“With all due respect, Representative Starosta, I understand what the people want and what the General Assembly want us to do, but it simply isn’t possible for us to start a war with Turkey right now.” General Brózda sighed, gently creasing the wrinkles on her gently tanned face. Her tan uniform jacket hung halfway open, partway between a dress outfit and a simple footsoldier’s uniform, studded with a small handful of medals nonetheless. The Romanian Navy is small to reliably protect our troops, and at our current pace, we won’t have a hold on the Crimean peninsula for another month or two, at least. Maybe only one, [i]if[/i] we are lucky.”

Katarzyna sighed in response, crossing her arms over her chest. “I understand that, Ludmila, but it’s not my decision to make. You’re free to meet with the Assembly yourself, or give me a message to deliver to them, but there’s a reason I’m just ‘Representative’. Despite what Blaskowitz might think, I don’t make the decisions around here.” She said, pursing her lips.

“I don’t exactly have time to wait for a meeting with the General Assembly. That could take days, and we’re already staring down the barrel of a major war in the Americas. Between assisting the Indonesians after Surabaya and that...” Ludmila groaned, running her hand through her hair with a shake of her head.

One of the two men on either side of her - the older of the two, with a couple more signs of wear on his face - straightened his tie, clearing his throat. “She’s right.” He said. I know Mr. Szymon,” he began, gesturing to the young, greyish blue-uniformed officer, “is eager to put the Turkish Navy at the bottom of the sea, but we have a bigger issue on our hands, as I’m sure you all know by now.” 

Instantly, silence fell over the room. Everyone did, it seemed, know exactly what he was talking about - having a spy in the White House bore plenty of fruit, and on this occasion, it bore a particularly sour one. Nobody wanted to break the silence, it seemed, until Szymon finally did mere moments later. “We’re ready for it. You said the Americans haven’t caught on to the Curacao agreement, yes? When the Mexicans make their move, we’ll be ready. Progress is going well on the airstrips -”

“Airbases or not, we still need the Kriegsmarine. A single carrier group, a bundle of escorts, and a load of submarines isn’t going to sink the corporatist boats, not with coverage that doesn’t go further than Texas or Florida. And with the Mexicans poking the British...”

“...We might be going up against the Royal Navy, too, Vasilijus. Jezus Chrystus, we might be staring down the barrel of a three-way war.” Starosta sighed, her shoulder going slack. Finally, she understood exactly why an invasion of Turkey wasn’t possible. Russian objections aside, if they were about to go up against two, perhaps three of the largest navies in the world, with a whole ocean to cross to get to one of them...

That didn’t leave the PUL or Germany with the time or troops to seriously contest a Turkish invasion of the Caucasus.

“...I understand, but the Assembly is going to want options, since we can’t just go around telling everyone we magically know that the Americans are gearing up to invade Mexico. That information stats here, and with the *appropriate* allies. The point is, I need something to tell them, or they get suspicious, and we do too.”

“It doesn’t have to be that complicated. I’ve spoken with Mr Rudnicki - Foreign Affairs. He’s already prepared an official statement. The conflict between Britain and Mexico is worrying us, and, on top of that, the Turks are providing us with the perfect excuse to mobilize, as they’re threatening our allies in the Caucasus - or sovereign Russian territory, depending on who you’re talking to.” Vasilijus Narutowicz snorted derisively, knowing full well that not a single person in the room gave a solitary shit about the territorial integrity of the Tsardom. “That wouldn’t even be a lie, either. We do need to *show* the Turks that we are not weak nor unwilling to act, so that’s what I suggest we do. This looming war might not happen, but if it does, we need to be ready. We’ve already begun training and doing what we can to arm the Transcaucasus with the weapons they need, and in the meantime, our military is getting ready, whether that’s to fight the Turks...”

“...Or everyone else,” Ludmila added. “Our assets in America, anyway - are they ready?”

“Ready as they will be.” Narutowicz replied. “With the military mobilizing, we have less we can spare for them, but we’re sufficiently entrenched to cause substantial chaos. It may come down to them, frankly. The American worker, I mean - I don’t think we can win this without them. Not easily, anyways, and the good thing is that the American worker is very angry.” He nodded - and so did everyone else in the room. “If they don’t do the work they need to do to free their own country, we can’t do much except hope that we can manage to sink the US Navy, or at least hope that the Japanese can do it for us.”

Suddenly, the mood in the room dropped like a stone yet again. The Japanese were an enemy, a terrible one, but...

Finally, the last man in the room clad in crisp dark blue dress, cleared his throat.
“The Japanese Navy is large, yes, and they can probably give the Americans a bloody nose, but they can’t absorb losses as well. It’s in our best interests for them to sink as much of the Pacific fleet as they can, because it means destroying their own ships, too - ships they’ll struggle to rebuild, which means leaving them even less able to protect their quote-unquote colonial possessions. When the Japanese engage the US Navy, they’ll be getting themselves ready to be virtually unable to do a single damned thing about Indonesia, and they certainly won’t be able to keep a hold on the American coast, if that’s what they are planning. The point is, either way, I doubt they're coming out of it stronger than before."


Katarzyna sighed, slowly nodding her head, leaning down onto the mahogany table between them, her palms spread wide. "We're staring down the barrel of the Second Great War, aren't we?" She said, her words so laden with uncertainty that she could almost feel weight leaving her as she spoke them. War, she'd been prepared for - she'd fought in a few, even - but if everything that was being said was true, or even some of it, they weren't looking at any old war. They weren't looking anything like they'd ever seen before, she'd gathered. The Great War, the one her father fought in, that killed millions, but it'd been thirty years.
Thirty years for the art of killing men and women to advance. She felt her heart drop into her stomach as she realized the untold millions that, in all likelihood, were about to die.

Everyone else, it seemed, was realizing the same thing, silent as Starosta pushed herself back to her full height.

"I'll speak to the assembly and tell them as much as I can. I hope you're wrong, Narutowicz - for all our sakes."