The Purpose of Conflict: Chapter Twenty- Another Approach II
24/11/1924 / Norden Territory, Germanic Empire / Imperial Airfield, Private Bedroom / 07:02
Lieutenant Gabriel Stuart resented when others did activities for him. It was unavoidable by the nature of the military or his overlapping neutered responsibilities as a prince. The result was the unfortunate necessity of being forced to utilize the servants of the crown. Guards, private chefs, and maids were tolerable circumstance that was out of his hands. However, to be groomed by another felt awkward. Even when it was Peggie who appeared unannounced in his private accommodations, drew the curtains for privacy and sat across from him.
With one arm in the process of healing, Gabriel had forgone the routine of shaving. Peggie only waited a day after her return to take it upon herself to remove the modest stubble he had accumulated since their journey to the Rhine. The makeup of the 27th omitted support companies and groundcrews for ease of deployment thankfully deprived him of a batman. Hence his friend volunteered for the role while scorning acknowledgement of servitude.
It would be the first time they had a proper conversation since he had been shot and she nearly lost her head.
"Are you going to keep fighting me, Gabriel?" Peggie shuffled closer, the straight razor as an unincorporated threat. Dressed in loose clothing and wet hair from her morning bath. It offered a final foil to prevent the charity of his closest friend.
"I can tell you're not wearing a corset."
"I'll put it on when I need to get dressed for the day. I trust you not to look."
"Is there anything to see down there?" Gabriel maintained a smirk in Peggie raised the blade and lathered his face in shaving cream.
"You have a weird sense of humour for someone who's unarmed." Peggie slowly took off the first stretch of facial hair. While tolerable, the prickle incited mild pain along Gabriel's cheek. Miss Canvel would undoubtedly be the better option if she was less predatory in the act.
"So, are you ready to get out of the cast?" Peggie filled the awkward silence with a neutral topic." It would at least be another minute until the inevitable topic would appear. They had enough from the last month that needed to dissect.
"The doctor's assistant says I can participate in the assault. I am certainly pleased I can soon button up my shirts again."
"Are you that eager to get shot again?" Peggie took another stretch of hair. Resolved to settle the matter Gabriel was reluctant to discuss. Her stare had more intimidation in it than the blade on his cheek.
"Are you?" Gabriel matched her iron-clad gaze. Here it was, one of the topics they were reluctant to engage in. They stared in silence until Peggie cowed her eyes by to wipe down the already clean razor. The uncomfortable silence quickly resettled.
Gabriel counted snowflakes through the slit in the curtains until the correct words presented themselves. He expected and silently desired that the shave would be completed first.
"You should have stayed where we landed in the trench."
"Would you have done it if it was me?"
"That is irrelevant." Honesty would not serve him at the moment. He had to redirect the point to save face. "I outrank you. An order is a law, and you have no leeway to flagrantly disregard it." It was a simplification of the system. The rule of law was not to be disregarded; it could be twisted into unintended meanings when absolutely necessary, but it was not a standard.
"You and I both know that's just an excuse." Peggie's glare forced the begrudging unveiled truth out of Gabriel.
"No. I would not have listened to you. Neither would I permit you to risk your life and stick your head above the trench line." Gabriel somehow managed to look her in the eyes as he acknowledged his hypocrisy.
"But it's peachy when you want to run around during a bombardment and charge into no man's land?"
"If it is permissible in the situation, as it was, I would."
The room remained quiet apart from the procedure of shaving. Peggie's stance mirrored his. Therefore, there was no need to waste breath on the matter.
What frustration accumulated would do nothing to resolve the matter. The benefit to the stalemate was tempers cooled and what amounted to levelled heads could prevail. Peggie was halfway through her task and only drew blood around Gabriel's ear when she decided to squander the silence again.
"Would you have gone over the top if I didn't get…well, knocked out?" That was a polite way of describing her head nearly being split open by shrapnel.
"I do not have an honest answer to that. There was no plan." There was an unintended implication in the question that he wanted to confirm. "Would you have let me go?"
"Of course not!" She pitched, accidentally cutting another line into Gabriel's skin. It made him wince while it otherwise failed to derail the conversation.
"I am certain someone would have acted if neither of us did."
"Doubtful. Not everyone is as stupid as you Gabriel."
"Said by the woman that looked over the parapets of a trench during a mortar bombardment." An involuntary smile emerged for a moment. Gabriel knew to dispose of it while the older woman was armed with a sharp instrument.
"I might be reckless, but I have two working arms." Peggie snagged his cheek again; blood came out and mixed with the white coat of cream. An oddly pleasant pink was created when an involuntary reaction forced Gabriel to touch the small injury. The self-aggrandised able two-armed woman frantically apologised while she cleaned the mess.
"I wonder how much good that able-body has done for you."
With permission and reassurances from her victim, Peggie moved on to the neck. Each was aware of the precarious position of the razor.
"I am sorry I made you worry about me, Peggie." The Commonwealth needed his services, which did not lessen the burden he had to endow on his oldest friend. "We both knew the risks when they signed up. I could never convince you to take the training position back home."
"I'm here for the same reason you're out here. Deus vult." She halfheartedly whispered the Latin to a barely audible utterance.
"Deus vult." Gabriel softly replied. The silence was about to resume if only Peggie had not pushed to the other topic, he loathed to devote time to.
"Do you have anything to say about Tóth?" The question came quicker than a physical punch and hit with the same force. The air in his lungs abruptly turned to concentrate in density and weight. In spite of the restriction, he was able to shrug as an answer before suffocation set in.
"I turned a dead body to ash for you Gabriel. I have no idea how we got away with it, or if we in fact did." Peggie imitated Gabriel's shrug with unnecessary exaggeration. "Maybe the military police will come and cart us away. You, me, the Muscovite, Vooren. Or not, they aren't the lawmakers you listen to, are they?"
What was usually a sly smug grin was now antagonistic. Gabriel pushed Peggie's arm away. The intent of manoeuvring the razor instead sent it to the floor with a metal clang.
The memory of Tóth on the ground made him shiver. A limb slab of meat with a bloodied bag over its head, the damning evidence on lathered his boots. He took a moment to calm his stressed breathing. It was easier to ignore the dreadful memory altogether. He was in the right – the matter was resolved. Why did Peggie insist on resurrecting the memory? A reminder of the events to haunt his day was not what he wanted. He would regrettably have to wait until tonight to get a drink to cleanse his mind.
"The world and heavens are better off without one unrepentant sinner." He was louder and harsher than his sarcastic conversation partner. Unlike him, Peggie kept her composure along with her theoretical wit.
"Can't the same be said for you?"
Gabriel leered at her, the look matched without hesitation or folly. Peggie always provided input regardless of her involvement. Miss Serebryakov's attempts to the insight into the discussion could be, and frequently were, ignored. Meanwhile, Peggie had no such respect for his position. The first time he declined to talk about it she stormed off in a fit. Why could she not shut up for once?
"That family will be better off without a monster amongst them."
"Maybe." Peggie pretended to agree with him. She cleaned the razor with distractions "What is another child to grow up without a father, right? Do you think Mrs Tóth can afford a governess like your mother could?"
"Shut up!" Gabriel nearly sprung from her chair. She had crossed a line and appeared to realise that error. The abrupt spurt of anger had quickly dissipated, like a flame that burned through its fuel instantaneously. "Just…shut up. Please."
"Fine." Peggie conceded, not elaborating beyond her soft declaration of frustration. The shave resumed shortly after in uncomfortable silence.
There was no need to discuss the topic. He did nothing wrong. He could not have, never. While no man was without sin Gabriel would not allow the devotion he cultivated to be wasted. Through God the Commonwealth would be revived, their realm reborn, the sinners saved, and the world brought closer to Christ. The thought that he could jeopardise the world by one accident was unfathomable, it was unrealistic. It was best to ignore the subject or drown it with alcohol until his mind moved on.
The Lord wanted him here on the battlefield, that was why he had the magical aptitude appropriate for a mage. Therefore, it was God's will for Tóth to die. It was the same will that permitted Jerusalem to be cleansed through its destruction. Therefore, no sin was committed, and Gabriel's conscience was clean.
Gabriel hoped they had more than wine for that night. The Imperials would undoubtedly have beer, seemingly allergic to stronger alcohol that surpassed their flavoured tap water.
Peggie tried to calm the tension in the room with a mutual topic. "Miss Ketchener asked about you in her last letter. I think she wants you to write for her."
Gabriel had no stomach for thinking of the governess when his mind was polluted with alleged crimes.
"I will contact her when we have completed the next mission. I do not wish to devote half effort to her, I know she would never do the same for us." Gabriel wanted to leave it there, just after a final word on the subject. "If you write to her again in the near future, please send her my regards."
Peggie decided against pursuing the subject and let silence befit the pair. Next, it was Gabriel's turn to try and salvage what time they had left before they had to start the day.
"I noticed you are still using Mr. Grantz's first name." Gabriel wiped away the residue of cream and blood with a cloth. Peggie shrank in size; her meek stature answered the question not yet asked. "So, you and him?"
"Yes, me and him. I'm going to take it slower this time. I think we're going to be together tonight, but it's not a real date. Not yet." There was an unspoken implication in Peggie's language. No premarital relations this time. It was a welcome opportunity for long-term happiness she never found in sexual gratification. If only he could provide his support without vailed terminology that would otherwise back Peggie into an imaginary corner.
"I am happy for you Peggie. What has changed your strategy?"
"Mr. Hanover told me to go slow. The stuff you would expect from a married man with experience. What you always say without all the biblical citations. I think he wants me to be slow since Vooren is still a bit younger than me."
"If he treats you right and brings you closer to God, then that is enough. I do not have hesitations you will do the same for the right man when the time comes."
Gabriel had to smile; the arguments endured so far were swept aside. Normality could resume and life could try to move past the mistake he made. That allowed the much beloved unprofessional teasing to co-exist with the relationship.
"I should have known you always liked younger men. After all, when we first met, you took an unattended six-year-old into your company."
"Is that how you remember it, Gabriel? I bet my salary you would have died if I didn't rescue you." Peggie grinned throughout the mockery levelled against her.
"No. It is simply more amusing to recount the event that way."
"Tease me all you want Gabriel. It just means you blew your chances with me."
"How lucky. Your lack of a corset reveals that I am not missing much." His shin was assaulted, the laughter consequentially transmitted to the attacker. For what was a rather tense exchange, there was a relief he found a friend that would stand beside him. Their differing stances on matters are second to being beside the other.
"However, I could not ask for a better friend. Thank you, Peggie."
24/11/1924/ Berun, Germanic Empire / Vice-Admiral Fredrich Canaris Residence / 18:58
Princess Rachel Stuart crouched when she noticed she was being watched. It was a sneaking feeling that emerged once she stepped out of the car and persisted until she found the spy.
A red fox was sat in the garden of Vice Admiral Canaris' estate. Sat among a snow-covered flower bed with a bushy tail that wagged while it watched her.
It was cute. Every small fluffy animal was cute but this one was notably adorable. There was no chance she could pet or rub its snout, but it would be a privilege to do such. The fox held itself majestically. Unaffected by the urban world around it and content to silently watch with a smile. It stumped Rachel if the animal had mimicked human emotion or if its jaw was fixed in that position. Either way, it was cute to see a fox smile at her.
"Captain Stuart." Rachel shot back up instantly. The Germanic call returned her to the present situation. She was here to discuss the Imperial Navy, not ponder the wildlife.
The Vice Admiral stood in the doorway, which meant he must have seen her display of immaturity in his front yard. Rachel looked over the logical assumption that Canaris would have been watching her - an odd practice that made her uncomfortable to envision.
Rachel moved her hair out of her right eye. Caught between her embarrassment and discomfort from being in the man's proximity. His stare was much colder than that of a regular grey-haired senior official. One could be forgiven for presuming the Imperial was the wild carnivore in place of the fox.
"Vice Admiral Canaris." Rachel cursed herself for sounding put off, she had been raised better than to show it openly. The feeling that she was prey in his gaze Maybe if she tried to be funny, she could start their meeting on the right foot. "My apologies. I was held up by your security detail."
She did use the word "try" after all.
A glance showed the fox had transformed in its posture. It now leered at Canaris, the ears perked outward at what was perceived to be a threat. Rachel thought she might hear a growl of some kind, admittedly not versed enough to know what it would sound like or why it had disposed of an old man.
The mammal abruptly sprinted away before either human could gawk or antagonize it further. Rachel tried her best to return to the role of a proper woman princess. Offered a formal greeting and handshake at the door
"Shall we get started?" The Imperial's hand was as cold as his expression and equally as welcoming. Rachel tried to ignore the sinking feeling that grew within her stomach.
"I believe we should. My wife is absent and I have sent my staff home for the day, so we will be without distraction."
A brief panic flared inside Rachel; old fears resurfaced at the most inappropriate of times. She told herself it would be fine, this was a business meeting, not an arranged date. Those days were behind her.
"That is permissible, we have a lot to talk about Vice Admiral."
Rachel saw some flash of perceived malice in a grin that curled along Canaris' face.
"That we do Your Highness."
24/11/1924 / Norden Territory, Germanic Empire / Imperial Airfield, Mess Hall / 19:34
Major Tanya Degurechaff never liked the workplace party as much as her peers. The Salaryman knew they were a regrettable, but necessary, expenditure of time that allowed the workforce to safely decompress and interact in absence of ridged formalities. In the office setting: it would be a commercial building stocked with alcohol and electronic entertainment. In the military: the food and drink remained while the event was relegated to a decorated mess hall. As a child: alcohol was prohibited to her so the evening had to be spent unable to efficiently connect with her underlings.
The Salaryman had to be a part of "the team" while networking with those of tangible value. In the Empire, she had less to do when those present were the battalion she stood atop and a motley Commonwealth unit of mages and pilots she exercised no control over. At least the officers had a reserved table at the head of the room. She would be bored rather than annoyed.
When she returned from her visit with the Northern Command, she directed Weiss and Serebryakov to organise a party for the combined arms unit. It would allow them to unwind as best as possible while in the presence of their commanding officers. A final reward of calm before she had to send her human resources into battle.
That reward would have been sweeter if her mind was clear of concern for Being X's latest scheme. A serving of chicken in her belly proved to not be enough of a distraction.
Lieutenant Stuart and Visha sat with her. The Muscovite had rambled on about a story she had only half listened to since the conclusion of the meal. The rest of the officers were spread out across the room interacting with men or in the corner contributing to the makeshift musical performance led by the Bohemian Sergeant Rinehart. On the far end of the table, Lieutenant Grantz talked with the prince's annoying friend – now spiced with the same perfume Serebryakov doused herself in. The two in apparent enjoyment of each other's company. At least a potential distraction had been eliminated without her intervention. She could be reassured by the story of Visha's congregation beer garden parties.
The dull environment allowed her to focus on the plague of Being X and His music. Their last exchange was several weeks ago. The most memorable outcome besides the puppeteering of a corpse was a line regarding "another approach" to her worldview. Whatever He said would be wrong by virtue of the source – non-existent gods were foremost lying pests to be surgically removed from one's life. The prejudice saved her from needing to find citations or check His references. Treating the subject of faith as black and white saved her energy.
It would not be amiss if she could have a spot of wine to soothe the issue – if only His one-armed Highness took on a protectorate role and forbid the child's body to consume any. The Lieutenant had been teetering on formal intoxication all evening. He had indulged the moment alcohol was present and was already tinted red when he led the room in mealtime prayer. She did not think him to be a drunk, however, what motivated him to drink was not of her concern. It only became a problem if he skipped overseeing the next day's drills due to a hangover.
At the moment that seemed unlikely – if not impossible. Gabriel managed to murmur coherent sentences to comment on the end of Visha's beer garden story upon its conclusion.
"I find the differences in Albion and Germanic culture interesting." Gabriel straightened his bent posture. "Family social public drinking would be frowned upon in Albion, yet here women can drink among men without judgment."
"I never got used to the taste of beer." The Lieutenant made a small laugh and incomprehensible comment about "tap water," both of which were awkwardly ignored by the Imperial speaker. "It was more fun to play the piano for everyone anyway. My mother says it's because we're both Muscovites."
"Yes, fascinating. I am thankful you are due to play for us once Neumann and Rinehart are done making that racket." Tanya wanted to move away from the story in case they picked up how she had not listened. "Does it feel peculiar to be this close to your home?"
Visha shuffled in her seat at her question. Tanya took the opportunity to grab the nearest bottle of red wine to read the label. Her scheme failed immediately with Gabriel confiscating her prize. The darn brat wanted to keep it all for himself.
"I miss them. It feels good knowing they are all nearby. I try to remember we're here so we can go back safe and sound. To be honest I'm anxious to leave so I can take the train down to see them."
"I hope you're not trying to weasel out of the next mission."
"I would never even consider it, ma'am."
"Good, I heard rumours on the Rhine about your skill on the Piano, Perhaps someone could convince her to play?" Tanya smirked at Gabriel, the drunk able to decipher the message.
"Miss Serebryakov, I am thankful you have agreed to demonstrate your talents for us. I do not doubt you will satisfy everyone with your talents."
Visha immediately became flushed with a bright blush. It was not what Tanya anticipated but she would not deny it served her interests. It was a relief she could bask in this moment of mundanity away from the war or Being X. Her adjutant assisted with a rapid shift in the topic.
"So anyways…what…what do you think you will do after the war?" The blushing Muscovite provided her answer without hesitation. Beaming with excitement for her hypothesised future.
"I always wanted to buy farmland outside of Kiel. Then I would use the carpentry my father taught me and keep the homestead in order. I'll have my own house for me and my family."
"It's a stable profession. There'll always be a need for grain and the Empire has respected private enterprise outside of wartime. You will find yourself as a rich woman in the future." Tanya readjusted herself, outwardly pleased with the revelation. The Empire was a large-scale production-based economy. Her adjutant clearly had the foresight to predict the needs of a free market in a post-war economy. It never hurt to have well-learned subordinates, they could be trusted with complicated tasks and used as a tool to push her career. "I suppose you will need to marry and have children if you want to avoid hired labourers from digging into the profit margin. The labour requirements have encouraged high birth rates in the past. For better or worse, humanity hasn't completely automated the process."
Visha's face became more red than the Lieutenant's. Her hands were quick to pat down the blushing skin while she recoiled into her sitting position. Utterances of reassurance that Tanya was correct in her assessment muddled between her hands. Perhaps there was an underestimated factor that had been realised to cause the embarrassment. The lieutenant watched in silence for a moment, ready to provide his own take on the profession.
"Retreating to a humble life is commendable. Cincinnatus would be pleased Miss Serebryakov."
"Thank you, Mr. Stuart." Eager to move on, Visha quickly claimed another victim of inconsequential corporate small talk. "And for you Major?"
"A vacation and nice apartment in Berun." That was the condensed version of her plan. A ladder of promotion to safety was easier to visualise in luxury items. Tanya did not consider herself a materialist but did emphasise access to conveniences. When the world she forcibly lived in had little of either, a nice place to stay with a housekeeper to cook her meals was enough.
To avoid drowning in more mundane conversation about her plans, Tanya passed along the question to the Albion.
"What about you Lieutenant? What will the House of Stuart do after our victory?"
Gabriel was silent for a bit. His hand was rubbed over his face to create words through the haze of alcohol. Occasionally pausing to remember how to pronounce words.
"If we can assume a settlement for allied states to re-establish themselves in Europa, Bharat is likely. The subcontinent has been in a state of anarchy since the Commonwealth collapsed. I am of the opinion we are in a position to challenge the Akitsushima Dominion's supremacy in the far east. However, I would not be opposed to intervention against the Unitary before – so long as the cost of lives is minimal. I wanted to go east before intervention in Europa. Such is war and strategy and all that is said by Her…Her Majesty."
That was technically an answer.
Tanya was mildly befuddled, Visha seemed to be chewing on the inside of her cheek and simultaneously pouting. The lack of clarity was more frustrating than the apparent dodging of the question. She was far too intelligent to be tricked – by princes or omnipotent monsters.
"What about after the war? What do you want to do then?" Tanya tried to simplify the concept further. Gabriel temporarily struggled to provide an answer
"The Federation I suppose. Communism is an evolution of the warlord state and those never last. If I am not a soldier…Her Majesty will presumably have a position intended for me to fulfil. I am not sure what that might be."
Tanya decided to cite the alcohol as the one at fault. She remembered the Salaryman at Gabriel's age and the peers that had similarly vague plans for their lives. Although she still failed to comprehend such laziness in preparing for one's future. Those that could fall back onto nepotism usually had the same plan in varying levels of detail. The Commonwealth's presumed victory would likely need many civil servants and military personnel. So, there would be enough jobs for him, herself and even Visha if she got tired of farming.
"What about when you were a kid? I mean little! Did you have any plans for the future when you were little?" Visha shrieked to correct herself. Another blush tinted her face red the cause known to Tanya this time. She might have had the body of a child, but that did not mean she had to behave or believe she was one. The minor detail had no effect on the answer to the Lieutenant's drawn-out and alcohol-induced answer.
"Not with gold, but with iron, will the fatherland be regained Camillus said. What point is there to preparing for peace when you need to conduct war? The revolution happened when I was little. Peggie and I knew what we would need to do when we grew up and it came true. War was never a doubt in our minds."
It was short-sighted, if not mildly depressive. Serebryakov had the same mournful outlook on the Lieutenant's situation. This was no doubt some side effect of being raised in a warmongering environment. However, an inconsistency stuck out in Tanya's mind. The detail could be due to the word format, but it bothered the Salaryman to not have all aspects clearly understood. "I was under the impression you and Second Lieutenant Pierre met in training."
The Lieutenant constrained his face into a panicked expression, each hand uncharacteristically fidgeted as the clarification was provided.
"Yes. Yes. That is true." Gabriel cleared his throat and drowned himself in another glass of wine. "Her Majesty allowed me to join mage training prematurely, not much older than yourself ma'am. I was deployed to Afrika at fourteen combat and had to prepare first."
The Lieutenant's stumbled response smothered the discussion topic. Visha propped for the period before boot camp to no answer. Variations were provided while none granted depth to the concept. At least the creeping thought of Being X had left her mind. Moderate relief could be had in the poor excuse of a networking session.
"Remember, he's been drinking." Tanya leaned in to whisper to her adjutant. "Odds are he's misremembering and mixing up details. You're not going to get an answer tonight." Visha nodded at the sentiment, thankfully dropping the conversation before it became stale.
Soon enough the current piece of music ended, then a new sympathy of applauds and calls for Serebryakov to play. Visha excused herself with minimal delay and Tanya was left at the officer's table with her regal friend. The Lieutenant leaned in for a private word, wobbling slightly.
"I apologise if I am no longer a proper gentleman Major." The dramatic shift was somewhat comical. It did allow for a final opportunity for temporary gains.
"You've drunken wine, sir. You don't need to apologise. However, if I can have a glass of my own, I think it could improve yourself." The giggle she received was the unfortunate answer she expected. Further attempts to coxes alcohol for herself were abandoned as Gabriel slouched down and started calmly humming to himself, to not being shot at was enough for tonight.
Serebryakov sat down and prepared her piece. The room buzzed with general anticipation for the show the adjutant would put on. It might have been church songs, but Tanya would admit to a kernel of excitement. It was a change from marching and drinking songs exclusive to acapella.
She pressed the first key – and the world went mute. The fingers of Serebryakov danced along the keys to no sound. The faces of the crowd smiled and whispered amongst themselves, and nothing happened. The table felt the same, but her fingers made no sound when they tapped the surface.
She tried to stay calm – she had to. If she controlled, her breathing a panic attack might be averted. Luckily the room focused on her adjutant, sparing the Lieutenant who appeared to ask her a question. His concerned look had to be reassured with nodding in the vain hope it resolved the matter. Humans could effectively communicate nonverbally – although it was nerve-wracking when her hearing was removed, and she could be judged as mentally deficient.
Then the fue music started. The sound of home reverberated in her ears, and she hated it. For once she hated what had been assumed to be lost. The cruelty could only come from Being X yet she had to know more, she had to find the source. All rational answers were available and none of them satisfied her. The music had to be found – she needed to answer the call.
She excused herself in what was hopefully a coherent, composed language that would prevent the drunk from following her. She grabbed her coat and hurried through the building's rear exit into a light snowfall. Thankfully she was alone without a guard patrol or mage in sight. The serin music was louder in the open, still coming from the blackened woods at distances that defied logic. Tanya did not notice she already walked closer until a small glow appeared in the tree line. An orange dot no bigger than a needle's point that drew her in like a moth. That was it, somehow that speck in her vision was the source of the melody that confounded rationality. It hurt to stand still and watch it, she needed to be there through forces that could not be rationalised. If she had the choice of the woods or a return to Berun or Tokyo as the Salaryman, her primal desire for the music would have won.
She knew she could only resist for so long, then the temptation would draw her in. Hence, the logical step would be to go now when the witnesses were gone, and she maintained some self-control. But if Being X wanted her to beckon her, then she would be certain to attend on her terms.
Tanya returned to her quarters to retrieve her rifle without further hesitation. A trip to the armour for grenades was considered but ultimately dismissed it. A computation orb provided enough firepower to level whatever trap was set for her and the ability to resist the call diminished with each second. In due time she was back outside, her coat tucked around her and loaded weapon prepared for resolving the matter in an effective method. She had promised Being X the next time He caused her trouble there would be consequences.
Tanya trudged through the trees and snow to the dot of light that lingered in the distance. Being X's persistence was becoming tiresome. Each step was harder to complete the longer she followed the invisible path to the imaginary god. Reasoning with the beast that ended her first life and tormented this one was evidently impossible.
The remaining option was violence. The first course of action Tanya knew she should have taken much sooner.
Her guided hike led to a campfire occupied by an unseen but clearly heard figure. The crackling of burning logs and the wind could be heard, and the scent of smoke was surprisingly absent. Added to the noise was the click of the rifle's disengaged safety.
Tanya approached the site with her rifle raised for anticipated combat. Although she could vehemently swear someone was there, the exact presence she felt could not be pinned down. Would it be another nutcracker or a thin old man with a white beard? Maybe Being X would surprise her and be nice for once. This would be a poorly organised if well-deserved apology with appropriate compensation.
The initial survey failed to find further detail in the glow. There was a presence there stronger than the music it played.
Tanya propped her rifle against a tree to steady her aim. The perimeter of the fire's glow could just touch the barrel and her gloveless fingers. The accelerated beating of her heart worked to numb the cold that bit at her. Through the sights, the musician abruptly snapped into physical existence. Where there was once a muddled collection of shadows and snow now sat a figure clothed in white. It was more startling than the idealized lie of religious iconography. The intent to shoot on sight disappeared as an uncanny familiarity materialized.
"What the hell?"
The instrument was definitely a bamboo fue. The musician was a woman from the same country of origin. Akitsuma to this world, Japan to the Salaryman.
Its eyes were closed, her black hair tied back into a round bun free from imperfections. The rest of her perfect figure dawned in a white kimono highlighted in shimmering gold décor that danced along with the flicking fire.
The face of the creature was a contradiction to Tanya. Perfect and beautiful, rich white skin free of wrinkles or blemishes, yet, beyond comprehension or memorable. It moved on its own like the surface of rippled water. Unable to provoke lust or strong emotions that differed from admiration. It took increased efforts to maintain the resolve to keep the rifle pointed at the mysterious wonder.
However, it was the attributes of the woman that classified her as inhuman.
In the light of the campfire, the ears of a fox protruded from the musician's scalp. To scale with the approximate size of the hands that played the notes on the fue. The silhouette of multiple tails sharing the colour of the hair gently blew in the mild wind. The amount was unclear as it occupied all space behind the log the creature sat on.
Tanya came here to kill, to say Being X disrupted that plan was an understatement. She thought she had seen all the dirty tricks. This…thing…had to be one of them. She had become adapted to His cruelty, not beauty in musical prowess or crafted appearance.
She knew what this was but thought to call it by that name would legitimise the alleged god.
The creature finished her high pitch tune and withdrew the fue from her lips. The eyes remained closed. In a voice that echoed, it spoke the language Tanya thought she would never hear while on this continent. Last heard in the body of the Salaryman over a decade ago.
"Tanya von Degurechaff. Come closer." The creature contradicted itself once more. The voice was a soft sound that fit a pretty woman while also commanding. Something loud while silent, comforting and fighting. Tanya tried initial resistance before she fell to the silky tone. She stepped out from her makeshift hiding spot with the excuse of securing a better shot.
Fox or humanoid, there was a chance this thing might bleed.
The rifle was kept in firing position as Tanya stepped into the fire's glow. She should just pull the trigger and get this over with - a deserved fate for any decile of Being X. She would if she could bring herself to actually harm something so graceful and marvellous.
Not to mention an unusual oddity that piqued her curiosity.
"This territory is under the jurisdiction of the Germanic Empire. State your name, nationality and intended purpose. I am within the grounds of law to kill those who do not comply." The musician's fox ears twitched with no reaction from the human portion. As she expected, diplomacy was a bust. "Give me a reason Being X."
The thing maintained its imitation of a statue. If Tanya did not know better, she might suspect she was ignorant of her grammar or language. The uncountable tails were the attribute that remained affected by the breeze.
Then it moved. Tanya had watched it intently to be surprised when it displayed the ability so flamboyantly. In her stumble, the creature moved to conceal the fue in the sleeve of the white and gold kimono. The fabric is spacious enough to not be disturbed by silky hands or bamboo.
That was enough, it was an unknown entity possibly reaching for a weapon. Tanya promised she would shoot Being X if He showed Himself again and it was a promise worth keeping.
Tanya squeezed the trigger, the heat of the mana already rapidly sent through her appendages and into the gun. The shockwave would be close hence an active formula for shields in the making as she prepared to control the recoil.
There was a click and nothing happened.
She tried again and the effect did not change. The weapon's refusal to function was addressed by the half-fox that remained in the crosshair.
"You put your faith in the tools that will inevitably fail you, Tanya." The woman withdrew her hand from the kimono sleeve. The rifle's magazine and formerly chambered round were now clutched in the perfect hands - the fue disappeared from sight with the Japanese language still on her lips.
"Tools are to be appreciated, maintained, and used; not invested with your love and trust. It is a familiar trait one can see in the Lord's children." The woman pushed the bullet back into the magazine. "I have observed this concerning trend with you, Tanya. Those around you are reduced to finite objects to be utilised for personal gain. You love their utility, not their individuality or agency. Unrepentant and unaware that these trappings will inevitably lead you to your soul's ruin."
"What are you?" Tanya abruptly realised how naked she felt in the presence of this creature. This monster wearing the skin of idealised beauty.
It used that meaningless and simultaneously worshipped hierarchy to assign some "Lord" above her. If this was not Being X in a new, regrettably beautiful, skin, then it was an underling that should be given the same contempt.
"Have you forgotten so easily Tanya?"
She felt pestered by that apparent gloat. Her disarmed rifle was lowered but she remained on the edge of the camp. A stone toss away from the echo of her past. Tanya steeled herself to bite back at this thing.
"I know you're some leech from that monster Being X. I was under the impression He was monotheistic, yet today He resorts to fairy tales of the Kami. You are both a disgrace!"
Tanya snarled, and the ears of the creature twitched for a reaction. A start to its soft while begrudgingly soothing attempt to terrorize her.
"In the summer of your seventh year of life, you stayed with your grandmother in Hokkaido. She would take you for walks in the woods each day after breakfast. She would take you to a bridge over a stream and tell the folklore of the kitsune. When a fox passed by she would give you a biscuit so you could watch it together. Despite the hubris of your request, the Lord sought to make the encounter a comfortable one for you Tanya."
The musician sat motionless. No sign of breathing or natural movement that would befall a normal life form. It was that calm aura that heightened Tanya's anger. How dare this creature bring up the past! What right did this thing have?
"I didn't realise that self-proclaimed god needed to hire out other spirits. What happened to the hypocrite's monotheism?" Tanya spit out, an abrupt plan to sound as intimidating as possible in this form. The musician regrettably kept its composure and echoey voice.
"Be assured Tanya, I am far from a pagan deity. My true form is not comprehensible to the human mind. I am merely a servant to the Lord, devoted to guiding the flock in accordance with His will. It is this form which you associate with inner peace. I can already sense a calmness in your person that correlates with nostalgia and security. It is there while you decide to deny it.".
There was begrudging truth, if by coincidence over a sound logical deduction. If the musician was another wooden toy or a parody of Zeus she would have open-fired immediately. It was regrettable, but unsurprising, that the encounter had been stacked against her. If this was from Being X it had to be scorned at any personal loss.
"Pegan or not, don't assume I won't treat you as a threat, no matter how absurd as you look." Tanya interpreted the sincerity of her antagonist as a cleverly hidden smug aura.
"This is your ideal image of serenity, Tanya. I cannot be blamed for what you create. However, I see the beauty where you pretend to see sin. It is the spirit of a child enraptured by the lessons of a respected elder. Creating a resolve to learn and respect the acquired knowledge. It is a familiar circumstance, wouldn't you agree?"
The creature gestured for her to step closer. Tanya fell for it and took a step, reminded of the necessity to remain resolved in the face of Being X. That included his proxies masquerading themselves as servants.
"I always knew her stories were tall tales created by embellishment and a lack of understanding. Propagated by greedy monks to drum up donations for Inari Ōkami. I'm certain you'll find that familiar!"
Tanya repeated the sentiment to mock the beast. It might not insight wrath in her opponent to trip her up. That anger fuelled her to stand here against the impossible enemy, her rationality kept the enemy alive for discussion instead of riddled with mana-charged bullet holes.
"You're only lying to yourself when you lie to me, Tanya. Is it worth it in vain the attempt to protect your pride?"
"I'm not lying." Tanya barely believed herself. The reaction of her conversation partner indicated she believed none of it. It hardly mattered, this was just a trick. She lived based on logic and rationality, so there was no proof this was anything more than illusions designed to startle her.
The warm expression shifted to a stern, near intimidating, version. The angel became what Tanya remembered to be a look a disgruntled nun would give when she was in trouble.
"You asked the foxes to give your grandmother a message after she passed. In your first-year school trip, you fought with a group of boys when they antagonised the foxes at their enclosure. The Lord informs me the black eye you received was a point of shame. I express my condolences for your loss."
The memories the Salaryman sought to bury shot back to the forefront. Tanya was back in her old academy uniform, laid flat on her back with a gaggle of halfwits beating down on her. Their grinning, distorted, stupid, asinine faces mocking the runt from class 02. Mocking the "baby" notions of respect for supposed deities. They would disperse before a teacher could catch them. The threat of further humiliation kept the matter silent. The Salaryman hated them, and Tanya hated them. She remained silent, not wanting to give the Fox any satisfaction in watching her cry.
The Fox bowed her head, the animal ears descending forward in tandem. It appeared mournful but not tempted into a pitiable display. "The Lord knows what it is like to lose a son. Your suffering is understood and valued, Tanya. I can assure you that once you accept the Lord into your heart, you will be with your grandmother again."
"I've had enough of this!" Tanya was able to hold it together for the moment. She wanted to strike the Fox regardless of repercussions, her emotions suppressed with her remaining rationality. The past was to be left where it was. Being X or whoever was sent for Him had no right to remind her of it. She turned away from the fire to return to the airfield. The Fox was standing in the path without delay. The empty rifle was already in firing position without the full comprehension of what happened.
"Why do you always run from the challenges you perceive to be difficult Tanya?"
"I do no such thing."
"You should know by now the lies you tell yourself will not work on me." The creature walked towards her. It looked docile but made the blood in Tanya's body freeze in place. This remained an encounter with an unknown force, now it had the range for close quarters.
Tanya loaded another magazine into the weapon with her frozen fingers. In her panic, she struggled to efficiently pull on the charging handle to secure the first shot. The Fox wrenched the weapon from her grasp. It had crossed an impossible distance and pulled away with the same level of strength unbefitting the figure's frame. The limited muscle mass Tanya had accumulated offered no resistance.
"Children that cannot behave will not play with their toys." The Fox expertly handled the weapon, discharging the chambered round and magazine to temporarily disarmed the rifle. It reached its index finger out and touched Tanya's forehead without delay.
Tanya did not feel the touch. She knew she had been hit, pain or force associated with physical contact failed to exist. Her feet were off the ground and her body was suspended in the air without the sensation of falling. The snow-ladened trees that encompassed her vision quickly faded to a blinding light. Was this it? She could feel her body while her eyes saw bright white, red and orange. If this was how she died, then Being X unquestionably cheated. Killed and sent to hell by His worker. It was a show of sloppy policy and administration capabilities. If true, her final thoughts would be dedicated to cursing that demon masquerading as a deity.
Her vision slowly shifted into more complexity than the three bright colours. They would flicker upward accompanied by a crackling sound. The gradual realisation appeared as more colours and the smell of smoke filled her nostrils. This was the pitiable flame of the campsite she was beckoned to. Now, a great roaring fire enveloped her vision.
She was now sitting on a log across from the musician in her original position. Back to the elegant appearance when the fue serenaded the forest. None of these events made logical sense, the slivering possibility that this was Being X's power was too demeaning to acknowledge. Hence this was all an elaborate use of hypnotic stimuli and other secular trickery. Her focus should be on dispatching or escaping from the enemy. Regardless of its appearance or mysterious abilities.
"I promise you, Tanya, there are many abilities of mine that can confuse humans. These weapons created by humanity will not cause what you desire against me." The Fox patted the stolen rifle propped up beside it. Its eyes remained closed.
It did it again, it had somehow accurately guessed the thoughts in Tanya's head. There must have been a tell – like how conmen could read and manipulate a gullible crowd.
"You always seem to associate religion with manipulation Tanya. The abuse of God's word by the wicked does not diminish the truth said. I admire the dedication of selective evidence despite its misplaced use in this situation."
"Stop that!" Tanya snapped, only to be giggled at by her opponent. She scowled at the Fox creature to incite similar amusement rather than the usual fear.
"Take no offence, Tanya. You demanded this meeting to despise and avoid it. It is funny to watch your mind support these contradictions."
"I did no such thing. I definitely did not ask to be harassed and mocked by a demon dressed as a yōkai."
"You asked the lord for an explanation of the workings of the faith. You refused to listen to Him yourself and scorn all guides of this world. Hence why He sent me." The Fox touched her breast with an unblemished hand.
"He sent you to harass me. You have some distorted way of teaching."
"You would not go to the Lord, hence I came to you. The free will you desire has been respected; you just do not respect God."
That was a laughable point and Tanya had no regrets for her snappy answer. "How can I or anyone have respect and free will under Being X? All my interactions have been extorsions."
"Does that include your ability to live against the Lord's teaching? If He desired absolute control, would He not force humanity to bow before him, lest there be immediate repercussions? Why would He tolerate a species as disloyal as humans if they were only toys to play with?"
That point felt irrelevant to Tanya. From her perspective the life she had to live equated to the specified examples mentioned by the Fox. "Being X only spoke to me before my death to berate me. I don't remember many choices in being thrown into this world."
"You spent your first life willingly separated from the Lord. Judgment will not be passed for how you or anyone lived while in ignorance of the Church. Those times the Lord approached and you turned away, was that not of your free will?"
The Fox listed examples before Tanya could get a rebuttal in.
"The missionaries you impolitely turned away. The open doors of churches you walked past. The Catholic girl you talked with at your twenty-seventh birthday party – she did notice you roll your eyes. Countless times you were able to learn and listen to the faith and you ignored all, in this life and your first one. To the one who knocks, the door will be opened. The Lord will accept all with open arms, they only need to open their hearts."
"Then why would He speak to me at all? I certainly did not consent to any of this madness."
"There are no lost causes to the Lord. You were given an opportunity of acceptance at the time of your death, and you still denied Him. That is your free will. This life is a chance to correct the mistakes of that freedom."
Tanya's composure had been strained for long enough. Her superiors had to see a well-mannered and highly disciplined subordinate. Under these guides, her emotions were muted. But here, while being drilled on the fundamental principles of alleged fulfilment, she let herself snap. Disinterested with composure she stood and shouted across the campsite at the Fox. The creature offered no reaction to her mortal outburst.
"Penance? I need to do penance?" Tanya would laugh harder if the circumstance or her lung capacity allowed it. This was gradually becoming a frustrating exercise. "I lived a fair life without Being X or His church. From my point of view, He has never cared for me or anyone that would not blindly follow Him. Good riddance, I don't need you or Being X. No one with self-respect and half a brain would need to rely on faith alone."
"If the Lord had abandoned you – as you claim – then you would have been left to die and your soul decent into hell on the train tracks."
This, Tanya had to forcibly laugh at. Else she would have to consider the claim of her adversary. There was an obvious alternative that made the angel in need of obvious alternatives. "Maybe He should have sent me back onto the platform with a stern talking to like the one I'm receiving now."
She kicked a tuff of snow and dirt into the fire in hopes of antagonising her adversary. Anything to break the static routine. The Fox remained unbothered by the attempt.
"What a worthy life it would be." It spoke with a slight but noticeable lilt of sarcasm. "To wake up, work and sleep without a sense of fulfilment. Your free time spent wallowing in temporary pleasures that only fed the void inside your soul. No family beyond obligations, no friends that did not contribute to your networking, no higher purpose – only a promotion. May those that offer value to life be punished for their mercy."
The Fox ended with a smile; its eyes still closed. Tanya had to stay silent after the assertion. A newfound weakness in her legs forced her to sit down again. No thoughts or retorts or counterpoints were created, lest she grant a concession to the angel. At the end of the day, the Salaryman was the predominant force that got her this far in the Empire No part of her wanted to divulge details of that time that might further change her perspective on the past; granny included.
"That's what this is then. Redemption? Do you hear yourself?"
"I use the term penance. However, the end would be the same."
"Then why did Being X not provide me with any instructions? An employer that sets expectations without clear directive is at best guilty of negligence."
"An employee that cannot decipher overt messages or follow simple rules is irresponsible. Does a childhood raised among nuns, an education in theology, companions that maintain the faith and abide by the ten commandments not meet your criteria?"
The fire crackled, and Tanya held her tongue as the Fox continued to smile. The wind let up for a second and the world temporarily stood still. There was a vague point to the argument and to admit verbally would equate to some kind of defeat. Resistance to Being X was in of itself a victory no matter the opportunity or outcome.
"That's preposterous. I shouldn't have to decipher clues to meet a quota."
"Your claim would have validity if the "clues" were not so obvious. One needs to take up their cross and live in the image of Christ to become one with Him. You shouldn't blame others for your mistakes Tanya. It is a bad quality for an employee and an employer. Wouldn't you agree?"
Tanya had to try and maintain control, but her composure was slipping. Her next bout of inspirational antagonising would inevitably turn to aggression. She was unarmed so just retaliation would be handicapped. It conflicted her to consider that option or to have enough frustration. Causing damage to inherit beauty felt wrong on a moral level. Her hatred for Being X was the determining factor that kept her on the offensive.
"You defend your untenable position because of pride Tanya – the most destructive of the sins. With it, you cannot recognise your sins. It always leads to suffering."
"What did I do to deserve this suffering?" Tanya found her voice.
"What did Our Lord do to deserve being led to Calvary? Though innocent, He wilfully died for you and the collective sins of mankind."
"Assuming those old stories are anything more than fiction."
"Oh Tanya, surely you can do better." While the Fox was defensive, it maintained the confidence that indirectly turned Tanya's argument against her. Now she had to defend what was intended to attack Being X.
"It is a fair point. A carpenter dies and walks again. It defies logical analysis."
"Ten disciples die as martyrs for proclaiming the same truth of the resurrection. Multiple authors before and after the Bible is assembled do the same. Then we have the miracles of history along with your rebirth."
"Then why does Being X need me? If I'm so reprehensible as you claim I should be left alone as a lost cause."
"Because He loves you, Tanya." The smile worn by the fox could be heard in the words. It made her scoff.
"I doubt it. He puts me in the body of a child with magical abilities that would get me conscripted. I couldn't ask for a worse employer."
"In His humanity and compassion, Jesus wept for Lazarus; in His divinity, He raised him from the dead. He knew you before you were born. He knew you would choose to walk astray, and as should a father, He beckoned you back home but respected your decisions. The final intervention before it was too late so you could come back."
"You still haven't explained why I need Being X. So what if He loves me? I certainly don't feel the same way. Especially after all your attempts to belittle me."
"There is your answer Tanya. Your pride prevents your humbling to improvement. You elevate yourself above your fellow man in a bid to become their superior or to aggrandise yourself." The Fox rose to its feet, ever elegant in its movement. The tails consumed the space behind it in tandem with the warm breeze. "God will always be there to protect you, Tanya. But only you can let Him into your life, and when that happens, the truth of His love will never leave you."
At that moment Tanya felt like she was back in Japan. On that bridge looking into the woods. It had taken a lifetime and a fresh start, but Granny's words had finally come true. It sat beside her on the log. Further warmth irradiated as she was looked upon by the beautiful face that held no form. She wanted to cave in, to embrace this enemy as an equal that only told her the truth. It would be easier, but that was exactly what Being X wanted. Her subjugation.
"This is ridiculous!" Tanya shot back up. Shouting directly into the unnatural face of the Fox with as much animosity as she could muster. "If Being X needs irrational fools to kill me on a train platform so I can see His way then I refuse to follow Him. I bet you need to. That thing couldn't lay a finger on me if he tried, Neither could you. That is why you both need to resort to constant trickery; for the illusion of meaningful power."
The Fox frowned. It made Tanya's stomach sink but she stood by her principles, even as it became a difficult task in front of a witness.
"Is that your final word on the matter Tanya?"
"I'm certain. I will kill you and that monster personally if you show yourselves again. With my "tools" if I need to. They have never failed me, unlike Being X if any of what you're saying is true."
The thing was silent. Disappointed but otherwise idle. The silence was only marred by the fire, agonisingly long until more theology came out in the echoey voice.
"The just admit to their limitations and seek fulfilment among the Lord Our God. The wicked lead others astray with glee. The ignorant seek justification and wholeness with that which can never satisfy."
It stood up. Ensnaring Tanya with more awe as it touched her forehead. "Until we meet again Tanya." Her eyelids became heavy, and her instincts to retaliate were unable to react until it was too late. Her body was too heavy to remain standing "The Lord abandons no one. Not the arrogant or the meek. Until we meet again."
When Tanya opened her eyes again the presence of the Fox was gone. She was alone with a smouldering fire that burned through its fuel. The wind and natural sounds of wildlife proved her hearing had returned to stay. The apparent cold immediately infiltrated her body and she shivered despite the winter coat. At least she could feel that all her extremities were in working order. The beast had not taken off a limb or cursed her with an ailment in spite of or to artificially increase devotion. The only difference she could notice was the accelerated heart rate and panting that cooled her lungs. Hopefully a consequence of Being X's corrupt presence.
Tanya sat down on the same log. Her rifle and magazines were propped against her. It made her laugh for a multitude of insignificant reasons. Was this a peace offering, or was the return of her property the best the Fox could do as a parting gift? Either way, she could fulfil her promise of killing those useless fiends the next time they reared their heads again. They would rue arming her.
Being X did not want to harm her? She sneered at the thought. She would believe it when she saw it for herself.
24/11/1924/ Berun, Germanic Empire / Residence of Vice-Admiral Fredrich Canaris, Lounge / 19:51
Princess Rachel Stuart could not hear a thing as her world collapsed in on itself. She had tried so hard. She spent each day of the last decade ignoring, pretending and praying her past would remain there. Her best intentions had now failed.
In all her mental preparations there had been no plan for this moment. Her mind could only retreat to the basic underline emotion: fear.
She was back in that man's bed; her hands were tied behind her body in a compromising position for the camera. At any length of time, that monster would do whatever he desired to her. Rachel had to bite back tears.
She thought she was in love, that he loved her, that the photos he convinced her to take were symbols of that affection and not perverse lust. It was a whirlwind romance between a second-year engineering student and her professor. Their love was going to be their secret until they could marry. The photos were a little memento for private keepsakes or reminders of their re-enactments. Just for herself, the man, and his wife.
At first, it was an exotic enjoyment that livened the mundanity of life. After all, the Commonwealth had come crumbling down and pestilence ravaged the Americas. Mother did not care, and that was why she sent her away to study at a university. Why should Rachel not enjoy herself for once? In time she grew to dislike, then despise the extremes she once willingly performed in their bedroom. Protests turned to denial which led to the first instance of Canaris' dirty trick.
Several thousand Pounds delivered in a week, or her breasts would be published in the newspaper. Provide insider information on a government topic that could be used for insider trading, or her fanny would be shown to the Unitary. Pose for photos with the wife or the Pope would see what the Stuart dynasty did during their exile. Take off her clothes and put this in, or he would do it himself and he did not care how much she begged him to stop
She barely got out of that last hell; she should have known it would come back to haunt her. The maids could only expunge so much of the past. There was the hope the photo negatives would remain charred in the fireplace.
Canaris had said something, the specifics lost currently lost to her mind. They had been discussing the outdated Imperial navy for an extended length of time. Then he asked for something she could not provide. Blueprints or shipping routes or something. A Commonwealth state secret regardless of the specifics. She politely declined, for the Vice Admiral to get out of his recliner to hand her an envelope of old photos she long thought to be destroyed. He went on to laugh and ridicule a deaf audience. Speaking with a malevolent grin that never ceased to grow. Mentioning a private "trade opportunity" that had an overt implication of recreating the photographs.
The predator could change, the years would pass, and the damage done to her body could try to mend, but that evil smile remained the same. At that moment, Rachel felt as if she never left her old life.
An elderly pensioner reclined in his chair, gloating and undressing her with his eyes. The Imperial was the same man that had controlled her before.
She could kill Canaris.
She always hid a knife in her boot since she got out of her last brush with slavery. If she rushed him, she might be able to pin the Vice Admiral to the chair and stab him. Rachel could see several objects within the lounge that could be used as a bludgeoning tool. She was a young woman pushing thirty. Her physique would be enough to overpower a senior citizen. Last time she was still a child, now she could fight.
Alternatively, she could play this game for a day and await the chance where she could kill Canaris in his bed. One more stint of debauchery for her survival.
Her time in the navy made her kill enemy combatants by the necessity of a just war. She was already a murderer, this time she was certain the recipient deserved it.
Rachel refused to cry. She wanted to but would not let Canaris have that victory over her. Neither would she devolve into a beast lacking in self-restraint.
Murder would solve nothing. A court case would drag her family and nation down due to her stupidity. Who would believe a self-defence plea? How many other potential victims would be buried alongside the man's coffin? Her impulsiveness that started this debacle would not liberate her. She had to live with daily regret that marked every day of her life. For once in her life, she wanted to do right by God and not stoop to lowly desires or engage in underhanded tactics that prolonged the problem.
"So help me God." She whispered to herself; it was a revelation that dawned on her later than it should have. Whatever she could do remained to be discovered. Right now she would need to play along - lest make it worse for her return to that hell of slavery.
"Pardon me, sir?" Her crooked voice barely sounded like it belonged to anyone. Her misery was an evident joy to Canaris.
"It is rude not to listen young lady. A princess should know better."
A claim made by the pervert that engaged in blackmail. If she had the stomach for it she would scoff at the hubris. That same man continued on with his rehearsed self-aggrandizing speech.
"As I was saying. What am I to do with you, Captain Stuart?"
Therein was the million-pound question. How did she manoeuvre around the Vice Admiral without betraying her country or diminishing her self-value?
Rachel squeezed her legs together. The man probably expected an offer of relations in exchange for silence, that was how it worked with her professor. They just skipped the part where she believed it was an actual relationship filled with affection.
Rachel thought back to the fox in the garden. A silent, stoic – and really cute - guardian observing the world around it. Somehow it seemed to know Canaris would be a threat without prior knowledge. Animals were known for their instincts after all. If she mimicked the creature she might survive the engagement, allow Canaris to lead the conversation along, and wait until an escape appeared. To think a random mammal could influence her decision-making processes; it would be funny if she was not terrified.
"Indulge me, Captain, what would the papers think if they saw these photographs? The citizenry would be thrilled to gossip about something other than the war. Wouldn't you agree?"
The demon gloated on, listing hypothetical responses to drive in the gravity of the situation. The emperor: disdain for the Albion. The Grand Council and Imperial army would mock them to their faces. Her beloved navy would be humiliated because she spread her legs as a teenager. Rachel sunk deeper into the chair as the list continued ad nauseam. Maybe God would be merciful and have the house spontaneously explode with her in it. Spare the world of Canaris and grant her some relief from the abuse.
"I wonder what Her Majesty will do when she learns that her eldest daughter is a whore? You both would be in some trouble, wouldn't you? It would be nice to add a head of state to my list of informants."
A spark ignited within Rachel; a burst of life that had been artificially injected into her corpse. The Vice Admiral's attempt to threaten had birthed her resistance.
Rachel bit her thumb, trying to control herself to not reveal her new plan. If Mother "found out" she might survive this with her secret in place.
"Are you going to lose your allowance? I predict another photo session could make back whatever mummy doesn't cough up."
Rachel removed her thumb once she had the stomach to say these dreadful words. "I-" She choked momentarily, it hurt to play this game. "I assume you would be the one buying that…product."
"Well, since you are offering. I would be willing to accept such an arrangement, with conditions of course. I must confess I am tempted to get started today. Although, I wonder if you are worth as much as the Commonwealth's dirty secrets. Dirtier than the regal slut at least."
Rachel bit her thumb again, Canaris tuned out when he started rubbing his inner thigh. Her mind ran through the final contemplation.
It would be a monumental task to undertake even if it was not on short notice. Rachel remembered her breaking point when the only options she had were begging for help or ending it – the outcome she still felt like she deserved. Mother answered the phone call and within a month the professor and his wife were arrested on corruption charges. Unsurprisingly the evil couple was also involved in criminal activity to profit off smuggling substances across the border. The last she heard of her first "flame" they were shipped to a penal labour camp in Aquilona's arctic north. It was a punishment too good for the likes of her old professor or Canaris.
The professor and his wife were mere white-collar criminals. Vice Admiral Canaris had experience and resources that matched and possibly outpaced the Stuarts. Their spy ring of maids would not be able to sweep this under the rug easily even if they did win. But the intelligence game was one the Albion's had always played. That raw strength was how the Jacobites won the cause against the House of Orange. If they defeated a lowly continental German before they would do it again.
"I will need time, but you will need to keep this between us." Rachel was surprised by the strength her voice had.
"What?" The fantasy of a submissive or sex-crazed woman had removed Canaris from the reality of his extortion.
"I can get you the information you want, but I will need time; pay attention." She would have pushed the remark further if she trusted herself to hold it together. She stood up, the perplexed spymaster looked up at her. A man accustomed to being on the offensive tended to neglect the possibility of a victim fighting back. While she had the veneer of power she would buy as much time as possible. While she could startle him, Canaris was too experienced to lose his professional edge.
"A portfolio on Commonwealth resource acquisition, a copy of the balance sheet and blueprints to your navy's newest ship. If the Empire's armada is as underdeveloped as you claim, go and be a faithful ally and remedy the situation."
Rachel nodded, unable to trust her voice. Now was the time for her retreat and she wasted no more time in the presence of that creature.
"Two weeks!" A voice shouted out. Rachel persisted on wobbly legs that felt to be on the verge of collapsing. She managed to hold it together until she scurried into her car. She managed to stave off crying until her driver pulled out and began the drive to the Aquilonian Embassy. Her mascara would be ruined but who would be there to care?
Rachel watched the world outside the car. Silently hoping to catch a glimpse of her fox friend. Maybe if the plan imploded, she would keep the inspiration for this a secret, the Empire did not need to believe she was guided by animals.
At least she had done right by God. If she listened to Him in the first place none of this would have happened. She just hoped it would not be too late.
"Deus vult."
AN:
First thing is first: the reason for the delay.
This chapter was complete when I said posted the previous chapter. However, when I got back from the camping trip, I had to continuously rewrite the angel scene again and again due to my beta reader's feedback. Xanen and Sailormage are two fantastic men that I can not compliment enough.
I am uploading earlier in the process than I would normally want. I am still waiting on feedback from a final beta reader (the one that always takes two weeks to open the word document) but have gone without his input due to recent news regarding my mother's health. Yesterday I was informed there is a potential risk of death but everything will likely be alright. She is well enough to hassle me for my hobby of writing so it can't be that bad. In the worst-case scenario, I want one less thing on my mind among the million tedious things life needs to throw at us. Further, if something does happen I do not feel comfortable making you find people wait any longer than you already have.
There is no official hiatus to be announced but here we are.
There was a big ramble I intended to put here but I find myself not able to tolerate it anymore. I am uncertain if the unsatisfied tone of my person carries over into these notes so I will keep necessary exclamations to a minimum.
Why the Kitsune? I believe it works on a symbolic level along with a practical one. We avoid the reuse of Being X or changing the appearance from a toy or an invisible force. Most importantly, I like cryptids.
Why do I believe this point to be necessary? Without explaining in a way that reveals later elements of plot and character development. From a meta-perspective, I am compelled to do something different where all other writers (fanfiction and official) omit or despise Being X. I have attempted to make it clear since chapter one I was taking a pro-religious approach but believe here is when it will become more explicit. I still want to follow the canon mould and hence shouldn't overuse Being X or His flok too much. Granted, I always intended to be here in Norden in fewer chapters but these things evolve and grow on their own despite attempts to trim the fat.
The character of Tanya is (currently at this point in the story) unwilling to entertain a conversation about faith or accept the possibility she might be wrong. I want to be as faithful as possible (except for the lore but canon doesn't do any, so I feel no remorse on adding where there nothing stands) so have to make Tanya willing to talk before conversations of greater importance can occur. In another story, this could be skipped over since I doubt anyone can replicate the stubbornness of Tanya. It felt wrong to have her cooperate in any form in this current state so the small struggle to draw her in and make her sit down to talk had to take place. The alternative is to have her dragged kicking and screaming to a sit-down but we don't see Being X do that in canon and it is less interesting to read (honey and vinegar as they say).
The next chapter is approximately two-thirds written and one-third edited. I jumped around writing different parts of the story and some private projects. I do not want to give an estimate on a release. I partially want to say I haven't been sitting on my thumbs all this time.
Thank you to everyone who has followed and favoured the story. I'm not in it for the numbers but I am humbled by the number of people that are here and reading. So if you are reading this, thank you very very much for being here, no matter what you think of it or how much you interact with it. I never thought this little project of mine would accumulate such an audience and I am honoured to be in this position. Thank you for reading this.
God be with you all.
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The Queen is dead. Long live the King.