[b]~Mariyinsky Palace, Kiev, Ukraine~[/b]
[i]July 1960[/i]

"What is the meaning of this, Anastasiya?"

Anastasiya Solovski, the Hetman of Ukraine, looked dismissively on as she sipped her tea. "That's 'Your Grace' or 'Hetman Anastasiya' to you, Lord Denysenko. Kindly repeat yourself, but without the vague accusation and disrespect." She brushed a strand of her black hair away from her eyes.

The grizzled old man glaring balefully at her was none other than the High Lord of the Senate, Zynovij Trokmovych Denysenko. "Hmph. I asked, what is the meaning of this stunt you are trying to pull? The Belarusian war declaration failed today somehow, despite all the work we had put in to bringing the National Democrats on side, only to be followed with a replacement declaration of war on the damned Tartarians instead where some of my [i]own[/i] party had been incited to defect. This smells quite clearly of your involvement."

"You very well might think that, Lord Denysenko. I couldn't possibly comment." She smiled cheerfully at him, as he grew redder still. "I merely give advice in regards to my ideas for the nation's future to its duly elected Verkhovna Rada. Its decisions are its own."

“You know very well, I’m sure,” replied Zynovij, acid dripping from his words. “This kind of meddling is highly intolerable and against the spirit of the constitution, and I’m sure my fellow nobility agree. Mark my words, we’ll be prepared for this kind of meddling next time. You are decidedly against the interests of the Ukrainian people, and we will not stand for it.”

“The Ukrainian people?” asked Anastasiya, head tilted slightly leftward. “Or just you and your hawkish friends trying to bring ruin to the nation through another protracted war?”

Zynovij shook his head angrily, and left without any further comment. The guards almost moved to stop him from exiting without proper procedure, but Anastasiya waved them back to their posts. She looked to the woman next to her with mild curiosity. “So what do you think?” Her maidservant, Yeva, looked grim.

“You’ve made another enemy this day... but I daresay you’ve made a few more friends, too. It remains to be seen whether one will balance out the other.”

---

In the war room, a number of generals waited patiently around the table for Anastasiya to arrive and give the meeting direction, until the door finally opened.

“Her Grace, Anastasiya Artemivna the First! [i]Vsye pidnimaetsya[/i]!”

In response to General Ruslan’s direction, all rose and bowed at the Hetman’s entrance.

“Thank you, Ruslan Mykolovych. You may all take your seats.”
As all took their seats, Anastasiya remained standing in front of her designated place at the head of the table.

“I’ve called you all here, as you may have expected, for an operation to secure the peninsula of Crimea from the warlord Iskändär Fayzulin. I follow the philosophy that soldiers should always have the right to know why they are fighting, so I will tell you. You should know that this operation has two primary casus bellis: First, to obtain the former Imperial Russian Navy docked at Sevastopol. With our incredibly small navy, Ukraine is vulnerable to any assault by the Ottomans or [i]any[/i] hostile European power that the damned Turks decide to let through. Securing this navy and refitting it will substantially bolster our naval strength, and potentially even establish us at the preeminent Black Sea naval power over the Ottomans themselves.”

“Secondly but no less importantly, the plight of the Ukrainian people in the so-called land of ‘Tataria.’ Though the population of the peninsula is predominantly Tatar and Russian, we estimate around 10-20% of the around 2 million people that live there are Ukrainian. Those Ukrainians who have not been able to escape into this nation live under a brutally repressive and discriminatory regime run by the victorious Tatars. I surely sympathize with the Tatar need for revenge against the Russians, but to include our own people in that number is something I [i]cannot[/i] allow. I see it as my duty to protect all Ukrainian people, wherever they might be.”

With that, Anastasiya returned to her seat to first slight but then a room full of applause.

“She’s sure passionate, isn’t she?” one general whispered to another. The man he whispered to, clearly the youngest in the room with a sharply defined, handsome face, nodded. “But I respect that all the more.”

“Thank you, Your Grace.” Valentyn Vasylovich, the other senior general besides Ruslan, picked up where she had left off. “We’re gathered here today to discuss the operational details of this plan, which we’ve codenamed Operation Cherno. First, I will present my proposal.”

Valentyn stood up, and walked to the nearby wall, on which Crimea and its surrounding areas were depicted on a map, and made small marks at various points along the coast. “I highly recommend this be initiated by a covert operation. The Pryznyach would be best equipped to handle that. By making small landings across the island, we can create small beachheads on which to land further troops and catch them from behind and by surprise. I have no doubt that we can secure a substantial portion of the peninsula before Fayzulin even wakes up in the morning.” He smirked slightly at the thought.

Ruslan shook his head with grave disdain for what seemed to be the millionth time. “You sure are proud of your Pryznyach, aren’t you? But even a novice cadet learning about tactics can see the obvious flaw in your plan. If you [i]don’t[/i] manage to catch them by surprise, what then? The Tatars have been on guard ever since the People’s Republic fell, they can see the writing on the wall just as well as we can. Then your precious special forces will be stranded on the beach, stuck and under withering fire. The only clear option is the obvious one: we attack head on with all our forces. We need to take the route into Crimea as soon as possible with as much force as necessary. The Tatars don’t have an air force, do they? We just drop a few bomb loads onto them as we’re coming across and they’ll scatter. These aren’t professional soldiers, they’re a band of gangsters. We don’t have to worry about a thing.”

Valentyn glowered back at him. “So you’re going to criticize my plan for relying heavily on an assumption, but yours relies just as heavily. What if they put up a determined defense? What if their anti-air proves sufficient? The highway into Crimea will be turned into a bloodba-“

“Leonid, you look like you have something to say.” Anastasiya’s voice rang out, disrupting the emerging argument.

The younger man near the back of the room smiled gratefully. “Thank you, Your Grace. How observant of you. I’m frankly… surprised you know my name.”

“I took the appropriate preparations for this office. Learning my subordinates’ names is certainly a part of that.” She smiled slightly. “Well? What is it?” 

General Leonid leaned forward over the table to reply. “There is a way we can both secure the primary route into Crimea and prevent any chance of a stalemate situation like in the last war. I’d simply like to commit the First and Second Armoured Divisions as the primary offensive force, with infantry only serving a backup role.”

“You’re proposing this based on the results you obtained in the invasion of the Ukrainian People’s Republic, are you not?” Anastasiya replied. The other generals all muttered slightly.

“Colour me double surprised, but yes. By using the First, Second and Third Armoured Divisions as a concentrated force, we were able to decisively break the defensive line around Kharkov and trap a pocket of over 20,000 soldiers. A small success in comparison to the overall war, but here we’re dealing with a similarly small situation. By using primarily armoured and motorized forces, we may be able to succeed in achieving a similar level of surprise as with Valentyn’s plan while still ensuring a supply line to our troops. What makes matters far easier is that the peninsula is so small they will likely be unable to fully marshal their military until the entire country is already mostly under our control. Using the air force as Ruslan suggested will further increase the likelihood of success.”

Valentyn and Ruslan looked at him and each other, both at a loss for words at the dark horse that had entered the arena.

“That sounds like an excellent plan to me, Leonid, I thank you for proposing it. Obviously there should be further discussion, but can we all agree on this as a general outline?”

There was a general voicing of agreement, and ever so briefly Anastasiya winked at Leonid in approval before returning to business.

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