A Young Woman's Political Record 35 (Patreon)

 AN1: Thanks to everybody who contributed to my patreon! You guys rock. Some day I hope to be able to offer something like early access in exchange for your contributions, but for now, have another chapter.

ooOoo​

September 2, 1940

Normally, I was happy when Visha showed up at my door with a cup of coffee in hand. Normally, she hadn't just woken me up an hour before the usual time. Also, she normally didn't have such a grim expression on her face, nor a letter in her hands.

I barely kept from swearing when I read the news of the Francois invasion of Ildoa. What the hell were they thinking? One war had been enough for me, and I'd just been defending my country. I really didn't understand how they could be so enthusiastic about launching another unprovoked invasion. It wasn't like the last two had gone very well for them.

By rights, the Albish ought to nip this in the bud. Unfortunately, in this world with Being X, common sense was quite uncommon. I was probably going to have to end up dealing with the fallout from this mess.

I told Visha to schedule an early meeting, knocked back most of the coffee in one go, and headed back to take a shower. It was something of an indulgence, but if I didn't take the time to wake up properly before work I was liable to do something I'd regret, like start a war.

When Visha and I arrived at the office, we were met by Elya, ready to escort us to the meeting. As this was to be a meeting of the entire cabinet, Elya would be limited to the role of an ordinary secretary. Foreign Minister Zettour would be presenting any information she had gathered. I'd meet with her afterwards to discuss anything too sensitive to be aired in front of the cabinet.

When we arrived at the conference room, I looked around to see plenty of evidence of recent awakenings and hasty preparation. Understandable, as it was still well before normal working hours. At least everybody looked reasonably alert. I didn't make a habit of calling emergency meetings, so even the cabinet members who hadn't heard whispers of the invasion knew that something serious was afoot.

I turned to Zettour as I took my seat. "What's going on?"

"A Francois army of over one hundred thousand men has battered their way through the Alpine passes," he said, then paused to let the shocked exclamations fade. "The Francois claim that Ildoan democratic agitators have been recruiting and rabble rousing near the border, culminating in attempted arson of a courthouse in Menton."

"Attempted arson?" I said, raising an eyebrow. "They couldn't be bothered to burn down a building to sell the story?"

Even the Kwantung Army hadn't been that lazy. The Francois must not have cared whether anybody believed their story. I hoped it was due to misplaced arrogance, rather than anything more sinister.

"In any event," Zettour replied, "that's their excuse for accepting Muzzioli's long standing invitation to intervene in the Ildoan civil war."

Muzzioli had made no secret of his desire to cozy up to the Francois government. Up until this morning, the Francois support had been limited to covert weapons shipments and volunteers, much like our support for his opponents.

"Why didn't I hear about this sooner?"

It stood to reason that the Francois, finding themselves on the losing side of the game, had decided to flip the table. I was a little disappointed not to have any advanced warning, though. I'd been under the impression that our spy network was more competent than the Empire's had been.

"The Francois have been conducting military demonstrations along the border for some time. In addition, there had been some civil unrest in the area," Zettour said. "We didn't realize there was anything special to this buildup until they made their move."

To be fair, Elya had also probably thought that given the recent conference in Amstreldam and the Albish ultimatum, an invasion was highly unlikely. The advantage enjoyed by a party who picks a self-destructive strategic course is that he will catch people by surprise, at least at first.

"And they're already through the Alps?" I asked. "Were the Ildoans even garrisoning the border?"

The Alps were the sort of wonderful natural barrier to invasion that I would love to have on our every border. Sure, Hannibal had managed to sneak some elephants across them back in ancient times, but I had been under the impression that border defenses had improved in the ensuing millennia.

"Preliminary reports suggest that the Francois invasion force was accompanied by over a thousand mages," he replied.

"That would do it," I said. "Where did they come up with so many mages?"

That was an absurd concentration of magical force. Against mountain bunkers that were largely a series of machine gun nests, they would have been able to clear a path with ease.

I had a hard time accepting the number, though. Even the Empire had never gathered so many mages in one place. After the losses suffered by the Francois in the Great War and at Duisbuch, I would have thought they'd have trouble scraping up a thousand A and B rank mages even if they trawled through their whole population, regardless of age. They had to be receiving support from another country. If we could identify the source of those mages, it would go a long way toward explaining why the Francois thought this invasion was a good idea.

"We're still investigating the matter," Zettour said. "I'll report back when we have more than rumor and speculation."

I nodded. The truth would come out in time. "What are the Albish doing?"

The Allied Kingdom was the key to all this. It was their Prime Minister who had claimed that any invasion of Ildoa would be treated as an act of war. I was of course closer to the action and more likely to suffer directly from Muzzioli's takeover, but it was the Allied Kingdom whose face had directly been slapped by the Francois invasion.

"They've sent a strongly worded letter to the Francois government," he said, "demanding that they withdraw their troops."

I waited a moment, but he stayed silent. Finally, I had to ask. "What else?"

"That's it," he said, shrugging helplessly.

"Well, as long as it's strongly worded," I said, shaking my head. At least it was still early. There was time for the Albish to find their spines. In the meantime, I needed to know what we could do before I could decide what we should do. "General Lergen, what can we do about this?"

I was worried that my frugality was going to come back to haunt me now. I would happily take our army's technology over anybody else's, but the army's overall striking power was constrained by its relatively small size. I'd been trying to avoid being too provocative, not realizing that the Francois didn't need to be provoked before starting a war.

Fortunately, General Lergen was all business. He didn't rub my nose in my failure to end the Ildoan civil war with a decisive invasion back when I'd had the opportunity. Instead, he focused entirely on what we could do in the current situation.

"Broadly speaking, we see three strategic options," he said. "First would be to fight the Francois army directly in Ildoa. We should be able to drive them out, but inflicting a decisive defeat would be unlikely."

That wasn't too much of a surprise. Success on the level of Operation Revolving Door was the exception, not the rule. I was pleased that he was confident in victory, even if the overall result wasn't particularly appealing.

"The second choice would be to cut them off from their supply lines. That would require that we traverse the Waldstatte Confederacy," he continued. "The projected results would vary depending on whether that would be that traversal was peaceful or not."

Yikes. In fairness, it was General Lergen's job to present options, and my job to choose among them. That said, his calm demeanor as he presented the option of invading our neutral neighbor—the only neighbor with which we hadn't gone to war in the last century—made me worry that he might just do something crazy if I didn't find him somewhere to invade soon.

I did my best to stay calm and waved a hand dismissively. "Let's table that one for now."

He remained unperturbed by my preemptive dismissal of his plans. At least he was still willing to follow orders. He was too valuable to dismiss outright just because of a little over aggression. Most of the generals in the army shared his outlook, after all. They called it patriotism.

I did worry, sometimes, that the only reason he held back was because he agreed with me that the particular invasions under discussion were a bad idea. If he thought some invasion was a good idea, well, I could only hope that I wouldn't wake up some day to find our army occupying some capital or another.

"The final option would be to drive straight for Parisee," he said. "If we could put them under enough pressure then they would not be able to continue to support their army in Ildoa."

Ah. That explained his calm. I didn't doubt that he preferred going directly at Parisee instead of slogging through the Waldstatte Confederacy.

"Could we take Parisee?"

I could see the logic of it. If we were going to war with the Francois Republic, then fighting them in Ildoa would be a pointless sideshow compared to taking their capital. Of course, the Albish would probably be upset if we responded to an invasion of Ildoa by marching straight towards Parisee. It was only a really attractive option if we could settle matters quickly, before the Allied Kingdom had a chance to make up its mind and butt in.

"Eventually, yes," he said, before pausing to push up his glasses. "Although the sudden appearance of a thousand mages in a single unit is worrisome."

Indeed. Seeing a thousand mages in the field suggested many more in reserve. Even if the thousand mages were all that they had, mages were highly mobile. It would be easy to pull just the mages back from Ildoa and set them on our invasion force.

Our own mage corps was, roughly speaking, two hundred and fifty newly trained mages plus the fifty former members of the 203rd. Leaving out the mages permanently assigned to the academy, we could put seven more or less full battalions in the field. Even if most of them were unblooded rookies, I was confident that our training and our orb technology was ahead of the Francois. Still, the numerical disadvantage was daunting. Our mages would have to employ very cautious tactics in order to whittle down the Francois forces, avoiding pitched battle as much as possible. Taking that kind of approach would of course slow down the army's invasion plans quite a bit.

"I'm afraid I have something to add," Zettour said. "This photograph was taken last week in the port of Brest."

He slid a photo onto the conference table. As soon as I saw it, I was overcome with a nearly irresistible urge to curse Being X right then and there. If I could find that bastard, I'd shoot him in his stupid face without hesitation.

Right there in living color was a ship flying the flag of the Russy Federation. Even worse, an oil tanker. Eager as the communists were to build their socialist paradise on top of the bones of those who thought differently, they barely traded with foreign markets. Especially oil, the lifeblood of modern industry. Logically speaking, the presence of the oil tanker was a political statement.

If I'd known that the Francois had hopped in bed with the commies, I wouldn't have been nearly so sanguine about the situation.

"Why wasn't I shown this before?"

I did my best to keep my voice level. It didn't do anybody any good to see the boss fly off the handle.

"We wanted to pin down what is going on, not just speculate based on a single photo," Zettour said. "So far, all that we know is that Russy flagged cargo vessels have been a common sight in Francois ports over the last two weeks. Members of the Francois government have softened their anti-communist rhetoric lately, as well."

Wonderful. If the Russy Federation was shifting its focus from promoting international socialism to more traditional power politics, then the mess in Ildoa was the least of our problems.

Even worse, this suggested a sinister answer to the mystery of the thousand mages. It was hard to get information out of the Russy Federation. One story that was all too common, though, was that every member of the population was forced to undergo magical testing. Those who scored an A or B rank were immediately ushered into government vehicles, never to be seen again.

I'd assumed that the communists had simply deemed them enemies of the revolution and shot them in the back of the head. Now, though, I had to wonder. A country the size of the Federation could easily have a thousand flight capable mages within its borders. Or on loan.

The silver lining in that case was that we were being given a shot at the mages without having to worry about the rest of the communist military, at least for the moment.

"New question," I said, turning back to General Lergen. "Can we reach Parisee before the Red Army batters its way through Pullska and reaches our borders?"

"It would be close," he said. Judging by his expression, the answer was no, but he didn't want to admit it.

Zettour jumped in. "We can't say for sure that the Francois and the Rus are working together."

Sometimes I envied those who weren't burdened by the knowledge of future history and their limited ability to imagine disastrous possibilities.

"It makes too much sense," I said. "Jughashvili was feeling the heat over his eastern conquests, so he paid the Francois to start trouble. Now that they have, he won't let us knock out his puppet so easily. Not to mention what would happen if the Albish jumped in."

I was still a little bitter that the Federation's occupation of Joseon had drawn Albish ire when they had so blithely dismissed the threat that the Rus posed to central Europe. At least, though, the Allied Kingdom had started to look at the Russy Federation as a potential threat. Now, though, their focus would be drawn away from the far east for a good long while.

"Certainly, in a worst case scenario where the Allied Kingdom, Francois Republic, and Russy Federation all joined hands," General Lergen allowed, "the military situation would be quite challenging."

"Don't forget the Unified States. They may trade with us, but they have blood ties with Albion," I said. "There's no guarantee they'll stand aside if we were somehow to get the upper hand over the Allied Kingdom."

"Surely such a massive alliance would be too unwieldy to wage war together," Zettour said.

"Maybe," I allowed. Insisting any further would make me sound like a paranoid crank, which was the last thing the country needed right now. "Anyways, don't just casually toss around words like 'worst case scenario.'"

General Lergen nodded, and the room fell silent. I stared at the map for a moment, considering what would happen if our army was bogged down on the road to Parisee when the Red Army came crashing in from the east. Not a pretty picture. I'd probably survive, thanks to the Type 99, but I'd hate for my legacy to be opening Europe up to communist domination.

I sighed. "What happens if the Francois are allowed to operate unimpeded?"

"Muzzioli will control the country in short order," General Lergen said. "If the democratic forces fall back to stave off the Francois, he can follow along behind and pressure their flanks. If they stay where they are, the Francois forces will cut them off from resupply and attack from the rear."

As I'd expected. It was too much to expect the northern forces to hold off half of their countrymen and a foreign invasion all at once. Watching Ildoa fall to Muzzioli would be less devastating than being run over directly by communists, but a small disaster was still a disaster nonetheless.

"Can we talk the Akinese into taking another poke at the Federation? Or the Francois colonies, for that matter?" I asked. Any forces the Akinese kept busy were forces that couldn't invade us.

"I'm afraid they're struggling to feed their population, let alone start a war," Zettour replied.

"What?"

I had kept track of the overall course of the second Russo-Akinese war, of course, but I hadn't paid close attention to the developments in the Akitsushima Empire afterwards. Part of it was that I was busy, but a larger part was that I didn't want to be dragged into a front row seat as a group of idiots dragged the analogue of my birth country into a series of disastrous wars. To now hear that the Akinese would turn down a chance to fight suggested that history had gone off script.

As Foreign Minister Zettour proceeded to explain, things had indeed changed. After the disastrous war on the mainland, the leaders of the largest Akitsushiman army group had gone before the Emperor and offered to commit suicide. A handy trick to earn instant forgiveness if you were a vital part of the war machine, as the Emperor insisted that you continue to fight for the cause. Not such a good trick once you were surplus to requirements, as it turned out. The Emperor had told them to go ahead and do it.

I liked this Emperor already.

That initial feeling was only reinforced when Zettour explained that the Emperor had used the shockwaves generated by that act to dislodge the military from its position of power. He had reinstated democratic reforms that had been shoved aside for the sake of expediency during the war and disavowed any interest in foreign conquest.

Unfortunately, the Emperor's own grip on power was looking a bit shaky these days. With the loss of the mainland territory, Akitsushima's food production had been hit hard. Couple that with the massive loss of able bodied men and the large scale evacuation to the home islands, and they were looking at a very hungry winter. The Akinese had run their foreign credit into the ground during the war, so buying on foreign markets wasn't an option.

There were rumblings of food riots on the horizon. In the worst case, they could be looking at civil war or a military junta running things by this time next year. In any event, as Zettour had said, they were in no place to pick any kind of fight right now.

If the Albish were determined to be useless, and the Akinese were useless by circumstance, then we'd need to figure out a decent option for ourselves. Invading the Francois Republic was out. Just letting Ildoa fall was also no good. If we could maintain a defensive line in Ildoa, we should be able to keep enough troops free to defend ourselves if needed. Not that it would be great to be in that kind of stalemate, but at least it wouldn't be a complete disaster. Of course, the Albish would get pissy with us if we started digging our troops into place in Ildoa for the long haul.

I looked over the map, searching for inspiration. My eyes caught on the northeastern area of Ildoa, the territory that had briefly been governed by the Empire. Reaching out, I tapped on the spot on the map.

"What's public opinion like here, these days? What's the proper name for the region now, anyway?"

Zettour looked a bit surprised by the question. He took a moment to gather his thoughts.

"That's Carinthia. If anything, they're feeling nostalgic," he said. "The Empire largely left them to their own devices. Ildoa has been pushing Ildoazation, and Muzzioli has promised to push even harder. They've been more enthusiastic than most in volunteering for our side's army."

There might be some potential there. Not for a good option, exactly, but for something less bad.

"Hmm," I said. "Let's preserve some flexibility for now. Prepare two expeditionary groups. Station one on our border with Ildoa and one on our border with the Francois."

"On the border of the demilitarized zone?" General Lergen asked.

Naturally, General Lergen was opposed to half measures. However, I wanted this to be a negotiation, not a war. Engaging in some gradual escalation would give us something to bargain away when the time came.

"No, on the border," I said. "I know, if we truly wanted to take Parisee we wouldn't give them so much warning, but I'm hoping it won't come to that. Oh, where are our ships?"

There was a trace of reluctance in General Lergen's eyes, but after a moment he nodded. Looking down, his eyes traced over the map as he thought over my question.

"Four destroyers are on a goodwill tour to America. They should be arriving at the Unified States shortly," he said. "The bulk of the rest of the fleet is on exercise in the Baltic."

"Good, good. That should be fine. Make sure to recall any ships that are near Francois waters," I said, before turning to Mr. Klohse, our Minister of Finance. Given the situation, talk of the army had naturally dominated the meeting, but a nation doesn't run on military strategy alone. "Now, if we do go to war, how are our finances?"

"We can support the current army on combat operations indefinitely. If there is a general mobilization, we will be on something of a time limit," he replied without hesitation. The question had to have been on his mind for a while. "One year is no problem, but two will mean tightening our belts. Any longer and we'll have to get creative. It will be easier to get creative if the sea lanes are open, of course."

That was about what I had expected. I could only hope that the Albish speaking nations would at least send us financial subsidies if we did get dragged into an unending war against the communists on their behalf.

"All right," I said. "Has the rationing plan been updated since people started buying so many cars?"

Rationing gasoline wouldn't be popular, but the military's needs would have to come first.

"I believe so, yes," he replied.

As expected. I wanted to make sure he was on top of things, but it would border on micromanaging if I pushed for too much more detailed information.

"Good. Make sure it's ready to go," I said. "I don't want a war, but the Francois may not leave us much choice. If matters escalate, I want to hit the ground running."

"Yes, chancellor," he said.

"Also, let's go ahead and top off our stockpiles of oil and grain from America. Expand them as much as is practical," I said. "I don't think General Lergen will ever complain about having too much oil or food on hand."

My understanding was that we usually kept a reasonable reserve, but if things went south this could be our last chance to top off our stockpile for a while. It should still be reasonably safe. Even if we did get dragged into a war, the Francois shouldn't be willing to sink American shipping right off the bat.

Klohse nodded.

"While we're at it, let's buy food in America to ship to the Akitsushima Empire," I said. "Have our destroyers meet the shipment on their west coast and escort it on its way."

That brought a look of surprise to Klohse's face. "Buy food for the Akinese? How much?"

"Enough to take the edge off of their food crisis. They've helped us out by fighting the Russy Federation for so long. It would be a pity for them to fall apart as a result," I joked. As if feelings like gratitude had anything to do with international politics. Unfortunately, everybody was too on edge at the prospect of imminent war to even offer me the usual courtesy chuckle. I cleared my throat and continued. "Also, a stable Akitsushima is at least a latent threat to the Federation. If they fall into a civil war the Federation could strip its eastern garrison completely bare and throw them at us. I'd rather spend money now than lives later."

That brought nods from around the table as my cabinet realized that I didn't intend to sacrifice national self-interest on the altar of feelings.

"Make sure the food is packed in crates appropriate to be handed out to families," I continued. "Throw some chocolate in there. And get somebody to do up some propaganda singing the praises of our relationship."

There was no point letting an opportunity to score goodwill go to waste. Even if we were acting out of mercenary motives, we should still try to pick up every possible scrap of credit for handing out free food.

Klohse nodded in agreement, jotting down a note to himself. I turned my attention to Zettour.

"We need more from the Albish. They're the ones who can really nip this in the bud. Press them for concrete commitments. If the ambassador would rather talk to me, I'll make myself available," I said. "Everybody else, I think that's enough for now. Hope for the best, prepare for the worst."

Everybody had their plates full with the incipient crisis, so the room emptied quickly. I actually had a bit of free time as I waited for other people to report back, which nicely allowed for my important after-meeting meeting once Visha, Elya, and I were the only ones left in the room.

I caught Elya's eye. "Let's talk about Carinthia."

"We have some people there," she said. "It's more or less as Minister Zettour described it."

She had obviously been expecting me to bring up the topic since I'd mentioned it earlier. It was a comfort to have such a reliable subordinate.

"Are there any militant independence groups?" I asked.

I hadn't heard of any, but it was, after all, the Balkans. It would be strange if nobody was trying to kill anybody else.

"Not really," she said. "The people with that sort of personality mostly signed up for the northern army."

Just my luck. I couldn't even really get mad at Being X, if he had in fact arranged such a suspiciously tranquil situation.

"We'll need to start our own, then," I said. "Try to convince any locals who sign up that it's a long-established group."

It was a tall order to spring something like this on Elya with such a short deadline. On the other hand, we didn't really need to fool everybody with this one. It was more that we needed to give people an excuse to look the other way if they were already so inclined.

"You want me to organize a group to resist the Francois occupation?" she asked.

"No, no, I need a group who can take over a radio station in the next day or two and announce a general uprising for a free Carinthia," I said. "The Albish promised war if we marched our troops into Ildoa. If we limit ourselves to occupying independent Carinthia, we're technically outside of their ultimatum."

Of course, this was only the tiniest fig leaf of an excuse. Assuming that the Albish were looking for an excuse to wash their hands of any responsibility for Ildoa, though, it would be enough. The Carinthian region was a rugged area that should be relatively easy to fortify. It would offer a safe haven to the free Ildoan army, and would give us a convenient toehold south of the Alps in the event that war looked like a better option for us in the future.

I hated giving up on the rest of Ildoa, but sometimes you had to make the best of a bad situation.

"I see," she said. "That should be simple enough."

"Good. Make sure they know to wait for authorization before declaring independence," I said. "If the Albish assert themselves, this should all blow over without us even needing to do anything."

ooOoo​

The Albish did not seem prepared to assert themselves. I got that impression from the look of frustration on Zettour's face as he escorted the Albish ambassador into my office shortly after lunch. It was only reinforced by the sheepish look of Mr. Lloyd's body language. I hoped that I was misreading the situation.

"Mr. Lloyd, thank you for coming. As the Americans would say, let's get down to brass tacks," I said. "The Francois are marching east as we speak."

"We've tried to get them to stop," he said.

"Yes, but you haven't tried very hard," I said. "Why do you pay for that wonderful navy if not for moments like this?"

Albion had been using its navy to bully continental powers for centuries. It was irritating that they had suddenly developed cold feet right when I needed them to bully my neighbor.

"If the Francois continue their intransigence," he said, "we will respond appropriately. No options have been ruled out at this time."

I sighed. I could respect a good bit of diplomatic doublespeak, but there was a time and place for everything.

"Even if you aren't willing to enforce a total blockade," I said, "you could at least cut off the raw materials that the communists are shipping over. Russy-flagged shipping isn't that hard to pick out."

He looked surprised, though it was hard to tell if the expression was genuine. "We would have to investigate that sort of allegation before taking action, of course."

"Of course. Look, if you want to be the puppet masters of Europe," I said, "you need to tug on the string when somebody goes off script like this."

He didn't say anything, and I waved apologetically. There was no point in venting my frustration on a professional diplomat. As a last resort, I decided to try sincerity.

"I understand your concerns and preferences. I find your aspirations for a peaceful solution to be admirable. But I really need some specific answers, here," I said. "Do you intend to do anything to kick the frogs out of Ildoa? If I go down there to clean up your mess, what will you do? Will you at least help out if the Russy Federation decides to jump in?"

"I can't make the kind of specific commitment you're looking for," he said.

"Then talk to someone who can," I replied. "Would Albion ever tolerate a hostile country installing a dictator on your border?"

I stood to escort him out of the room. His wishy-washy answers shouldn't have been a surprise, but it was still irritating. All the more so since I suspected, push come to shove, his government would still step in to bail out de Lugo if his gambit went sour on him.

"Monsieur de Lugo has sent his army to deliver a shit sandwich to my doorstep," I said. "I do hope somebody in Londinium at least thinks things over before you decide whether you're going to force me to eat it."

In some ways I would have preferred implacable hostility to this kind of vacillation. Our country would have been worse off, of course, but at least I would have had full information when it came time to make important decisions. If the Albish continued to delay making a decision, I was going to have to take a chance and do something proactive.

ooOoo​

My final task of the day was to reassure my countrymen. As I knew all too well, if left to their own devices amid rumors of a Francois military rampage, they were liable to form up into independent brigades and start marching towards Parisee. As always, I would need to channel that energy in a constructive, peaceful direction.

This would be my first use of the public broadcasting system. The speech would also be carried on the radio, but most of the country at least lived within driving distance of a television, so plenty of people would be watching me on screen. It would have been a scary thought if I couldn't draw on future knowledge of good television presentation habits. And, of course, if I hadn't spent so much time under artillery fire.

The process of getting made up for television was quite an ordeal. I just tried to think of it as donning armor for a new arena. Fortunately, the whole process of arranging the use of the studio and planning out my appearance went smoothly. One of the perks of owning the station, I supposed.

The studio lights were blinding, and must have raised the temperature by a good ten degrees. I'd fought battles in the sweltering heat of the desert, though. I did my best to draw on that experience and put the discomfort to the back of my mind. As the presenter in the other room introduced me and a studio aide counted down the seconds until I was on air, I fixed the camera with a steady, serious look.

He reached a silent zero just as the light over the camera came on.

"My fellow Germanians," I said. "Early this morning I received reports that the armed forces of the Francois Republic have invaded the Kingdom of Ildoa. Their stated purpose is to crush the democratic faction in the Ildoan civil war and to install Muzzioli as a dictator."

I was seated behind a desk. Next to me was an easel holding up a white-painted plank of wood. It had taken some doing to find the right size to be readily visible on a twelve inch screen, but now I just had to make the map to scale.

Drawing on the Type-99, I projected a map of Ildoa on the blank screen. It was divided at the Arno, with a green area above and a red area below. A red arrow appeared on the border with the Francois Republic before lengthening to thrust into Ildoa. It split into a rain of red lines that gradually filled the green area of Ildoa until the whole country was colored red.

Usually, I would say something at this point about how awful Muzzioli was as a person and how we couldn't risk leaving him in charge of Ildoa, especially given his new status as a Francois puppet. However, considering the strong chance that the circumstances would force me to accept Muzzioli's takeover whether I wanted to or not, I skipped over that bit. I liked to keep at least a few months between blustering defiance and meek acquiescence.

"We are not at war. I repeat, the Germanian Republic is not at war at this time," I said. "The actions of the Francois have shocked the world. Not only is their invasion an affront to the norms of civilized behavior, it is also a breach of the solemn promise they made in Amstreldam less than a year ago. It is my hope that in the face of a rebuke from the decent people of the world, the Francois will come to their senses and back down without any further blood being shed."

Of course, if the Francois were inclined to be reasonable, then they never would have launched this invasion in the first place. Or, rather, if they had reasoned out that they could tip the war firmly in Muzzioli's favor before the Allied Kingdom stepped up to do anything about it, creating a fait accompli, they were probably right. I could only do so much to try and prod the Albish into action, and stumbling into a second Great War against multiple enemies would be suicidal.

Naturally, I couldn't share such pessimistic predictions on live television, but I could start work on my own political self-preservation.

"Out of an abundance of caution, we will be increasing our military readiness. All soldiers currently on leave are expected to report to their units as soon as possible. We will be heightening the security of our borders for the duration of this crisis," I said. "While I hope that the Francois will behave reasonably, I certainly do not intend to allow them to launch yet another surprise invasion. Anybody who steps onto Germanian soil with hostile intent will find only death waiting for them here."

The map of Ildoa shifted to a map of the border between our country and the Francois Republic. The thin black line of the border thickened to several times its original size. When a red arrow from the Francois Republic tried to invade, it bounced off, drooping pitifully as it proved ineffectual. An overly simplified view of border defense, of course, but then this was meant for a television audience.

One of the most important skills for a politician to develop was the ability to manage expectations. On the surface, my statement seemed like bellicose red meat, certain to rile up the voters. Underneath the violent rhetoric, though, I was defining success to be as easy to achieve as possible. Rather than promising a free Ildoa, now I would be successful on my own terms if I could just keep invaders out of Germania.

"The situation is fluid, and negotiations are continuing at the highest level," I said. "As events develop, I myself or another government representative will continue to keep you informed. As always, our mission is to secure the safety and prosperity of the Germanian people."

Sending somebody else out to deliver bad news and suffer the brunt of the mob's anger would be a cowardly act of self-preservation. In other words, it would be right up my alley.

It might not come to that, though. I should stay positive. For all I knew, I could wake up tomorrow to find the whole situation resolved without any effort on my part. It was possible. I had a feeling, though, that it wasn't the right way to bet.

ooOoo​

AN2: Stirring up ethnic tensions in the Balkans is a great way to change out your current problems for a new, more exciting set of problems.