Reorganisation: Snows Always Melt

40 Years after the Great War

May 9th 20:45: Passenger safely disembarked in Threlaebourgh, Norden. End of log

Excerpt from the log of SS Tannenfels

May 9th Unified Year 1925 22:30

SS Tannenfels, Threlaebourgh Port, Norden

Captain Ignancy Borek stared at the blank page of his log in dismay as he tried to figure out what he should fill the empty space with. Despite belonging to the merchant fleet, and as such a civilian rather than a naval officer, his ship and crew had been requisitioned by the military several times and he had enough experience working with them to know they often liked to keep certain details from the official records. However, usually they were a little less oblique about what they wanted him to omit and considering the nature of his cargo, he was worried about his future job prospects if he were to get this wrong.

And what am I supposed to make of this? He grumbled to himself, feeling a knot of anxiety as he picked up the nearby telegram at his desk and reread it for the thousandth time.

Captain Borek: SS Tannenfels,

Prince Wilhelm arrived safely in Berlun. We thank you for your service.

General Staff offices

He sighed, dropping the message once again as he felt a migraine building behind his eyes. He knew that wasn't true, it couldn't be! The boy had disappeared almost as soon as they'd landed at the Norden ports. At first, he'd thought it was some sort of a mistake, likely an overworked clerk sending a standard message without knowing any details of the boy's surreptitious journey. However, when he had pushed the subject, he had only gotten instructions not to contact them any further. Now he wasn't sure if there had been a mistake or if he was receiving strict instructions to remain silent. Once more, they had already seen pictures in the newspaper of the boy back in the capital, even though it was impossible for him to have travelled back so soon. He suspected they were part of a cover-up operation, something that would be much less worrying if he knew exactly what he was supposed to be covering up.

He let out a frustrated groan as he stared down at the sheet again before turning the pages back a few days to when the Prince had just arrived. Maybe he could take some inspiration from his earlier records.

May 7th 20:00: The passenger arrived and was seen by the ship physician, ship immediately set sail for Holstenstadt Tom Kyleas ordered by Gen von Sholtz.

He ignored the remainder of the brief note, knowing that the observations about the weather and wind speed would offer him little help with his task. Everything in the log was technically true, but it also severely undersold what had actually happened and his understated account had already been weighing on his conscience.

The crew had already been worried far before the prince had arrived, who wouldn't be sitting on an old tub like this in a war zone? They had been extremely fortunate not to have been hit during the Federation bombing raids and the closing gunfire and explosions had told them that the city's defenders had all but lost the fight. So when a bloodied child had come staggering through the smoke, clothes torn and covered with injuries, they had been all but ready to mutiny rather than stay a moment longer.

They hadn't even realised it was the little Letzenbourg Prince at first, they had taken him for a refugee missed during the evacuation, such was the severity of his wounds and the damage to his uniform. It had only been the ship's cook, Beck, who had noticed the resemblance to the boy they'd seen in the newspapers. Although they all knew that he was not truly one of the great aces, only a propaganda fantasy like white silver; Beck had been collecting the cigarette cards the government put out in the ration packs and recognised him. It had horrified them all to see the boy had been left in a real warzone. Looking at the lad's injuries, they could only thank God that he had survived.

"They should have evacuated him earlier." Ignancy murmured to himself disapprovingly, thinking of the moment the boy had collapsed on the gangplank barely able to breathe. "Hell! A kid shouldn't be in a place like that at all! I don't care how inspiring people think seeing a young lad in uniform might be, it's not worth risking the poor kid's life like that."

They had never found out what had happened to him, or his escort for that matter; there was no way the emperor's young nephew would be travelling around a place like this without a guard, not that it had done him any good.

Ignancy bit his lip thoughtfully as he turned his attention back to his log. Putting that the prince had been seen by the ship's physician was a phrase that stretched the truth to its limit too. Despite the exempt status of those in the merchant navy, their previous ship's doctor had chosen to join the war effort and was serving in the Imperial Navy. They had not yet been able to properly replace him, not that it stopped Ignancy from charging for the extra crewman if the government was paying of course. This had meant that the cook, Beck, who also doubled as the doctor's assistant in an emergency, had been the only one aboard with any experience with medicine. The man was more accustomed to slicing meat than sewing it back together though and Ignancy had been worried that he was doing more harm than good leaving him in his care.

Still, the kid was a tough little soldier, barely even making a noise as Beck patched him up, despite the lack of anaesthetic on board. All they'd really heard from him were quiet prayers as he grit his teeth through the pain, although the cook had told him that he suspected that may have been the loudest he could speak at the time. His windpipe and larynx were all but crushed.

Still, if this truly were part of a cover-up, he couldn't add such detail; he was worried enough about using the boy's name, despite the two telegrams in his possession that held the information. Did the military want him to get rid of them too? He wasn't sure and he wasn't willing to risk destroying them without their permission, it might affect their compensation for the mission.

He sighed again and skipped a few pages of course corrections, weather observations and U-boat sightings before letting his gaze fall on the next entry relating to the young Prince.

May 9th 14:06: Additional warnings from Suebic Naval Command suggests increased activity from Federation U boats, commerce raiders and disguised merchant vessels attacking ships along our course. We are assured that the High Sea's fleet is being deployed to protect shipping but with recent sightings so close by we are considering course change to take refuge in a closer port.

Addendum 14:18: Passenger suggests stopping at Norden ports rather than those along the Northern Germanian coast. Weather and U-boat reports (see below) confirm this is likely safer course.

Ignancy rubbed his temples once more, the Prince's "suggestion" had been little more than a hoarse whisper after he had gotten out of bed and staggered his way to his cabin, almost scaring the life out of him in the process. He'd rushed the boy back to his bed, fearing the exertion itself would finish him off, before double-checking the reports again for himself. It was as though both the weather and Federation vessels had parted for them leaving a clear path towards Threlaebourgh, a small harbour in occupied Legadonia. He'd changed course immediately, thanking God for a safe way through but even now he couldn't help but wonder how the young Prince could have known.

"Then again, that isn't the weirdest thing that happened with that kid." He mumbled to himself, feeling uneasy as he flicked back to the blank page with today's date atop it. Sailors had a reputation for being superstitious, long days on the open seas played tricks on the mind. Ignancy had always thought himself better than the average seaman in that regard, but this incident had left him uneasy. After all, how can you explain a Prince disappearing without a trace?

He had been aboard when they made port, of that he was absolutely certain. He had checked in on him personally before visiting the harbour master and explaining their unexpected arrival. The kid had been fast asleep, as he had been for the majority of the journey, and he showed little sign of waking up any time soon. Seeing that he was resting, and knowing the rest of the crew also needed to go ashore, he had locked the young prince in his room to be sure he was neither disturbed nor had the chance to wander off while he went ashore. He couldn't have been gone for more than twenty minutes but by the time he had returned, he had found the room empty, despite the closed room.

He couldn't understand it, the porthole was too small for even a young lad like him to fit through but even if he had found a way out where did he go? He'd asked around the docks and village but no one had seen him leave. He'd had the crew scour the entire ship, top to bottom, but with no luck there either. He'd even considered, with mounting panic, that he might have fallen overboard but the tide would have pushed him ashore by now, no matter what state he was in. He'd simply disappeared, like a ghost.

"Then there's that." He grumbled looking toward the telegram again, knot filling his stomach. Everyone was saying the Prince was back in the capital, could it have been he wasn't aboard at all? Then who had they transported? A decoy? Was the government so heartless as to use innocent kids as decoys for the royals? Or had the crew suffered some strange shared delusion that he had been aboard?

And what do I put in the logs? He thought holding his head in his hands.

"To Hell with it!" he cursed scribbling a few lines and snapping the book closed. He wanted to forget all about this incident and knew a local bar that would help him do so. No matter what the log said, as far as he was concerned, the Saint had never been on this boat.

May 19th Unified Year 1925 19:30

Beelitz Sanitorium, Beelitz, Outskirt of Berlun

Sophia studied her young prince carefully as the car pulled up to the entrance of the military hospital, searching for some sign that he might have changed his intentions. He'd initially been cheerful and chatty during their short journey from the General Staff offices, riding high off of the plans he had been putting together against the foreign ministry. Although she was still a little unsure what he aimed to gain from his scheming, she was happy to see him return to his old self again and equally pleased that the expected victory had restored his confidence.

However, as they reached the outskirts of the capital, and made their way along the smaller roads towards their destination, he had become increasingly quiet and withdrawn. As though mere proximity to the sanatorium was draining his freshly regained energy and feeding the worries that had only just been dispelled by their changes in fortune. It became increasingly difficult to pry words from him as they passed the woods that protected the quiet little medical facility on Berlun's periphery. Eventually, their conversation faded away completely, leaving her watching as the young boy sat silently staring out of the window of the car.

"Would you like to come with me this time?" She asked hopefully, following his gaze towards the entrance of the ward, the tall red-brick building looming over the car and casting an eerie shadow in the dusk light. "I know she would love to see you."

The boy said nothing, remaining silent as he watched a wounded soldier struggling out of the door to the building, a crutch in each hand keeping him upright. He was missing a leg, an injury far too common amongst the common soldiery, especially along the Rhine. Judging by his difficulties, he had yet to get used to the new limits his injuries had imposed on his mobility and he swore loudly as he hobbled his way towards the stairs in front of the hospital, despite the ramps that flanked either side of the building for those who could not manage them.

The young prince tensed as the man, with slow and deliberate movements, lowered himself down the first step, angrily waving off the help of nearby orderlies as he began his descent. It seemed that even with injuries such as his, the man refused to give up his independence and she could almost feel the determined sense of defiance the man seemed to radiate. The young prince must have felt the same and the young boy's shoulders relaxed slightly as the man carefully made his way towards the bottom.

Sophia felt her own tension ease and a sliver of hope filled her chest. She knew the prince still blamed himself for Christina's injuries, worse still, he had convinced himself that she would do the same. Despite surviving the attack in the south, the news that Christina would never walk again had hit him just as hard as if they'd lost her that day. He had never said so aloud, but she had heard him murmuring in his sleep. He believed Christina's injuries had ended any chance of her living a fulfilling life and he was utterly convinced that he was completely to blame for it and that she would despise him for it.

Perhaps witnessing the injured man on the stairs push onwards might help dispel him of that notion. Her sister would always make her way in the world, she was too headstrong to let something like this get the better of her. Hopefully, the prince would see that too one day. She knew it was too much to ask that he might forgive himself for her sister's injuries, at least for the moment, but perhaps he could open himself up to the idea that Christina had forgiven him. Maybe one day he would accept that she had never blamed him at all.

Suddenly, the prince let out a hiss and jerked forward, barely stopping himself from rushing from the car as the man tumbled down the stairs. The orderlies were there in a second, but the fall had been enough to exacerbate the poor man's wounds and he was quickly ushered inside. However, Sophia's attention remained on the prince as his shoulders slumped and a fresh aura of despondency seemed to wash over him.

"No…I…I don't think it would be right just now." He said eventually, not even turning to look at her as he made his excuses. "I have to prepare for the hearing tomorrow… Maybe next time."

Sophia suppressed a disappointed sigh and shook her head as she opened the door and lifted herself from the car. It had been nearly two weeks since they'd returned to the capital and despite all the work they had to do, she had done her best to make time to visit Christina every day they were back here. The prince had quietly approved the idea, and she had hoped that meant he was finally willing to see her unconscious sister. However, although he accompanied her on the ride here on almost every one of her visits, he had always made some excuse to avoid seeing her once faced with the doors of the hospital. Her brave little prince had terrified himself with what he thought waited for him inside.

Part of her wanted to drag him from the car, force him to see Christina, force him to see things as they really were rather than what he believed them to be. If he would just see her, perhaps she would finally wake and he could hear from her that she didn't blame her. Everything would be alright again and they could go back to normal.

However, even contemplating such an act felt like a betrayal, not only to him but to her sister too. She felt certain that Christina would not want him to come until he was ready.

If he's ever ready.

"I'll send the car back for you." He continued, not daring to look her in the eye as the car pulled away, not even looking out of the window as the car disappeared into the trees. She felt another knot of anxiety pull at her stomach, he was only the first of her worries today, the other lay immobile on a bed inside.

She made her way inside, nodding a greeting to some of the now familiar staff members as she made her way towards her sister's room. Despite being a military facility, the prince's name held a great deal of influence here and, with the help of a generous donation, they had been able to secure a private room for Christina, away from the larger wards filled with fresh patients from the front.

Sophia murmured a quiet thanks for that as she suppressed a shiver and fixed her gaze firmly on the floor, doing her best to ignore the groaning from one of the shared rooms she passed. Much like the prince, she was no great fan of hospitals and she'd resolved to try her best to ignore the unpleasantness around her, focussing on the sound of her echoing footsteps instead. At least until the sound of a second pair forced her to raise her head.

"Matheus!" She called, looking up as she recognised the 203rds second's boot steps. He looked tired as he exited her sister's room, dark bags under his eyes showing even at a distance. He must have come straight after his duty shift again, she realised, feeling a warm and appreciative smile tug at her lips, he's probably been here most of the day.

Although his and Christina's courtship had been short, with little time to spend with one another away from their duties, he had remained steadfast and loyal to her, visiting her even more regularly than she had when time allowed. It was something she would be forever thankful for; she hated the thought of her sister being alone in a place like this for too long. At least she knew Christina would be well looked after while she and the prince were away.

"Sophia." He replied awkwardly, he hadn't quite grown used to addressing her so informally, he claimed the Major's training made it seem unnatural. However, they had decided to discard the ranks and etiquette when they were visiting Christina. As far as Sophia was concerned Matheus had earned the right to be a little more informal, he was practically family after all. "Here for the night shift?"

"Yes, sorry I couldn't come any earlier to keep you both company." She replied feeling genuinely apologetic, she knew it was difficult to be here alone. However, she'd been busy most of the day with preparations for their next deployment with the close combat company, not to mention accompanying the prince to his meeting with the foreign minister. "Any change?"

Weiss smiled sadly and shook his head. She hadn't really been expecting anything, although the doctors thought she might wake any day now, neither she nor Weiss had seen much to echo their optimism. Hope was all they had for the moment, however, she sensed there was something else to the man's glum expression.

"The doctors said we should try talking to her, they think she might be able to hear us..." He replied, sensing that she had noticed his unease. "I wanted to talk about what we could do when she was well, maybe visit a jazz club again or one of the beaches on the Ostsee. But everything I said always seemed to end up back at the war."

Sophia nodded in understanding. She felt the same whenever she tried to talk to her slumbering sister; like she should try to focus on something more pleasant and hopeful. But they were soldiers, most of their experiences were of combat, making it difficult to think about anything but the war. Even now they were back in the capital, everything revolved around it. From the news, to the choices of food or clothing you could buy, even the race courses using dogs because they had been robbed of all their horses for the army. The war affected everything; it was impossible to escape it.

This felt doubly true for Sophia. Most of the news she wanted to share revolved around the prince and his plans. Telling Christina about all that would no doubt worry her, especially since there was no way she could help them right now. Still, she knew her sister would be furious with her if she tried to hide anything from her.

"Don't worry about that." She replied putting a friendly hand on his shoulder. "She would hate to feel like she was being left out of the loop, it would only worry her more if she didn't know what we were up to."

A weak smile passed between them. Both knew the words were true but it didn't make it any easier to force themselves to believe them.

"You should head home and get some rest." She continued shooting him a reassuring smile. "And maybe a drink, although don't go too crazy or Christina will make you regret it."

"You know that's not fair. She's the only woman other than the major that could scare me into staying sober." He replied and they shared a moment of laughter before bidding each other farewell and parting ways, leaving Sophia alone in the corridor.

She steeled herself as she reached for the handle to Christina's room, taking a deep breath as she prepared to enter. She may have visited several times by now, but it didn't make it any easier to see her sister like this.

Finally, she gathered her determination and turned the handle only to find the door suddenly swinging open and the face of a surprised-looking nurse holding a wash bowl staring back at her.

"Frau Müller, my apologies, Matheus didn't tell me you were here." She apologised, quickly stepping aside to allow the woman to pass.

"No need to apologise." The nurse replied with a bow, her red scarf falling from her shoulder slightly. "I'm all done here so I'll leave you two alone. Have a good evening Captain Zerbist."

Sophia watched as the nurse departed and made her way up the corridor before disappearing around a corner. She had met the woman a week before, a new recruit from somewhere out in the sticks apparently. However, there was something about her that irked Sophia and she couldn't quite figure out what it was.

Perhaps I've just inherited the prince's mistrust of doctors and nurses. She told herself, After all, the only doctor we ever needed was Christina.

She sighed again and took a step through the door, feeling a knot in her stomach as she saw the unconscious body of her sister lying on the bed. Despite the treatment she had been receiving from both magical and non-magical specialists, she looked pale and gaunt, her comatose body only able to take in nutrients supplied from the IV bag plugged into her arm. Her body remained so still that the only sign of life was from the small movements of her chest rising and falling with each breath.

"Sorry I'm late sis!" She said putting on a smile for her sister as she closed the door and took a seat next to her bed. "I have a few things to catch you up on, you'll never guess what the Prince has planned."

May 20th Unified Year 1925 09:30

Conference room 1, Offices of the General Staff, Berlun

Colonel Eric von Rerugen had always prided himself on his ability to maintain a professional demeanour, regardless of the situation. Like most war college graduates, he valued a logical approach to the rigours demanded of an officer serving in the General Staff office and a clear and cool head was vital to do the job. Although he was aware he wasn't always able to hide all his inner misgivings, especially from those he worked closely with like Rudersdorf and Zettour, generally he never had any trouble maintaining the outward impression of a model Imperial officer.

However, some days it was much more difficult to maintain that professionalism, particularly when stress-induced stomach pains threatened to overwhelm his composure. Stomach pains that only ever seemed to manifest whenever she was involved.

He spared a glance at the girl sitting directly to his left and not for the first time he marvelled at the walking contradiction that was Major Tanya von Degurechaff. If he hadn't known precisely what she was, he might have thought it odd to see the small girl perched at the desk beside him. Many had described her as like a doll dressed in the garb of a soldier and, even with the injuries she had so recently suffered marring her porcelain-like skin, she still wore her pristine uniform as though she were born into it. Or rather, as though she were created to wear it.

He had heard many observers call her cute, thinking that she were simply a child imitating the adults around her, playing dress up as a soldier. Although none who had the dubious pleasure of meeting her would make that mistake twice. Looking at her, it was easy to see why they would make such an error in judgment. Even now, her small stature prevented her feet from properly touching the ground as she sat in a chair made for someone many years senior to her. Although she was now in her early teens, she had grown very little and she looked tiny compared to her surroundings. It made her seem like a life-sized toy, a harmless plaything that should be out of place in the austere halls of the General staff offices.

Yet, Rerugan did know what she was, and although she indeed didn't belong in this place, it was not because she was not mature enough to be here, indeed she would thrive here like no other. She had a mind like a razor, able to cut through sticky problems with vicious and ruthless efficiency, and the intricacies of both strategic and tactical warfare came naturally to her. Like the other General staff officers, she used logic in the same way a surgeon would wield a scalpel, however, unlike many of their colleagues she was completely unaffected by the ethical dilemmas raised as part of the job. She felt no emotional attachment, she only cared for the cold hard facts; just as she had been trained to.

In a sense, those who had dismissed her as nothing more than a child imitating their parents hadn't been incorrect. After all, the only parent she had ever known was the military, she had learned cold calculated violence while others her age were playing dress up; she'd learned to move soldiers around a battlefield as others would play with dolls.

Perhaps that was why she lacked empathy, why her morality seemed so dreadfully skewed. He and the rest of his colleagues had needed to learn how to put their emotions aside for the good of the country, she had learned to throw them away before they even had time to form. The military had raised a most perfect daughter; that in and of itself was horrifying.

Yes, her calculating mind meant she would thrive in the General Staff offices, but she was still out of place. Her military upbringing meant her true habitat was the battlefield. There she existed as an unmatched apex predator and right now, that predator was radiating the same hateful fury she usually reserved for her prey. Rerugen couldn't help but feel uneasy, despite his hypothetical immunity from her wrath. Or perhaps because of it.

Of all the people in the General Staff, why did she ask me to represent her? I've always been her greatest detractor! He wondered internally, swallowing down his disquiet as he tore his gaze from the malevolent being at his side and back to the courtroom. Then again, even I couldn't find fault with her this time.

He shook his head and suppressed a sigh. This whole situation was ludicrous. The list of charges brought against Degurechaff by the foreign ministry weren't really charges at all, mostly just a list of grievances about her conduct during the Moscau raid, along with complaints about the impossible position her actions had put them in.

He could understand their anger, and agreed that compared to what any normal person could have expected, her actions during the attack were far too extreme and needlessly humiliated the Russy Regime. The chances of bringing them to the negotiating table for any sort of settlement was near zero after the blow to their prestige. Without some victory to present to their people, or a defeat to truly cripple them, the Federation could not afford the loss of political legitimacy. Even suggesting such a thing could be destabilising for them. However, even he could not agree that Degurechaff should be held responsible for the diplomatic mess that had been unleashed.

She had been ordered to attack military targets within Moscau in order to force the enemy to redirect some of the forces assailing the front lines. Due to the definitions the communists used to classify such things, she had seen the headquarters of their political organisations to be fair game. The General Staff agreed on this, if only because they assumed these buildings would be too well defended to even attempt a meaningful attack, let alone destroy them.

That she had gone above and beyond all expectations was something that should be lauded, even if it created a major headache for the diplomats. If there was any blame to be assigned it was with the General staff itself, himself especially. He had spoken in support of her raid and the General staff had approved it, the only fault was that everyone had underestimated what Degurechaff and her battalion were capable of and not planned accordingly for her success. Even then, the General Staff could hardly be held accountable for adhering to its raison d'être.

The military had done everything their duty demanded of them and now the emperor's appointed bureaucrats were attempting to sanction one of their most highly decorated officers because they were unable to do the same. It was a slap in the face to every Imperial officer, an attack on the honour of the Empire's Great Army itself.

And yet, some part of him really did feel as though they would be better off if Degurechaff were punished, if only for her monstrously cold-hearted attitude towards the lives of others. Better she was removed from a position where her malign influence could continue to seep into the General Staff and where she could no longer satiate her bloodlust at the front. He'd often thought it would be better to place her in an office somewhere in the ranks of the service corps. As long as she weren't in personnel where her attitude would poison others, or directly involved in war planning where her vicious nature would endanger lives, her cold logic would stand her in good stead in any of the administrative areas of the military.

No, someone like her would never accept that. He thought to himself glumly, judging by her behaviour during training she'd likely threaten her colleagues over even the slightest infraction! Turn even the quietest office into a work camp! Besides, I doubt wild horses could drag her from the front.

Or rather, that was what he would have thought until recently. After hearing from her own mouth what she planned to do at the conclusion of this hearing he wasn't sure what to think. He was certain he hadn't misjudged her, which only made her plans all the more terrifying.

He did his best to push his worries aside and turned his attention to the now nervous foreign minister sitting at the desk to his right. A large, ageing man who was sweating profusely and wearing a frown that was quite at odds with the self-assured smile he'd worn less than half an hour ago when he had been delivering his list of charges. Rerugen could understand the former, even if he couldn't understand the madness that had driven him to perform the latter.

It was becoming increasingly clear to everyone that the tribunal was heavily weighted in his and Degurechaff's favour. Before the hearing, and despite bordering on improper conduct for the judicial officer, Zettour had intimated that any objection or point he raised would be looked kindly on by the court and despite his reticence in being Degurechaff's defence council, he'd found that the old General was true to his word. Meanwhile, the usually quiet and scholarly general had barely let the minister begin speaking before berating and interrogating him on every point of his argument, leaving the poor man both confused and no doubt worried for his future. It seemed far more like he was the one on trial rather than Degurechaff.

Rerugen suspected that the only reason the case hadn't already been dismissed was the attendance of the other members of the Supreme High Command. The watchful and tired eyes of the Chancellor, Prince Adalbert, ensuring the military showed the full force of its displeasure to their superiors. They could not stand their officers being used in political games by the cabinet, not even the diplomats in the foreign office; the Chancellor would have to act after this.

He hated that it had come to this. In an ideal world, this trial would be held in the open and Degurechaff's innocence proven fairly for all to see. However, the war, troop morale and public opinion meant that no one could risk this being out in the open and the General Staff did not want this to drag on unnecessarily, there was too much risk that news of an officer being prosecuted for following orders might filter through the ranks. As such, and in a style consistent with the Generals in charge of proceedings, they planned to deal with the problematic foreign ministry with a swift and decisive blow.

All this and we haven't even called witnesses yet. He thought turning towards the small desk set up for their intended guest, struggling to keep the displeasure from his face as he watched the young boy cheerfully take his place, wincing slightly as he caught his bandaged arm on the witness box. He should put the final nail in the coffin, so why does this make me feel so uneasy?

He'd been pleased when Prince Wilhelm had offered to testify in Major von Degurechaff's defence. Although he still held some concerns about how close he was with the young Major, and the effect she might have on him, his reputation and character were unimpeachable, no one could doubt the testimony of an officer like the Saint of Letzenbourg. Add to this that he was a prince of the realm, who had not only witnessed the entire incident first-hand but was sporting injuries from recent engagements, and you had an account that couldn't be questioned.

Strangely, Degurechaff had been against it, preferring to rely on the accounts of her direct subordinates instead. Perhaps that was where his unease had been born, he could make no sense of her reluctance. However, her wishes hadn't mattered in the end, the foreign minister had called him instead.

But why call a witness that was so obviously hostile to your case? He thought, considering the possible implications of the prince's testimony. He had already interviewed the boy; he knew what he would say. His entire statement was gushing with praise for the girl, unashamedly proposing she be given multiple commendations rather than any sort of censure. He could think of nothing that would paint Degurechaff in a negative light, it would utterly torpedo what was left of the minister's case.

What if that was the plan all along? He thought sparing another suspicious glance at the girl radiating rage at his side. The Prince and the Major had spent plenty of time together before the trial, had she persuaded the impressionable young boy to give the minister a false testimony? Bait the trap by purposely refusing to have him testify on her behalf so that he would believe the prince had something unflattering to say about her?

He wouldn't put it past her. Despite the obvious bias of the trial, it was clear she was still deeply offended by the accusations brought against her and she had the right sort of personality to be both cunning and vindictive enough to use a dirty, immoral, tactic such as this. Additionally, he was certain she would have no scruples with risking the poor prince's reputation should he be found lying and the boy trusted the girl enough that she could easily convince him to take such a risk. Even if to do so was against his usual conscientious character.

He felt the pain in his stomach worsen as he tried to wrap his head around the uncertainty of this situation. He couldn't raise an objection against his own defendant, even if she was risking the prince's reputation, but he didn't much like the idea of the whole court, the General Staff even, being manipulated by her in such a way. Just how much of a hold does she have over that boy?

He would have no chance to further consider how much Degurechaff's perfidious influence had corrupted the innocent young prince however, as General Zettour brought down his gavel, bringing the room back to order.

"My apologies for the delay, we now bring this hearing back into session." He called from the front of the room, flanked by the two other officiating officers for the case, General Rudersdorf and Rerugan's former superior from personnel, Colonel von Kordel. He surveyed the room with the same quick glance that Rerugen had witnessed him use on the battle maps in the planning room, however, he didn't doubt for a second that the man had assimilated every iota of information he would need.

"Minister von Jagow, the witness is yours." He began, levelling an icy glare on the diplomat before him. "However, may I remind you that this officer, despite his youth and the question regarding his country's status in the Reich, is a prince of the realm and a member of his Imperial and Royal Majesty's family. His account is to be considered fact and we will not look kindly on anything that might question his or his family's honour. Understood?"

Rerugan felt his stomach lurch again as the minister murmured his agreement. Zettour had all but decreed that the prince's testimony would decide the trial. He too must already know what the prince would say, and that it would be favourable to Degurechaff, he wouldn't risk such a stunt otherwise. Not after all the effort he'd put in to skew the trail in her favour.

Regardless it did little to improve Rerugen's digestive distress. They were dancing along to Degurechaff's tune and it seemed that Rerugen was the only one who realised it.

"Prince Wilhelm, are you ready to begin your account?" Zettour continued, greeting the prince with a far more friendly smile than he had the prosecutor.

"Of course, your honour." The boy returned, flashing an innocuous and cheerful grin to the court, despite the obvious discomfort from his injuries. "It is important that everyone here knows the truth of the matter."

May 20th Unified Year 1925 10:40

Approach to Gen Hans von Zettour's office, General Staff offices, Berlun

"This was nothing but a waste of time! Don't they realise we have a war to fight?"

Zettour resisted the urge to smile as he listened to his friend's complaints as they strode back towards their offices and the mountain of work required for the orchestration of the latest phase of the war. Rudersdorf was infamous for his lack of patience when it came to the political aspects of their duties within the General Staff. He'd always had a clear view of what the separation between the military and civilian arms of government should look like and despised when either got involved with the other's business unnecessarily.

However, unlike his moustached friend, Zettour looked at things in a slightly more practical sense, along with a healthy sense of cynicism. Working within the service corps meant he had regular contact with the country's bureaucrats, at least those involved with supplying the war effort, and he was all too aware of the strain that the Imperial war machine had on the civilian economy and infrastructure. It was hardly surprising that certain people took an interest in how the General Staff ran things. They were lucky the majority of the government allowed them to continue relatively unmolested. Politicians were usually looking for ways to one-up one another and historically, the battlefield had been a good place to score a few extra points in that regard.

"I hear enough complaints from the finance minister to know that they realise we're at war, but sometimes I wonder if they know whose side they're on." He replied, only half joking. This latest interference from the diplomatic class had surprised even him. Not in his wildest dreams had he expected the foreign ministry to so foolishly attack Degurechaff's actions, and by extension the military itself. It was something he had found both baffling and worrisome in equal measure.

He could understand the trouble the raid had caused the foreign office, part of his duties involved understanding how their battlefield actions looked in the diplomatic realm. However, it had been an unprecedented success and had drawn precious airpower away from the front allowing the eastern forces time to reorganise and dig in. From a military standpoint, it was a perfect strategy that may well have prevented a full collapse of the front lines. It was no exaggeration that Degurechaff's raid may have saved the Empire from an embarrassing defeat.

This had all been reported to the Supreme High Command and the dire situation they had been facing was explained in great detail but they didn't seem to understand, the demand for an enquiry was proof of that. It was as though they were still acting with a pre-war way of thinking; as though they still believed the war would be quick and end with a simple exchange of lands, a handshake and a stone arch to commemorate the victory.

Perhaps that was the true reason they had been so content to let the General Staff deal with the war unmolested so far, they simply didn't understand the reality of what was happening on the front. He couldn't help wondering how the military, and the Empire itself for that matter, would fare if they did.

"That would be why he gives me those dirty looks when I smoke my good cigars during meetings." Rudersdorf chuckled as he reached into his pocket for his favourite vice. "You've told him I pay for these out of my own pocket, haven't you?"

"I haven't mentioned anything but it wouldn't surprise me if he thinks you're smoking half of the operations budget." The pair shared another soft chuckle as Rudersdorf lit his cigar, filling the corridor with thick smoke.

"How unkind of you. Perhaps we should ask Prince Wilhelm to speak to him for me instead? He made quite the case for Degurechaff." The moustached General observed with a smirk, taking a moment to study him for a reaction.

Again, Zettour stifled another smile. It amused him to think that his old friend suspected his involvement with the young boy's testimony. It proved how well the man knew him that he thought he would stoop so low to get the outcome that the General Staff needed. However, it had not been necessary. The boy had come to him.

He found himself rubbing his chin thoughtfully as he considered the young Prince. Unlike Degurechaff, he did not know the boy especially well. He had heard several reports describing his sterling reputation and that, like Degurechaff, he was exceptionally gifted for his age, writing a diplomatic thesis that predicted the outbreak of the war, but he'd had few meetings with him face to face in the past.

When the prince met with him to discuss the hearing, he had acted as kind and conscientious as he had been led to believe the boy was, wanting to do all he could to support Degurechaff while being hesitant about causing too many problems for the country's diplomats. However, it had bothered him that the boy already seemed to know exactly what to say, and when, so that he could cause the maximum amount of damage to the foreign ministry's case. He'd needed no coaching at all.

It was all very convenient and an old cynic like him couldn't help but feel suspicious. Despite what his eyes and ears told him, his instincts sensed something different about the boy, the same instincts that had led him to trust Degurechaff in the first place.

"Well, I suppose we better get back to discussing deployments." Rudersdorf continued, sensing that he would gain nothing from Zettour on the matter of the young prince for the moment. "Now that we've finished the operations in the North, we can focus on the coming counteroffensive in the East. All that's needed is to decide where to concentrate our forces. And where to use our trump cards."

Zettour watched the cogs turn in his friend's eyes and felt himself smile. He was already concocting another big play he was sure of it, but then Rudersdorf had always been the sort of fighter to follow one punch with a stronger one. It was how he'd faced every problem in his life.

"And they call me a slave driver." Zettour replied, shaking his head at the man's words. "I think it best we show some consideration when deciding where to send Degurechaff next, at least for now. We've put her and her troops through quite a lot of trouble of late."

"Are you sure she'll agree?" The moustached General observed, gesturing his cigar at the trio of officers waiting further down the corridor, at the entrance to his office. "It seems she might have other ideas."

Zettour regarded the group with a raised eyebrow. Despite the pristinely kept uniforms, they made for a peculiar sight. He had expected to see Colonel Von Rerugen and often invited him to join their meetings. He trusted the man's opinions on several subjects and was certain he'd go far in the General staff. He also liked that despite usually being so taciturn, he could read just enough of the man to judge his inner thoughts. It made him honest and Zettour liked to use him to gauge how much the men would accept. What was unusual was how uncomfortable he seemed at this moment, especially since he towered over the two officers next to him.

His glance slipped downward to the familiar young girl beside him, standing stone-faced and at perfect attention as they approached, her cap held firmly under her arm, along with a bundle of documents. He had to confess feeling a slight twitch of excitement seeing her here despite her unexpected presence. She always seemed to provide interesting and fresh insight into the problems of the day and he couldn't help but wonder what her gifted mind had already come up with. Perhaps that was why she was there, perhaps Ruddersorf had been right and she had already chosen her next deployment. Maybe the other Generals were right to nickname her his hunting dog.

Finally, his eyes slid to the last little officer, who stood a respectful step back from his superiors while wearing a friendly and welcoming smile quite at odds with the two officers next to him. Prince Wilhelm had reputedly developed a habit of sticking close to Degrechaff since being assigned to her battalion, giving rise to the unflattering nickname of "Silver's puppy" amongst those foolish enough to speak badly about the boy. His loyalty to her was unquestionable however, yet once again Zettour sensed something amiss about his assessment of the little prince.

As if sensing his gaze, the Prince's smile widened slightly, confirming what Zettour was already beginning to suspect. As the man who had tricked an entire nation with Operation Revolving Door, he knew a con when he saw one. The question now was, who was the mark?

"Gentlemen, Major." He greeted them, waving away their salutes. "We were about to discuss your deployment, perhaps you have some suggestions."

"Thank you General." Dergurechaff returned in a cold tone that left little room for pleasantries. "I came here for that very reason."

Zettour bid them enter his office and make themselves comfortable at the sofas by the coffee table he habitually used for informal meetings such as this. As usual, Rudersdorf eschewed the offer of a chair and chose to stand by the fireplace, while Colonel Rerugen took his usual sofa where he could see both Generals. Meanwhile, as Zettour eased into his leather chair he kept at the table head, Degurechaff took a place in the chair opposite him fixing him with an unreadable stare as she waited for him to begin the meeting. He found himself smiling, even in an informal setting like this, she still acted like the perfect soldier.

Finally, the Prince found himself somewhere to make himself comfortable, however, to his surprise it was not at the table with the rest of them. Instead, he took up a perch on a cabinet near the corner, far behind Degurechaff, and Zettour couldn't help but feel another pang of unease.

Disrespect to his superiors' aside, his placement was not that of someone who planned to join in with the meeting, it was one where he could observe. As if sensing his discomfort, the Prince flashed him a bright, friendly smile once again. However, this time it only served to increase the feeling rather than assuage it.

"Sirs." Rerugen began carefully, bringing Zettour's attention back to the meeting at hand. He seemed ill at ease, even more so than he usually was around the young major, and he could see the tell-tale signs that something was weighing his mind. It was enough to make Zettour's own enthusiasm sour a little as he wondered what had upset him so. "I apologise for bringing Major Degurechaff to this meeting uninvited but…well perhaps it is better I leave her to explain."

Ah, so she is upset about the hearing. He thought with a groan, it was understandable, no officer liked to be caught in the crossfire of politics above their pay grade. She likely wanted a chance to vent her frustration before they moved on to more important matters. This was usually something he could leave to Rerugen but considering all that had happened it was probably better he handle it himself this time.

"Yes sir." The girl began taking her file from her lap and passing a piece of paper along the table. "I have taken the liberty of drawing up papers for my transfer."

Zettour blinked, wondering if he'd misheard her. A transfer? After all the trouble she'd put her through during its formation? Not to mention the number of complaints at even the slightest hint of separating the unit. She wanted to transfer away from her 203rd?

He took the paper and scanned it quickly with a trained eye, feeling his blood run cold with confusion, then anger as he read it. She didn't simply want to transfer to a different combat unit, she wanted to transfer away from the front lines completely! In wartime! Right after arguably the worst invasion the Empire had ever experienced! The Devil of the Rhine wanted to abandon her post!

He sat, stunned for a moment as Rudersdorf took the paper from his hand. Fortunately, his old friend would save him from voicing his feelings as the old attack dog reacted to the news as quickly as ever.

"Coward!" He roared bringing a fist down on the mantle, not hiding even a spec of disdain in his voice as he spoke the words Zettour longed to say himself. "You would flee as your comrades fight and die at the front!?Abandon your Duty to the Vaterlad?"

His own feelings echoed his friend's but could Degurechaff really be called a coward? She had won the silver wings with oak leaves for valour, she had led men on missions that would be considered suicidal for most and come back with results that far outstripped all expectations. By any measure she was a hero who had always thrived on the battlefield, what could have changed?

He studied the girl carefully, feeling a strange yet familiar discomfort as he processed the difference between his eyes seeing the sweet little girl and his mind observing the ruthless soldier he knew her to be. She seemed unmoved by Rudersdorf's enraged outburst, if anything, she seemed almost perplexed by it. She had delivered the request so matter-of-factly; as though she was a child asking for a snack before dinner but not understanding why her parents had refused her. Did she truly not see the problem with a transfer request like this during wartime?

"I have no intention of abandoning my duty, General." The girl continued calmly, not even a sliver of emotion showing on her face or in her tone. "Due to personal reasons, I feel that it would be better for me to perform it away from the front lines."

There was a snigger from the corner of the room, quiet enough that it was likely missed by the others, especially in the wake of Rudersdorf's tirade. A glance revealed the prince ignoring the scene at hand, instead finding a sudden interest in a globe sat on one of the bookshelves. Yet it was clear to Zettour this was an act. He had known this is what Degurechaff had been planning, although whether she had told him or if he had guessed her intentions he couldn't be sure. The question was; what did he plan to do with that information?

"Speak freely, Major." He cut in before his friend could berate her further, forcing his voice to be calm. He had a suspicion there was more to this than initially met the eye. "Consider this an informal meeting. Why would a highly decorated combat veteran like you want to avoid the forward-most lines?"

He caught sight of Rerugen's eyes widening in surprise from the corner of his vision. From his earlier discomfort, he could conclude that he too had been informed of the young major's request and had likely expected the reaction from Rudersdorf. He hadn't expected his own calm response however, although Zettour could hardly blame him for that.

"To be frank sirs, it is clear my superiors do not trust me to adequately obey orders." The girl commented, allowing a level of cold frustration to enter her voice for the first time. "I was ordered to attack the Federation capital, I obeyed, yet an enquiry was opened against me. I can only assume my ability to command has been called into question."

Zettour stared at her in disbelief, surely after that farce of a trial she didn't believe they doubted her judgment? He studied for a moment but could find no sign of dishonesty, she really did feel as though she had lost the trust of her superiors.

"Major, although unfortunate, this incident hasn't−" He began trying to take a conciliatory tone but was quickly interrupted as Degurechaff pressed on.

"And this isn't the first time, there was the enquiry regarding the Albion submarine after the fall of the Entente and the false charges levelled against me by Vice Admiral Canaris." She continued, her eyes turning cold as she aired her grievances. "At this point I feel that if even one officer doubts any of my military actions, then perhaps I lack the aptitude to serve in operations."

He heard an intake of breath from the boy in the corner as he prepared to interject, it seemed even he was surprised by her declaration that she lacked the talent for front line service. However, the Major shot a quick glance his way and he remained silent. Meanwhile Zettour stared at her dumbly. It was an absolutely ludicrous thing to say, no one who had seen her record could possibly make such a claim. Yet Degurechaff seemed absolutely convinced; she truly believed what she was saying.

Still, it was difficult to argue with the girl's words from a logical perspective. He could see why it might seem as though she were under constant scrutiny and it was understandable why she would be so frustrated by the foreign ministry's attempt to make her a scapegoat. However, compared with the rest of the army, she'd been given an immense amount of freedom and barely any oversight. Additionally, the General Staff would always protect her from any political fallout from her actions, they'd proven that over and over again.

This feels almost like a child having a tantrum and screaming that it isn't fair she can't have both cake and ice cream. He found himself thinking before catching himself. She was still a child. As clever and skilled as she was, she was still young enough that she should still be in school.

And you want to send her back out to the battlefield. He reminded himself, feeling a familiar pang of shame before supressing it once again. But what choice do I have? She is one of the most effective weapons we have.

"So not only do you wish to avoid combat in the East, you want to avoid the fighting in the South and West too?!" Rudersdorf growled, sounding like an enraged bear, cutting his thoughts short. "We have a war to fight! Are you really so quick to shirk your duties?"

"Again, General. I have no desire to abandon my duties; simply perform them in a different capacity. And I don't see how being stationed on another front would solve the original problem." She continued, her voice returning to the level and professional tone she usually adopted. As always, the childlike voice sat strangely juxtaposed to the content and intonation of the words. "As to my replacement, I would suggest Captain Weiss, he may still be comparatively green but I believe bringing in anyone from the outside would compromise the Battalion's performance."

Zettour set his mind to quickly explore the possibilities. Allowing Degurechaff to retire to the rear was unworkable at this juncture. She was too valuable as a field commander, too good at reading both the tactical and strategic situation, even in the heat of combat; not to mention the intentions of her superiors. Her reports may have always painted Captain Weiss in a positive light, at least after some initial hiccups, but he couldn't hold a candle to her. Despite her young age, Degurechaff had far too much combat experience to be transferred to a position in the rear. At least permanently.

He glanced back towards the corner and caught Prince Wilhelm smiling in his direction and once again wondered quite how he fit into all of this. However, without more information, he was forced to press on regardless.

"I will consider your request Major." He replied thoughtfully, causing his moustached colleague to choke in surprise, while Rerugen stared at him in bewilderment. "But I would like your opinion on a few things first."

"Of course, sir." She replied, a hint of pride reaching her voice as she somehow managed to find a way to sit even straighter in her chair. "I'm honoured you value my opinion."

"First, assuming we retake all our territory, do you believe an early peace with the Federation is possible?" Zettour asked, leaning forward in his chair and bringing his hands together in an arch in front of him.

"Out of the question sir, I think it's pointless to even consider it." She replied immediately, eliciting another almost imperceivable snigger from the corner. Zettour ignored it.

"And why is that?" He asked with a raised eyebrow, interested to finally hear what she might have made of the whole situation.

"Because there is no logical reason for the Federation to have started this war in the first place, at least none that we know of." She began, bringing her hand to her chin thoughtfully. "That means we cannot negotiate under the current paradigm; we have no concept of what the enemy wants to gain or what we have to negotiate with."

"Some of our colleagues think that if we turn away the initial attacks, they may be willing to come back to the table." He continued, injecting a note of optimism into his voice but Degurechaff shook her head before continuing doubtfully.

"A cease-fire would be death to the Federation, their flawed political system means their government cannot readily accept failure. They will continue to fight for the foreseeable future."

Zettour nodded, he had come to a similar conclusion despite some optimism from his colleagues. Still, he had hoped that he might have been mistaken on that front, a protracted war with the Federation was not something he could see either side benefiting from.

He glanced at the prince in the corner once again, wondering if he might gain some further insight into what he was thinking. But he was surprised to see that rather than pretending to flick through his books or otherwise hiding that he was listening in, he was staring at Degurechaff with undisguised admiration. It was clear he not only agreed with her assessment, but was also pleased that they shared the same conclusion.

"You do not think that you're raid on Moscau made negotiations impossible due to loss of face, as the foreign minister did?" He continued carefully. It wouldn't hurt to remind her that the General Staff had just done a great deal to aid her.

"No sir."

This time the young Major's response elicited a loud, derisive scoff from the corner that no one could ignore. However, by the time all in the room had turned towards its source, the young prince had returned to studying a book on Mark Antony, and Caesar and the lead up to the roman civil war, acting as though the outburst had never happened. He wondered if his choice of literature was deliberate and what his thoughts on the future might be.

"Since there is no logical reason for the Federation to attack us, we can only assume that the motivation for such was fear." She continued, reluctantly pulling her gaze back from the young prince. "With this in mind, it's clear that no subsequent attack would affect their rationale for continuing to fight. Not while this fear persists. In fact, it only increases the chances it will escalate further."

"If fear is the motivator, then why didn't they attack while we were tied up on the Rhine? When we were weakest?" Rudersdorf cut in, fist still clenched with frustration. Meanwhile, Zettour allowed himself a moment to study the prince once more. Although he was still pretending not to be listening to the conversation, his face had contorted into a frown as he processed her words. If Zettour was to judge, he would guess he agreed with her on this point, although he clearly wasn't happy about it. On that at least, he could find some common ground with the boy.

"Fear is precisely why they didn't attack when we fought the Francois, and why they had to attack once they fell." She explained, the smallest hint of a despondent smile reaching her lips. "While we fought the Republic, their fear allowed them the luxury to sit and wait at the sidelines. Much like the Allied Kingdom did for most of the Western conflict. No matter who won, they would not like the shift in the balance of power but they didn't have to decide what to do about it at that time. However, since Revolving Door led to such a hasty collapse of the Republic, they faced with an even more powerful Empire on their doorstep. Since they were acting on irrational fear, they chose to attack regardless of the consequences."

"I think you wrote something similar in your paper didn't you Wilhelm?" She turned back towards the little prince, flashing him a strange smile as some unsaid message passed between the two. The prince managed to return the gesture, his lips curling politely, however, his eyes sent a different message, one that Zettour was not able to fully decipher.

He decided to push that mystery aside for the moment and focus on the issue at hand. He wasn't sure if he completely agreed that the raid didn't have any bearing on the possibility of negotiations but the rest of Degurechaff's observations seemed sound, even echoing some of his own fears; especially those about the war escalating further. Degurechaff's predictions that this war would eventually engulf the world had haunted his sleep for some time and it seemed every day that passed brought them closer to that unthinkable reality.

"One final question Major." Deciding it was finally time to give words to some of the other concerns he had about the unfolding war in the East. "Given that the 203rd was formed to act as a quick response unit, and taking into account both the current threats we face from the Federation and the possibility of the war expanding further. Do you believe the 203rd will still be capable of this role?"

He watched as the Major blinked with surprise, obviously not expecting the sudden shift in questioning. However, she quickly rallied and her expression became distant and thoughtful as she considered his words before finally, she began to speak once more.

"It is my belief they would still be effective in strikes at specific targets such as command posts and enemy headquarters, although such strikes are likely to become more difficult as the enemy learns our tricks." She began, starting slowly but soon speeding up as her confidence in her words grew. "However, I believe broader strategic and battlefield effect will be extremely limited, especially in the East. The front is too large for such a small force, even elite mages such as mine, to have a significant effect in the large-scale manoeuvre battles we expect in that theatre."

"And how would you overcome this problem?"

Again, she blinked with a moment of confusion before turning serious once again as she became lost in thought. This was why Zettour liked talking to Degurechaff, you could feed her problems and she would immediately start to work through them, churning out potential solutions like a machine. He could almost see the cogs in her head turning as she worked on an answer.

"Perhaps some combined arms unit? With mages and armoured units at its core." She said distantly, still considering the pros and cons of the idea. "It would need to be an ad-hoc arrangement though, brought together quickly for certain situations."

"Interesting." Rudersdorf murmured, echoing Zettour's own thoughts as he broke his gaze from the girl, leant back in his chair and looked up at the ceiling thoughtfully. It was certainly an intriguing idea, one that deserved looking into, but was it something he could use to soothe the temper tantrum of Rusted Silver?

They couldn't let a young talented field officer return to the rear permanently, not with the war hotting up. However, with the initial Federation advance blunted and the Grand Army making its way east, they had some time to reorganise the forces that had been deployed elsewhere. A temporary stay, one to research her new idea, was something he could sanction. And something that a mad dog like Degurechaff could sink her teeth into.

"Very well, your troops are well overdue for leave anyway." He declared, getting to his feet and strolling towards the window before either Rudersdorf or Rerugen could voice an objection. "I'll give you two months, by then I expect a fully written proposal for this mage-driven combined arms force. You are dismissed, Major."

"Thank you, sir!" The girl replied, sounding neither pleased nor displeased as Zettour glimpsed her reflection get to her feet and salute smartly before turning to leave the room. She had almost reached the door before she paused to stare at the prince once again, gesturing with her head for him to follow, however, the boy simply smiled at her and got to his feet before adding.

"I'll catch up with you later Major, I have something to ask the Generals myself."

He caught a brief and uncharacteristic moment of panic from the Argent as the boy strode towards the rest of the officers, and for a moment it looked as though she might turn back. However, she soon thought better of it and quietly exited his office.

"Are you sure about−" Rudersdorf began but Zettour raised a hand to quiet him, they could argue about his decision later, once the prince was out of the way.

"Your Highness, what can we do for you?" He said politely, turning away from the window and meeting the smiling boy's gaze.

"I was hoping you'd had the chance to take a look at my proposal. The one utilising the François tactics."

Zettour felt his blood run momentarily cold, unable to stop himself as he glanced towards Rudersdorf. He seemed similarly affected by the boy's words, looking slightly pale as he no doubt contemplated the prospect of a possible leak in the General Staff offices. Impossible! Hardly anyone has even seen those plans! How could he have known about them?

"I believe His Highness is referring to the proposal to adopt the François tactic of dedicated mage-killing units." Rerugen interjected quickly, clearly sensing the confusion, and Zettour let out a breath that he hadn't realised he had been holding. "The ones encountered by Major Degurechaff during her first tenure on the Rhine."

"Yes of course." Zettour replied as he inwardly cursed his foolishness for jumping to conclusions. He seemed to recall seeing the boy's request slide across his desk but there had been little time to consider it between everything else.

"I'd like to volunteer my close combat company for the task." The boy continued, raising a questioning eyebrow at the Generals' reactions, but it seemed he was savvy enough not to ask any questions. "We've just been stood down with the rest of Ta…Major Degurechaff's troops but we're technically an independent unit leaving us free. Deploying us as mage killers should help maintain the advantage in mage numbers in the East. At least, for a little longer."

Zettour took a moment to consider the boy's words. It was true that the mage disparity was one of the few solid advantages they had in the East. Despite their successes across the front, there was little for those in the General Staff to be optimistic about when they looked at the long-term state of the eastern battlefields. They were confident that they could force the enemy to give ground but even with the Grand Army and with the atrocious casualties suffered by the Federation, Imperial forces were still outnumbered by a significant margin. Additionally, their best estimates suggested a nearly two-to-one disparity in both tanks and artillery, although since Tiegenhoff the numbers of both were being revised. In the air, the battle seemed to be even.

If not for the clear superiority they had in magecraft, things would be very dire indeed, however, he was all too aware that they couldn't rely wholly on their aerial mages to bring victory. Especially when the Allied Kingdom was already deploying their own magic users to make up for their communist ally's deficiencies.

Deploying a dedicated unit to help keep their numbers down could go some way towards maintaining their advantage. Usually such an idea would be unworkable due to the plethora of other tasks the Empire used its magic users for, even pulling a company from elsewhere for the task would normally cause major headaches for local commanders. However, as the prince had so eloquently pointed out, his company had now found itself with nothing to do and officially it was not part of the 203rd so could be deployed separately to their parent unit.

Still, he felt slightly apprehensive about the proposal. Perhaps it had been his observations of the boy that made him overly suspicious but he felt as though he weren't seeing the entire picture. Then, there was the fact that they had been trying to persuade the boy to forfeit his combat duties since he joined the military, this would involve throwing away their best chance to achieve.

"I could certainly use some mages to cull the enemy numbers." Rudersdorf interjected with a puff of smoke. "All of your troops are veterans and letting two aces retreat to the rear is just wasteful. What do you say Hans? I'm for the idea!"

Zettour raised an eyebrow at his friend, unsure whether he truly didn't care if they sent the boy back to the front against the wishes of the royal family or if this was simply some petty revenge for robbing him of the chance to use Degurechaff's battalion in whatever operation he was planning next. Likely both, he had never liked waste and could be extremely petty at times.

Zettour still had his doubts, however. He couldn't help but feel as though he were being played and he hated to think that he was dancing to someone else's tune.

"Captain. I'd like your opinion on Degurechaff's assessment of the war situation and chances of possible negotiation." He began carefully, using his military rank rather than his social title as he studied the boy's reactions. "Do you agree with her?"

The boy's near perpetual smile shifted slightly as he met Zettour's gaze, however this time he could see a hint of the earlier admiration he'd seen when the prince had been looking at Degurechaff, along with a hint of sly cunning in his eyes. He'd been right to think there was more to the young prince than his saintly reputation suggested, the question was, how much of his behaviour was a front? Once more, the glimmer of playful understanding in the boy's eyes told him that he knew Zettour had figured this out but he did not seem threatened by this fact. If anything, he seemed pleased.

"Lady Degurechaff's assessment is almost perfect as always." He began, his tone brimming with adoration for the young Major but now that Zettour had peeked behind the prince's mask, he found himself searching for meaning behind every syllable. "She's very good at that sort of thinking, I've learned a lot from her."

"Almost perfect?" Rerugen interjected, sounding almost hopeful as he joined the conversation.

"Indeed Colonel. She overestimated how fragile their political system is. Had the Major been less enthusiastic with her raid, the Russy would be at the table the moment we pushed them back to their borders." He continued with a sigh as he returned to the globe in the corner and began spinning it idly. "They would tell their people that traitors had infected the military and forced them into war while the brave Comrade Dzhugashvili did all he could to halt hostilities and bring our nations back to peace."

The squeak from the spinning globe filed the room as the officers watched the boy expectantly.

"They'd believe it too! Their propaganda people are much better than ours and I'm told that people who speak out against them have a bad habit of disappearing." He stopped the globe over the Europa and let out another sigh. "All we would need to do is accept status quo ante bellum and the war in the east would be over, at least for a year or so while they licked their wounds. Not that any of that matters anymore."

"Major Degurechaff mentioned fear motivated the attack." Rerugen cut in, still looking hopeful that the Prince could see some end to this mess that none of the others present could even dream of. "Surely that would keep them in the fight, just as it does now?"

"It's true that fear is a powerful motivator." The boy conceded, his voice sounding strangely distant for a moment. "But fear of loss is what drives people to act more than anything. The raid robbed them of that, it confirmed what they already feared. That we want to destroy their regime."

Zettour watched the boy as silence filled the room for a moment, no longer able to read any meaning behind his expression before suddenly the smile reappeared on his face and he continued as though nothing had happened. "In the medium term, negotiations are likely though, especially if we offer the olive branch. The closer we make it to Moscau, the better the terms will be, as long as you do a decent job occupying what you take. You'll probably have more problem with —."

"For God's sake Hans! Stop bullying your officers into thinking up strategies for you and do it yourself!" Rudersdorf interrupted sharply, clearly growing impatient with his questioning. He never did have the patience for this sort of thing. He thought with a sigh, realising he would get no more answers today. "We have a war to fight! Are you going to let the lad go or not?!"

"Very well, you and your company are now detached from the 203rd and put under the command of the General Staff." He replied leaning back in his chair. "As the enemy deploy more mages, we may need to rethink this but for now you better get packing. Do you have any ideas how you'll hunt them down?"

"Thank you, sir, and yes I have a few ideas." The boy bowed wearing a wide grin. "I plan to use Project Shroud."

Zettour raised another questioning eyebrow. Much like with Doctor von Schugel's V-1 rockets, Project Shroud had found limited use outside its initial deployment. Both needed a lot more thought and skill to use effectively, and Shroud conferred many disadvantages to its users when it came to its unique form of jamming. Most commanders preferred not to use them for this reason, it would be interesting to see what the prince planned to do with it.

"Good!" Rudersdorf cut in once again, distracting him from his thoughts. "But it wouldn't be proper for a mere Captain to be detached from Eastern Command like that, we'll have to promote you."

For the first time the prince seemed genuinely surprised, perhaps even a little panicked by the moustached man's words, causing Zettour to furrow his brow further as he wondered on the reason behind it.

"Thank you, sirs, but that won't be necessary. I would prefer to stay a Captain if possible." The boy replied quickly, struggling to mask his embarrassment over such a strange request. "You see that rank was a gift."

For the first time Zettour saw what he thought was a genuine smile from the boy.

"In fact, it's the only gift she's ever given me."

Author's notes

I'm uploading two chapters at once this time so I'll leave the notes until next chapter.