me until he lifted me up by the neck and throttled me like a captured rabbit. That prompted Balter to start acting strangely as he moved his hand to be placed underneath the table, seemingly to perform some unknown action.

"Who are you working for? The National Volkists? The Fascists?" Witlos demanded, before slamming me onto the floor. "The fucking Communists?"

He would've strangled me to death if it weren't for Moscic and the Minister of Post attempting to break his grip on my neck and pry him off my body.

Just then, the doors burst open, revealing Field Marshal Pilsud, mustache and all, armed with an MP 28. He was not alone. Soldiers poured into the room with their machine pistols aimed at Moscic's men.

"HANDS UP WHERE I CAN SEE THEM!" He shouted, marching across the room to push the increasingly panicking Moscic against the wall. "Don't be so alarmed, old friend, just staging a coup here."

With the strength belonging to a man half his age, the old field marshal grabbed Witlos and threw him on top of the table, causing a flurry of papers, pens, and glasses to fly off and shatter.

"Keep your filthy mitts off of my war hero." Pilsud told the minister, "Are you hurt, my lady?"

Not wanting to condemn Witlos to a firing squad, I shook my head before pulling myself off of the ground.

"Herr Balter," the commander turned to the Minister of Religion and Public Enlightenment. "Does anyone here have any hidden weapons?"

"No," Balter answered. He was the only one that didn't have a barrel point at his head.

"You're a fucking disgrace to democracy!" Witlos spat bitterly as he was dragged off the table by Pilusd's loyalists. Gunshots started ringing throughout the building.

"I thought you said you weren't going to kill them," I spoke up, crumpling the speech I was given.

"I did." Pilsud replied, "I will spare them. I didn't say I would spare anyone else. Ok boys, shoot the rest of the dissenters if they do not surrender."

"Wait. Wait!" I quickly ran after Tarlowski who was going to lead some of the soldiers down a separate hallway while the main contingent escorted Moscic and his government out of the room. However, I was quickly halted by Pilsud who grabbed my shoulder.

"I want to express my gratitude for your assistance." He smiled. "It could not have gone better."

"I didn't want this to happen."

"There are plenty of events that occurred that you did not wish to happen but these are the tools we are given."

"We could have gone down a different path, a better path."

"We still can, dear Argent, but only under my direction." Pilsud remarked.

"How? HOW?!" I demanded.

For a moment, he said nothing. Only regarding me with praising eyes that hid a sliver of contempt. I quickly removed his hand from my shoulder. That only gave him the incentive to smirk with approval.

"You will know my methods once you see it in action but for now, I think it is time for you to return home…" he replied before walking away. "Your friends need you in Berun now."

"Don't you DARE change the subject! Do you not understand what you have done?!" I shouted at him, yet my words seemed to only bounce off the wall and into the abyss.

"Yes, I do."

"Then you know how my involvement in this putsch would harm me and my movement!"

"On the contrary, this will only solidify it." His voice echoed in the hallway. "I would say good luck on the election but you don't need it."