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The following is a fan-based
FICTION
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"Liars' Peace"
September 12 1935 EC
Diplomat Albert Bloch
Federative Parliament, Deventer , Aurora (Atlantic Federation)
Diplomacy can be rough, it was no secret that a masterful politicians such as Bloch.
When the War started, he had been part of the Pacifistes, which led to his 'promotion' to assist as a liason with the United States of Vinland to 'promote exchanges for consumers good'. War had led to rations to supply the army, rations that still struggled to keep up with the planned quota. The pure trickery employed by Bloch made him a savvy expert on US politics, and one that was aware of how bad of a situation this was all.
The US had been presided by a pleasant government back during the first war in the continent, but the few years spent passing reforms had led for a Warhawkish Cabinet to be elected. The war was seen as a way to stabilize their silly majority over the congress, with the idea of 'helping freedom' reaching many voters. That was before the meat-grind started.
Albert could still remember the very things his long-gone father had taught him in regard to trading and politicking: a war can be good for a nation's economy if you know when it starts and when it ends. When the war turns into a bleak investment opportunity, then it is no better than a sinkhole for the money.
And Albert had voiced that back during his tenure as a Parliament Member. But the Federation's leadership outright rejected the notion of pragmatic peace. He had known the Empire was a mess in an administrative sense, and a well-planned war would have yielded the results of a grand victory. Yet, that didn't happen. The Empire attacked after the effects of a hideous cut to the military budget had left them to rely on conscription.
If he hadn't been removed from the capital, he would have laughed at the faces of the morons that had so rubbed their egos together before the 'modernity of the army'. Bloch had contacts with the military even now- they weren't ready at all with the kind of wastes made in much-needed reform.
The Imperial Army, nonetheless, struggled. They hadn't been prepared for the desperate push of the Northern Cross but... easily turned it back on them. The millions of young lives lost in that encirclement will always stain the soul of the Federation.
If the Federation survived the peace.
Albert had been approached- no, he had been begged to give his 'good people' a worthy peace. Considering the capital was captured with the entirety of the parliament, the army was in disarray, the Empire was advancing and there was no safety net provided by Vinland after that Snowcruisers Fiasco... Albert was willing to say any peace would be kindness at this point.
An Armistice was signed on September 2nd, with a truce followed within the temporary occupation of the Federation's Capital, but the true deal was happening at Deventer. The winter was knocking, the chilling jolts going through his old and weary bones reminding him that he was going to retire into obscurity after this horrendous ordeal.
Still, he showed himself regal. The nobles that had been assigned by the Empire looked hungry, and Albert didn't show any sign of positiveness in a time where his staff of weak-minded bureaucrats expected him to do God's miracles in that negotiating table.
The map was outrageous, but it could have gotten worse- that much he could say without feeling utterly disgusted about.
TREATY OF DEVENTER
(MAP: i DOT postimg DOT cc / FsxFYzgP / Treaty-Of-Deventer DOT png)
The Empire:
+Acquires the Light Red Territories and integrates them in their domain;
+Guarantees the Independence of the Iberican State (Yellow), the Beneluxian Alliance (Light Blue), and the Bretagnan State (Light Gray);
+Receives War Reparations in the form of 12.5M;
+Confirms the Vassalization of the Principality of Gallia (Purple) as an Autonomous State, recognizing its new islands (Light Purple);
The Atlantic Federation:
+Reneges the claims over the forfeited land;
+Recognizes the Self-Determination of Iberica, Beneluxe and Bretagne;
+Nullifies the alliance with the: United Kingdom of Edinburgh and United States of Vinland (Brown);
+Confirms the War Reparations;
+Limits the Production of Tanks and Aircraft;
+Limits the Federation Army to 20.000 soldiers;
+Limits the Creation of Fortifications along the Imperial Border;
+Limits the Production of Ships to solely Destroyers for Coastal Guard Purpose;
+Concedes defeat to the Empire;
Albert felt a strange emotion as he was done reading the general points of the documents. There were pages with specifications to the limitations and... He was quite sure that was the same when that little shit Marcel, the dumb bully from his time as a young child, had given him his first and only punch to the guts.
Right now, Albert felt whatever of his old hopeful self that had tried to grip into foolish dreams had died as he knew the Federation would not survive. Regardless of what he did or said to delay or snatch a better deal... he knew this was a rigged game.
And one that the Empire had not won either.
So, much to the shock and mounting upset of his own 'clerks', Albert retrieved his pen, dark ink staining the pristine white paper as he personally signed it on behalf of the Federation. There was a strange relief in doing so, for he was aware that this was not going to be a peace that was meant to last long.
Sure, there was enough leverage to keep it going, but with revolts happening everywhere in this cursed continent, it would be surprising for him that anyone would see to enforce it for the ensuing years.
He doubted the Federation would see it favor them in the long-run. In fact, the Federation was bound to die in the span of the next few months. He knew that the growling miscreants beside him were waiting for a chance to speak with him, to scream at him and call him a traitor but... they couldn't find him after he left the doors of the room.
Albert was not in his room. In fact, he hadn't planned to return to his manor. He had emptied his bank account hours earlier before disappearing, and had gone missing on purpose to avoid the very thing he didn't deserve- shame for a peace he had to sign for a war he opposed.
A War that wasn't his to claim, thus a Peace that wasn't his to care for. Gallia? That was going to do as a hiding spot.
AN
Après moi, le déluge.
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