Chapter Nineteen: My Mirror, My Sword, My Shield

Organising a conspiracy to overthrow the government was easy: it was merely a matter of setting up the time and location of the initial meeting to recruit potential agents. The real difficulty in this instance was the matter of leadership.

While the idea of a putsch is not exclusive to Herr Heidler, as I would gladly overthrow President Dollfuss in any other situation, I still have preferred a straight trip to Beograd undisturbed by Osterrian politics. While I am no stranger to the importance of political pageantry, tying my reputation with coup d'etats filled me with a gnawing dread that clawed at my mind and heart like a cancerous disease. I don't want the institutions of the military and the civilian government to be indistinguishable from each other; the atomic bombings remain fresh in Japanese memories, and I certainly don't want any upstart general thinking he can do a better job than the Brass or the President.

I may not always agree with their decisions but good soldiers must learn to trust the judgement and foresight of their commanding officers regardless of their personal feelings just as said officers must learn to lead without doubt, with eyes unclouded by delusions and falsehoods.

Nor do I want mob rule in Osterry. Laws, barriers, regulations; we need them all to have a functional, stable society safe for democracy. Without them, we live among the animals and survive just as long.

But to have Herr Heidler as the main conspirator leader? It would certainly prevent Chancellor Berning and Herr Schlage from thinking the worst of me. At best, they can regard me as a whisperer, a corrupter if they grow to truly hate me, rather than an unsubtle force of oblivion. Herr Heidler…is not a politician by any stretch of the imagination. He'll make a half-decent mayor of a town or village or even a city council representative if he puts his mind to it but his politics is guided by a sort of naive optimism as if he were still a child reading fairy tales and not an adult male who endured man-made hell for nearly a decade.

He is a chef and a soldier. An amateur artist to boot. A baker who wants to make his cake and eat it too. To the men who mastered the art of Imperial politics, before and after Trianofication, Herr Heidler has no credentials save his ass except for my association and dare I say, my growing amicability. Other than the friends he made during his tenure in military service, he is marching forward to enact a 'revolution' with no real allies; lost in direction and purpose once Dollfuss has been removed. Osterry would eat itself in the chaos.

And then there's the question of leadership in the provisional government that would set up new elections in Osterry. Obviously, my candidacy would be all but assured. However, my affairs must remain in Germania nor shall I neglect my original mission to regain the Progressive's goodwill in Yugoslavia. This then leads back to Herr Heidler, if he is going to be the face of the revolution, then it is only natural for him to assume the role. A daunting task however temporary yet, it was refreshing to encounter someone who truly understood his limits. He knows his flaws, he knows his ignorance, and yet he seemed to be determined to take on this calamity with nothing but naked idealism and blind trust in God.

Again, naive.

"Do you really think your prayers will be answered?" I asked of him, perhaps with more fire in words than I had liked. "Do you really want his aid?"

We sat in a moderately sized beer hall that had cleaned up quite nicely since the boycott as the owners were Southern Illdoans who immigrated to the Empire. The married couple that owned the establishment had every reason to dislike the increasingly authoritarian regime and thus, took little convincing to operate as our collaborators. Ironically, they sided with the Empire over their country of origin due to better political freedoms, more economic mobility, and better labour compensation.

"Why not? We are his children, after all. He is our Holy Father." he replied.

"A neglectful father is what he is. An abusive one at that."

Herr Heidler regarded me with bewildered eyes.

"How can you say that? Weren't you raised by nuns? Mankind's evil is our own. You saw his miracles. You carried his sword into battle. You prayed in his name."

"It did not mean I enjoyed it. Yes, I did pray. Yes, I did fight for the Fatherland. I didn't just pray for victory. I prayed for peace. I prayed for rationality. I prayed that the brass and Kaiser would realise how fast we were approaching hell."

"You believed God was cruel for extending the war?" He inquired softly.

"Yes," I answered. "What god regards his creations with envious eyes? He saw our progress, our achievements, he saw all the monuments we have built and grew sour and ever more despondent. God has long since neglected to use his power to better our lives so we, as humans, did it ourselves."

"God was… jealous? That can't be."

"Herr Heidler, how does a man keep power over another?"

"By making him suffer?" He said slowly, unsure of his answer.

"Exactly. You know the scripture." I continued, "So how does God keep power over Man?"

"By - by making Man suffer. Argent Silver…I - I don't think I like where this conversation is going. We are his children, He loves us, and he wants us to live free and happy lives."

Free? What is freedom to an entity of infinite power and authority? What is happiness to a being that finds our joy to be inadequate? I laughed softly at his response though he did not share the sentiment.

"Pardon me for asking, but are you still a godly woman?" He whispered. "Are you not his champion?"

"You should know that not all of God's holy warriors volunteered for the job, some were merely coerced into the role." I reminded him.

"Like yourself?

"Yes. I refused then and I would refuse now if given another encounter with him."

"Wait…YOU met GOD?" he stood up straighter in his seat.

Me and my big mouth. I should not have said anything at all…

"Yes." I huffed, as sarcastically as I could be, "He…came to me in a vision at the moment of my death and wanted me to serve him as…his champion. He gave me a miracle to prove that he was serious."

"Wow." Heidler stared at me with a gaping mouth, "I didn't realise you were so…vulnerable at the start. To meet him as a young baby too! No wonder you're bitter about it; you didn't know what you signed up for."

I rolled my eyes at his newfound sympathy, the last thing I ever wanted from him right now. "That can be said for all of us."

We did not have to wait long before our first guest emerged through the fronts. Though he was initially cautious, peering into the beer hall with a tinge of fear, his mood quickly turned to joy when he spotted Heidler. He practically skipped into the room like a schoolboy despite his thin, lean body and gaunt face indicating a period of starvation during the Great War. Though his eyes were haunting to look at as if I was peering into the eyes of Dr. Schugel, his hilariously thick eyebrows were impossible to ignore. It was like seeing two fat, fuzzy caterpillars resting on someone's face; if he didn't get him trimmed soon enough, it would grow to become a unibrow.

"You mad bastard." the young man embraced Heidler in a tight bear hug. "You're actually doing it! We're going to die but hell, you're actually serious!"

"We?" Heidler smirked, "So you're in?"

"Of course, I'm in! Fuck Dollfuss and his Francis backers! Sorry for taking so long, I went out to remind our battalion about this reunion."

"Oh, that's good!" Heidler soon turned over to face me. "Allow me the honor and privilege to introduce Tanya von Degurechaff, the Argent Silver, who has come to Osterry to aid us. Argent, this is my dear friend Richard Hessen-Buhler. We fought together in Illdoa."

"Already cheating on your wife?" Hessen-Buhler looked confused as he looked in my direction. "How much did he pay you for your silence?"

"Huh-what? No. NO!" Heidler turned red in cheeks, the colour of strawberries. "It's her, Richard! It's really HER!"

I directed Hessen-Buhler to look at my medal, the White Winged Grand Iron Cross, and his jaws dropped to the floor. His eyes grew as large as dinner plates as he looked at me once more, from the golden locks on my head to my polished shoes below, and the longer he looked at me, the more intense and unnerving it was to stare at his smile. Immediately he dropped down to one knee, leaned forward, and kissed my hand with such repeated intensity that chills were sent up my spine like a dozen crawling centipedes. I was seriously contemplating gouging his eyes out if it weren't for Heidler pulling his friend away from me as if he were a drug addict.

"Jesus Christ, Richard, this is why you need to start dating a girl that doesn't have blonde hair and blue eyes. Get yourself a Bohemian lady for once. Or a Magyar." Heidler chastised his friend and got him to sit at a nearby table. "Sorry about my friend; he is an avid reader of your exploits."

"It is alright," I replied through gritted teeth before turning away glare at the beer hall entrance once more. I really hope Hessen-Buhler was not the type of man to have loose lips, I rather not have to deal with another shootout. To pass the time, I regrettably had to make small talk with Heidler's friend.

From what Heidler told me, Hessen-Buhler was from Aegyptus, being born thereafter his family moved to the Albish colony to set up their trading company. Of course, the family business ceased to exist during the Great War when Albion clamped down hard on Imperial-owned businesses operating in their empire.

"Did you enjoy your time living under Albish rule?" I inquired, genuinely curious about his perspective.

Hessen-Buhler simply stared blankly at his mug of beer, growing increasingly silent at my question, before telling me his answer. "I did. It was great."

"What was it like-"

"I don't think I'll miss that life very much. The blockade made me realise that the Empire, Greater Germania, is my real home."

"I understand." I held my tongue. I don't like getting interrupted but it was my fault for not waiting long enough to see he was finished. "Welcome home then."

His smile was unnerving; too much it reminded me of Visha and Elena whenever they saw me.

The first guests to arrive next were Heidler's brothers-in-arms of the 421st Infantry Battalion, soldiers and officers alike who all greeted him as if he won the lottery. If Heidler wasn't already liked by his peers before, they certainly will do so now that he has allowed them to finally talk to me face to face and drink with me. Of course, I drank sparingly so as not to lose my wits in a drunken stupor; often requesting milk or cold water from the bartender instead.

For a group of combat veterans being told the chance of getting involved to potentially, violently, overthrow the government, they were merely interested in war stories, which I appreciated, and my personal love life, which I did not. I understand how Imperial propaganda tends to lightly embellish, as my accomplishments were already unprecedented and thus, unrealistic; but I realised how little my exploits were mythologized by the common soldier. When it comes to my tales of heroism, the men acted as if they were shepherds at night who witnessed one of God's angels descending from Heaven to greet them but when they inquired about Visha and her 'closeness' towards me as my second-in-command, their mood turned quite lecherous. I may not have forgiven her yet for arranging the November Boycott but I still took offence towards their crude remarks.

The next lot were representatives from the Social Democrat Workers Party of Osterry, the offshoot of the SPD, led by chairman Karmann Rend. The elderly, white-bearded politician was initially off-put by the sheer presence of armed veterans and swore that must have gotten the wrong address. Rend and his entourage would have disappeared onto the streets if it weren't for me jumping from my seat and making my presence immediately known to him. Given his personal connections with Erbel and Herimann, he has every right to be wary of me, as unfair as it was personally, but nonetheless, Rend had an open mind to hear me out first.

While he preferred to be in a leadership position in this grass-roots movement, he recognized that Social Democrats are still the most hated politicians and activists in Central Europe, save for Communists themselves, and content being the operators behind the curtain. He was initially intimidated by the prospects of the Provisional Government given my influence among the populace but when I explained my plans to get back to Germania, Rend's expression grew a lot more amicable, and offered to speak to the Progressive Bloc on my behalf. A pleasant surprise I graciously accepted; with his backing, my 'redemption' will grow ever closer.

After the SDAPO, came the Centrist Party of Osterry, the Ostzentrum; Herr Heidler's party, led by Chairman Walder Miklann. From what Heidler had explained previously, Miklann confirmed that the Centrist Party was fractured between Ostnationalists and Pan-Germanians; those Ostnationalists moved to join Dollfuss's coalition, becoming one of his core supporters in passing increasingly discriminatory laws targeting minorities in Osterry. Unlike Rend, Chairman Miklann was rather portly; with a thin moustache on a round face onto a slightly rounder body that did nothing to dispel the rumours that he used his political position to hoard valuable rations while the rest of Osterry starved.

"Well Addy," Miklann grunted as he saw the first of his political rivals sitting in their own corner in the beer hall, "You really outdone yourself…not only have you found the Ace of Aces, you managed to get Rend to show his face in public again."

Heidler looked unusually pleased with himself; I wonder what he did in Ostzentrum before meeting me.

"I'm sure Chancellor Berning has plenty of words to say when he was describing me to you." I waved Heidler away and guided Miklann to an empty side of the beer hall, well out of earshot. I should get these conversations concluded as soon as possible.

"Oh, like you wouldn't believe…" the chairman grumbled though his mouth curled into a wicked grin.

"What did he say?"

"That you're a Napoleon with breasts - his description was more vulgar, mind - a Fascist sympathiser, and a suspected deviant."

"Deviant? The only woman I have been remotely intimate with is Viktoriya, my former associate," I explained coldly. "I removed her from my life."

"I had suspected," Miklann repeated. "A schemer, a manipulator, a sophist, a war criminal…"

"Seriously? Has he forgotten all I have done for him and his coalition? The Fireside Chats? The negotiations with the conservatives to reach an agreement over war debts? And my efforts to dispel violent conspiracies? Not even my hired services to assist Daneland and Magyraozag?"

"Frau Degurechaff, you need to understand that when it comes to politics, people have ridiculously short-term memories. At least, they act like they have short-term memory."

"I'm trying to help them…" I gritted my teeth.

"And I believe you." He held up his hands in protest. "Just that your past participation is oddly mixed. Politicians, including generals, don't like mixed loyalties; I can speak from experience."

"Can you clear up the bad air between me and Berning?" I requested.

"You expect me to convince that ass to reconsider his previous opinions?" He regarded me with humorous eyes, "Wish me luck!"

Perhaps Berning was right to assume the worst of me. War heroes make terrific idols to unsavory ideologues. Not to say the representatives of the right-wing Greater Germanic People's Party were the same as the fascist dumbasses that Heidler's Freikorps friend was a part of, but they were pretty darn close. Deeply conservative, traditionalists, and representing the interests of the Imperial aristocrats, they were by far the smallest contingent that joined our conspiracy.

Like the Ostzentrum, a large portion of this Pan-Germanian party shifted over to Dollfuss's regime but not out of naked racism, far from it, as the tyrant was making a better attempt to appeal to populist sentiment than these elitists.

The chairman reminded me of Herr Goering if Goering genuinely lacked any sort of natural charm. The only thing impressive about Walder Rimer is his majestic beard and moustache; I declined him the superficial honour of kissing my hand and immediately directed him and his small party to an empty table to sulk at. No doubt Rimer was just the spokesperson; a puppet to the Osterrian barons, officers, and junkers, sent here to feel me out and share his reports with his masters. I really wonder though if his connections were confined in Osterry.

I'd rather have Zettour stay in Germania and out of my affairs.

By the time the sun had fully set and the dark, starry night washed over us like a blanket, the once quiet, desolate beer hall was filled with laughter and joy. Who knew that such violent rivalries could be smoothed over with a pint of cold beer and hot, buttered garlic bread?

Of course, not everyone had the same level of good humour as Rend and Rimer spent more time trading jabs and barbs than contemplating the future of Osterry. These are grown men, one of which has a body count to his name, demeaning each other as if they were petulant, motherless children. Then again, if this is how they are every time they meet, it would explain how Dollfuss managed to centralise his authority and how the boycott was not thwarted when its sentiment was brought over.

We were joined by other like-minded independents who had one grievance or many with the status quo, who all lost, or nearly lost, something or someone, in the boycott. Heidler and a few others were concerned about spies lurking within the beer hall but given he was the one who made the phone calls, there wasn't much I could do for background checks. Besides, I'm not too opposed to Dollfuss hearing about us. Let him know that a reckoning will come if he does not stop his current ambitions.

Unfortunately, that satisfactory thought gave way to Visha's face, much to my irksome, but I could not dispel it. Should I hold her accountable for the November Boycott spreading into post-Imperial states like an infectious disease? If so, how much? On the other hand, should I hold Zhabotinski accountable for Visha's actions? If he had verified his intelligence instead of jumping to conclusions, the boycott, my expulsions, and being here in Osterry, none of it would have happened. I would not have to send Visha away.

If Zhabotinski had not been so brash into attacking the first suspected enemy he came across; if my followers and allies had not orchestrated the boycott in retaliation, would I still have uncovered Visha's hidden prejudices? Everyone has a bias, that is true, and I applaud her still for putting the needs of the movement before her own desires but I cannot feel anything else besides a gnawing unease. To think that she held such violent and unsavoury views behind a soft smile, loving eyes, gentle hands, and an ever-studious work ethic.

To think that she was among people who would have chosen to spend the rest of their days doing nothing but work, eat, and raise a family. But if allowed to act out their worst desires; to avenge every slight, every insult, whether real or imagined, against a metaphorical enemy by a power-hunger demagogue…

The feeling of oppression, the feeling of being a victim, are very different than being oppressed and made into victims. For a modern society that has seen the Scientific Revolution and the Enlightenment, we are regressing to the rule of appetite rather than progressing toward rationality. They could have had everything. They could have ruled the world but they could not rule themselves.

I sighed heavily.

If none of this happened. If there was no Konigsberg. If there was no November Boycott. If I didn't have to go south.

Would I still discover the darkness residing inside Visha's heart?

Would I still send her away or keep her by my side?

Would she keep it a secret if I had asked her?

Would she tell me the truth if she knew what my response would be?

"You're being awfully melancholic tonight. It feels more like a party than a conspiracy here." Heidler shook me out of my thoughts when he sat across from me at my small booth. He slid me a plate of buttered garlic toast and a glass of cold water. "My friend Alfred has been delayed but he will come shortly. If not, feel free to roast him if you meet him again."

"Herr Heidler…" I began slowly, taking small nibbles as I ignored his small joke. "Can I ask you a question?"

"Ask away. You are always welcome to ask."

"Is there anything about Ruth that you wish to change?"

Herr Heidler blinked a few times. His chewing reduced to a snail's crawl through his eyes were no less brighter.

"Why? What brought this on?"

"Just answer it. Please."

"Nothing." He smirked. "There's nothing I would change. If anything, I would change myself."

"Why?" I questioned. Surely it can't be that simple. "How can you say that?"

"My father was a terrific bookkeeper, the best of the best in the Imperial civil service, but he was a flawed man. Numbers he understood. Numbers he can work with. But people? He either takes it or he leaves it. As you can imagine, he was a stern husband and a harsher father. He tore up my silly drawings back then."

"And yet you still loved him."

"Indeed, it was not until death caught up to him did my father truly regretted everything. He spent his last days learning how to paint from me. I'd rather have him die in love than in shame." Heidler grinned. "I must admit that in my worst moments, I acted more like my father than I would have liked towards Ruth. The current times make it much harder to control myself."

"Is that what you would do?" I asked him. "You wish to change yourself? To what exactly? Back to the good old days?"

"Not really. Because back then, that was before I met Ruth. Believe me, I was very naive and reckless in my youth."

"No one is perfect, Heidler. Surely there is something you would change about her."

"Right, Ruth isn't perfect but she doesn't need to be. I married Ruth, not a marble statue carved by the greatest artist in Ancient Hellas. Besides, she can change herself just as well"

"You speak as if it is a straightforward affair. Such transformations can never be that simple."

"Of course it is." Herr Heidler smiled graciously. "To change is to love. I'm not overthrowing Dollfuss because I hate him - I mean, I do hate him but that's not my primary reason - I'm doing this because I don't want to lose Ruth. Dollfuss can condemn my art, my business, and my family for all I care. I will not let him condemn Ruth. You said it yourself…that he wants her gone. I won't stand for that."

"I see," I muttered harshly under my breath. "I can't believe I am taking relationship advice from Hitler…"

"Who?" the moustached chef perked up, looking ready to delve into gossip.

"Nothing. It's nothing."

"A secret admirer? Who is he?"

"She." I corrected him. To hell with it. I'm already staying in his house. What is one more piece of insanity to partake in? "She says she loves me but…"

"But?" He regarded me with earnest eyes.

"She…shamed me. She held dark secrets from me. And I sent her away."

"Then she shouldn't be a problem anymore, right?"

"I can't stop thinking about her and what she did," I told him.

"Oh. OH!" His smile turned into a slight frown. "Don't worry, I won't judge. Sounds like you should get back to her."

"She is the one that created this mess in the first place. She is the one who gave the idea of the November Boycott."

The chef looked down at his plate before aimlessly swirling his mug. "Why did she do it?"

"She says she loves me."

"Love?"

"Exactly. Her love of me and her hatred of everyone else."

"Then all the more reason to go back to her."

"And ignore everything she has done to me? To you?"

"That's not what I'm saying." Heidler shook his head.

"Then what is it? How can you be so forgiving?" I could not believe my ears.

"Degurechaff…it seems to me that if you don't tell her what she needs to hear, then she will find someone who will tell her what she wants to hear."

"Heidler, she is the instigator for the November Boycott. She had set Germania alight."

"And I am overthrowing a democratically elected president; blood will be spilled." He whispered harshly, "The things we do for love!"

Before I could retort, we both realised that the beer hall was reduced to hush tones at the arrival of the next set of co-conspirators. I looked over and saw Alfred and he had brought his friends to join us. Judging by their faces, they were equally displeased to see us. One portly man with a pencil moustache, most likely the leader of Alfred's fascist party, looked ready to explode in fury when he locked eyes with Chairman Rend.

"If this is a joke," the man angrily huffed, "Then this is surely done in poor taste."

"Likewise, my good sir." I got out of my seat to meet him on the floor, causing heads to turn in my direction. "If you choose to stay loyal to the government, then please, leave and speak no more of it."

"Who the hell are you, harlot?" he spat, "Just because you have her sapphire eyes and golden locks does not mean you are Argent Silver. You may have these fucks fooled by your bewitching charm, but -"

"Commander Pabble," Alfred immediately shook his superior's shoulder, "That is HER. It is actually Argent Silver."

"Oh wonderful, you manage to pull the wool over his eyes too." Pabble brushed away his hand, "Who the fuck think you are, girl?"

"Someone who spent eight years of her childhood killing men," I replied coldly, briefly flashing my war medal. "Someone who became an adult killing men."

"What a fancy pin. "He sneered, "Where did you get that? Theatre school? I admit you dress better than most. Perhaps I'll play the fool and be deceived to honour your efforts."

Only he was the one laughing at his poor joke while everyone else looked on with worry and amusement. At that moment, Alfred looked rather embarrassed.

"The Kaiser himself gifted this fancy pin. For defending his subjects and his soldiers in Norden. Sit and partake in our activities, I will gladly indulge in the details."

Thankfully, my words finally breached through that thick skull of his when Pabble's sly grin slowly disappeared from his face.

"What gave you the right to demand me to sit?" He demanded, not yet willing to concede.

"I defeated the Legadonian Entente, twice in Norden skies, to protect our countrymen when they had ten times my number. I had led the vanguard in the Rhineland to liberate the Fatherland from the Francois, drove them back from Imperial borders, and planted the Kaiser's banner in Parisee. I killed every mage the Albish and the Americans have sent my way and smashed the Red Army in Pullska and Preussia. I fought for the freedom and self-determination of our Magyar brothers against the Dacians. Tell me, Commander Pabble, if you are indeed worthy of rank, what have you done to serve the Empire and thus, refuse me?"

I have every right to demand anything from you.

He evaded my question with a tail between his legs and led his followers to an empty table, silent as a grave, while Alfred, to his credit, moved over to talk to Heidler. When Pabble made the mistake of challenging my gaze, I glared right back at him and he immediately found the hospitality of the Illdoans to be more appealing to look at.

With that affair done, I walked back to where Heidler was to alert him that it was time.

"Do you have your speech ready?" I inquired of him.

"Speech? Do you mean the note cards I brought?" He showed me only one and it contained a single line of thought.

"No. I mean an actual speech."

"Uh no?"

"Why the hell not?"

"I didn't have the time."

"You had 24 hours."

"Easy for you to say! I'm not a gifted orator like you. But don't worry, I know what to say."

I rubbed my temple in pure anguish. This cannot be the man who will lead a revolution to overthrow a tyrant. I was about to strangle the chef but he left his seat before I had a chance to wrap my hands around his neck.

"Rivals and associates, friends and allies, alike." Heidler began, taking the stage usually reserved for musicians. "All of you present received my phone calls but from those who received the news from word of mouth: this is not a farce. This is a real conspiracy; we are gathered here tonight for the express purpose of stopping President Dollfuss once and for all. Disunity may stop us from overthrowing the Fascist monster but inaction will. Call me a doomsayer but I have been revealed the truth that Dollfuss' ambitions will not end at the boycott. He intends to destroy us all. Physically. He intends to wipe the slate clean."

A round of murmurs erupted from the crowd; some were already jeering, many more in quiet disbelief.

"My fellow countrymen, I ask you all to set aside your ideologies and work together for a common cause. The same cause that once united the Empire; a dream of a future where any man, woman, and child is free from fear and hunger. To dream like Hellas and to build like Rome. To rise above the naysayers and achieve the impossible. We are brothers, not just in blood, but by honour, tradition, and faith in God."

Oh wonderful, I shook my head in exacerbation; does he really think that flowery words and shallow dreams will overthrow a government? He is talking to adults, not infants drinking yet weaned from their mother's milk.

"Dollfuss is a criminal without question. He sowed self-hatred among the people, brought discourse to society, and built a regime upon lies and hate. He forgets, and he wants us to forget, that Germania, the Empire, is a land of poets and thinkers; our history is forged through the fires of war and industry. More than just a nation of iron and blood, we created Art! We have seen the folly of mankind and sought to rise above the dirt and reach Heaven itself."

Ironically, it was Chairman Rend who clapped first, forcing his followers to follow suit. Miklas looked unimpressed in comparison.

"Let the Albish hold dominion over the seas! Let the Francois hold dominion over the earth! Our place is among the stars! We are the heirs of Weissenburg and Roswitha! The heirs of Goethe and Schiller! The heirs of Mozart and Chopin! The blood of Charlemagne flows through us! Menzi! Markus! Neuburg! Schinkel! A hundred more names I can say! It is no coincidence our great history is filled with such great men and women! In all our history, we sought the truth, we sought to uncover the unknown and venture forth into strange new worlds. We looked to the stars for answers but Dollfuss made us return to the dirt and live among the worms. Is that to be our fate? To become nothing but shattered glass to be swept up and thrown away? To become something that we are not? I ask you all, politicians and soldiers alike, since when did we grow to tolerate things we find naturally intolerable?"

Finally, some results from his demagoguery. Now the crowd was starting to buy into his pretty words. Does he have all of that written in his notes? His handwriting must be impressive to fit on something so small and compact.

"Is this the future we want to bring our children into? To be surrounded by hate and misery? To be dominated by cold machinery and iron hearts? By God, the Empire was strong back then! We were there when it was united. We were there when we saw the fruits of our labour. When citizenship and duty mattered more than blood and name. When laws and men were made of true steel and not of flimsy copper! Dollfuss said that the Empire is dead. That the dream of Rome is dead! That Charlemagne's heirs have failed!"

Now Heidler was sweating like a pig. It was almost amusing to see him prattle on and on. But seriously, where is the steel behind his velvet words? No one will follow us on speeches alone.

"I'd say NO! Dollfuss is wrong! The Dragon Lives and it Roars! The Empire is not yet dead! We are not yet defeated! Greater Germania Above All!"

I was already panicking when the entire beer hall erupted into loud cheers and chanting. By God, if Heidler had a handlebar moustache, I would rip it off. This was not the plan. The scope was limited only to putting an end to the autocratic rule of the Fatherland Front; bringing back the Empire was not it! Why can't anyone just move on from it? The Ostnationalist project could work if led by someone saner than Dollfuss. Why? Just why? How can they not move on from this?

Heidler's eyes wandered from one person to the next before eventually meeting my frustrated gaze. I held it long enough to force him to shuffle uneasily on the stage. Artists and their silly visions to accomplish the impossible. He made the right decision to step down from the stage and allow me to take his place.

Unlike Heidler, I chose not to fill the audience's heads with smoke; I brought back down to the earth to get the various interest groups to recognize that that was against us. Dollfuss was undesirable as a leader but to wait long enough for the communists to overthrow would spell a different sort of disaster. Unity is paramount, now more than ever, to avoid being forced to pick a lesser evil.

I moved on to the topic of the November Boycott in Osterry and while I was expecting the Pan-Germanian Fascists to get up and leave the beer hall, they chose to stay and listen as I went over all I had witnessed in the aftermath of mass hysteria. I spoke of Heidler and his restaurant, or what remains of it, and when I spoke of Ruth and her family, Commander Pabble was oddly silent, perhaps reflective?

If that's the case, progress is achieved; once he starts thinking about how flawed his line of thinking must have been, Pabble would have to turn around.

"Chairman Rend," I turned to speak towards the elder party member, "You and the Social Democrats have made the unenviable position to negotiate peace with the Western Allies in Triano. A decision that saw the Empire humiliated, dismembered, and its people scattered and destitute. You have dishonoured the Kaiser, brought shame to the Imperial Armed Forces, and saved us all from calamity. You have done the impossible and brought peace back to Europe.

The people of Germania may condemn you all for it but I do not. I am fully aware of how difficult the decision may have been but it had to be done. Perhaps in time, future generations will look back and recognize that you have done a great service to the people of the Empire, even if the party had paid the ultimate price.

It was not folly to wish for peace, Chairman Rend. Nor was it folly to be among those to sign the Treaty of Triano. What was foul play was when you expected the Western Allies to be anything but benevolent in their intentions. Look at what happened in Magyars and tell me who came to their aid when they called for help. Look at the Danes and tell me who defended their borders during the Danish Strait Crisis."

Not to let Rend be the only one left hanging on the meathook, I turned over to glare at Ostzentrum leader who shivered in his seat almost immediately.

"Chairman Miklann, don't delude yourself for a second that you and your party are above the competition; falsely thinking that our rivals would be content leaving us to squabble in the ashes. Even you can see the tyranny of the Western Allies and the Russy Federation casting a dark shadow over Europe. Not even the Pope will save us no matter how many letters you write to him."

That forced the representative to stand up from his seat in protest though I didn't give him a chance to speak.

"Yes, you heard me right, Miklann. Where was the Pope when the Empire was unjustly attacked by the Francois Republic and the Legadonian Entente? Where were his honeyed words when the Empire was starving and Brussels was put to the torch? Where were his decrees of excommunications when tens of thousands of our countrymen were murdered and enslaved by the Francois? The last time I checked, Pius XI was unarmed, unarmored, and surrounded by Illdoan guns during the Great War. When you look at his face, do you see a saviour?

The Pope did not see us worthy of his attention then and he certainly is not going to come to our aid now. Recognizing him as just another political actor with fallible interests will be the best thing you can ever do for your party, more than winning the federal election."

With a sigh, I turned my head to look over at the men who made up the Greater Germanic People's Party. Despite their deeply conservative values, they did not seem offended at all that I had taken the stage. Their joyful mirth turned to ash when I pointed out their obsolete ideology. If there was one good that this war has brought upon the world, it is that it finally brought an end to antiquated social norms and introduced new political and social freedoms to the masses.

Technology has outpaced culture and the war broke the illusion that the world would continue as it was for the next 100 years. It's a new world that these conservatives must learn to accept and adapt to. They would have an easier time drinking wine from a shattered glass than to convince a newly-minted office lady who gained her paycheck and personal bank account to get back into the kitchen. That is until these conservatives gain the power to suppress female suffrage.

Sensing a trend, Pabble's smile was wiped off his face when his eyes met mine and saw that it was finally his turn to be dragged over burning coal.

"It is known, Commandant Pabble, that the Imperial Army has no shortage of cowards, idiots, and other troublesome glory hounds that remained cowards, idiots, and glory hounds - no amount of bullets and bandages could ever cure them of their flaws. Contrary to popular belief, war does not discriminate between the virtuous and the flawed. The soldiers who clung to honour and principle died just as needlessly as those who abandoned them. I saw the end of both types of soldiers.

But do you know, Herr Pabble, what I saw to be the most damnable outcome of the war? That men like you, the ones who survived, instead of returning to the civilian workforce like normal people are clinging to superstition and slander. Is it really possible that so many people can be so gullible for so long? Despite all of the evidence presented that demonstrates your delusions to be false, you and your men have clung to these ideas as there is even a hint of truth within them.

When will you grow and become an adult? Do you not realise how lucky you really are to have lived through eight years of war? As a child, you were given tin toys and cartoons, I was handed a rifle and a bayonet and told to kill for my country. I killed young men, I killed brave men, I killed the strong and the foolhardy. You are neither of those, Pabble."

"How Dare You!" The fascist leader growled from his seat. He stood up and slammed his fist on the table in defiance. "Argent Silver or not, I will not let my sacrifices be made a mockery. I had given my blood, sweat, and tears for the Empire!"

"Indeed you have. If only you had given the same courtesy to others," I told him. "And what a valorous soldier of the Empire you are. Being brave enough to burn down synagogues, harass innocent Judeans, and daring to declare yourself the victim - that takes true courage."

"WHY YOU -" he turned red as a tomato.

"Herr Pabble, have you ever considered the possibility you have been played for a fool by snake oil salesmen masquerading as scientists and scholars? Have you ever had thoughts about your goals and movement that put everything into question? I think not, after all…it is far easier to lie to a man than it is to convince him that he is being lied to."

That stunned him in place as he struggled to force an answer to come through.

"You wanted to protect the Fatherland, that I understand and know all too well." I continued. "But there is only one right way to do it: by protecting the Fatherland together. I am telling you this now, Herr Pabble, if you see me as a false, idiot girl who has no idea what she is talking about, then go. Go home to your fantasies and madness and never show your face near me again.

But if you seek the truth, if you truly wish to liberate your countrymen from the real enemies of the Empire, then stay with me and listen."

I looked over the audience in the beer hall once more. "That goes for all of you! Heed Heidler's words. Know what is at stake if we do not unite in the face of tyranny. At the end of it all, we are all that is left to bring true peace, and true prosperity, to Osterry. I ask you all to leave behind the worries and grievances you have against each other and work towards a common good. For everyone's sake."

Though the whole establishment erupted in applause, the conclusion did not fill me with joy. At that moment, I could only think back to what could be happening back in Germania. Was I right to trust Weiss to take charge of the Freikorps? Was he enough to reign in the excess left by Visha and control Elena? I merely stared and watched as Herr Heidler took the stage once again to begin another speech, one that I cared not to listen to for the time being as I merely returned to my seat.

Perhaps I'm being too harsh on Weiss. He is an accomplished man, my star pupil, and rarely has he disappointed me thus far. Rarely.

Days became weeks, weeks became months, and all the while, Dollfuss and his loyalists have become increasingly emboldened and erratic. To his credit, by attacking the communists and putting down their petty revolts and strikes, he hoped that he would earn enough good with the moderates and the industrialists, to garner the reputation as the lesser of two evils. Unfortunately for him, the people of Osterry already had one: Addie Heidler.

I fought to hold back the bile in my throat just by thinking that. But as reality dictates, this is an alternate world and this is an alternate man. A man who dreams of raising a daughter. The hospitality and kindness of the Heidlers were too generous to mistake their intentions and desires. Ruth doted over me as if I was six years old all over again while her husband spent an increasing amount of time being a rabble-rouser.

Whether in public squares or beer halls, Herr Heidler drew in crowds like flies to honey preaching against the illusion of choice, the people being falsely forced into deciding between the communists and the fascists, and organising protests march to build up momentum. I had to hand it to him, he learns fast. What began as crowds numbering in a few dozen ended up growing as large as a few thousand. A size that Dollfuss responded with assassination attempts and a few death squads.

Suffice it to say that the assassins nor the death squads could not prevail against an angry mob armed with broken beer bottles and loose bricks. Every attempt was a scandal that quickly shattered what little remains of an illusion that Dollfuss had tried so carefully to cultivate. To further accelerate his downfall, the country, like all the other post-Imperial states, has recently experienced a sharp economic downturn no thanks to the tariff war between America and the European nations. Public outrage can only grow from there. Even news from Germania was damning; my Freikorps had been disbanded but street violence only continued to accelerate.

Some of Heidler's allies floated the idea of allying with the Osterrian communists to form a united anti-fascist front though I quickly murdered that idea in the crib. I made it clear to Heidler and to his company of key allies that once Dollfuss has been removed, the communists are next on the executioner bloc. This coup is not meant to trade one extremist ideology for another. The Moskva puppets are just as equally dangerous and no less destructive than the fascists in Wien.

If there were to be such an alliance, the Osterrian communists must approach Heidler, not the other way around, for the relationship within this coalition to be as defined as day and night. That these Reds either moderate their platform to hold more capitalist, democratic virtues or join Dollfuss in the grave. I have no intention of letting this overthrow be corrupted from within by communist ideologues and thankfully, Heidler seemed to understand my position. And sure enough, it seemed to placate Pabble's anti-communist concerns. His fanaticism to tear down the Reds far exceeded Visha's.

The plan was simple: on May 20th, a massive public demonstration, protected by Judean militias and other like-minded Freikorps, will march onto the Parliament building as well as the Presidential Palace to demand Dollfuss' resignation. To further incentivize a speedy transfer of power, we will move to secure the police stations and foment smaller demonstrations in towns and villages to seize control of the councils there. As for the Osterrian Army, that is where my role comes into play; to either convince them to join us or stand down.

I prefer for them to stay passive; this must be a popular uprising first and foremost to keep the boundaries between civilian unrest and military politicisation well-defined - no more military coups.

I had used Alfred to send feelers on my behalf to reach out to any of the officers and generals willing to have an audience with me but there was no guarantee I would return to the Heidlers in one piece. But given my reputation, there was no shortage of Osterrian officers wanting to bask in my presence; I had the great luxury of meeting Field Marshal Lieutenant Jansa Johann von Theoneau, one of the senior commanders in the army.

But I was marching into the lion's den and I can only hope I made a good first impression on him just enough to keep the tanks and armoured cars from blocking Heidler's putsch.

As for my personal protection, Rend and Miklann offered to smuggle a computation orb for me. Alfred has suggested acquiring a civilian grade on my behalf but I had refused them all. Show too much force and the Field Marshal would immediately consider resistance to preserve himself. A conflict he would lose for sure, but keeping the damage to the minimum was my greatest priority. A civil war in Osterry, even if it lasted for a day, would do irreparable damage to my reputation as a peacemaker and war hero among the wider public.

Ruth and Heidler had a spat over my appearance; she preferred I wore a long, flowing dress to lower Theoneau's guard and make him more susceptible to my "natural" charm. She ripped out an old Imperial wartime poster that depicted my face from the closest to prove her point. I remember that photo op all too well…being dressed up like someone's doll and surrounded by roses. Heidler, meanwhile, insisted I wore a uniform of my Freikorps, preferably the new, updated version. I asked him if he was drunk because I didn't possess such a thing; as far as I knew, my uniform was the Reichsbanner Black-Red-Gold. He then showed me a package "delivered" by Hugo Boss and explained that it was "transported" by a young woman to their house. No doubt it was another of Elena's agents if not the same one I had met at the ruined cafe.

The husband and wife argued pretty fiercely last night; don't they realise I am an adult? I killed grown men with bullets and bayonets before my 10th birthday. In an effort not to be a catalyst for a divorce, I made a compromise that satisfied no one: I wore the clean white dress that Ruth wanted before wearing the black Freikorps Degurechaff coat over it. It even came with a rank I was unfamiliar with. My war medal, however, was placed on the dress instead of the jacket. Instead of normal heels, I opted to wear the jackboots that came with the Hugo Boss package. As for the yellow armband that depicted the Black Dragon of the Empire, I decided to forgo it. I don't want to give Theoneau the wrong impression.

So here I was, at the Field Marshal's estate, seemingly attending a lunch party. As far as I knew, the meeting was supposed to be confidential as promised by my co-conspirators. But I ended up being paraded around like a trophy wife by my target, being forced to smile and sign autographs to the various officers in attendance. While they spoke meaningless chatter over the economy and politics, I soon began to realise how Heidler's name was omitted from their mouths, just as the talk of the coming mass demonstration was strangely absent. Was this an elaborate trap?

No, it wouldn't be. Theoneau would have had me shot during my transit if he wanted.

"Field Marshal," I made my growing displeasure known, "Can I finally have a personal encounter alone?"

"Careful what you say, Argent Silver." He winked, "There's a scandal in your words and I'm a married man."

"This is serious." I gritted my teeth.

"Right, right…I know. But there's a reason why I had to invite everyone." He muttered as he directed me to a quieter side of his small mansion. He offered a luxurious velvet chair carved from fine oak for me to rest at.

"This is about Dollfuss." I reminded him.

"Not Herr Heidler?"

"It relates to the baker but my primary reason for meeting you is the matter of Dollfuss."

"Which you want me to assist Heidler in removing from power…"

"Exactly. On May 20th."

"Consider it done." Field Marshal Theoneau stated, already evacuating from his chair with a glass of wine in hand.

Wait. What? He already agreed?

"That's-that's it?" I sputtered.

"That's it." he nodded, "Is there anything else you need to talk about?"

"Nothing! Nothing - I mean, when the time comes, don't get the military too involved." I quickly told him. "If Dollfuss are to demand you to fire upon the protestors -"

"Is that what we are calling insurrectionists now?" He scoffed playfully. "I understand. I'll order my men not to engage in Heidler's liberal revolution. I'll personally talk to the President to stand down if need be. If you want me to."

I stared at the Field Marshal with newfound worry. Either I'm too used to dealing with opposition from stubborn militarists or Theoneau was also planning his own coup in secret. Regardless, the plan must stay intact.

"The baker must have his cake and eat it too," I replied, "If talking to Dollfuss would guarantee an end to his regime…don't make it too obvious. The civilians must think they have wrestled control back from an unpopular regime."

"As for the communists?" he inquired.

"That goes without saying." I answered, "Society will be better off without them. Just don't make it too messy."

"If those are your conditions," he began, "Then it's only fair I have mine."

Ah, there we go. Perhaps, I'm not going insane after all! Negotiations I can manoeuvre around.

"General Zettour sends his regards. This time the offer has been altered: the failures of the Great War shall not be placed upon the feet of the Imperial Military and all those who held leadership during the conflict. Support for Imperial Re-Unification is mandatory for any further cooperation between our two parties. Refusal now would mean that Frau Heidler would become a widow before the leaves turn brown."

I felt something crack within my fist and I looked down to find I had shattered a drinking glass. Cold milk dripped over my bleeding palm and onto the carpet floor.

"If those are your terms." I seethed, "Who shall bear the burdens of the Empire's defeat?"

"The usual suspects. You have already mentioned the Francois but the honor and integrity of the Imperial military must be preserved from internal slander." The Field Marshal shrugged noncommittally. "Unless you have someone else in mind that shall serve as a tribute for public interest."