"He who has annexed them [new territories], if he wishes to hold them, has only to bear in mind two considerations: the one, that the family of their former lord is extinguished; the other, that neither their laws nor their taxes are altered, so that in a very short time they will become entirely one body with the old principality. " - Machiavelli, THE PRINCE (p. 19).

The results of the surprisingly quick assessment were as expected. An above-average capacity for magic, but not enough raw talent to keep me safely sequestered in some research lab. Or, in the fashion of the Praesi, provide me with a luxurious life as a noble's paramour.

While my preferences had not changed from my first life, artificial insemination and the fact that my brown-haired blue-eyed appearance would have made openly associating with me suicidal for members of the wastelands high society, I could have expected a comfortable life receiving a regular stipend. I wouldn't even have to raise my offspring, as the political elite I "married" was expected to keep their children away from unsuitable influences.

Instead of fulling my dream of a peaceful retirement, the Soninke mage said exactly what I have been afraid of.

"So little girl, had any mage training previously?"

I was of course aware that this was a trick question, having long since researched the laws concerning magical usage in the newly annexed Callow. In a decision I could only applaud as a veteran of the Legondain pacification campaign, the Tower had outlawed private magical education in their new territory.

While the Callowan mage forces always had been the continents laughing stock and lacked the mobility of the American "volunteer" forces, fighting magic irregulars still would have been a nightmare. The ability of a single mage to unleash the equivalent of a medieval artillery shell in the form of a simple fireball, and then just fade into the civilian population was too much of a danger for a government as concerned with civilian casualties as the modern Dread Empire. I often worried how the Legions would be unable to pacify large cities, considering how Laure was gearing up for a rebellion.
After all, protocols introduced by the current Marshall, excuse me "black knight" forbade the large-scale rituals necessary to efficiently raze major population centers. The massed fireball barrages by the current Legions would have only been classified as low-grade explosives by my former Empire and were entirely unsuited for anything tougher than a field army. The newly introduced sapper core (some form of combat engineers) also only had access to primitive explosives and to a magical napalm alternative that was fairly useless against stone construction. I was honestly a bit worried that my nation's army might bleed itself dry in an urban siege.

But I digress, choosing instead to focus on the mage who would likely be my future superior until we arrived at the army's training facilities. His appearance was quiteunique and likely not according to military regulations. Dressing in soft silks and using a wooden staff instead of a practical spear as a catalyst seemed like a foolish choice.

An outside contractor then? Unlike the former territory of Callow, Praes was the predominant magical power on the continent with a healthy thaumaturgic industry. I could certainly imagine the Legions outsourcing magical detection and recruitment to mages who did not make the cut for military-grade personnel. As such I excused the sloppiness of his illusion technique and focused my gaze on his actual eye level.
"No, sir! Under the law governing the use of magic of our glorious empire, article 7 paragraph 1 receiving private magical education for Callowan born citizens is expressly forbidden!"

It had been sixteen years since I had to shout patriotic dribble with military preciseness and I was pleasantly surprised that I had not lost said skillset. Even when uttering the very law that would doom my peaceful career in the administrative sector for the next two decades. – If I even survived my full term, that is.

The contractor first stared blankly at me and then started cackling: "Hahaha, a feisty one, isn't she! Oh yes, you will go far. Well, since you are already familiar with the laws… Ah, but protocol must be followed. Tanya Foundling, under paragraph 2 of article 7 of the law governing the use of magic, I hereby induct you into the Legions of Terror as a mage cadet."

His reaction was unexpected and I found myself slightly confused. Generally speaking, when your boss started laughing at you when you had not told a joke to build camaraderie, it was considered a bad sign. I remembered a particularly loud superior in my first life who had the habit to laugh at his subordinates when he became especially angry with them. Maybe I had offended the contractor somehow? Regardless, he had praised me directly afterward and it would not do to appear stoic in face of recommendation, so I tentatively started smiling. This seemingly was the right decision as his illusionary face broke out in a wide grin.

"Well cadet go pack your things, I still have a few other orphanages to hit. You have two hours."

I immediately fell into the legionary salute I had observed in one of the bars where I worked as a tax consultant.
Then I did something I would have never dared in my second life and would have not even considered now if the unprofessional attitude and lax posture of the mage did not increasingly convince me he was a mere outside contractor.

"Sir, under Legion law for peacetime conduct section C paragraph 5 subsection 12b I wish to issue a recommendation regarding the efficient usage of the magical resource mage cadet Foundling."

The confused glance he shot towards the orphanage Head Matron greatly assuaged my fears that he was not an actually commissioned officer. After all, what kind of army would not perfectly beat military law into their soldiers?
The Matron, who until now had remained a silent picture of professionalism, just shrugged in an uncharacteristically casual gesture for her. "If Tanya says something is law you can safely assume it is in effect and written down somewhere. In fact, by lending her out as a legal consultant to the orphanage's suppliers I have been able to drive down overall operating costs."

Ah, what a wonderful thing it was, a superior who openly acknowledged the efforts of their subordinates. I had originally looked into the ever-expanding mess that was the cobbled together taxation system (which consisted of the old feudal tax-structures of Callow, the eight hundred year old taxation system of Terriblis II that held up surprisingly well, necessary additions by Malicia and whatever idiotic new policy the governor introduced) as a way to ingrain myself with the orphanage's administration.

After all, while as a state sponsored institution the shelter did not pay taxes, the increasingly gutted textile industry was subject to new regulation on an almost weekly basis. Honestly, had I not acted I believe we would all be freezing in the harsh winters of Laure. That I received better access to lawbooks and at least implicit permission to market my skills to other struggling businesses was merely a nice bonus. Permission which Catherine as my occasional co-worker probably did not possess, though then who was I to prevent others from improving their economic lot?
Regardless, after an uncomfortable amount of seemingly eye to eye (or was it eye to illusionary eye) conversations between my two managers, the mage gave me an anticlimactic nod.

"As the highest scoring student in the entire province, I believe I could serve our empire best by continuing the original plan devised by Lord Black, to assigning me in an administrative or governmental position in the Callowan territory."

Quick, decisive and hopefully not appearing overly arrogant. In reminding him that it was the overall field commander who had implemented the current orphanage policy I hoped to put my complaint beyond reproach. The man was practically worshiped by most of the empire's citizens, especially those in the Legion and their associates. He also was a surprisingly canny administrative thinker, realizing that in the grand tradition of empire it was easiest to subvert local elites, like the Duchy of Daoine, to rule new territories.
Or, in the case of the orphanage raise the local elites from the ground up, indoctrinated in the ideology of their conqueror. The orphanage gave its protégées a comprehensive education and held regular performance assessments to raise talent for the ever-expanding imperial bureaucracy. Truly, the man was a genius. Even his law codes were some of the most iron-proof legalese I had encountered.

Laws I had just interpreted very generously. After all, the original intent of section C paragraph 5 subsection 12b was merely to be used by a mage officer to inform their less magically inclined commanders about possible cost reductions, mainly concerning the ingredient costs of large-scale rituals. It was however undoubtedly true that utilizing me as glorified field artillery would be a horrendous waste of potential. That is why I stopped focusing on the mages left shoulder and turned my pleading eyes to the Head Matron. I hoped that she might mention some of my test scores.
However, before she could speak up, the contractor interrupted.
"Still no. No real way of stripping magic without permanently damaging that bright little mind you are so proud of. And we can't risk you becoming the Archmage. So off you go, pack your things, you already wasted a minute of saying your goodbyes."

I immediately fought an urge to scowl. To suggest that the sum of my career ambition was to inherit an unpaid governmental position of a defeated kingdom! It was especially egregious consider the histories pointed to the previous holders all being religious fanatics who were aligned with the "Gods Above". Similarly to that American mage, despite the undisputed inferiority to Praesi magecraft, they could still keep up thanks to their "blessings" and throw around enough power to level mountains! Well, I only assumed that the Archmages were similarly "blessed" since I could find no report of them singing religious hymns at the volume of an overpowered voice amplification spell.

Still, my orders were clear. I once again saluted as perfectly as I could and set off in a brisk walk to the privacy of my room.
The contractor called after me: "Hey, it's not all bad. Detecting my illusion takes talent kid! You might yet survive the Legions, hahaha!"
Keeping my pace, I rushed past an eavesdropping Catherine. Normally I would stop to chide her for breaking the orphanage's rules, but right now I needed to reach my room as quickly as possible. After checking I was entirely alone and the heavy oaken door pressed shut, I dropped my mask.
Damit! Damit! Damit! I was so close. Finally, I was born in an Empire busy with pacifying its territory. Finally, I was in a nurturing study environment. I did not need to wade through the trenches and never had to eat another piece of K-Brot. My superiors actually wanted me to take up a peaceful role managing human recourses and government assets!

In my new life, I had not neglected my body. After all, what good is your retirement when you are not healthy enough to enjoy it? Like in my past two lives I had trained my body to an acceptable standard.

And so, each of my frustrated punches left small indentures in the wooden door. Again and again, uncaring of the injuries, ignoring the traces my bloody knuckles left on the once pristine government property. Hot tears ran down my cheeks. Was this my fate? Was this the curse Being X put upon me? Would I, if I ever died peacefully just wake up in another orphanage? Be pressed into yet another army?

Suddenly my strength left me. I slumped down against the door, my shaking arms hugging my knees. I could indulge myself for another hour, the everchanging Rus front had taught me to be quick when packing my belongings.

POV Change – Catherine
Tanya was a mage. She would join the Legion before I ever had the chance to, all totally tuition free. I fought down the pang of jealousy. She had never wanted to join, had in fact strongly advised me against it. Not because she believed, like everyone else that I would never make it, never amount to much. No, for her the Legions simply were not a safe place for her career advancement. It was the funniest thing.
Well, it wasn't like she needed to join in order to help Callow. I could not remember a time when she had not been the Matron's pet nor could I remember a time when she did not stand the entire Tower's length above the rest of us orphans academically. Her path would have been one of academics and administration, helping our countrymen by squeezing out more taxes using 'sustainable development' instead of whatever madness the governor dreamt up this week.

Truly, despite her insistence that she was a proud Praesi, the tax proposals she wrote told a different story. She might, not even in private, ever admit to being Callowan, but I had seen her fury whenever governor Maez passed a new decree. She might not want to join the Legions, but she cared for her country all the same. By the Above, it wasn't like she was unsuited for the army.

Regardless, my duty was to uhm, assist my fellow Callowan, even one in denial. And while teasing her about getting into the Legions before me would undoubtably be fun, listening in on whatever the mage planned was undoubtedly more useful. Creeping slowly across the floorboards in a way that years of practice had thought me would leave no noise, I finally managed to press my ear to the door and listen in.

"-ait, the girly was telling the truth?"

"Honestly she was selling herself a bit short." Came the scratchy voice that I would recognize everywhere. I received enough complaints from that voice that printed out that the resulting book would be thicker than one of the law tomes Tanya enjoyed.

"Ohhh? Care to elaborate Nissy?"

"Stop calling me that. We aren't cadets anymore. And what I mean by that is when I gave the little twerps a homework assignment about imaging better ways to bring Callow and Praes together five-year old Tanya handed me a thirty page report on, and I quote: "How to better integrate the human recourses of newly acquired territories by expanding the propaganda efforts of the imperial orphanages on a national scale in form of public schooling". After I sent that thing to headquarters I got myself a nice big fat bonus and found myself implementing some of the suggestions in the report not a year later."

"That's. Uhm, well unexpected. I thought she was giving me lip early, heroic qualities and all that shit."

"If only. Then maybe one of the three termination requests I sent might have gone through. Nah, as far as I can tell Traz, she is a true believer. More true than most noble brats."

"Why did you put in the wetwork requests in then? From what you describe she just sounds like a somewhat insane knockoff version of Scribe."

"Girl has ambition. And comparing her to those brats might have been a bit misleading. I have never seen her pray to any gods, but "The Death of the Age of Wonders" might as well be her holy text considering how often she quotes the damn thing. I worry that I am witnessing the birth of a fucking Chancellor, but none of the higher ups would believe me that a Callowan of all people is a claimant!"

"You have to admit that it seems a bit farfetched that a Praesi name would be taken by-"

"Dammit Traz I know what I am seeing! Can't you have her have an incident with an invisible tiger on the way to the academy?"

"You know I am not allowed to take independent action, and we both know that if a hit isn't sanctioned by the higher ups the next one would go out on me."

The matron sighed deeply, the conversation seemingly finished. Waiting a few more seconds for any further titbits, or more likely out of shock, I remained rooted. Then I realised that neither my surprise at the Head Matrons lack of "decorum", something she literally had beaten into the orphans, nor the horror at the revelation that Tanya almost had been murdered thrice over, would save me when either one of the fucking undercover eyes discovered me eavesdropping. As silently as I could I sneaked down the hallway, willing my limbs to stop shaking. Tanya had to be told.

POV – Tanya
I was startled somewhat when I heard a frantic knock at the door.

"Tanya are you there? Open the damn door!"
Ah, I see I had wondered who would interrupt me in my wallowing. I had expected Catherine to keep busy with eavesdropping for a while and was somehow surprised she knocked at the door instead of rushing in. Upon further ruminations, it probably had something to do with the fact that I was stumped against said door.

"Catherine, I would like to be alone for now, please come back later." It was somehow painful to speak with my scratchy voice.
Unlike my faithful adjutant after the called-off attack on Brest, Catherine was not bound by the military hierarchy. Instead of listening to my request she simply forced the door open, hurling me to the floor.

"Tanya we need to talk I have- Wait what are doing on the floor, wait is that blood? What the fuck happened!?"

Catherine voiced her concerns with an increasingly higher pitch voice. I could of course understand. I too would have been shocked if my co-worker displayed such an unprofessional appearance. Quickly brushing away the tears with my sleeve I started justifying myself.
"I apologize for the unsightly display. The transfer to the military came as a bit of an unpleasant shock to me. I assure you I will clean up the mess I have made before my departure."

"I don't give a shit about having to wipe the floor!" Noticing the open door and the fact that she could likely be heard through the entire orphanage, she carefully closed the door. This of course brought my act of vandalism to her attention.
"Are those fist shaped dentures?"

"I apologize for damaging our, I mean your, door. I will be certain to compensate you appropriately for the damages before I leave."

This seemingly was the wrong thing to say as Catherine's expression changed from confused and somewhat forlorn to a furious red.
"I don't give a goblin's ass about the fucking wall either! Now tell me what is wrong with you or I swear I will, will…"

She trailed off at the end probably unsure what threat she could use to justify her invasion of my privacy. Catharine was a co-worker and my roommate. Not my superior. There was no need to give her a suitable patriotic justification or obfuscation. And so I let my anger get the better of me.

"What is wrong with me? Nothing is wrong with me! It is this idiotic irrational medieval hellhole that is wrong!
I just want to live a peaceful life advancing my socioeconomic position in a meritocratic system, but am always prevented so by circumstance I can't change! Whatever personal agency I possess is ripped away by self-titled deities and the foolish notion of patriotism! It does not matter that valuable talent is wasted for sake of something as useless as national pride. I am forced to join the military, against my will, all so I can be an economic deadweight on society! I will produce nothing of value as a glorified field artillery. Spending each day dreaming about my retirement, only to be gutted in the night by some peasant, rebelling in a vain attempt to re-establish the feudal waste that is Callow!"

After finishing my rant, my anger left me and only a feeling of deep exhaustion remained. Catherine had seemingly used the time I wasted complaining to calm herself down.

"Why do you think you will die?"

At least she was smart enough not to doubt the fact that grudge baring nature of the Callowans would lead to an uprising. An uprising that would happen soon, before those that still remembered the Kingdom grew too senile. Still, I was disappointed.

"I had hoped I had thought you better. Tell me Catherine, what are high priority targets in any engagements?"

"Officers and artillery." Came her conditioned response. Still, she seemed not to realize the actual direness of the situation and started arguing. "You also told me to aim to become an officer or join the siege artillery core because both can safely hide behind meat shields!"

"I was talking about a pitched battle, in an actual war. This won't be that. I will spend the next years of my service putting out the fires of a hundred different small scale rebellions, because the Callowans just can't face reality! The Empire will send in Callowan Legionnaires in order to avoid sending Praesi urns to their actual powerbase. And these rebellions will happen now, because whatever old soldiers remain realize that this is their last chance. Procer will funnel all that military surplus from their civil war to Callow and by the time I will see combat I will at best be a sergeant! There is not enough time for me to advance the ranks as a draftee. When the pacification happens mages will be the best possible targets. Softer than any heavily guarded officer or sapper munitions depo and simultaneously disproportional damaging to the long term combat viability of the legions. And no target more hated for literarily burning their oh so glorious fatherland!"

My rant was met with laughter. Noticing my glare, she started explaining.

"You. A sergeant.
Considering our wargame score, once you are a sergeant I should have made legate. Don't worry I will protect you from a few disgruntled peasants. Especially since you are my fellow countrymen, something which you admitted just now."

"Last I remember our score was 216 to 0 in my favor so don't be re-"

"Exactly by the time I join the legions you will be a marshal already," she said, smiling in that infuriating way of hers.
"But a girl's gotta have ambition and I am sure Legate would serve as 'a stable socioeconomic position where time can be spent on courtship'." Then she fluttered her eyes at me in a way that reminded me of soldiers coming into contact with teargas.

Ignoring her unexplainable infatuation, as I had done so for years, I instead choose to focus on the other inaccuracy of her prior statement.
"When have I admitted anything about being Callowan. I was merely talking about how the how Callowan born legionnaires would make useful foot soldiers without depleting…" Seeing Catherine's smirk only widen I started to tail off. By now, I was familiar with these senseless arguments that she somehow found entertaining.

Still, my fellow orphan had brought up an interesting point. I would be fighting peasants. Medieval peasants. In other words, guerrilla fighters without gunpowder. Irregular forces who would not be able to plant landmines or pipe bombs, who would have no snipers that could fade into the snow. Considering the fortified legion camps, the worst I would face were supply disruptions and roadside ambushes, with literal bows and arrows.
The former was nothing I hadn't already experienced at the Rus front, and I was assured that Ork tasted like wild boar. The latter was dangerous no doubt, but the histories indicated that capable mages had shielding spells against ordinary projectiles. While I doubted such defenses would hold up against small caliber fire or ballista bolts, it shouldn't be impossible for a former ace to learn these tricks, and they should suffice against whatever weaponry Procer managed to smuggle over the biggest mountain rage of the continent.

"Yes Catharine you are right. I will be going up against peasants armed with military surplus, while I have magical fire at my hands. And without a Fairfax as a uniting figure at their head, the dozen or so different rebellions should fizzle out once the Legions burn a few dozen villages."
I started smiling now, imagining the speed of the campaign. While in general, terror tactics alone did not work, Praes had already offered compliance as a viable alternative in cities like Summerholm. Thinking back, after Arnae, other captured Francois cities had been quite compliant. Imperial rule wasn't that harsh after all.

Surprisingly enough Catherine did not seem to share my joy.

AN: Why Catherine did not mention the Eyes

So most readers will have noticed that Catherine did not tell Tanya about the undercover Eyes. This very much is an intended decision. As you might have noticed Catherine was pretty shocked when she saw Tanya break down, which never happened before. In "A Practical Guide to Evil" one of Cath's major character traits/flaws is that she tends to make decisions for others.

Don't read the numbered list if you are entirely unfamiliar with APGtE and want to avoid spoilers, because those are a few examples of Patronising Catherine in action:

1. Cath unilaterally decides to kickstart a rebellion by releasing the Lone Swordsman
2. Her relationship with Kilian broke down in part because Catherine made preparations/decisions for Kilians regarding her magical halfblood nature without really informing her
3. And quite a lot of other decisions both on the geopolitical stage and in her friend circle (Maego x Archer, Creating a military alliance with You Know Who)

So why did she not tell Tanya? Well, she knows a few things for sure: Her friend is emotionally vulnerable and the Eyes are not allowed to take a hit on Tanya. So she decides that that knowledge better be kept secret, something I personally find quite dickish but which fits well with her character. She doesn't want Tanya to worry like she does, or act off when traveling with an Eye. Goes to show that Catherine really doesn't perfectly understand her friend. Imagine Tanya's disappointment when she finds out she passed up her chance to network with military intelligence!