Courtly Chronicles 9

Courtly Chronicles won the previous month, despite a last-minute vote that tied the poll, but this was already finished so I'm posting it anyway. I mean, I've got Psychoprotective chapters too (the reason this was late was because I was writing the entirety of chapter 8 over the last few hours), but I'm saving them to post when I miss an Anima Academy update. (Note: this monday will be one of those times)

[Tanya Degurechaff von Goethe aka Tenya Deguchiya aka Archduchess von Goethe, circa 1927, age 13]

Life in the early 19th century was a constant battle with boredom. Well, it was a bit of a rich person’s problem, but Tanya never really experienced poverty except as a young orphan, and when you’re not expected to work it’s much the same.

At least Sir Chalmers could be relied upon to provide a skilled chess opponent. It was better than nothing. “I must say, these Pro Heroes are fascinating.” He said as he made his latest move. Tanya immediately executed another move, and the man grimaced. “Do you think it could be done with mages, post-war?”

Tanya hummed. “I considered trying to start something like that.” They admitted. “My students in the Imperial Army alone could be mustered to create a sizable hero force.” Sir Chalmers hummed absently as he considered his next move. “What axed the idea was primarily the financial aspect: There’s no money in it.” He made another careful move, and Tanya absently took her own move. “Check. There are three aspects to the financial side of things.” Tanya explained.

“Three?” Sir Chalmers said. “You never did mention how heroes made money, now that I think of it.”

“Three.” Tanya confirmed. “First and foremost, the majority of heroes got paid mostly with tax money. Logged hours at a reasonable rate drawn from municipal budgets, plus extra at the national level for actually dealing with incidents. Bonuses for dealing with particularly troublesome thorns in the public’s side. There was a ranking system for villains, and you got a hefty bounty for bringing in the big fish.” Sir Chalmers decided on which of the limited options he had, moving again. Tanya immediately attacked from another angle. “Check. The budget just isn’t there, and post-war is going to be worse. The economy can’t handle it.” Tanya explained.

Sir Chalmers wiped his balding head with his handkerchief, but he still had moves that didn’t lead to his demise, so Tanya let him sweat it out. “The Americans could probably afford them.” He added ruefully.

Tanya shook their head. “The Americans have far too much territory for it to be productive.” Sir Chalmers made the correct move to escape the net, so Tanya took the appropriate move to lead him back into it. “At best, you can attach some mages to the police or fire departments of major cities and dress it up. Without modern telecommunications, heroes just aren’t going to be able to be deployed at disasters, which is what truly separates a hero from other kinds of municipal services. Further, without global warming, quirked villains, or just planting your country on a fault line like Nippon did, you’re not going to get enough disasters to make the training worth the price tag.”

“Most of that training could be done for military mages, though.” Sir Chalmers pointed out. “You could fold the program into a reservist mage program, keep them sharp in peacetime.”

“True.” Tanya conceded. “It wouldn’t be a bad idea to do that, but then you’re not getting heroes. You’re just deploying military assets during disasters. I understand that pre-quirk militaries typically had rules prohibiting them from participating in police actions.” There was about fifteen years between the reformation of the government and the establishment of the Pro Hero system, and in that time the JSDF frequently had to respond to villains in such a capacity. Tanya understood that most countries had to resort to similar responses.

“Troubling.” Sir Chalmers commented. “This is tricky…”

“The second issue, financially that is, “ Tanya continued. “-is that the consumer culture isn’t rich enough to support the same kinds of media and merchandise that fueled the Hero industry.” After all, the outright majority of the HPSC’s funding for hero compensation was from a special tax on hero image royalties. Half of all the money a hero earned from their image was taxed and put into the pockets of less popular heroes through their hard, but unrecognized, work. This was on top of income taxes, but heroes who earned money taxed that way were generally rich as sin despite this.

“I suppose war does shrink other kinds of economic activity.” Sir Chalmers said in understanding. He finally took his last move of the game.

Tanya immediately took the piece he exposed. “It is what it is. Mate in three.” They noted before continuing: “The final financial concern is that of support equipment. Military-grade orbs are obscenely expensive, and unlike low-budget heroics, it’s not optional.”

“After the war, there’ll be quite a few not doing anything.” Sir Chalmers observed as he looked over the board. “Could maybe get a deal on surplus.”

“Orb technology is too great of a military priority.” Tanya insisted. “Letting the existing hardware exist outside of the military’s umbrella is foolish, and now you’re back to just deploying military assets in peacetime.” They flicked the civilian orb at their collar. “You’d need to create special, cheaper orbs just for hero-type work if you wanted to make it work.” Which they had already spent a few spare man-hours drafting plans for, but the projected unit cost was just too great. “I’ve run the numbers, the cheapest I could design would be like buying two tanks for every mage you wanted to outfit.” It was substantially cheaper than the type 97, granted… “The technology just isn’t there.”

Sir Chalmers knocked over his king, acknowledging his defeat. “I suppose the world just isn’t ready.” He said, sadly.

“That final aspect makes any magical venture that uses aerial mage staff rather tricky.” Tanya said, continuing. “User input is still the main determiner in how much mana is used. This means a mage used to using a military orb will accidentally explode civilian grade orbs. Training helps, but it means that the advantages they would normally enjoy as B and A class mages are completely irrelevant.” That wasn’t quite true, but it was close enough for their point. It did remove the advantages an A rank would normally have over a B, however.

“All this magic talk is over my head.” Sir Chalmers reminds them. “But do you have an idea for how to address this?”

Tanya shrugged. “I have a few avenues to explore. I could scale up, use incredibly large computation machines like industrial mages do, there are quite a few options there that wouldn’t require cramming university degrees into the heads of soldiers.” Like electricity generation. Magic’s as clean energy as it gets, as far as Tanya can figure. Profits would have to be razor thin, but marketing pollution-free energy should still get at least a little traction. “Automation is all about getting the machine to do as much of the thinking as possible.” They say, nodding sagely.

“An interesting perspective.” drily replied Sir Chalmers. “Thinking machines… really.”

Tanya stared at the man who seemed so intelligent until just now. Right, Poka-Yoke was a Japanese invention. He has no frame of reference for it. “...I believe you mentioned a tea appointment with Monsieur Laurent?” She brought out her actual pocket watch. “I don’t believe we have time for another game.” They shooed him away. “Best be on with it.”

“Hrm. Quite.” Sir Chalmers said, an unpleasant expression on his face at the dismissal.

When will this end?

---------------------------

At first, the talks were kept mostly secret. But around day eighteen, someone appeared to have leaked the location of the peace talks to the press, so by the next day the place was besieged by reporters. The Lothiern government put soldiers to keep them out, ordering their companies to leave the secured areas, and put in significant effort to prevent them from talking to the diplomatic teams.

Tanya invited them to chat. “So, Miss Fels.” Tanya said, in Germanian, to the sixth reporter they gave an interview to. “Tell me a bit about your publication and why you’ve sought out an interview.”

Miss Fels seemed a little surprised at  being asked a question before she got into her own, but recovered reasonably quickly. “Well, I’m a reporter for Style Magazine. We’re the premier fashion and high society publication in the world,” Debatable, but certainly in the Unified States, and it did have some circulation in Europa without having any of those bad feelings that would prevent, say, a Francois fashion rag from achieving primacy in the Empire, Albion, or Iberia. It’s equally foreign to everyone, which gives it an edge. “I usually check the pulse of Berun’s high society, get pictures and interviews for the international articles. You’re quite the enigmatic figure, you know. Always working on important projects, but attending most large functions, and always at the cutting edge of fashion as you do so. What's your secret?"

Tanya sipped at the tea service that was prepared for the interview. "Ilusions, mostly." They supplied. "My personal assistant, Monika, reads up on the latest fashions, and secures appropriate pictures. I wear a similar outfit, even if it requires some tailoring, then I program a computation orb I’ve retooled to change its appearance to match the fashion. Takes me ten minutes, tops."

Miss Fels expression contorted in horror. "That's terrible!" She shouted. "I can't print that!"

Tanya frowned. "Why not? I'm sure an article on the utility of magic in fashion would be quite innovative."

The reporter digested that for a moment. "Okay, maybe you have a point, but now’s not the time for that kind of nonsense.” She snapped her fingers. “I can’t tell people that the key to being on the cutting edge is to use magic, Tanya. We need to print stories that get people to buy overpriced clothes and only wear them for a season at most.”

“Fair.” Tanya replied. “Let’s get off of the topic of how I keep up my fashions.”

“Yeah, I can make something up that’s better.” Miss Fels replied. “On to other topics. What is it like being a woman with the full confidence of the Kaiser to sign a treaty?”

Tanya chuckled. “Well, first I don’t really consider myself as much of a woman.” They shrugged. “This would be my first treaty, but I’m pretty comfortable with matters of negotiation. Both sides have leverage over the other, it’s just a matter of creating an agreement that everyone is equally unhappy with.”

“Don’t you mean happy with?” Miss Fels asked.

“I do not.” Tanya replied. “The Francois simply cannot afford what the Kaiser wants, and Monsieur Laurent’s leverage is simply not enough to get him anything resembling a good deal.”

“So what’s the point, then?” Miss Fels asked, taking her pen off of her pad of paper as she leaned back into her chair. “If no one’s going to be happy?”

“Peace, dear.” Tanya said simply. “Peace is the point. It’s my job to get the Francois and Legadonians to accept surrender terms that are onerous enough that the Kaiser won’t throw them out. I may be empowered to agree to terms on his behalf, but he’s only bound as far as he allows himself to be. It would not be difficult for the Kaiser to accuse someone of applying undue pressure to my person. Albion, perhaps.”

“I see…” Miss Fels said. “This is a bit too deep and serious for a fashion magazine.” She observed. “I’m not here to talk about the talks, I’m here to talk about you. Let’s go back to what you said earlier: What do you mean you don’t consider yourself much of a woman?”

Tanya raised their eyebrow. “Well, it’s nothing I haven’t said to the other reporters, let them handle that. Now, how much do you know of my circumstances?”

Miss Fels hesitated before answering. “I know a lot of rumors, but it’s so fantastical that I don’t really know anything. From the beginning, if you please.”

Tanya finished off their tea. “Well, the first thing you should know is that despite appearances, I’m 67 years old.”

“...what.” Miss Fels said, shocked to the core one sentence in.

“Do you believe in reincarnation?” Tanya asked, rhetorically. “That after death, one starts a new life?”

“Of course not.” Miss Fels said, vaguely disgusted. “Heaven and hell await those who die, as per God’s will.”

Tanya laughed the laugh of the condemned. “Reincarnation is a fact, I’m afraid. Remembering one’s past life is still an oddity, as normally one gets their soul cleansed on the wheel of samsara… but I was an exception.”

“Why?” Miss Fels asked, at the edge of her seat.

“I’d rather not give extensive details.” Tanya explained. “But I was too famous for the asshole responsible for such things.” It wasn’t an inaccurate assessment, even if Tanya suspected the real reason was because of the potential for them to duck into One for All as a temporary afterlife.

“Famous?” Miss Fels said incredulously. “You met God and he said you were too famous?”

“Oh don’t indulge him.” Tanya scolded the girl. “I’m sure he’d like for you to refer to him like that, but you would be profoundly disappointed by him in person, I assure you.”

“The Lord can be quite wrathful.” Miss Fels observed. “Did you provoke him?”

Tanya scoffed. “Victim blaming, how droll. As I said, I’d rather not go into detail. The point is, this is supposed to be some kind of punishment. I was fifty-eight when I died, and four when I gained Past Life Recall.” Miss Fels quirked an eyebrow at the phrasing, but let it lie. “That was nine years ago, so I’m sixty-seven.”

“He punished you by making you into an Archduchess?” Miss Fels asked.

Tanya laughed. “The bastard made me an orphan. I got adopted on my own merits.”

“That must have been difficult.” Miss Fels said, writing furiously.

“It was a stroke of luck that I turned to my advantage.” Tanya said demurely. “No, the real punishment was sticking me into this time period. I died in the 23rd century.”

Miss Fels continued to write. “So you’ve gotten so important because you know the future.”

“Yes and no, but mostly no.” Tanya corrected. “I earned my spot in court on my own skills. The fact that those skills include educational standards from three hundred years in the future is relevant, but I don’t know specific future events.”

Miss Fels hummed. “Didn’t get good grades in history? Been there.” She asked commiseratingly.

“The names and dates are all wrong.” Tanya said. “The Great War, as it was known at the time, was supposed to have been kicked off by the assassination of some Archduke back in 1914. It ended in 1919.” Tanya shrugged. “I can’t predict the flow of time, unfortunately. All I can do is try to prevent an even greater tragedy down the line.”

“...What’s the tragedy?” Miss Fels asked, a little fearful.

“The Great War is historically known as World War One.” Tanya answered. “I’m primarily concerned with not setting up another war in twenty years.”

“...I’m just a fashion reporter, Tanya.” Miss Fels reiterated. “Please give me something I can use.”

“Oh all right.” Tanya said, rolling their eyes. “In the future, women’s swimsuits look like this.” Tanya immediately brings up an image of Hagakure wearing a bikini. If you didn’t understand that she was invisible, it looked like Tanya was just showing off the clothing.

Miss Fels immediately recovered. “How scandalous!” She said, furiously sketching.

---------------------------

After three weeks of dithering, posturing, and possibly espionage, the Francois and Legadonian representatives finally managed to put out a counteroffer to their surrender terms.

Tanya reviewed the Legadonian document first. The Francois had decided to dress up the occasion, using film crews to not-so-subtly apply pressure for an acceptance. Tanya was dressed up as much as they were on the first day, and it all had the image that acceptance was a done deal and they were just getting the formalities out of the way.

Surprisingly, the pageantry was not coordinated, as the Legadonians had counter-offered quite reasonable terms. Broadly, it accepted most of the Empire’s demands, they were just negotiating down the intensity of it. As such, Tanya adjusted a few numbers on the fancy paper, just tacking on a little extra so the Kaiser wouldn’t be upset at the lack of haggling, then returned it. Unlike before, Tanya made sure to exaggerate each motion, making sure the film crew could pick up exactly what Tanya was doing and saying.

Herr Nilsson, clearly surprised at the action (or possibly how quickly Tanya had read it), looked at the numbers, considered them for a moment, then just signed it right there before passing it back. Tanya signed it, affixing a dollop of wax magically melted before stamping it with the Imperial Seal that they had been given to represent the delegated authority. There was a cheer from the various groups around the table.

Monsieur Laurent didn’t grin, but you could tell he wanted to after that exchange. He took a document out of his suitcase and slid it across the table.

Tanya only needed to get halfway through the document to confirm things, making sure to give exaggerated incredulous expressions as they glanced at Monsieur Laurent for the benefit of the cameras, before they set the fancy paper ablaze, incinerating it so quickly that Tanya had to create a field of light absorption to prevent flash blindness. Because they could, they used that field to also distort the light so the flames looked silver. Branding, after all. “Don’t insult me. I represent the Kaiser.” They said, giving their best imperious glare.

The Francois delegation exploded with energy at the provocation, shouts and angry words flowing but affecting Tanya not a whit. On Tanya’s orders, the Imperial troops made absolutely no protective actions towards them in response.

“That was the offer.” Monsieur Laurent said. “You can’t just burn it up!”

Tanya snorted, putting their whole posture into conveying amused incredulity. “Give me the real offer.” Tanya insisted. “If that was the only one you have in that suitcase, you’re even more foolish than you think I am.”

Monsieur Laurent visibly contemplated his options. First, he could back down, present the other offer, and they could continue. Second, he could push the issue, attempting to win a public relations victory by using the film crew’s presence as a weapon.

Complications with that strategy was that unlike in modern times, being a politician didn’t automatically imply training on how to handle the media. Sure, there were newspaper and magazine paparazzi, but that didn’t translate well into camera skills. There was a stenographer with the film crew, but the cameras couldn’t capture sound. There was a mage orb recording, naturally, which did collect sound, but the one that would be spread far and wide was the one taken by the camera.

Tanya, on the other hand… had been dealing with the press for decades. They had no doubt that the press was told that this was the signing rather than the first time the Francois and Legadonians had actually put forth a counteroffer to the Empire’s initial demands. Thus, Tanya played into both narratives with their opening move: Haggling a little, but otherwise immediately accepting the Legadonians offer. That ambiguity was the fulcrum that Tanya was applying leverage to, being visibly calm and collected while the Francois representative scrambled.

After a moment of consideration, he brought out one of the other offers, sliding it across the round table and completely ruining his chances of turning this into a PR victory. Looks like they won’t need to call for an interview for damage control… but the day is young.

Hmmm… As expected, and as per the reports from Elya’s cohort, the offer was approximately half of the demands the Kaiser sent along. It included the public acknowledgement of fault on improperly invoking their defense pact with the Legadonian Entente, which was good. They had no reason not to, really, given that the Legadonian terms included acknowledging that they were the aggressor. It didn’t include the war crimes trial for their false surrender at Brest, which was not acceptable, but it wasn’t anything worth burning the paper over.

Financially, it was about what Tanya was hoping to end things on. The colonial concessions were valuable, but politically and geographically troublesome. They were conceding Vietnam, or rather, Nanyue, as well as Madagascar, known here as Malagasy. They conceded basically everything in the Indian and Pacific Oceans, clearly attempting to use the opportunity to trim their logistical burdens in the post-war era.

While it was tempting to just sign it immediately… that would not encourage the Kaiser to send them to negotiate the other peace treaty at the conclusion of the war. As such, Tanya knew that this wasn’t ending today. “It’s a good starting point.” She said out loud, making sure to emote grudging approval. “But it’s not acceptable as is.” She said, slapping the document lightly to emphasize the point. “We would need assurances from Albion about the usage of the Sewes Canal, if we were to take control of these colonies, just as a start.” According to the Conventions of Istanbul, all nations should have free use of the canal, both for war and commerce. In practice, the Albish had been preventing the Empire from using it for most of the war.

“So you reject peace?” Monsieur Laurent asks, provocatively.

Tanya glanced at the camera, gesturing to the man with a commiserating expression. Mouthing to the camera, she asked silently: “Can you believe this guy?” Turning back to the diplomat, she continued: “This is not a final signing meeting.” She said, “I was willing to accept the Legadonians' terms with only a small adjustment because their offer was almost acceptable.” She gestured decisively to the signed document. “I am not going to complain and bluster just to squeeze an extra hundred tons of aluminium or whatever from your country. The strongest shield against war is that of money and trade, and there is no such thing as equitable trade with those who are starving.”

After a moment to let the very quotable statement settle, Tanya let their pleasant expression melt into a glare. “But I will not accept any terms that do not include De Lugo and whoever else masterminded the Brest debacle getting a fair trial for that malfeasance. It extended the war by over a year and expanded it to the southern continent, and while the effects on the eastern front cannot be assessed accurately, every single casualty of war on both sides on southern soil can be laid at their feet.” Control the narrative, that’s the key. It wasn’t even that far from the truth, not really. The Imperial leadership sure believed the truce before the Francois evacuation at Brest was a prelude to surrender terms. Tanya was training Mary at the time, but not a single person Tanya spoke to on the matter expressed anything but indignant rage and shock about those events. Whether that was a reasonable belief… that was less clear. A trial would examine the evidence, quibble about semantics, and determine the version that would be entered into the history books.

Monsieur Laurent once again paused to collect his thoughts. It was a little disappointing, when meeting 20th century politicians, how much less emphasis they placed on planning ahead when it came to speaking in front of cameras. If Argent Silver tried to pull this kind of trick on a modern politician, they would have had a response ready for being questioned on literally any provision of the treaty, even if it was just some default statement that didn’t really mean anything or pointing out that they have drifted off topic. Being stricken truly speechless was death, when it came to television.

Then again, it meant that the politicians and diplomats tended to actually think before saying something, and it’s hard to argue that as a bad thing. “I suppose if the trial was truly fair, that wouldn’t be a disagreeable notion.” Monsieur Laurent eventually said. Tanya suppressed the urge to grin. That was definitely him breaking from his instructions, exactly the kind of thing that they wished for Tanya to do.

“Let’s see if we can’t come to terms on what would be necessary to ensure a fair result.” Tanya said indulgently, taking out a draft of exactly that.

Just as planned.