Directorate

This is a sequel to Diarchate

The journey was over. The train grinded to a halt, and Triumvir and Supreme Marshal Lev stepped out of his luxury carriage. He walked in silence to the centre of the city, the Monument to the Revolution, where he would see his fellow Triumvir August for the first time in months. The first time since they had both been forced to sign the warrant for former Triumvir Marsha’s life imprisonment.

“Lev, you’re early. Let’s get to the plan,” August greeted, poring over a map of Carstvoa with red pins in it.

“August. It’s been a while. How have things been in Velikia? That’s a really high-quality map you have here, too. What’re the pins for?”

“Every pin is an area where there were high amounts of unrest among the people following Marsha’s imprisonment,”

That still hurt Lev to hear. He still wished there could have been another way. He’d sent his ally, his fellow Triumvir, maybe even his friend, to a life in prison, where-

“Lev! Pay attention, please. Now, after you went around Carstvoa with your veteran divisions parading, unrest decreased in these areas,” August continued, removing several pins. “And while there certainly seemed to be… less resistance… in the east and the south, the northern and central regions still seem to care. I think I’ll be able to take care of it, though… even if you couldn’t. Of course, I’ll need temporary control of the military,”

August’s every word hung in Lev’s mind. ‘Even if you couldn’t,’ And in that instant, Lev felt powerless and trapped. As powerless as he had been months ago, forced to issue Marsha that sentence, that piece of paper that would ruin her. As powerless as he had been, forced to side with August against her. “I… Oh… Sure, August. Temporary control. That’s fine,”

“Good,” August said, turning around. “Oh, and, Lev? I know you’re upset about what happened with Marsha, but please, move past it. It was a necessary manoeuvre,”

After a few days in Velikia, meeting people and remembering his days there, Lev boarded the train once more to continue work on his longtime project, bringing the east into the Carstvoan fold. Collating his thoughts on the train ride once more, he thought of everything he had done since Marsha’s imprisonment. He’d travelled around Carstvoa, speaking of Marsha as a traitor and how she had to be imprisoned. But he hadn’t truly believed it himself. Nonetheless, it was just how August had put it. A necessary manoeuvre.

Disembarking the train at Vencja, Lev retreated to his house, close to the Principessa’s estate. He would have a meeting with said Principessa later, but, till then, he wanted to catch some sleep.

In a small, poorly-ventilated bunker deep below the Monument, Triumvir and Grand Marshal August sat across from two men clad in smoky grey suits. “So? What is your assessment of the situation?” he asked.

“Triumvir Lev is in Vencja, all the army, save for the veterans from the Revolution, is at your beck and call, and the people attribute Marsha’s imprisonment to Lev. There is no better time to strike,”

Curled in his seat, an adder poised to strike, Triumvir August smiled. “Understood. Thank you,”

And in the hours following that, Triumvir and Grand Marshal August reformed the Carstvoan military; a plan that, with the aid of all the Marshals, Generals, and Commander-Generals of the Army, was executed within a mere three days. Alongside reforming the Army into a more competent fighting force with more artillery and dedicated heavier tank regiments, it also served August’s other plans, abolishing Lev’s title of Supreme Marshal and disbanding the older veteran divisions.

“People of Carstvoa!” August then announced to a massive crowd, his plan truly in motion. “I am sorry to report this… but I was wrong. Triumvir Marsha was guilty of no crime. Her accusations were valid, and the evidence against her was faked by Lev and his fellow conspirators and traitors in the east. An investigation, launched months ago, has finally obtained confessions from these citizens,” he continued, as the newly installed screen above flickered, and for the first time, in all its analogue glory, played a video. Specifically, a video of confessions from multiple former Council members and oligarchs. The voice that had been questioning them seemed off, replaced, but it all seemed normal to the masses.

They were all asked the same question. “To the accusation of aiding Triumvir Lev in planning to stage a coup upon the Triumvirate and establish a pro-Imperial military dictatorship, how do you plead?”

And all their answers were the same, with a tone of broken finality in them, “Guilty,”

As the video ended, August continued. No turning back now. “Triumvir Lev, wherever you are, you are guilty of treason and conspiracy. Spare us the bloodshed and turn yourself in. Long live Carstvoa!”

Lev knew nothing of August’s actions until morning. And that morning was the worst he had ever had. “News from the capital?” he asked a protege of his. “What has August done?”

“Sir, Lev… he’s started a civil war. Against you,”

Lev was silent for a moment. He thought he knew August. He thought they could be more than temporary allies for the same political cause. And then he remembered what he’d done to Marsha, and realised that was always nothing more than a foolish notion. “What forces do we have? What resources are at our disposal?”

“Former veterans are flocking to our lands. The south has already risen up in support of our cause. The east has plenty of light mechanised units, and funds and resources are flowing in from our oligarchical allies,”

“Good. Now, I need you to do something for me. Loyal generals, well-respected troop commanders, oligarchs, anyone or any party that opposes August… unite them in a New Revolutionary Council. Take any measures necessary. Anything to save Carstvoa,”

The first truly major battle of the civil war took place at the southern chokehold of Antyetem. And as much as Lev hoped for the battle to be a victory, he knew as well as August that it, and the south, was already lost.

Pushed back on all fronts by August’s ever-growing forces, Lev knew that in the long term, the civil war would be unwinnable for him. But if he made a desperate break for the capital, maybe he could capture August and hold his government hostage. Maybe. But it was the only chance he had. His elite divisions could break through August’s lines, and after that, he would funnel in his infantry. It was unlikely that he would succeed. But his back was against the wall.

And so, they pushed. And pushed. More territory was lost every day. But his desperate rush to Velikia was working. His elite divisions spearheaded offensives, and his infantry streamed in behind them. Maybe he could win. Maybe he could clear his name, and save the nation he loved. Maybe.

And then came the second-worst morning of Lev’s life. “Triumvir?”

“Yes, General? What is it?”

“Our attack. It’s stalled outside Velikia. A mere twenty-four kilometres away from the city. The troops are out of food and fuel. They can’t continue,”

“Is there any way to-”

“Lev!” his protege yelled, bursting in. “I’m sorry to interrupt, but… the bulk of the army is encircled. They can’t retreat, and they’re all out of supplies to continue pushing. The commanders have already started surrendering. My apologies, but… it appears we are truly lost now,”

“Understood. Thank you, both of you,” he said, pulling out a stack of papers from a drawer. “These are a collection of fake identities, with realistic pasts and backstories. Distribute these to the New Revolutionary Council. It’s the least I can do for you all,”

“Sir?” the young man asked. “Isn’t there one for you?”

“My face is known through half of Carstvoa. I have already tried and failed to live out my dream. Go, please,”

All alone, the once-mighty Triumvir and Supreme Marshal Lev of Carstvoa reached into the same drawer. He took out a small pill. Half was white, half was grey. He bit into the grey end, sat on his bed, and looked out the window, admiring Carstvoa, his Carstvoa, for the very last time.

“My loyal subjects!” Triumvir August announced, standing on a stage outside the Monument. “The civil war is won, and the traitor Lev is dead. Every single traitor has been punished for their actions,” Every single one of them, August thought. Every single one that stood in his way. Miroslav. Marsha. And now, Lev. “With Triumvir Marsha too unwell to resume her leadership,” he continued, mind flashing to Marsha, dead in her cell at his orders, “I will take up the burden of leading our nation,” The thunderous applause rang through the air. “And as my first act, I proclaim our nation now the Carstvoan Directorate, and myself as sole Director. Long live the Revolution! Long live Carstvoa! Long live the Directorate!”