[Roskana] An office in Auran

[VoxApocrypha]

Continued in: "Winter of Sorrow"

FAILING FOUNDATION, ACT 1

---

1935, Sablien

---

Office of the Governor of the state of Auran
Apollo Virgon Adashenko
12:00 AM 

 Mismanagement. 
To call what had taken place in the last twenty years anything short of mismanagement would be a categorical lie. 
As Governor of the state of Auran, and Director of the District of Auranopolis, the Festria's experience in three decades of Republican governance had put him in a unique experience where he was well acquainted with the failings of the government he worked for. The system had been built on a foundation of lies, brought to life by a failure of another system that'd been brought down by arrogance and foolishness. This one now seemed poised to repeat those mistakes in all due likelihood. He stared down at the papers in front of him, and wondered if in some sense, this was a hint as to how soon that might actually happen, or if he was assigning meaning to something where none perhaps existed. 

 The papers in front of him were for the Winter festival. He was expected to sign off on it, by both the President and Vice President, and then as well, the many members of the Republika Roskana party of which used the festival as a means of garnering support, among the many other things it was used for. In a perfect world, the funding that he was being asked to divert to it, or perhaps to 'appropriate' would be a better word - that would be going to the war effort, not the massive overhead this thing had. It provided short term economic benefit and drew from the budget and would mean another two months of raised taxes, that he'd have to fight to then lower, and remove, as he had done for seven years straight to this point. 

 The red panda held the pen in his hand, slowly tilting it back and forth with his index finger, a little bit of ink dripping off of its tip, falling into a puddle on the desk by the candlelight. A brown out had hit the city, rare before but now they were becoming more common as resources were being diverted elsewhere. That was probably the biggest change that this government had made in seasons to fight the war they'd allowed to happen. He had limited experience in governance before the Overthrow, but for at least a bit of time before then, he had been a Tsarist ruler. This was known, and one of the biggest points against him used by Social Liberals and the current party's more hardline elements. His view was centered on pragmatism and the appropriate use of resources, at least when it came to finance. 

 Celebrations in the era of the Tsar were usually rather spartan in terms of money, often done on low budgets and necessitated creativity and a effort to appeal to communal spirit in a way that engendered pride. This, felt like a vanity festival. Wasting money taxed from people who barely made more, if not actually less, than they would have under the last Tsar, nonetheless any Tsar before them. For a long, long time, he had heard stories from his parents about the virtue of previous Tsars before the final one, and the overthrow. The prosperity of Roskana before the nation was cut into three, technically four successor states trying to carve their own paths and riding the dying wings of a phoenix. 

 And here he was, being asked to waste money on the ashes left in the carrion vulture's wake. 
His contempt for this government had had decades to grow. 

 He'd felt his mind be slowly pulled back out of his own thoughts as the clock hit 12. The ding made him turn his head towards it. He watched the light above his head flicker to life, the incandescent bulb starting to burn again as electricity surged through the filament. He'd look back at the paper. He had his own party obligations to be concerned with. Head of the snake, the Ultrantionalist movement. Though officially that was someone else, Apollo's disdain for the current system and the stagnation had led him to clandestinely found the movement in the years after the 1910 Election Fiasco, and his involvement was not secret - the only reason it had not led him to be ousted was his popularity among the voters of Auran for constantly working to keep taxes manageable and lower, rather than the highs people in the upper echelons of government consistently tried to set.

 He was not a proponent for Democratization. He did not frankly believe in democracy. 
He hadn't opposed it prior because the Tsar had to be deposed. He was too much of a liability, a danger, a fool hellbent on personal achievement and enrichment above the welfare of the state that he'd been charged with protecting. But he did believe in personal liberty, in so much as the people being free to pursue their own path to happiness. He and the Tsar again stood apart on that. But this new government, said to be committed to the values of freedom, had demonstrated it was far from that. 

 Again and again, inalienable liberties held since before the time of even the old Tsars were constantly put to the pen, rather than the sword, with the march of voter tyranny inching them closer to the same problems as before. Now with this war, they faced either the destruction of the system from the outside, and likely with it the end of Roskana as a nation fundamentally anyway at the hands of Galra, or the collapse of the system under the weight of bureaucracy, and SU victory regardless, unless something changed. 

 It just didn't seem that there was any immediate option to prevent it. 
He looked at the paper again. The waste of money on his desk would be at his feet if he allowed this blatant act of thievery to go through. Once the President returned from the Strategic Planning Meeting, and the Justice from Amnity's School of Law, he'd deal with them then. He set his pen back on its stand, and wiped the ink with a napkin from the box on the edge of his desk, before he'd shuffle the papers, and then tear them up. One by one, neatly, down the center. Then, he'd throw them into the waste bin, and stand up. 

 He'd been at this too long. 
With a party meeting to attend tomorrow, he had other things to do, and it'd still be some time before anyone in control cared to check in on the status of those papers. 
He closed the door to his office, and locked it. The desk outside where his secretary would usually sit was empty, just a couple of their nick-nacks left over from the work day. He walked around the back, and opened one of her drawers, gently pushing them into it with his hand before he'd close it, and push her seat back in. 

 The police officer on guard in the Lobby would nod his head to him in respect as he passed, and Apollo would nod back. "Good morning." He told them. The cop checked his wrist watch. "Morning, Governor-Director." They'd reply, as the red panda left the building behind and continued on his way to the car outside. 

---

 The drive home had been an uneventful and short one, the roads mostly empty this time of night. Once he made it to his bedroom, he took his hat off, his glasses, and discarded his jacket. His shoes came off next, and he found himself unable to stand for particularly long before he would be on his bed, the tired man laying in a heap on his bed. He lived alone, house empty of much of value, his valuables kept hidden away and in mostly gold. He didn't feel much desire for material wealth, beyond his collection of firearms, his bedding, and a series of films and his film player. They were all he had that was truly valuable to him, aside from decent furniture that could be bought by a middle class family. His home was modest too, located in a suburb of Auran rather than in a gated community, though he had taken care to pick a house that would be as nondescript as it came. 

 He valued his anonymity outside of work. 
Many people were out there looking to do him harm, perhaps not physically, but reputationally. His image mattered. Especially if he intended to force the government out. 
Part of why his office was nothing but locked file cabinets and black boxes, atop of his home office being nothing but locked cases too. There were plenty of things that no one needed to see in his office. 

 The red panda stretched his legs on his large bed, and slowly passed into unconsciousness, not even bothering to undress, shower, clean up. He'd do it in the morning before the Party Summit. 

---

Office of the Vice President of the Greater Republic of Roskana
Andrew Hangtrem
11:00 PM

 Andrew sat next to the hospital bed, his son laying under the sheets. His bloodshot eyes stared blankly at the dead ones of his only child. Jackson lay still. 
No more tears came. He was wrung dry. Yet the emotion lay beneath his deadpan features, long since back behind the stoic walls he had built but they were barely strong enough to hold back the tide that would rise every so often and threaten to push him back to sobs again. 

 His wife had died in the West. Killed during a Grinvelian bombing raid. 
Now his only son. Dead. Not at the hands of their enemy. 
He had been taken by his cancer. What treatments they had put him on had not worked. 
In part a failure of the same infrastructure that he had failed to expand on. 
Now he was reaping the reward. 

 His mind wandered, going back and forth on if this could have been prevented. His role in it. 
This was a pain unlike any other, crushing weight on the soul that felt as though he'd been put under a million-ton press. 

Why did it have to be him? 
He was barely twenty years old. He had a whole life ahead of him.. and it couldn't have taken the life of his old man instead. 
Andrew had lived a life worth living. His son hadn't even gotten the chance. That thought ran through his head again as he watched them wheel his son out of the room. 

[VoxApocrypha]

FAILING FOUNDATION, ACT 1

---

1935, Sablien

---

Several Days Later
Samantha Dejanus
8:00 AM

 "This latest report is disturbing, how accurate is it?" The feline woman asked. She had dark, nearly black fur with white stripes and underbelly, her hair cut short. Her yellow eyes slowly ran back down over the paragraphs pertaining to the exchange of chemical weaponry in Marrlan's capital, and the apparent escalation in hostilities to the south. 

 "Our intel is accurate. Sources reported that thousands were dead within minutes, we think right now that death toll is somewhere around one hundred thousand, but that's just an estimate itself. We do know the weapons were used there. By Marrlan, first." He would say, the human man in a black uniform going back over the copy he held in his hands. "Gaelic and Marrish troops. We believe that by the end of this season Harbaville is going to fall, and Termingrad is faring no better as of this moment." He'd say. 

 "What do you believe the cause of that is, Jake?" She'd ask the man, taking a sip from her cup of coffee. 

 "Marrlan deploying so many troops overseas for starters. The worst part would be them just leaving the troops there to subsist on the locals." He'd say. "If they had those troops before I think they'd have been able to stand a little firmer. I don't know if that would have changed the outcome of the conflict as it stands, aside from taking it another season or two to reach this point maybe. The technology gap is susbtantial too. It seems whoever's leading the Grinvelians on that front, a man named Mueller, he's much less restrained than Fiegler is. I imagine by now we would have been hit with a gas attack if Fiegler were made of similar stuff to Mueller, Ouhred would be in Grinvelian control by now." 

"I guess it's a good thing we aren't dealing with him then." Sam said. "..Thank you, Jake. You are dismissed. Serve with Honor." She'd say, before sending him away. He brought his fist to his chest in salute, and turned to leave her office. Samantha let out a heavy sigh, and closed her eyes as she set the paper down. The situation continued to deteriorate in Reseria. And it seemed that it'd only be getting much worse before it ever got better. They'd soon be running on borrowed time if they were not already. 

 Chief of Staff of the Army, she had so much power at her finger tips, needing merely the stroke of a pen. And yet despite that, she felt weak. Trapped between the responsibility she bore to her nation, to defend it from any aggressor, and the weakness of a government of bureaucrats and corrupt thieves at the very top, who had only recently begun to take the situation seriously now that the fighting had gotten so much closer to home. She was not alone in that sentiment. The navy and air force were in a similar boat, though Chief of Staff of the Navy, Jackus Rodan, was more apathetic. The Air Force's CoS was firmly in the camp that the government had all but failed in their duties, but hadn't voiced this to anyone but them. 

 She had said nothing herself, beyond uttering agreement to Jackus and the Air Force CoS Mander Etran. 
Dissatisfaction had run deep for a long time. Their government was trying to ration its support, failing to recognize the opportunity they had in Grinvel, and as well, afraid of the backlash from a declaration of total war. Even when the existence of their people as a whole was on the line at that. Voices spoke of Galra's goals, speculating and spinning stories of atrocity. She didn't know how much of it was true, because their intelligence network didn't cover that far. But she knew Galrans were batshit crazy. They were fighting everyone and somehow winning. They had better weapons, vehicles, technology. 

They hadn't come to fight them themselves yet, but they knew Gaelia was neck deep in the shit, and reports coming from them were enough to tell that this war was going against them. 

She wanted a miracle. But it seemed unlikely they'd get one, not in Roskana with the current government, and not with this selection of allies either, she thought. They had no real friends beyond SATO. And their one capable friend who did not need to cross the ocean to reach them had instead thrown all of their men and manpower away across that same expanse. Hopefully, come the turn of the season, they'd actually be able to outfit the next wave of reinforcements for a meaningful counter-offensive. Many of these responsibilities should have been delegated, but the army war college had only recently begun training a new round of proper enlisted officers to fill in the gaps. She had to do the planning, in a expanding military of such a scale, and it was exhausting. The other Chiefs felt the strain too. Everyone was getting closer to what might be perhaps the breaking point.

 Something had to give.
In the back of her mind, she knew it was a wonder this government hadn't devolved into dictatorship already.

---

Later That Day
11:00 AM

 Samantha sat down at her desk, and had merely but a tiny mountain of reports and paperwork to sort through and read this time, rather than the typical massive scale. She'd be in the midst of it, when her Secretary would open the door, holding an envelop. "This came in a moment ago, priority mail. From the Governor's Office. Sent just today too." 

She would take it from his hand and then nod. "Thank you." 

Using a letter opener, she cut the envelop open. 

Office of the Governor of Auranopolis
From: Apollo Adashenko
To: Samantha Dejanus

 Hello Sam, I know it has been some time since we last met for tea. 
But I wanted to invite you to my office, to share a glass and have a productive conversation while we do.
There is a sensitive topic of which I feel we need to discuss.

Please be in my office at 9:00 AM, the day after this letter reaches you.
Remember, make sure no 'flies' have made it in with you. You know how pesky they can be.

A. Adashenko

 She would pocket the letter, and then toss the envelop in the trash. She'd stand up, and make her way to the door. 
"Secretary, clear my schedule from eight to eleven tomorrow. I have somewhere I need to be." She would say. "An important meeting." 

He'd nod. "Yes ma'am." 

[VoxApocrypha]

FAILING FOUNDATION, ACT 1

---

1935, Sablien

---

Office of the Governor of the state of Auran
Apollo Virgon Adashenko
Samantha Dejanus
9:43 AM

"Well it's nice you stopped by regardless, it's been a hot minute since we've had a chat." Apollo would say, setting down a kettle on a plate on his desk, and two cups. He took one for himself, while Sam took another.

"It has, yeah. I would have tried to send you a message earlier but I've been preoccupied." Samantha said. "You know how it is."

"That's part of why I contacted you, I admit. A bit of business with a friendly meeting is a bit inevitable these days, I'm sure you understand." Apollo told them. Samantha did not disagree, but hadn't wanted to discuss the present nature of their situation. They both knew more than anyone beneath a certain level, and Apollo had ears everywhere thanks to the power of the Ultranationalist Party. She leaned back in her seat, holding a now full cup of caffeinated tea in one hand, the other on the armrest.

"I do. What exactly do you want to talk about?" She'd ask him.

Apollo would after a moment, take out a copy of a report from the department of defense. He'd flip to a particular page, and set it down in front of her.
"At present, I want to know what they're not saying to the upper echelons."

She would lean forwards. It was a report written from her wing, she recognized the tracking number and the name. She'd sigh. "Right." They'd take a sip of the tea, and grab the stack of papers from the desk, her eyes drifting to the highlighted parts, skimming them since she'd already read the document herself several times before.

Apollo would speak again. "Is it true?"

"Yeah." She'd say. "They used chemical weapons. Unfortunately, Marrlan did it first." Samantha would say, her eyes not coming off the page as she went all the way to the bottom. "The other parts also true. In about a season we're going to be out of Staol. Government knows that but they don't know how badly we're hemorrhaging for fuel. Especially because of the Grinvel and Galran invasions of Koi." She would flip the next page.

Apollo had gone silent, his eyes fixed elsewhere, but he wasn't looking at anything in the room. He did this a lot, when he was lost in thought he'd zone out.

"..What options do we have?" He'd ask her.

"The legislature was going to foot a bill to switch off the use of Staol for stocks of coal and wood. Start artificially inducing black outs during the day to power the cities at night." She'd say. "But things aren't looking good. Even if we win the battle of Ouhred and push Grinvel out of Roskana fast enough that they can't pour troops in from other fronts to prolong it here, it's unlikely we're going to be able to do that before the staol stops flowing. Once Termingrad falls we've basically already lost Reseria to the Sovereign Union."

Apollo rested his hand onto his chin and leaned back.
"Not a lot of options there." He'd say quietly.

Samantha nodded her head in turn. "No. Not really." She'd stare at the table for a moment longer. "..I think even if you do win this election, you may be the one who ends up presiding over Roskana's formal capitulation. In that I think we may still not be immediately carted off to die." She'd quietly say. "Fiegler's honorable. I've told our men to be. I think we may get a better deal than the Marrish if that holds up. You and I both know Grinvel doesn't fit that well into the plans of Galra and their vision of the world, so soon enough they'll be at it between each other when we're not in the picture."

Apollo leaned back into his seat and would take a long sip of his tea, emptying the cup.
"..I pray you're right about Fiegler. And that the Kaiser might be more attuned to him than Mueller." He said quietly.

She exhaled through her nose.
"I pray every day. But I don't think our prayers are being answered." She said.

"Give it time." He said. "I will pray with you, if that might help you feel better. But I know the weight on your shoulders. Soon, it will be on mine." He'd tell her, as then he would bring his hand up to his neck. He'd grab his necklace, and pull the pendant around his neck up from under his shirt. He'd unclip it, and wrap it around his hand, before then holding it out to her. Her eyes landed on it, and a moment later, she'd bring her hand up to rest on his, the two of them closing their eyes and silently praying.

[VoxApocrypha]

FAILING FOUNDATION, ACT 1

---

1935, Sablien

---

Correspondence:
C: Samantha Dejanus
R: Apollo Adashenko

Understand that this letter is being delivered with the expectation it will remain between us. 
But recent communications from the president have made it clear this situation is unlikely to improve before it reaches a critical factor. 
They are fixated on the idea of re-election, and know their position is tenuous at best. They are trying to save face, and now are attempting to claim the failure of our policies in the defense of the nation. 

As it stands the media has not made any report of this, yet. We worked to prevent this from leaking. 
But me, Etran, and Jackus have all come to a decision together after a private discussion that the current government must be deposed if this war is to be won. 
I have begun directing several units from bases near and around the Auran region to prepare for deployment into Auran and its surrounding districts. 

Local police are expected to either remain in their stations, or to support the action. 
Once they return to port, we intend to arrest them and seize control of the capital, upon which time you will be placed at head of government. 
This decision was not made lightly. But we feel it is necessary, and you are perhaps are best hope for change. 
Whatever decisions you make, we will support unconditionally. 

Good tidings, and serve with honor. 

[VoxApocrypha]

FAILING FOUNDATIONS, ACT 1

---

1935, Sablien

---

Residence of the Vice President
Outside of Auran

There was silence from the upper floor of the house, not atypical, but it was oddly quieter than usual. Especially now that the home had lost another resident.
The maids were quiet in mourning for the late son of their employer. Perhaps the vice president was more liked than most others, if only because he was more personable and fair compared to his fellows in the executive arm.

But even they had noticed the silence, growing concerned. He had come home, they'd seen him make his way upstairs into his office after dinner, silent and visibly drained of life in the wake of what had occurred. They expected at least perhaps he may use his record player to play music for himself, but there was nothing.

Eventually, even his guards grew worried. This silence was unnatural. There was -no- noise from the other side of the heavy wooden door.

Three knocks rang from the other side of the door. A moment of silence passed quietly, the shifting shadows under the door would obscure the light from the hallway. Several more moments passed, before then three more knocks were heard, before a voice on the other side came through, muffled.

"Mister Vice President, can you hear me?" The man said. The concern in their voice grew as a moment later they began to pound harder on the door.

"Vice President! Mister Andrew, are you in there?" He said, the man wearing a black suit with a white undershirt, and army webbing, as was typical of the Special Protection Services. "If you do not open the door I will have to force entry!"

More silence followed. He told one of his colleagues, another man, a human one with darker skin to make his way downstairs to get additional guardsmen. After two more had arrived, all holding handguns, they'd prepare to breach. The lead man, a Festria standing at a towering six and a half feet, raised his leg, and slammed his boot hard against the wooden frame, causing it to immediately splinter at the hinges before he kicked again, then again.

The door eventually came off, and crashed into the room, the men filtering in before they all stopped cold in their tracks, eyes widening collectively as their weapons went back to their sides immediately. The men swept the room, and then once they saw no signs of forced entry, allowed their attention to shift to the body.

Hanging from the light fixture, was the vice president. 

The police and paramedics were called to the estate half a minute later, the maids sent home. The estate was locked down, and a comprehensive investigation launched immediately - press caught wind, trying to swarm the estate in the early hours of the morning as the activity drew attention. There was not much the cops could do to remove them aside from keep them off the property, but there was no way to prevent this information from getting out. They could only try to delay it. Once notified of his death, the legislature was ordered to gather for a session, and word was sent immediately to the president's boat.

[VoxApocrypha]

FAILING FOUNDATION, ACT 1

---

1935, Sablien

---

Prior Post: (Correspondence)

---

C: Apollo Adashenko
R: Samantha Dejanus

The vice president was found dead in his residence this morning. Or, evening, rather. 
Suicide. No foul play involved, no damage to his room or signs of forced entry anywhere in the building aside from where the security had to kick in the door.
The legislature is gathering in order to discuss replacing him, pushing the speaker of the house to assume that position. But as he's also on that boat with the president, that'll still have to wait for the start of the new season. 

Do we just intend to arrest them at the port now? If we do it'll look a lot worse on us, I think. 
We may have to maintain the path to election day instead of the planned march on the capital. 

---

C: Samantha Dejanus
R: Apollo Adashenko

We are unsure. This wasn't expected, and we're all surprised. Andrew was perhaps one of the only good men in our government. We knew he was going through a lot of grief with the loss of his son at the start of Sablien. 
His death is a tragedy, and it's created new variables. But we may still proceed with the arrest at the port. They're still on Amnity, if they've already arrived at their destination, and should still return to the port of Auran on the first of next month.
Me, Etran and Jackus are still discussing among ourselves what will be done but it's unlikely to change, we are not rich with options. 

Military support is broader than anticipated, especially among units on the frontline and troops from the Auran area - which there are a lot of. We should at least have the support of most of the armed forces, and most state governments may fall in line relatively quickly once they can see a solution on the horizon. Delegate Atticus of Karalia - I'm sure you know him given he's probably your biggest supporter in the Auran region aside from the armed forces and our Industrial lobbies, Governor Dejanus from Mars state, and Governor Kera from Eflus are on board. You have given us Auran. The others are not enough to stand in our way, but at present I think perhaps our biggest weak link is going to be Arema. With the news of the Vice President's death traveling quickly, other nations, and the other states, will likely hear soon. But the legislature is set to make an announcement on the day I send this, informing the world of his death. 

---

C: Apollo Adashenko
R: Samantha Dejanus

The additional support is good to have and necessary, but I do think that we are potentially moving too quickly. Especially since, without the support of the legislature as a whole this could probably become quite messy. I know that my party controls a significant portion of seats in the Diamid and other parts of the legislature, but despite our name and goals a substantial number of them are not as radical as the core members, and myself. The non-republikan legislature may not support this action wholly when we do it, even despite our support from Praxus, elements of the SocLibs, and the Martian party alongside my Ultranationalists. 

The loss of the vice president appears to have shaken the Republika party, and as their main emblem of power on the mainland is dead they appear to be acting a bit erratic. In the legislature today they tried to promote one of their members to acting vice-president, which went over poorly. This has been pushed to the press, and should at least provide from pushback against their activities by supportive elements among what portion of the population is not just apathetic. 

---

C: Samantha Dejanus
R: Apollo Adashenko

With the support of your party and its near-majority given its allies make up the difference, things should still go off well-enough. We only need the legislature until we can fully institute your control. 
Your worries are understandable. But you need not be concerned. Focus on your campaign and keep appearances up, the spectacle in the legislature will be a hit to their reputation all the same, and may prove to be benefecial going forwards. Have your elements in the press spin it as hard as you can, turn it into a stain they can't wipe away. 

[VoxApocrypha]

FAILING FOUNDATION, ACT 1

---

1935, Sablien

---

Office of General Akul Makaan, Roskanan Army Central Command
9:00 AM

---

C: Samantha Dejanus
R: Akul Makaan

 General Makaan. 
You know well of the works I've undertaken in the name of preserving Roskana. Your work in deposing the despotic Tsar in the Overthrow is among the many great successes that made the seizure of Auran so bloodless, compared to other places. Roskana has need of this again, and will soon. I understand that you were never a fan of the republic, and your actions were done to prevent a worse conflict, among as well a desire to see the values you originally enlisted to defend under the Imperial banner preserved in some fashion. 

 I need your skill in this task again. 
Your work in halting Grinvel has been instrumental to the defense of Ouhred, but Anderson can take that mantle for now. 
The first day of 1936, we intend to orchestrate a change of governance, and the removal of the Republikan government, to affect a transition to a stronger government under the leadership of Apollo Adashenko, to which I know you share a warm history. Our goal is to achieve a bloodless takeover of the reins of power, and this will require us to assume control of Auran and other regional capitals, at least those still in our control. Once we control all the territory beyond the state of Ald, which had regrettably been mostly taken by Grinvel, we will be able to assume total control. Many regional governors are already on our side, among them being Dejanus, Atticus and Kera. The Ald governor, Barus, is an apathetic and is still in Ald as of this moment, their status is presently unknown. 

 The bases covered politically, militarily these need to be done for this to go off without a hitch:
Secure government buildings inside of Auran and regional capitals. 
Secure major roadways, deploy military police to the inner city. 
Republika party members need to be detained under home arrest if possible, if not, found and detained - and placed within police custody. 
Once this is done, the transfer of power will be affected immediately. This is to be done less than an hour before the expected return time of the president. The death of the vice president has already placed the Legislature in a difficult position, and inner-party infighting and legislative dysfunction will grant us all the time we need to dissolve the institution entirely. 
If all goes well, this is likely not going to escalate to a potential civil war. Your troops will be needed to maintain order. 

---

C: Akul Makaan
R: Samantha Dejanus

What you are asking me to do is no simple task, and on such short notice it is beyond my ability to guarantee any sort of smooth transition of power. My forces at present are barely adequate for this task.
Nevertheless, I understand why you have come to me for this. I cannot ignore such a state. It took me, admittedly, some time to consider if this letter was something worth responding to, or if I should uphold the oath and warn the government. However, at present, this government is ill-equipped to perform many basic civilian functions, and has ignored repeatedly my calls for a more substantial military mobilization and the mobilization of the population for total war. 

I will provide what troops I currently have to seize key points in the capital and where-else they can. But understand that this is not being done for free. 
Should this go off well enough, I want the immediate reinstatement of Amelia Karshkan's rank of general, and her placed under my direct command.

---

C: Samantha Dejanus
R: Akul Makaan

What you ask for is hardly much of a price to pay, but she will be a contentious re-addition among the more Republikan minded. But she will be reinstated.
You may wish to do some internal cleaning before then. Or at least, to emplace operatives where you feel it would be necessary to ensure that these people do not become troublesome. 
And that if they do, they won't be for long. Sedition among our ranks is something we can ill-afford right now, hypocritical as it might seem given what we are planning to do. 

---

C: Akul Makaan
R: Samantha Dejanus

Amelia was one of my best subordinates, and her actions during the Overthrow were regrettable but in line with the call of duty. Her skills are valuable to me.

The return of Karalia to statehood is my primary demand.
Karalia is my home - and it being downgraded to little more than a sub-state of Auran has been a contentious point. While I did not agree with its revolt against the republic in the early days, the punishment given has stifled the growth and prosperity of my homeland relative to the already stagnant state that the rest of Roskana beyond Auran has faced. Karalia will return to statehood and be granted its representation in any future political body. 

If this demand is met, then you will have my loyalty going forwards after the Coup.
My men will begin staging. I need to know in advance when the go-order will be given. 

---

C: Samantha Dejanus
R: Akul Makaan

You will have what you are asking for, of that you can be sure.
I am glad to have your support. Go order will be given likely at 11:00 PM on the last day of Sablien.

---

 General Makaan would set the letter down on the side of his desk, and take another long drag off of the cigarette between his fingers, the dark furred Festria closing his eyes as he held his breath for a few moments. After some seconds passed, he'd open his mouth, and let his breath slowly exit into a cloud of smoke ahead of him, from his nostrils and mouth. The red panda would soon extinguish the cigarette, and pull the letter close, folding it neatly and placing it into his breast pocket, before he'd close it and take a pen from his drawer. 

 He grabbed a stack of fresh line paper, and began to write, and quickly so, beginning the process of dispatching orders to his immediate subordinates who would filter it out to his staff across the region via radio and telegram. Quickly so, he mirrored similar orders he'd given during the overthrow. Many things had not changed since the first orders were issued, and the layout of Auran was among them, meaning it'd be relatively simple to repeat the actions, just that they'd have a rougher time doing it effectively.

 As well, he'd draft a letter to Amelia, and place inside a pair of rank tabs, before sealing it. By that night, they were all mailed out and the orders distributed. Movement of troops began in earnest some few hours later into the night, as they began to stage for a move into the city within their bases, which didn't appear too out of the ordinary given present circumstances. Few people got the sense anything was wrong. Those who did, weren't sure what. News from the front said that there was a big attack underway by Grinvel, and it provided a convenient enough cover for the actions to be taken these next couple of days. But only a handful knew what was really going to happen. 

[VoxApocrypha]

Thread Closed - Failing Foundations continues in: Part 2: Winter of Sorrow