hurrah! it appears my forecast was too pessimistic. Action! Let the dice fall where they may.
-
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Missing a bit there, Russia promising and sending troops as soon as we were done in croatia, Germany following suit a few weeks later.
Please KoM don't be our Italy
Missing a bit there, Russia promising and sending troops as soon as we were done in croatia, Germany following suit a few weeks later.
Please KoM don't be our Italy
Hitler to Mussolini: "Don't be such a wussy, Germany is sending troops as soon as we can free them from Eastern front...."
Yea
Once Japan has annexed Mongolia, perhaps Jodokus can be kind enough to release Some turkish rumbstate for mimicking Rome's past glories and KoM to obedietly observe the rest of the game under comitern's guidanance
Some how I don't see KoM accepting that, he has this crazy concept of sovereignty for his minor displaced tribe from Europe...
Also on Blayne sending troops half way around the world... Quick someone Invade Russia!
Also on Blayne sending troops half way around the world... Quick someone Invade Russia!
Well, he does seem to have learned something, there. He's still got quite sizeable forces defending Russia proper. In fact he'd better, being at war with Punjab.
lack of blayne's defences makes one believing he migth be on the betrayal trail eh
...(*goes to check wheter has schemed something and then forgotten*)
...(*goes to check wheter has schemed something and then forgotten*)
The said militia appear to be quite effectively holding you off. As are my two infantry divisions in the west.
considering it took me the whole war so far to move my troops after wining the battle i believe ive done well on the front.
The Empire of the Volga – V
Boom! Another shell exploded nearby.
“Fuck your goddamn fucking mother down her dumbass cunt garbage chute you stupid fucking shit eating monkey fucking whores!” Ivanova screamed out, rather breathlessly.
Sergeant Ivanova could swear with the best of the men in the recon company.
Being a 'scout' was a specialist job and the recon troops took their job extra seriously, and trained that much harder than any other unit, it was a 100% volunteer outfit as it was a dangerous job with no room for unmotivated cowards.
Suffice it to say that there weren't that many women stepping up to volunteer for it. Old values died a hard slow agonizing death and would kick and scream all the way down, to be a woman and to 'make it' in such an outfit meant dealing with a lot of bullshit from immature fuckheads.
Welcome to the Russian Army, population the stupid, the foolhardy and the crazy.
Welp, Ivanova had thought to herself earlier on, she was damn sure she wasn't going to let herself be the first two.
She resumed her efforts to dig her fox hole just a little bit deeper.
Captain Malinski, bless him, was over a hundred meters away in his own foxhole, he was the best officer a fuck up like her could ever have as a commanding officer. A brave kindly grandfather bear of a man who could fight and drink with the best of them. Who wasn't afraid to kick your ass and throw you into the snow and cold bleeding even if you were a girl if you mouthed off stupidly to him one moment and then... One moment... It'll come....
Ivanova went a bit crosseyed thinking on it as she continued to dig and press herself into the hole just a bit tighter. Anything to distract her from the Punjabi shelling...
Stupid breasts.
They weren't very big but fuck she wanted them to be smaller right about now, getting in the goddamn way.
What was it that Mongolian women did? Cut off their breasts so they could use a bow on horseback easier? Where had she heard that?
Oh right, Captain Malinski, that's where the kindly grandfathery came from. Always willing to lend a hand and help improve you in some way.
And she was the only one whom he opened up to regarding history, his degree was in classical history before joining the army.
What a waste it would've been if he had being some egghead behind a desk.
The shelling moved on further behind now, only a few shells had landed nearby, being recon they were significantly further ahead in their scouting duties. The Punjabi artillerymen simply just had terrible aim.
Ivanova peered up out of her foxhole, she couldn't see Qaragandi from this distance but didn't doubt the direction. This province of Punjabi Kazakstan was very flat only to be punctuated by the occasional low hill and lake. It reminded her of an old joke other scouts who served out here once passed around, “Where is it?” “In Qarawhere!” since the end of 'qaragandi' actually rhymes with the russian “where” as well as an particularly unpleasant obscenity.
Since after all they were “nowhere” afterall...
“Ha ha ha.” She monotoned.
“What at you laughing at Brother Sergeant?” Captain Malinski had crawled her way towards her.
Wait a second...
“Fuck...” She said wide eyed.
For him to have crawled over to her fast enough to hear her must have meant he was crawling over during the shelling.
“Fuck my balls... Captain what the fuck are you doing over here!?”
“That's 'What the fuck are you doing over here? Sir!' to you Sergeant.” he growled.
“Sir! Yes sir!” She saluted in the laziest way possible.
He laughed, by this point he had reached her and gave her a good shove before getting up into a crouch.
He pulled out his German optics.
“Hrrmmm...” He said.
“Brother Captain... Sir?” She asked, wondering if he saw anything.
He sighed heavily and put them away.
“Likely that barrage was meant for somewhere else, I don't see anyth-” A crack shot out from the wilderness, a bullet narrowly missing the Captain forcing him to lunge behind a nearby tree stump.
“Fuck your mothers!” He yelled while pulling out his mosin-nagant, firing a round back in answer.
“Where's your squad Sergeant?” He demanded as he worked the bolt of the rifle.
Ivanova didn't have to answer, several other bullets had answered the Punjabi sniper back from the opposite direction. A scout is doing his job if he isn't easily seen you know?
Ivanova had already grabbed her sniper rifle when the barrage had ended and was peering down the scope now.
There 'it' is.
The Punjabi sniper... No... not a sniper, just a marksman with an above average aim had just relocated behind a different obstruction on the ground. He seemed to be struggling to reload his weapon... Jammed? She didn't pause to find out, she breathed out slowly and pulled the trigger.
The rifle kicked like a mule in an unwelcome effort to rip her shoulder from her torso and the Punjabi marksmen's head exploded in a red mist.
Looking down her rifles optics she spotted movement, an emphasized “Shit.” from near her meant Captain Malinski also now saw the same thing, how the Punjabi managed to outdo a Russian in maskirovka was beyond her.
She reloaded her rifle and prepared to take aim, she was going to kill each and everyone of the motherfuckers that showed his head for more than a second.
“Think anyone else is having as much fun?” She asked.
“Nah, prepared to pull back though, we can't hold em' for long.” He ordered, firing another round as he did so.
**
I'm not sure how I did it but I... Private... No... That's not right anymore, Leutenant Emilia Isayeva managed to get behind the wheel somehow.
Oh and rank. Rank is good.
Problem was... The 'wheel' wasn't for a truck.
It was something called a “barrel” and I am now in the Experimental First barrel'ovoy korpus.
Well at least I got to drive something y'know?
I walked around it, slowly, inspecting it yet again for the hundredth time.
Its turret was rather distinctive, almost... What's the word?
“Hey! Anna! You fucking Umnik get your neckbearded ass over ere'!” She hollered.
Anna ran all right, she got up from her work with the engine and jumped down standing in attention.
I could get used to this, I already had authority I guess, they followed me and our Sergeant and the praporschik were no good not even for providing shit for the wheat fields of Ukraine.
Well they're feeding the crows now, both dead because of Croatian bullets.
“Hey, Anna. What's that shape called?” I was grinning. I knew it was an ellipse, I even knew what kind of ellipse but she just wanted to torment her cute crewmember.
C'mon.... Say it!
Anna looked at the turret and rubbed her eyes and then looked back at her, she sighed probably guessing the outcome but a request from your officer is a request from your officer...
“It's a canted ellipse Brother Lieutenant.” She reported.
“Oh hoo~? They teach you umniks that in schools these days?” I said, pretending to be impressed.
“But don't you receive a University education as well Brother Lieutenant?”
Oh she's going to be a smart ass now? I reached over and grabbed her by the uniform bringing my knee up forcefully to her navel, she gasped as the breath was knocked out of her and fell to the ground as I let her go.
My work completed I looked back to the machine.
“Heeeeeeeeeeee~y! Stas! Stasya~! Wake the fuck up, I got somethin' to say.” I yelled, louder as she was probably sleeping.
Fuck.
I wanted to see that.
Nichevo.
Anastasia popped up from the turret drowsily peering down at the two of us.
“Eh?” She asked.
“Hey! I think I got us a name for this thing.”
“And what is that Brother Lieutenant?”
“Byrka! Because don't you think it looks like a borodavochnik?” A warthog.
“Eeeeh? But a puma would be cuter. It looks like one.”
What.
“What... What the fuck did you just say!?”
“I said...”
“I ALREADY KNOW WHAT THE FUCK YOU JUST SAID SO SHUT THE FUCK UP!” I was fuming.
I pointed.
“It. Has. Tusks! Now what kind of animal... Has Tusks?”
“A... A... A Walrus Brother Lieutenant...?” Asked Anna tentatively.
“A what in god's name now? What the fuck is a Walrus?”
“It's an animal! Honestly! Like a... Like a camel!”
“STOP MAKING UP ANIMALS!”
“Now if nobody else has any more mythical creatures they would like to say, it's... Byrka... Got it?”
“Yes Brother Lieutenant!” They answered together.
I couldn't keep a straight face anymore.
Oh bozhemoy!!! They were just too much!
I burst out laughing, collapsing up against the barrel'.
I wasn't sure for how long I was laughing but I stopped as soon as I heard a particularly awful noise.
“Hrrm khrm.” A coughing noise from nearby trying to get my attention.
Captain's bars... I stood and gave a brisk salute as did my crewmembers.
“If everything is fine here and you have had enough fooling around... Lieutenant I need you to get your tank over to the trainyard a.s.a.p we're redeploying.”
“Eh!?”
Redeploying? Were we being set out east where there was still fighting in Punjab...? Or...
“Where are we going Brother Captain if it isn't classified...?”
The Captain had been already turning to go, no doubt he had other lieutenant's to boss around, fucking asshole.
He turned back and looked at me straight in the eyes.
“Kathay.”
Fuck.
And since that wasn't good enough.
“Fuck.... Brother Captain sir...”
He nodded sagely.
Boom! Another shell exploded nearby.
“Fuck your goddamn fucking mother down her dumbass cunt garbage chute you stupid fucking shit eating monkey fucking whores!” Ivanova screamed out, rather breathlessly.
Sergeant Ivanova could swear with the best of the men in the recon company.
Being a 'scout' was a specialist job and the recon troops took their job extra seriously, and trained that much harder than any other unit, it was a 100% volunteer outfit as it was a dangerous job with no room for unmotivated cowards.
Suffice it to say that there weren't that many women stepping up to volunteer for it. Old values died a hard slow agonizing death and would kick and scream all the way down, to be a woman and to 'make it' in such an outfit meant dealing with a lot of bullshit from immature fuckheads.
Welcome to the Russian Army, population the stupid, the foolhardy and the crazy.
Welp, Ivanova had thought to herself earlier on, she was damn sure she wasn't going to let herself be the first two.
She resumed her efforts to dig her fox hole just a little bit deeper.
Captain Malinski, bless him, was over a hundred meters away in his own foxhole, he was the best officer a fuck up like her could ever have as a commanding officer. A brave kindly grandfather bear of a man who could fight and drink with the best of them. Who wasn't afraid to kick your ass and throw you into the snow and cold bleeding even if you were a girl if you mouthed off stupidly to him one moment and then... One moment... It'll come....
Ivanova went a bit crosseyed thinking on it as she continued to dig and press herself into the hole just a bit tighter. Anything to distract her from the Punjabi shelling...
Stupid breasts.
They weren't very big but fuck she wanted them to be smaller right about now, getting in the goddamn way.
What was it that Mongolian women did? Cut off their breasts so they could use a bow on horseback easier? Where had she heard that?
Oh right, Captain Malinski, that's where the kindly grandfathery came from. Always willing to lend a hand and help improve you in some way.
And she was the only one whom he opened up to regarding history, his degree was in classical history before joining the army.
What a waste it would've been if he had being some egghead behind a desk.
The shelling moved on further behind now, only a few shells had landed nearby, being recon they were significantly further ahead in their scouting duties. The Punjabi artillerymen simply just had terrible aim.
Ivanova peered up out of her foxhole, she couldn't see Qaragandi from this distance but didn't doubt the direction. This province of Punjabi Kazakstan was very flat only to be punctuated by the occasional low hill and lake. It reminded her of an old joke other scouts who served out here once passed around, “Where is it?” “In Qarawhere!” since the end of 'qaragandi' actually rhymes with the russian “where” as well as an particularly unpleasant obscenity.
Since after all they were “nowhere” afterall...
“Ha ha ha.” She monotoned.
“What at you laughing at Brother Sergeant?” Captain Malinski had crawled her way towards her.
Wait a second...
“Fuck...” She said wide eyed.
For him to have crawled over to her fast enough to hear her must have meant he was crawling over during the shelling.
“Fuck my balls... Captain what the fuck are you doing over here!?”
“That's 'What the fuck are you doing over here? Sir!' to you Sergeant.” he growled.
“Sir! Yes sir!” She saluted in the laziest way possible.
He laughed, by this point he had reached her and gave her a good shove before getting up into a crouch.
He pulled out his German optics.
“Hrrmmm...” He said.
“Brother Captain... Sir?” She asked, wondering if he saw anything.
He sighed heavily and put them away.
“Likely that barrage was meant for somewhere else, I don't see anyth-” A crack shot out from the wilderness, a bullet narrowly missing the Captain forcing him to lunge behind a nearby tree stump.
“Fuck your mothers!” He yelled while pulling out his mosin-nagant, firing a round back in answer.
“Where's your squad Sergeant?” He demanded as he worked the bolt of the rifle.
Ivanova didn't have to answer, several other bullets had answered the Punjabi sniper back from the opposite direction. A scout is doing his job if he isn't easily seen you know?
Ivanova had already grabbed her sniper rifle when the barrage had ended and was peering down the scope now.
There 'it' is.
The Punjabi sniper... No... not a sniper, just a marksman with an above average aim had just relocated behind a different obstruction on the ground. He seemed to be struggling to reload his weapon... Jammed? She didn't pause to find out, she breathed out slowly and pulled the trigger.
The rifle kicked like a mule in an unwelcome effort to rip her shoulder from her torso and the Punjabi marksmen's head exploded in a red mist.
Looking down her rifles optics she spotted movement, an emphasized “Shit.” from near her meant Captain Malinski also now saw the same thing, how the Punjabi managed to outdo a Russian in maskirovka was beyond her.
She reloaded her rifle and prepared to take aim, she was going to kill each and everyone of the motherfuckers that showed his head for more than a second.
“Think anyone else is having as much fun?” She asked.
“Nah, prepared to pull back though, we can't hold em' for long.” He ordered, firing another round as he did so.
**
I'm not sure how I did it but I... Private... No... That's not right anymore, Leutenant Emilia Isayeva managed to get behind the wheel somehow.
Oh and rank. Rank is good.
Problem was... The 'wheel' wasn't for a truck.
It was something called a “barrel” and I am now in the Experimental First barrel'ovoy korpus.
Well at least I got to drive something y'know?
I walked around it, slowly, inspecting it yet again for the hundredth time.
Its turret was rather distinctive, almost... What's the word?
“Hey! Anna! You fucking Umnik get your neckbearded ass over ere'!” She hollered.
Anna ran all right, she got up from her work with the engine and jumped down standing in attention.
I could get used to this, I already had authority I guess, they followed me and our Sergeant and the praporschik were no good not even for providing shit for the wheat fields of Ukraine.
Well they're feeding the crows now, both dead because of Croatian bullets.
“Hey, Anna. What's that shape called?” I was grinning. I knew it was an ellipse, I even knew what kind of ellipse but she just wanted to torment her cute crewmember.
C'mon.... Say it!
Anna looked at the turret and rubbed her eyes and then looked back at her, she sighed probably guessing the outcome but a request from your officer is a request from your officer...
“It's a canted ellipse Brother Lieutenant.” She reported.
“Oh hoo~? They teach you umniks that in schools these days?” I said, pretending to be impressed.
“But don't you receive a University education as well Brother Lieutenant?”
Oh she's going to be a smart ass now? I reached over and grabbed her by the uniform bringing my knee up forcefully to her navel, she gasped as the breath was knocked out of her and fell to the ground as I let her go.
My work completed I looked back to the machine.
“Heeeeeeeeeeee~y! Stas! Stasya~! Wake the fuck up, I got somethin' to say.” I yelled, louder as she was probably sleeping.
Fuck.
I wanted to see that.
Nichevo.
Anastasia popped up from the turret drowsily peering down at the two of us.
“Eh?” She asked.
“Hey! I think I got us a name for this thing.”
“And what is that Brother Lieutenant?”
“Byrka! Because don't you think it looks like a borodavochnik?” A warthog.
“Eeeeh? But a puma would be cuter. It looks like one.”
What.
“What... What the fuck did you just say!?”
“I said...”
“I ALREADY KNOW WHAT THE FUCK YOU JUST SAID SO SHUT THE FUCK UP!” I was fuming.
I pointed.
“It. Has. Tusks! Now what kind of animal... Has Tusks?”
“A... A... A Walrus Brother Lieutenant...?” Asked Anna tentatively.
“A what in god's name now? What the fuck is a Walrus?”
“It's an animal! Honestly! Like a... Like a camel!”
“STOP MAKING UP ANIMALS!”
“Now if nobody else has any more mythical creatures they would like to say, it's... Byrka... Got it?”
“Yes Brother Lieutenant!” They answered together.
I couldn't keep a straight face anymore.
Oh bozhemoy!!! They were just too much!
I burst out laughing, collapsing up against the barrel'.
I wasn't sure for how long I was laughing but I stopped as soon as I heard a particularly awful noise.
“Hrrm khrm.” A coughing noise from nearby trying to get my attention.
Captain's bars... I stood and gave a brisk salute as did my crewmembers.
“If everything is fine here and you have had enough fooling around... Lieutenant I need you to get your tank over to the trainyard a.s.a.p we're redeploying.”
“Eh!?”
Redeploying? Were we being set out east where there was still fighting in Punjab...? Or...
“Where are we going Brother Captain if it isn't classified...?”
The Captain had been already turning to go, no doubt he had other lieutenant's to boss around, fucking asshole.
He turned back and looked at me straight in the eyes.
“Kathay.”
Fuck.
And since that wasn't good enough.
“Fuck.... Brother Captain sir...”
He nodded sagely.
The Last Ditch
July 1st, 1940
A cellar in the Curia, New Byzantium
Morning
Meeting in the dank underground storage room was, in Georgos's opinion, a piece of silly melodrama on Konstantin's part; the Japanese did not have enough aircraft on the mainland to waste them on mere terror raids, and anyway New Byzantium had the highest ratio of flak guns to buildings of any city in the Khanate. Besides, the damp made his old bones ache. But Konstantin was Dictator; and if he wanted to feel, in some small way, that he was sharing the dangers and hardships of those at the front, Georgos could hardly blame him.
"All right, let's get started. First point: Defense of the capital. Markos?"
"Yes, sir." The chief of staff had clearly slept in his uniform, which was rumpled and sweat-stained; there were dark circles under his eyes. Even so he looked better than Arkadios, whose Tenth Bureau had signally failed to detect the Japanese buildup in Korea. "We've got civilians out digging trenches from here to Zhangzhen, which is defended by three kataphrakt cohorts of the I Komnenoi. The position at Pinggu has unfortunately become untenable, but we got most of the kataphrakts out in reasonable order; they're falling back on Zhangzhen. We've got five thousand reservists forming up to defend the ground between Zhangzhen and here, if necessary."
Konstantin made an impatient gesture. "I have great respect for the millennial Roman tradition of service in the Legions leading to citizenship, but five thousand reservists are not going to stop a full-dress attack by three Japanese army corps. I take it," he added dryly, "that it's still three, and no additional ones have been discovered?"
All eyes went to Arkadios, who stirred uncomfortably. "Well... not army corps as such, no. But they do seem to have some units which are not accounted for in the official Japanese order of battle for their corps. Volunteer regiments, roughly equivalent to our reservists. Something on the order of three divisional equivalents."
Konstantin blinked. "What is the precise difference between finding three 'divisional equivalents' and finding another unexpected army corps?"
"Er, well. Division equivalents in terms of rifle strength. Not in artillery or supporting arms. And attached to the known corps, not in a separate organisation."
"How the Japanese put org-chart boxes on paper concerns me very little! You're telling me there's an additional thirty thousand rifles out there that we didn't know about?"
"Um, yes. But no guns, or very few."
"Well, that's something, at least. If they're that lightly armed they may actually be more of a hindrance than a help. Let's hope so, anyway." He returned his attention to Markos. "Even so, five thousand reservists is not much to set against their thirty thousand, and then there are their regular troops. What have we got of Legions?"
"Five kataphrakt cohorts have been entrained at Tianjin and are expected to arrive tomorrow. Another ten are loading as we speak. But to accomplish that we've stripped Tianjin to the bone. If the Japs attack there in force I cannot promise it will stand."
"That cannot be helped," Konstantin said grimly. "Every hour brings our allies that much closer. While New Byzantium holds, we can fight; let the enemy into the industrial heartland beyond, and... well. Tianjin can be retaken, at need." That was optimism, perhaps; the Khanate had yet to retake anything the Japanese had occupied, except for the most lightly-held of outposts, not occupied so much as briefly marched through by skirmishing scouts. But then, there were allied troops on the way, fresh from victories in Europe. And the industries of New Byzantium were still mobilising, turning out tanks and rifles that were, now, handed straight to fresh conscripts waiting literally at the factory doors, whence they would walk the twenty miles to the fighting front. Perhaps, indeed, Tianjin could be retaken, if it fell.
"I think," Georgos said into the silence of men contemplating that reassuring thought, "that I have a better idea."
"Yes, yes," Konstantin said, rolling his eyes. "Offer terms of surrender, make peace with Japan, disarm the Legions, and turn the other bloody cheek like the bodhisattva said. Can I just point out that the bodhisattva also expected the end of the world Real Soon Now, and spoke to the poor and powerless? He wasn't offering practical advice for people with actual responsibility."
Georgos shrugged. "You made the leader of the Peace Party your Overseer of Barbarians. If you wanted aggressive advice you should have picked someone else for the job. In fact, yes, I do believe that terms of surrender and unilateral disarmament would be better than this war. Which, let me remind you, was entered into against my advice, in the belief that it would not escalate and that we could pick up some territory on the cheap." He very carefully did not enunciate the phrase I told you so, but the others in the Cabinet clearly heard it anyway, and shifted uncomfortably. "But that option has been rejected by the consensus of the Cabinet, and I chose not to resign over the matter. I wouldn't waste your time by bringing it up again, especially not with Japanese troops standing twenty miles from the Forum."
"All right, all right," Konstantin said irritably. "Let's hear your idea, then."
"There is a faction within the Japanese government," Georgos said, "who, shall we say, have a more charitable view of the bodhisattva than you do."
"Your famous International Solidarity Movement? They are not in power."
"Not officially. But influence sometimes counts for as much as official position." Georgos subtly indicated himself, reminding him that almost his first act upon becoming Dictator had been to invite the leader of the Peace Party to his government, and in the second-most prestigious position at that. "And, of course... the mainland is, in some sense, a sideshow for the Japanese. Even in their war party there are those who believe that the Ethiopian Sea, and its vast commerce, would be a better target for their efforts."
"Japan has wanted to rule that sea for three centuries," Konstantin said thoughtfully. "But a bird in the hand, as they say, is better than two defended by the Black Navy. Do you have a specific offer?"
"I do." Georgos laid out the papers in front of Konstantin. He had placed the map uppermost, showing the territories to be annexed; the rest was just verbiage. Konstantin stared at it in disbelief.
"If we sign this peace," he said slowly, "the citizens will be convinced that I have a mind-control ray. I might almost begin to believe it myself. Are you sure this isn't a trick, some sort of ruse to distract us from the defense of New Byzantium?"
"I can't be certain," Georgos admitted. "Still, I have my ways and my sources, and it looks good to me. I'm not suggesting we turn back the trains taking the kataphrakts to the front. But unless you were planning to conscript the clerks and give them rifles, there's not much the Ministry of Barbarians can do about that. I take it there's a consensus that this is worth pursuing, and that I should do so?"
"Out there we've got boys of fourteen digging the literal last ditch, and men of fifty preparing to fight in it. I think it's fair to say that I'd rather have this peace than that fight, yes. If we can get it. It calls for our allies to give up their Treaty Ports; will they accept that?"
"I believe so," Georgos said. The Ports are indefensible anyway, as our allies just learned to their cost. Short of defeating the Japanese armies in the field, they can't be held. And that would cost oceans of blood."
"All right," Konstantin said. "It's a thin thread, but a hopeful one. Yes, pursue this. We can even give up a little more, if we must; those damn Chinese are almost more trouble than they're worth. I sometimes think we'd have been better off if Lysandros hadn't annexed them."
For a moment the phrase fucking Lysandros hovered on Georgos's lips; but he managed to choke it back. Konstantin's mild hypothetical hardly meant that he was likely to approve of the Peace Party's curse on his party's revered founder. The younger man hadn't been in politics in the tens and early twenties, and wasn't likely to recognise the slogan as a mere habit, a verbal tic. "All right, " he said instead. "Then I've got telegrams to send, and you've got planning to do which doesn't really benefit from my presence."
"Indeed," Konstantin nodded. "Ave, Nika!"
Georgos's mouth twisted. The Dictator was not in fact a Blackshirt; he used their slogan only to needle his Overseer of Barbarian Territories. But now, at last, he had a reply.
"Ave, Eirene."
July 1st, 1940
A cellar in the Curia, New Byzantium
Morning
Meeting in the dank underground storage room was, in Georgos's opinion, a piece of silly melodrama on Konstantin's part; the Japanese did not have enough aircraft on the mainland to waste them on mere terror raids, and anyway New Byzantium had the highest ratio of flak guns to buildings of any city in the Khanate. Besides, the damp made his old bones ache. But Konstantin was Dictator; and if he wanted to feel, in some small way, that he was sharing the dangers and hardships of those at the front, Georgos could hardly blame him.
"All right, let's get started. First point: Defense of the capital. Markos?"
"Yes, sir." The chief of staff had clearly slept in his uniform, which was rumpled and sweat-stained; there were dark circles under his eyes. Even so he looked better than Arkadios, whose Tenth Bureau had signally failed to detect the Japanese buildup in Korea. "We've got civilians out digging trenches from here to Zhangzhen, which is defended by three kataphrakt cohorts of the I Komnenoi. The position at Pinggu has unfortunately become untenable, but we got most of the kataphrakts out in reasonable order; they're falling back on Zhangzhen. We've got five thousand reservists forming up to defend the ground between Zhangzhen and here, if necessary."
Konstantin made an impatient gesture. "I have great respect for the millennial Roman tradition of service in the Legions leading to citizenship, but five thousand reservists are not going to stop a full-dress attack by three Japanese army corps. I take it," he added dryly, "that it's still three, and no additional ones have been discovered?"
All eyes went to Arkadios, who stirred uncomfortably. "Well... not army corps as such, no. But they do seem to have some units which are not accounted for in the official Japanese order of battle for their corps. Volunteer regiments, roughly equivalent to our reservists. Something on the order of three divisional equivalents."
Konstantin blinked. "What is the precise difference between finding three 'divisional equivalents' and finding another unexpected army corps?"
"Er, well. Division equivalents in terms of rifle strength. Not in artillery or supporting arms. And attached to the known corps, not in a separate organisation."
"How the Japanese put org-chart boxes on paper concerns me very little! You're telling me there's an additional thirty thousand rifles out there that we didn't know about?"
"Um, yes. But no guns, or very few."
"Well, that's something, at least. If they're that lightly armed they may actually be more of a hindrance than a help. Let's hope so, anyway." He returned his attention to Markos. "Even so, five thousand reservists is not much to set against their thirty thousand, and then there are their regular troops. What have we got of Legions?"
"Five kataphrakt cohorts have been entrained at Tianjin and are expected to arrive tomorrow. Another ten are loading as we speak. But to accomplish that we've stripped Tianjin to the bone. If the Japs attack there in force I cannot promise it will stand."
"That cannot be helped," Konstantin said grimly. "Every hour brings our allies that much closer. While New Byzantium holds, we can fight; let the enemy into the industrial heartland beyond, and... well. Tianjin can be retaken, at need." That was optimism, perhaps; the Khanate had yet to retake anything the Japanese had occupied, except for the most lightly-held of outposts, not occupied so much as briefly marched through by skirmishing scouts. But then, there were allied troops on the way, fresh from victories in Europe. And the industries of New Byzantium were still mobilising, turning out tanks and rifles that were, now, handed straight to fresh conscripts waiting literally at the factory doors, whence they would walk the twenty miles to the fighting front. Perhaps, indeed, Tianjin could be retaken, if it fell.
"I think," Georgos said into the silence of men contemplating that reassuring thought, "that I have a better idea."
"Yes, yes," Konstantin said, rolling his eyes. "Offer terms of surrender, make peace with Japan, disarm the Legions, and turn the other bloody cheek like the bodhisattva said. Can I just point out that the bodhisattva also expected the end of the world Real Soon Now, and spoke to the poor and powerless? He wasn't offering practical advice for people with actual responsibility."
Georgos shrugged. "You made the leader of the Peace Party your Overseer of Barbarians. If you wanted aggressive advice you should have picked someone else for the job. In fact, yes, I do believe that terms of surrender and unilateral disarmament would be better than this war. Which, let me remind you, was entered into against my advice, in the belief that it would not escalate and that we could pick up some territory on the cheap." He very carefully did not enunciate the phrase I told you so, but the others in the Cabinet clearly heard it anyway, and shifted uncomfortably. "But that option has been rejected by the consensus of the Cabinet, and I chose not to resign over the matter. I wouldn't waste your time by bringing it up again, especially not with Japanese troops standing twenty miles from the Forum."
"All right, all right," Konstantin said irritably. "Let's hear your idea, then."
"There is a faction within the Japanese government," Georgos said, "who, shall we say, have a more charitable view of the bodhisattva than you do."
"Your famous International Solidarity Movement? They are not in power."
"Not officially. But influence sometimes counts for as much as official position." Georgos subtly indicated himself, reminding him that almost his first act upon becoming Dictator had been to invite the leader of the Peace Party to his government, and in the second-most prestigious position at that. "And, of course... the mainland is, in some sense, a sideshow for the Japanese. Even in their war party there are those who believe that the Ethiopian Sea, and its vast commerce, would be a better target for their efforts."
"Japan has wanted to rule that sea for three centuries," Konstantin said thoughtfully. "But a bird in the hand, as they say, is better than two defended by the Black Navy. Do you have a specific offer?"
"I do." Georgos laid out the papers in front of Konstantin. He had placed the map uppermost, showing the territories to be annexed; the rest was just verbiage. Konstantin stared at it in disbelief.
"If we sign this peace," he said slowly, "the citizens will be convinced that I have a mind-control ray. I might almost begin to believe it myself. Are you sure this isn't a trick, some sort of ruse to distract us from the defense of New Byzantium?"
"I can't be certain," Georgos admitted. "Still, I have my ways and my sources, and it looks good to me. I'm not suggesting we turn back the trains taking the kataphrakts to the front. But unless you were planning to conscript the clerks and give them rifles, there's not much the Ministry of Barbarians can do about that. I take it there's a consensus that this is worth pursuing, and that I should do so?"
"Out there we've got boys of fourteen digging the literal last ditch, and men of fifty preparing to fight in it. I think it's fair to say that I'd rather have this peace than that fight, yes. If we can get it. It calls for our allies to give up their Treaty Ports; will they accept that?"
"I believe so," Georgos said. The Ports are indefensible anyway, as our allies just learned to their cost. Short of defeating the Japanese armies in the field, they can't be held. And that would cost oceans of blood."
"All right," Konstantin said. "It's a thin thread, but a hopeful one. Yes, pursue this. We can even give up a little more, if we must; those damn Chinese are almost more trouble than they're worth. I sometimes think we'd have been better off if Lysandros hadn't annexed them."
For a moment the phrase fucking Lysandros hovered on Georgos's lips; but he managed to choke it back. Konstantin's mild hypothetical hardly meant that he was likely to approve of the Peace Party's curse on his party's revered founder. The younger man hadn't been in politics in the tens and early twenties, and wasn't likely to recognise the slogan as a mere habit, a verbal tic. "All right, " he said instead. "Then I've got telegrams to send, and you've got planning to do which doesn't really benefit from my presence."
"Indeed," Konstantin nodded. "Ave, Nika!"
Georgos's mouth twisted. The Dictator was not in fact a Blackshirt; he used their slogan only to needle his Overseer of Barbarian Territories. But now, at last, he had a reply.
"Ave, Eirene."
Big happenings! Japan drops out intending to switch sides; the International Solidarity Movement (also known as being fully isolationist) prevents joining any alliances. Russia switches sides! German and Spanish troops slice deep into the Ukraine. African landings in Rome fail!
Its to simulate how in visual novels you click to progress the story, also mimic'ing japanese light novel literary conventions.
Human eyes tend to skim over large blocks of text, so by diviying it up into lines it forces you to read it.