In the end, I seem to have successfully made my point to the Tsar. All’s well that ends well, I suppose. I’m actually quite surprised that he didn’t bring up the topic of the navy. Our navy is notoriously in a state of disrepair and near non-existence.
However, I believe the navy is no doubt the least of our concerns. Despite the impressiveness of the Empire’s navy, it would be hard-pressed to try and naval invade in our most arctic regions which are the only direct access they have to the mainland. All the other ports situated near us are in bordering neutral countries, such as Laplaze. For now, the empire can’t risk offending the sleeping giants and open up a two-front war. Thus a naval invasion is most likely not imminent.
Our strength has always lied in our army, after all, its overwhelming size has been what kept our enemies at bay. Some say it is the silent Boreal Reaper which steadfastly defends the motherland, but those who say that do not know the will of our comrades in the White Army.
“Yegor,” I call out. Yegor quickly salutes, hitting his fist against his chest.
“Commissioner,” he replies. I take a moment to collect my thoughts, as we steadily march through street 43’ with the silhouette of the silver palace slowly fading in the distance.
“When exactly do you think the Reichsmaschine will make plans to attack?” I ask him. He shakes his head.
“I’m not sure I can really say, Commissioner. With Rudel already annexed and Zaplecza in the middle of being integrated into the empire, they have made quite a considerable foothold. The only thing that’s really holding them back now is the restricted size of their army. If they go any further with the development of their army, they will be violating the treaty.”
I sigh rather deeply, massaging my temples.
“It’s quite clear that the Kugel and the Adlerschrank both care little for the terms of the treaty, so that isn’t much of a deterrent anymore,” I tiredly leak out.
“It seems to be so, Commissioner. They are no doubt waiting for the complete integration of Zaplecza and Rudel before they begin building up the Reichsmaschine. The treaty is nothing more than a formality at this point. I’m sure they’re quietly lurking, awaiting the opportune moment to strike,” Yegor tensely answers.
Those damn foxes. Just barely skirting around the constraints of the treaty, making sure no one can point any fingers at the Adlerschrank for their clearly hostile actions. Taking Rudel with no resistance and so easily annexing the rest of the eastern lowlands, they really have their work cut out for them. At least Zaplecza put up somewhat of a fight. We desperately need to rush the development of the White Army’s capabilities or we really will be steamrolled by the Reichsmaschine.
I can barely stand it. The enemy is practically at our doorstep and yet those lazy bastards in Charcourt and Faltith only ever file so-called “diplomatic objections”. Can they not see that neither Kugel nor Zürtzün will be placated with mere words? Nevermind those isolationists in the Unity, I'll be surprised if they so much blink at the impending wave. As per usual, the burden is left up to us to bear. I simply won’t allow those Zündar to have their way. If it were up to the Adlerschrank, we’d all be working ourselves to death in camps like Schutzfel.
Suddenly, I'm nearly knocked over from the brute force of a massive slap on my back. Ilya shoots me a wide grin as he pulls back his large hand from my back.
“Don’t worry Commissioner. You did great, I honestly think that the White Army was right to assign you as a delegation for the negotiation with Tsar Nikolas. Nobody could’ve done it better. You should stop stressing about it, otherwise, my babushka might mistake you for a prune from all those wrinkles and try to throw you into a jam!” he heartily laughs.
I slightly smile at his antics and stifle a chuckle. Indeed, the little things like this is what I fight for. Stressing out, crying, and then laughing all in a single day, I would not hesitate to give my everything to ensure this everyday peace.
“Thank you, Ilya. I find it wonderful that you have so much faith in me and I am deeply grateful that I have comrades as wonderful as you two.” I tell Ilya and Yegor. Ilya once again heartily laughs as he scratches the back of his head, while a soft smile drifts onto Yegor’s face.
“D’aww, you’re gonna make me blush, Commissioner!” Ilya says bashfully.
“Indeed, we are fortunate to have you as our Commissioner, Avrora,” Ilya adds in.
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H-Hey guys, now you’re making me feel embarrassed. Sheesh, what’s with the flood of compliments…? I suppose I'll gratefully accept them in full stride.
“Alright then, all this positive atmosphere has me in a good mood! Let’s head over to Karp’s! First round’s on me!” Ilya proclaims. Yegor glances at Ilya pumping his fist in the air and slightly sighs.
“Just don’t rush ahead and leave us in the dust again, Ilya.” Yegor tiredly says. Ilya shoots him a glare.
“It wasn’t my fault that you decided to meander around in a bookshop while I was making good progress towards our destination, Yegor.” he flatly says. Yegor’s eye twitches. Oh dear. This might just get messy…
“Meander? I was looking at the prestigious collection of rare novellas and ancient literature, how is that me meandering?” Yegor shoots back.
“Just because you were looking at some fancy-schmancy books doesn’t change the fact that you were lagging behind. That still has nothing to do with me, that’s all on you.” Ilya retorts at Yegor. Yegor pauses for a moment, seeming to be at a loss on how to respond. He soon regains his spunk though, much to the dismay of Ilya.
“Well maybe if you weren’t so obsessed with booze, then there wouldn’t be any need to rush!” he says. Ilya looks just about done with Yegor.
“Please! Take a look in the mirror before you accuse someone of being obsessed. What about that time I had to dig you out of a pile of books because you nearly suffocated? That’s not obsession though, is it Yegor? Because it’s ‘educational’ or whatever?” Ilya scoffs. Yegor starts to turn bright red, and this is where I start weighing an intervention.
“Why I oughta…!” Yegor starts, but I don't let him finish.
“Aaalright then, as interesting as that is, we should probably just get going.” I interrupt. It seems these two can’t stop bickering no matter what situation they’re put into. Who knows where this will go if I don’t interfere…
After throwing one last glare at each other, they quickly chuff and move on. Or rather, they stop talking to each other, which is better than nothing. Thank goodness.
“Now then gentleman, shall we brighten the mood with a couple of drinks?”.
----------------------------------------
“...And then I told him, your mother’s a whore! What a piece of shit, am I right?” Yegor proudly proclaims. The rest of the bar merrily cheers at his story, with voices of agreement floating up from the crowd. Yegor is surprisingly in his element at these types of places. A bookish and pessimistic type like him, you wouldn’t really expect it. Suddenly, Ilya throws his arm around Yegor, slamming his empty glass down on the table after gulping the whole thing down in one go.
“You-*hic* wanna know s-something Yegor? You’re so much less of a prick when you’re reallll drunk.” he just barely manages to sputter. Yegor giggles like a schoolgirl, which is admittedly very off-putting.
“Haha, fuck off cunt.” Yegor cheerfully says. Then they both start laughing. And laughing, and laughing, and laughing and laughing, and-
Ah. There they go. Passing out like that in almost a clockwork fashion, it would be impressive if it weren’t so… so… sad. As their Commissioner though, I have to take responsibility for hauling them out of here, which will certainly be painful. How to go about this…
I feel a light tapping on my shoulder. Turning around, I see a strange green-haired girl with a short, messy cut and dark grey eyes. We make eye contact and her eyes flicker with an unknown emotion for a brief moment, only to quickly become neutral once again.
“Need some help?” she asks.
“Help me? How did you know I needed help? And do I even know you?” I ask, suspiciously. People often attempt to get close to me simply because I am a Commissioner, thinking that that will get them some sort of special benefits. Already I feel wary of this girl.
She glances down to the floor, only to look at me quizzically.
“Well, you looked pretty exasperated when those two blokes crumpled onto the floor. I’ve had a couple of lads who’ve done that on me, so I know the feeling all too well,” she tells me. Actually, now that I listen to her more closely, she talks with a very distinct accent.
“Are you possibly from… Faltith?” I ask her. She looks a little surprised.
“Quite. I thought my Mynmiat was fluent, but I guess even when you speak the language well, your accent still comes through.” I suppose I can lower my guard a little if she’s from Faltith. There’s no reason for her to take advantage of my position unless she was one of those dirty appeasers their government loves so much.
But I could really use the help right now, as while Yegor is quite lanky, Ilya has a very large frame. No way I can carry both of these drunkards. In the first place, why do I have to saddled with cleaning up after their antics…?
“Well if you’re making the offer, I would appreciate it. Just to put it out there though, don’t try to sell me any of the appeasement junk. I’m not interested, so quit while you’re ahead.”. It may sound rude to put it out like this immediately, but I really don’t want another appeaser talking my ear off with nonsense. I would much rather struggle to carry these two back home, rather than have this Falt help me and feed me verbal garbage. Luckily enough for me though, she shook her head.
“My politics are my business only. No need to worry yourself, ma’am, I won’t bother you with them. Just want to help.” she says as emotionlessly as ever. I consider her for a minute and then stick out my hand. “Galiyev. Avrora Galiyev. Nice to meet you.” I finally greet her. She returns the gesture, slipping her hand into mine.
“Florence Sharpe. It’s a pleasure, Ms Galiyev.”.
Well, whatever. It’s just for one night. What’s the worst that could happen?