A Young Woman's Political Record (Youjo Senki/Saga of Tanya the Evil)

[jacobk]

Summary: With the war over and her military career in shambles, Tanya von Degurechaff has to forge a new path for herself. Fortunately, she finds an opportunity to get involved in the political scene. A safe, easy job has never been closer at hand. What could possibly go wrong?

The source material for this fic is fairly obscure. To help people ease into it I will provide a brief summary in this post. Honestly, I think the source material is entertaining enough that it's worth going out and enjoying it for its own sake, but if you just want to jump into this fic I'll do my best to get you oriented with this post.

Youjo Senki / The Saga of Tanya the Evil

In a nutshell: isekai loli Flashman.

In a larger nutshell:

Spoiler: Nutshell

Our protagonist starts life as an ordinary Japanese salaryman. His most notable character traits are a devotion to economic theory and a fairly pronounced degree of sociopathy. He works in HR and our introduction to him is a scene in which he's firing an unproductive employee. As the employee pleads for his job our MC's internal reaction is annoyance: success in a corporation requires following a simple set of rules, so it's this guy's own fault if he can't be bothered to comply. By following the rules, the MC has put himself on easy street.

Then the guy he laid off pushes him in front of an oncoming train.

Just before he dies time is frozen by a being calling himself God who introduces himself by lamenting humanity's lack of faith. The MC responds by sassing him back. He refuses to acknowledge his interlocutor's divinity (though he does recognize the supernatural power of what he dubs "Being X"). Further, he argues that the problems Being X complains of are his own fault for adopting what was essentially a flawed business model. It's only natural that a person growing up in the MC's position would lack religious faith.

This arouses Being X's ire. He declares that if being born a man in a modern, peaceful, scientific country leads to a lack of faith, perhaps our MC will develop faith if he is reincarnated as a poor little girl in a more primitive country and subjected to war in a magical environment.

Bam, isekai! Our MC is now Tanya Degurechaff, an orphan born in the Empire, a country that bears more than a passing resemblance to pre-WWI Imperial Germany. There are a few notable differences from our timeline. One is that WWI kicks off later. Another is that the Empire is bigger than Germany was (the Empire looks to contain most of the old HRE minus Italy plus Poland, roughly comprising modern Belgium, Netherlands, Austria, most of Poland, the Czech Republic, Slovakia, Slovenia, Croatia, and Denmark). The final difference is the existence of magic.

Tanya herself has a tremendous talent for magic. The Imperial military is in desperate need of mages. They don't impose any age limit on combat mages and will conscript anybody with magical talent in the event of war. Since Tanya anticipates that war is coming she volunteers for the military at the age of nine. Her intention is to excel by drawing on her experience with corporate bureaucracy and the insights on war derived from knowledge of our WWI. She then plans to parlay that excellence into a position at the rear where she will safely ride out the war while advancing her career.

Unfortunately, the combination of Tanya's talent for combat and her nigh pathological inability to show weakness or admit fault conspire to deny her the safe posting she desires. Instead she winds up in the thick of things over and over, much to her consternation.

I make the comparison to Flashman because the author gets a lot of dramatic and comedic mileage out of the gap between Tanya's perception of herself and the perception other people have of her. Tanya sees herself as a reasonable person in an unreasonable situation who does what she can to survive and preserve her career. Other people see her as an unholy fusion of a military genius, fearless warrior, and bloodthirsty maniac. Unlike Flashman she is capable in combat; balancing things out is the fact that she is terrible at manipulating people. She and Flashman are quite similar in their ability to mask their inner thoughts with bluster.

For the purposes of this fic, the Empire lost the war after getting dogpiled by everybody but alt!Russia. They were subjected to a ruinous peace treaty that reduced them to the borders of Weimar Germany (as a new polity, the Republic of Germania) as well as other punitive terms. I will otherwise be using a mix of LN and anime canon. I'll do my best to make everything else clear from context.

This fic was prompted by The Leader by lord of the land of fire. While the basic story arc is similar you can expect to see a very different take on Tanya in this one.

Other miscellaneous notes:

Aerial mages: in this universe magically talented people contribute to the war effort as aerial mages. They use military grade computation orbs to fly, enhance their reflexes and physical resilience, and shield themselves from enemy fire. They can deliver attacking spells directly or by using guns that are crafted to aid in spell delivery. Functionally, aerial mages act something like attack helicopters.

Country names: Canon uses a series of extremely lazy name changes throughout alt-Europe. I will continue that tradition for countries that are introduced in this fic. A list is below for reference.

The Empire: Imperial Germany

Allied Kingdom: the UK

Grand Duchy of Dacia: Romania-ish

Ildoa Kingdom: Italy

Francois Republic: France

Legadonia Entente: Norway + Sweden combined in a single country.

Rus Union: USSR

Unified States: USA

Waldstatten: Switzerland

(non-canon)

Republic of Germania: Germany

 

[jacobk]

AN: Note the change in the treaty name from the earlier version. The Treaty of Londinium is a separate treaty that already existed in canon, so the war was now ended by the Treaty of Triano.

ooOoo​

Eight years was a long time.

Eight years was time enough for an Empire to fight off an invasion, to win battle after battle against enemy after enemy, and to lose a war under the unrelenting pressure from all the world. Eight years was time enough for a young girl to go through officer training, serve with distinction, graduate from war college, command a battalion in countless battles, and then be discharged without a pfennig to her name.

In eight years, the orphanage hadn't changed at all. When I was a child, it had to scrimp and save to scrape together enough food to satisfy the gaggle of children under its care. Through the deprivations of war time they had to scrimp and save just to get by. Now, as the nation shuddered under the crushing pressure of the peace terms imposed on the Empire, the nuns no doubt intended to scrimp and save and do their best to feed the latest batch of orphans.

I had never expected to see this place again. Between my magical talent and my knack for managing bureaucratic rules I thought a successful military career was in the bag. I had every intention of rising through the ranks and securing a cushy posting near military headquarters. Government provided housing, a guaranteed salary, and, in due time, a government pension would all be mine.

It didn't work out quite the way that I planned. Well, I did rise through the ranks. And while the government provided housing was often a tent near the front rather than an apartment in the capital, I never did have to worry about paying rent. The problem was with the salary and the pension. By the end of the war the Empire was paying us in scrip rather than cash. It spent well enough on the front, but once the war ended all of the demand vanished overnight. My savings from the previous years of service had been deposited in a bank that had had all of its assets seized by the invading forces. As for the pension, well, the newfound Republic of Germania refused to take on most of the debts incurred by the Empire.

I had done everything right to rise to the top of the organization. Unfortunately, the organization had come crashing down around my ears. I was in the same position as a salaryman who put decades of blood, sweat and tears into securing a corner office just in time for my company to declare bankruptcy and disappear.

The Imperial military still existed. Sort of. Under the draconian provisions of the Treaty of Triano the Republic of Germania had a hard limit on the size of its army and the number of tanks, airplanes, and artillery pieces it could field. When it came to aerial mages, the permitted number was zero. Not only that, but the military was not allowed to employ any individual who had served as an aerial mage in the past. Nor was any other branch of the government allowed to hire such a person.

Major Tanya von Degurechaff. Only living recipient of the Silver Wings Assault Badge. Youngest graduate of the Imperial War College. Highest confirmed kill count of any aerial mage in the Great War.

With all of that and ten marks I could buy a loaf of bread. No, actually, ten marks was the old price. It was fifteen marks this morning. The idiotic fiscal policies of the new government were already starting to bear their poisonous fruit. That's nothing to do with me, though. I could only hope that some day the nation's economists will figure out that printing enough money to buy foreign currency at any price will lead to unsustainable levels of inflation.

Now I was just stalling. Procrastination was beneath the dignity of an Imperial soldier or a salaryman. I took a deep breath, squared my shoulders, and knocked on the door. It didn't take long before the door opened to reveal a familiar face, albeit a face with more worry lines than I remembered. Perhaps the orphanage hadn't been as untouched by the war as I had thought.

"Sister Margaret. It has been a while."

She took a moment to look me up and down. I knew exactly what she was seeing. A girl, seventeen years old but with the appearance of a tween, barely cracking five feet in height. Messy blonde hair hanging down to her shoulders in compliance with military regulations. A jacket and pants combination that was tailored to military specifications but with all unit and rank insignia removed. A duffel bag held in one hand the only sign of luggage.

It took longer than I had expected, but eventually recognition flashed in her eyes. "Major Degurechaff!"

"Just Tanya, now," I said, shaking my head, before explaining my dismissal from the military.

The flash of disappointment that crossed her face was unmistakable. I could hardly blame her. A moment ago she thought that the orphanage could boast of a distinguished alumni, and now she'd discovered that what should have been a pillar of support was as destitute as any of her charges.

"To think that such a thing could happen," she said. "And you're here, now..."

"This is a haven for underage children, is it not?" I said, putting on my most professional smile. "I don't turn eighteen for another few months."

I could see her wince as I made my request. It was soon followed by a practiced expression of sympathy as she prepared to turn me down. Hardly unexpected. The orphanage was not flush with cash at the best of times. Adding a teenager would stress their finances without any corresponding benefit flowing back to them, as I was unlikely to be adopted by a well off family. I couldn't expect them to agree to such an unequal exchange. I pressed on, intent on making my pitch before she could give me a final rejection.

"I can help out with whatever needs doing," I said. "I had to turn in my computation orb but I can still do little bits of magic like body reinforcement. I'm stronger than I look."

The famous White Silver, throwing away her dignity? I preferred to think of it as saying what I needed in order to make a sale. Besides, while a reputation was a valuable thing, it wasn't worth much to someone freezing to death by the side of a road. Some day I would get my career back on track and work on spitting in the eye of Being X. Before that, though, I needed to make sure I survived the coming winter.

Sister Margaret visibly bit back the first thing she was going to say, then took a moment to study my expression before she spoke. "Of course you can stay with us. Come with me and I'll get you sorted out."

I smiled as I followed her inside. Let Being X set the whole world against me. I was never one to just curl up and die because it would be convenient for somebody else.

ooOoo​

A week later I found myself staring with some frustration at a tree stump.

I was in the process of clearing a field in order to expand the space the orphanage could use to plant vegetables. Besides proving my own usefulness, I expected the field to prove quite practical if the country continued along its current path towards hyperinflation. I'd already moved all of the rocks scattered through the field with a shovel and a healthy application of reinforcing magic.

Body reinforcement and reflex enhancement were the foundation of a competent aerial mage. Without a firm grasp on both spells you'd snap your own neck in evasive maneuvers or find yourself shot out of the sky without even knowing what had happened. If I had any kind of combat rated computation orb I could maintain both spells as easy as breathing, leaving the rest of my mind free to fly and fight.

I did not have a computation orb. That made body enhancement a chore and meant there was no way that I was going to rip the stump out of the ground with my bare hands. If I was going to get rid of the stump and complete my appointed task I was going to have to do something stupid and reckless. Something that was nigh suicidal for anybody who wasn't me.

I was feeling nostalgic already.

Taking a deep breath, I took a few steps away from the tree stump and held out my hand with my palm pointing towards my target. With one part of my mind I started running through a set of mathematical equations while with another I focused on gathering magical power and directing it toward my hand. Gently at first and then with an increasingly firm hand as the power began to flow quickly enough to bleed into the visual spectrum. I felt sweat beading on my forehead. While this spell would be a joke on the battlefield it was still more than powerful enough to blow off my hand if I lost control of it now.

There was nothing for it but to grit my teeth and carry on. The spell continued to come together and began afflicting me with the tension headache that indicated I was reaching my limit. If I had taken this much time to gather power with a computation orb the resulting spell would have been able to knock out a tank. Now, I wasn't sure if it would be enough to take out a tree stump. Only one way to find out, though. I grunted slightly as I pulled the mental trigger that released the spell.

The ball of light flew from my hand too quickly for the naked eye to follow. It hit the tree stump and created a gratifyingly dramatic explosion of dirt and splintered wood. The blasted debris was sent away from me, which was nice. I took a moment to catch my breath before taking a few steps forward to confirm my success. The tree stump was gone. A shallow crater in the dirt the only sign of its passing.

It's funny. I never really took pride in my craft. I was proud of my career and proud of my accomplishments, but I never really thought of myself as simply being good at magic. That spell, though... I was pretty knowledgeable about who could do what in the world of combat mages, and I could count on one hand the names of the people who could maybe pull off an orb-free explosive spell.

There was one person who I knew for sure could have done it, but I'd killed her.

Really, when you came right down to it, I was one of the best in the world when it came to magical violence. But thanks to the Treaty of Triano I couldn't sell my services. What a horrifying affront against the principle of the free market system. Being X must have laughed himself silly when he set up that situation.

Maybe I shouldn't blame everything on Being X. After all, even in my old world there was no end to the government's interference in the free market. And while I was no student of history, I was pretty sure that the treaty that ended the first world war was just as punitive as the Treaty of Triano. That treaty hadn't been the result of supernatural interference.

Even so, it's not paranoia if they really are out to get you, right? Even if Being X didn't intervene to set up this situation, he was certainly enjoying the show. While I didn't remember all the details of my original world's history, it was easy enough to see the broad strokes of what was coming. Tanya von Degurechaff survived the great war only to be left penniless and cast adrift to endure hyperinflation, the great depression, the rise of a bunch of fanatics, and an even more dangerous second world war.

Really, I should try not to worry about things that are outside of my control. Sister Margaret was pleased with my work from my first week and rewarded me with a bit of pocket money, which meant that I could finally check off a milestone that had been on my mind for a while: my first drink in this world. While my unit had been getting free drinks everywhere we went, everybody was very conscious of the fact that I was underage. I probably could have ordered them to let me drink anyways, but the Imperial military was very strict and rule abiding. The last thing I needed was a note in my file if somebody complained that I was using undue influence as a commander to force people to break the law.

In the end I guess it didn't matter, but I had held onto the hope throughout the war that I would have a long term career in the military.

Now, though I was still underage I didn't expect the bartender to care. He wouldn't have any reason to know me. More than that, he wouldn't want to turn away a paying customer. I also made sure to wear my jacket with the Silver Wings Assault Badge pinned to it over my dress just in case I could milk a little sympathy from a fellow veteran.

The orphanage was in a sleepy part of Berun, but there was still a bar within easy walking distance. I say bar, but perhaps it would be more accurate to describe it as a beer hall. The whole thing was a single enormous room, bigger than any drinking establishment I'd seen back in Japan. Customers were seated at wooden picnic tables that were set up in rows in the middle of the room. The bar ran along one side of the hall while a stage was set up on the other. Instead of a band the stage was occupied by some guy rambling on about politics. I ignored him and made my way to the bar.

As expected, the bartender barely glanced at me before taking my money and sliding me a pint. The beer itself was a surprise. To be honest, I wasn't a big drinker in my previous life. Even so, fitting in to a big corporation requires attendance at social events. I had had enough alcohol to know what I liked, which was sake, then wine, then spirits, then beer as a last resort. This beer, though, tasted good. I couldn't say whether it was due to some change in my palate or just that the beer here was better, but either way it was easy to drink.

I started feeling pleasantly buzzed about halfway through. This was also unusual, but it wasn't hard to explain. Even after having gone through puberty I had yet to crack ninety pounds and this was my first exposure to booze. In all likelihood I'd find myself plastered if I dared to have a second drink.

I was contemplating whether to risk it when my train of thought was interrupted by a boy sidling up to my spot at the bar.

"Hey little miss, where'd you get that medal?"

I blinked, confused, before I followed his gaze to the silver wings pinned to my jacket. "I killed six people over Norden. Early in the war they thought that was impressive."

While I was speaking I started to think through the implications of his question. Did he think I was some child playing with her parent's medals? The boy in front of me was barely old enough that he might have been drafted to serve in the rear lines at the tail end of the war, but he was far too young to have been involved in the trench warfare on the Rhine. And he wanted to question my service? By the time I finished speaking I had fixed him with my best glare.

He responded with a somewhat gratifying expression of panic. "You're... Argent Silver?"

I nodded and shooed him away. It wasn't until he made his way back to a table filled with his friends that a more chilling thought occurred to me. Had he been looking to break the ice in order to hit on me?

If there was one thing that left me grateful for the low impact puberty had had on my body it was that it left me with almost no libido. Despite my appearance I still maintained my preferences from my previous life. Fortunately, I didn't feel any particular drive to act on them. The Empire might have been relatively progressive in allowing female aerial mages to serve in the military, but it had its limits. Besides that, I needed to focus on keeping myself alive and my career healthy.

Now, though, despite my own restraint, was I going to have to deal with teenage boys every time I headed out in public? The only way I could respond to that thought was to return to my drink.

The guy up on the stage kept droning on and on about scientific socialism. It was strange. I was used to a world where capitalist societies had stolen the best ideas from every other system and drowned the world in a tide of consumerism. Here, though, everybody thought that some kind of socialism or communism was the wave of the future and people were all too eager to debate the pros and cons of various systems of government.

People also felt free to air their personal beliefs even when they veered into what sounded like crackpot theories to my modern sensibilities. Like the guy sitting at a table near my bar stool who could barely wait for a pause in the lecture before announcing his own opinion.

"I'll tell you what we should do. We should join hands with Ildoa. A greater Ildoa could dominate the continent!"

I couldn't help but snort at the idea. I must have drank enough that I wasn't as subtle as I thought I was, as the man swiveled around in his seat to glare at me.

"You disagree, little girl?"

I took a moment to size him up. He looked to be in his late thirties, and I'd eat my hat if he had served a day in the army. Everything about him made me think of an academic who had never had to deal with a practical problem in his life.

I didn't really want to get dragged into a political discussion in a bar, but I could see that the people around us had noticed what was going on. I couldn't bear to back down from this guy without a fight. Honestly, the most merciful course of action was probably to crush his crackpot idea so thoroughly that he'd reconsider and adopt some more sensible beliefs.

I shook my head in response to his question. "I don't think Ildoa wants to ship its treasury off to the Francois Republic."

He smiled, clearly having anticipated this line of argument. "That's the clever part. The treaty of Triano only applies to the Republic of Germania. It says nothing about Ildoa."

I couldn't help but laugh out loud.

"You think the Francois would be satisfied with a name change? Would they take their boots off our necks so easily?" I asked, before polishing off my drink. I set the glass down on the table more forcefully than I had intended, but fortunately nothing broke. "Would you like to go to Parisee and beg them to let us off? Get down on hand and knees and ask for our pride back?"

He looked around him for support as he found himself on the back foot. Finding none, all he could do was throw out a weak question in response. "What would you do, then?"

I smiled. The problem with the academic mind, besides an over reliance on things like the letter of the law, is that it has no understanding of how to appeal to the average Imperial citizen. For all that we were now under a republican form of government, the people were still the same. They naturally gravitated towards the person who sounded like the most die hard patriot and the most gung ho battle maniac.

I was neither a patriot nor a battle maniac, of course. But I'd spent the last eight years honing my ability to sound like both.

"There's only one thing to do! The Germanian people need to throw off their shackles and come together in the Empire! We must stand on our own two feet!"

That prompted murmurs of agreement from the men seated near us. My opponent was reeling now, grasping at straws as he attempted to find his equilibrium.

"You're talking about war."

I couldn't help but sneer. What kind of a fool publicly admits he doesn't have the belly for a fight? I mean, I'm all in favor of running from a fight you can't win, but I don't go around talking about it. Even if it was obvious our country would be crushed if we actually violated the treaty, there was no real risk in just talking tough in a bar. Time to bring this on home with the most absurdly over the top posturing imaginable.

"If need be," I said. "Would you rather die on your feet or live on your knees?"

A chorus of cheers and stomping feet broke out around us. I looked around, startled away from my focus on my opponent. I hadn't realized that we had such an enthusiastic audience. By the time I looked back the man I had been arguing with had left. I had other things to worry about, though.

The guy who had been up on stage had made his way to the bar. As I watched he spoke a few words with the bartender before leveling a meaningful look in my direction. Looks like I was in trouble for starting a ruckus while he was trying to talk.

Man, I did not want to celebrate my first drink by getting kicked out of a bar. Worse, what if this guy was politically connected and decided to get me into trouble with the law? If word got back to the orphanage I could wind up out on the street. What a disaster. I knew I should have kept my stupid mouth shut.

Busy with my internal recriminations, I was caught by surprise when the man I was worried about approached to within arm's length. I was even more surprised by the friendly smile on his face.

"I couldn't help but overhear your spirited conversation," he said, sliding a fresh pint of beer in front of me as he took a seat on the neighboring bar stool. "Tell me, are you interested in joining the Germanian Workers' Party?"

ooOoo​

 

[jacobk]

AN: Continuing the tradition of lazy name changes...

ooOoo​

The guy who had been giving a boring speech on politics turned out to be Johan Dressler, the chairman of the Germanian Workers' Party. Despite his unimpressive appearance, the GWP was a real party and could boast of four members in the Federal Diet. Admittedly, that was a small proportion of a parliament of 480 people, but it was still a lucky break for me to meet a genuine VIP and for him to take a shine to me.

I did my best to make a good impression and in the end we were able to strike a deal: I would make speeches on behalf of the party in exchange for pocket money. If things went well, I'd have a chance to join the executive committee. As expected of an experienced politician, Dressler drove a bargain that cost him little but could win him a lot. Even so, I was happy.

I had an advantage over everybody else in this world, after all. Though I'd worked in human resources, I'd still picked up a decent amount of knowledge about sales techniques. Also, as a consumer I had been exposed to political campaigns that were the result of decades of modern refinement. Building a successful ad campaign in these primitive conditions ought to be within my ability.

For myself, securing a sinecure within a political party was the next best thing to getting a government job. Better, since it wasn't forbidden by an international treaty. Was it hypocritical for me, an advocate of the free market, to be so eager to work for the state? I suppose.

I never pretended to be a paragon of virtue. I preferred to leave that for posers like Being X. I have always considered myself to be a rational person who responded to incentives just like anybody else. It's only rational to seek a stable position in a time of uncertainty. When hyperinflation makes everybody unable to keep paying a living wage, I wanted my job to be as close as possible to the people who control the printing presses at the national mint. Even a small political party would naturally have more political pull than most businesses.

In order to do a good job and get myself hired on to a permanent position my first task was to do some market research. I had never paid much attention to domestic politics when I was in the army. Fortunately it was pretty easy to get up to speed. Berun as the capital was chock full of people eager to talk politics. The country had just recently changed from an empire to a republic as well as losing a war and losing a tremendous amount of territory. Nobody was certain what the future would hold but everybody had an opinion about what the government ought to do.

To put it simply, it was a mess. Depending on how you counted there were four or five political parties with more than ten percent of the vote. None of them could count on receiving more than twenty percent. Another three or four parties had a significant level of support but are stuck below ten percent. Then there were a bunch of parties that had representatives but numerically their share was more or less a rounding error. My new party belonged to that last group.

Finally, Germania possessed a disheartening number of supporters of true blue communists. Their numbers in the national parliament were low because they were pushing for a revolution. If they were to encourage their supporters to vote they would quickly become a first tier political party. For the moment, though, they were focused on recruiting for their revolutionary army as well as setting thugs on so-called "capitalist running dogs"--in other words, effective critics of communism.

Forming a majority in the Diet required a grand coalition of four different parties. Even then the defection of any one of the parties would mean the loss of the majority. It would have been a volatile situation in a normal country. In a country that was still reeling from a humiliating defeat and facing down communist agitators... it was a mess, all right.

Never mind that, my task was only to improve the appeal of the Germanian Workers' Party. The two pillars of the GWP could be described as dislike for the Treaty of Triano and promotion of scientific socialism.

As to the Treaty of Triano, just about every Germanian hated it. The treaty had carved up our country and imposed massive reparation payments that we could hardly afford. The problem was what to do about it. The treaty wasn't something we had freely agreed to in the first place. It was something that had been imposed on us by force, and directly violating the treaty would result in that force coming back to crush us further underfoot.

Some parties suggested complying with the treaty completely. The basic theory was to earn goodwill, or less charitably to curry favor with our conquerors. Others were in favor of various means of passive aggressive or legalistic evasion of our obligations. The Germanian Workers' Party took a relatively hard line, which I believed was responsible for the bulk of its support. Well, that and the fact that Dressler was a distinguished former soldier who got along well with other former soldiers. The demographic of unemployed former soldiers was depressingly large with the war over.

The concept of scientific socialism was Dressler's pet project. He was happy to expound at length about any and every detail related to his theory of governance. The forty-eight hour work week was mandated by science. The forty hour work week was a communist plot. Generous unemployment benefits were vital to the health of the state, but benefits that were too generous would promote indolence and sloth. In other words, the man was something of a nerd.

In a way it was inspiring to listen to somebody talk who was inspired about the subject at hand. In a more concrete sense it was such a terrible bore that I suspected simply dropping it completely would greatly improve our ability to recruit supporters. Unfortunately, Dressler obviously wouldn't accept such a radical change to what he considered to be the heart of the party. I'd just have to work around him with the wonder of modern marketing.

The thing to keep in mind was that in a parliamentary system it was no good to achieve lukewarm goodwill in the hearts of the voters. People had no need to compromise in their votes and could support the party of their dreams, achieving success proportional to their share of the votes. There was no real concept of a "wasted vote" as there was in a two party system. Therefore it was better to have 10% of the people love you and 90% of the people hate you than to have 5% of the people love you and 95% not care about you. Whether it was hate or indifference, it would be the same cost of a single lost vote.

Accordingly, as to the Treaty of Triano, our policy should be to reject it in a forthright fashion. What's that? If we reject the treaty we will be crushed by our enemies? That sounds like the talk of a coward to me. If the people of Germania stand together with God on our side, who can stand against us? Long live the Empire!

For the most part people wouldn't vote for a policy of national suicide. But in a large group of people you'll always find a few who believe anything. Even in a modern society you'll find ten or fifteen percent of people who believe in alien abductions. There ought to be at least that many who think we could win if we give war another try. The best part is that people who want to outright reject the treaty didn't currently have a political party to represent them. It's a basic market principle to profit by identifying an under served market and catering to their needs.

I suppose it's a problem that pursuing this policy would destroy the country. Imagine what would happen if we actually obtained a position of power? Fortunately, this was a problem that solved itself. By taking an open position in favor of a crazy policy we could ensure that we would never be put in a position of power. Endless employment in the Diet with no responsibility for anything the government does sounded like the perfect job to me.

As to scientific socialism, while it couldn't be removed from the platform it could be deemphasized. Instead of talking at length about the details of every program I could simply allude to the wonderful things that would happen. Workers would be treated with dignity. Everybody would earn a living wage. The unemployed would be protected by a safety net. What does that mean, exactly? I'm glad you asked and Mr. Dressler would be happy to discuss it with you at length after I'm done talking. Rest assured that whatever specific payout you are interested in will certainly be provided, though.

Dressler's theories would never be much of a selling point but I was confident that I could at least reduce the extent to which they drove people away. We would avoid any problems with failing to keep promises once we gained power through the simple expedient of never taking power because of the other, more insane, portion of our party platform.

There was one other thing that we needed: a scapegoat. The Empire had lost the war. Badly. The average citizen was quite angry about that. The kind of person who wanted to tear up the Treaty of Triano even more so. All of that anger needed an outlet. There was no easier way to bond with people than to complain about somebody you both disliked, after all. Dressler tended to blame the result of the war on various religious and ethnic minorities, though the specific theory varied day by day.

This was no good. Those ethnic and religious minorities could vote, you know. There may not be that many of them but our party didn't have so many supporters that we could afford to throw anybody away. Instead, it was much better to direct our anger at a group that couldn't vote in our elections: foreigners. Specifically, the Francois.

Honestly, their actions were a little bit despicable. They invaded our country for no real reason while our army was occupied with its response to the similarly unprovoked invasion by the Entente. Then, after they were soundly defeated they pleaded for an armistice and instead of properly proceeding to negotiate a peace they used the time provided to gather their forces and continue a bitter resistance. If you really took the time to think about it, every problem ailing Germania could be traced back to some perfidious action by the Francois Republic.

The Francois invasion was a rational, even predictable response to the counter-invasion of the Entente? The Republic had no choice but to invade in order to preserve its national strategy of putting pressure on the exterior lines of the Empire? Perhaps an academic might say that, but frankly I'd rather not be the person trying to make that argument in Berun to a bunch of unemployed veterans.

So it was that after a week of research I began making the case for an absurdly bellicose foreign policy, pie-in-the-sky government expenditures, and hatred of our neighboring country.

ooOoo​

"For our own government to become a tax collector for the Francois is a disgrace! If Monsieur Mirande wants to take the bread off of our tables, let him come take it for himself!"

I paused for a moment to let the cheers die down as I surveyed the crowd. The results of my rabble rousing were already becoming obvious after two months of effort. Where Dressler had been addressing half full and half interested beer halls, today's venue was packed and crackling with enthusiasm. I wouldn't say the place was standing room only but as I looked around I couldn't see any empty tables.

"Remember, a vote for the Germanian Workers' Party is a vote for a strong Germania! A vote for a safe Germania! As long as the people of Germania stand together we will never be defeated! Thank you for your support!"

Another round of applause. Ah, demagoguery was rewarding work. When the roar of the crowd started to quiet down my plants began to lead the group in singing an old Imperial standby about the greatness of the Germanian people. It wasn't quite as provocative as the Imperial national anthem, but it got the message across. I hopped down from the stage and mingled with the crowd as Dressler came up to follow me. It was a little cruel, but I hoped that the difference in the crowd response to his analytical approach as compared to the raw red meat that I was throwing out would help drive home my value to the party.

It didn't take long for me to work my way to the back of the room. Here it was quiet enough to hold a conversation and one could speak without interrupting Dressler's lecture. As expected, I found an old friend sitting alone in a booth. Lieutenant, or rather, Viktoriya Serebryakov. She looked to be deep in thought with her head down over her drink. It was strange to see her in civilian clothes.

I gave her a smile as I slid into the booth to sit across from her. "It's been a while, Visha. How do you like peace time?"

"Ah, it's good, it's good. Hot food and a shower every day is nice," she said, though she looked troubled. "Lately I have been feeling a little aimless."

As expected of a member of my battalion. Visha was relatively level headed but she's still a battle maniac at heart. I'd have to take her under my wing to help turn her skills to productive use in the private sector.

"You know, the party should be making me a member of the executive committee soon. I could use an adjutant."

She looked down at the table and chewed on her lip for a moment before replying. "To tear up the treaty of Triano and then win a war... can we really do that?"

It was easy to forget because of her innocent appearance, but Visha had a sharp military mind. She was an ace many times over in her own right and had fought beside me on every battlefield imaginable during the war. It was only natural that she would spot how impossible it would be for me to pull off everything I'd promised up on the stage. No matter how stir crazy she felt she was hardly going to sign up to follow a lunatic charging into an unwinnable war.

"What do you think?"

I couldn't just announce to the whole bar that I'd been lying to them all evening, so I'd have to rely on a more subtle Socratic method to tell Visha that I could see what she saw. That rather than plunging the country into war I intended to scam the voters into providing me with a cushy job and if she helped me out then I could extend that cushy lifestyle to her.

"I see," she said, the hesitation vanishing from her eyes. "In that case, I will walk beside you every step of the way!"

Judging from her enthusiasm she must have really been going stir crazy since we all were kicked out of the military. Well, that really wasn't any of my business. I was just happy to have her on board. A trusted and competent aide was worth her weight in gold. I started to brief her on her immediate duties but I was soon interrupted by a commotion near the entrance.

I had to stand up on my seat in order to see what was going on. By rising up on my tiptoes and craning my neck I could see a group of large men wearing red armbands in the process of shoving their way inside.

Communists. I hated those guys.

When I read about communists in the history books I took an immediate dislike to their idiotic rejection of the free market and their stubborn refusal to admit their mistakes as their revolutionary paradises crumbled around them. Add on top of that the atrocities piled on atrocities that were required to keep the communists in control and it would be fair to say that I despised them.

That emotion paled, though, compared to the sheer anger that I felt upon meeting communists in the flesh for the first time. I'd dressed inconspicuously and attended a rally as part of scouting out the political opposition. Seeing somebody stand up on stage and call for abolishing public property in favor of a world where the Party decides everything had really set my blood boiling. If I'd had access to a proper computation orb I'm not sure I'd have been able to just walk away from that bunch of traitors.

The communist party didn't limit itself to the persuasion of sweet reason, of course. Their habit of setting thugs on their competitors was aimed at preserving their own exclusive access to a pool of likely recruits. An ironically mercantile approach, really. In the past they had more or less ignored the Germanian Workers' Party. For them to show up today was a sign that my approach was succeeding. At the very least it meant I was creating a noticeable drain from their target market of people who were willing to tear down society and try to build up something better.

The group of commies had succeeded in pushing their way through to the middle of the beer hall while I brought my temper back under control. Now that they were standing in a cleared spot I could get a decent count. Twelve men, all ready for a fight. We only had five men on hand who were ready for violence, and in all honesty they were more in the nature of bouncers than soldiers. The crowd that had been cheering so enthusiastically had largely drawn back from the impending violence, content to treat it as part of the evening's entertainment.

Political violence was seen a lot differently here than in my original world. In modern day Japan a political party that actively endorsed a physical attack on its opponents could expect a storm of condemnation. If the supporters of two different parties got into a brawl each side would rush to the media to claim they were the innocent victims of a vicious attack. Republican Germania was a more rough and tumble place. As long as nobody died a certain level of violence was just seen as a natural part of politics. Winning the fight was more important than trying to establish moral superiority.

I was going to have to take matters into my own hands if I wanted this to turn out well. Fortunately, the communists were still milling around and taking their time sizing up Dressler and the two bouncers guarding the stage.

"Gentlemen," I called out, pitching my voice so it would carry clearly throughout the room, "I'm afraid this bar doesn't serve dogs or communists."

The group turned and stared at me for a moment before an apparent leader stepped forward, cracking his knuckles. "That's all right. We're not here to order. We're here for a debate."

"Fair enough," I said. "I suppose I should communicate in a manner you can understand."

With that I activated a magical formula to enhance my physical strength and leaped towards the group of men. I landed just outside of their reach and layered an acceleration spell on top of the physical enhancement. It wasn't much of a boost. A proper enemy mage could have shot me dead and had his gun back in the holster before I knew what had happened. Against untrained brawlers, though, it was more than enough. In my eyes my opponents looked like they were trying to swim through molasses as I darted forward untouched and smashed a kick up between their leader's legs.

Without a proper computation orb I couldn't manage anything ridiculous like punting him into the ceiling. Still, my leg was able to impart enough force to lift him a foot or two into the air. I watched in slow motion as winces spread through the rest of the communists like ripples in still water as they realized what had happened.

I took advantage of the brief pause to step back and lean over to take hold of the leg of a chair that had been abandoned earlier. A step forward brought me into range and I swept the chair across my body. It smashed with satisfying violence into the group, sending two men flying as the chair exploded into pieces. The chair leg left in my hand was quite conveniently sized to serve as a cudgel.

Everything after that took place in a sort of red blur. When I came back to myself I was standing in the middle of eleven unconscious bodies.

Hmm. I could have sworn there were twelve of them before. A second check around the area confirmed that I had only beaten eleven of them unconscious. It wasn't until I glanced back towards our booth that everything became clear.

In the middle of the fight one of the men had slipped away and headed toward Visha. Whether he was looking to take a hostage or simply to escape, I couldn't say. Either way, it left me with nothing to do but watch. She was firmly clamped in position on his back with both arms latched around his neck. It didn't take long before he fell to his knees and then the floor, thoroughly knocked out. For her part, Visha let him go and jumped clear just before he fell flat on her face. She was perfectly composed until she realized how much attention was on her, at which point she flushed and tried to hide away in our booth.

That reminded me that I should probably say something. First I headed over to the man Visha had knocked out and tossed him to land on top of the pile of his fellows, giving me a moment to think. Then I put my hands on my hips and turned to face the crowd.

"These degenerates preach collectivism because they are too weak to stand on their own two feet!" I announced. "I don't know if it's possible to beat the idiocy out of them, but I'm certainly willing to try!"

That prompted a cheer from the crowd. I waited until they turned their attention from me and started to talk amongst themselves before I relaxed. I took a seat on the bench and slid over until I was close enough to cuff Visha on her shoulder.

"Taking so long to knock out one man... you've gone soft," I said, teasing her. "It's a shame there's no more Rhine front to visit to knock the rust off."

"Yes, major," she said, her gaze fixed on the table.

One little fight and she was nostalgic enough to call me by my old rank. Honestly, it was a wonder that high command had managed to convince the army to surrender. I guess in the end Imperial discipline had been a little stronger than Imperial fighting spirit. It was enough to make me a little nervous. I needed to get Visha officially hired as my aide before she left for bloodier pastures.

The whole bar was still buzzing with conversation. Looking it over, I saw that Dressler had decided to cut his presentation short. As I watched, he finished talking to the group of bouncers and moved to start mingling with the crowd. For their part the bouncers started dragging the unconscious communists out of the way. I couldn't help but notice that they were taking them into the back room rather than tossing them out the front. Well, when you try to crash somebody's party I suppose you don't always get to leave when you want.

I put it out of my mind and turned my attention back to Visha. "Don't worry, I'll think of something. Come on, we should talk to the boss."

I tugged on her arm and half dragged her out onto the floor. The crowd politely parted around us as we made our way toward Johann Dressler. He seemed to feel us coming and turned to face us as we approached. I gently nudged Visha forward as we closed to within conversational distance.

"Mr. Dressler, this is my good friend Viktoriya Serebryakov. She hates communists nearly as much as I do and I think she'd make a wonderful addition to the party," I said. I put my best professional smile on my face before I continued. "I also think this is a good time to discuss my role in the party going forward."

Pushing for a promotion after performing meritorious service was just common sense.

ooOoo​

 

[rx915]

It's funny. I never really took pride in my craft. I was proud of my career and proud of my accomplishments, but I never really thought of myself as simply being good at magic. That spell, though... I was pretty knowledgeable about who could do what in the world of combat mages, and I could count on one hand the names of the people who could maybe pull of an orb-free explosive spell.

There was one person who I knew for sure could have done it, but I'd killed her.

Click to shrink...

Is that person she killed Mary Sioux?

 

[Ultimatum]

Oh boy, I'm sure this will all end really well.

 

[ChaosTheVoid]

Seems like a promising start.

The only good Youjo Senki fic I have read so far, is The Leader by the lord of the land of fire on ff net.

It has a similar premise where Tanya uses her knowledge to become a fascists dictator.

 

[IndirectFire]

What is this? A Youjo Senki thread about how a Germania lost the Great War and is now parallel to a certain and very familiar timeline?

Written by THE Jacobk?

The only thing that could make this more is exciting is if one thing leads to another and she accidentally a unified Germania to a God-fearing thousand year reich. Or if she was to pick up an art-school reject with a hilarious moustache that called her senpai. I had wished for one of the bigger authors to do Youjo Senki for a while now and it's damn good to see it happen.

 

[NewAgeOfPower]

This is entertaining, but I don't feel as grabbed when I read The Leader.

 

[XelianEmperor]

Omg this is disturbing and fascinating at the same time

 

[Core_88]

This is entertaining, but I don't feel as grabbed when I read The Leader.

Click to shrink...

Well that fic kinda murdered Tanyas character sooo.

 

[Sethraw]

We will avoid any problems with failing to keep promises once we're in power through the simple expedient of never taking power because of the other, more insane, portion of our party platform.

Click to shrink...

Of course, knowing Tanya, she will end up doing too good of a job, and accidentally end up with a single-party majority.

 

[Deatstroke]

All the "loli Hittler" jokes will take a new meaning.

Nice to see this get its own thread.

Of course, knowing Tanya, she will end up doing too good of a job, and accidentally end up with a single-party majority.

Click to shrink...

You are thinking too small.

All hail Kaiserlin Tanya!

 

[Robotninja]

By taking an open position in favor of a crazy policy we make sure that we will never be put in a position of power.

Click to shrink...

Oh Tanya. You would think you would have learned better by now.

 

[Jong]

Well i thought that this is a lot closer to the original charactization than The Leader.

The only thing missing is the outside POV which shows the hilarious misunderstanding and shooting self in foot.

 

[krahe]

Nice to see that you decided to post your story in its own thread

 

[IndirectFire]

The only thing missing is the outside POV which shows the hilarious misunderstanding and shooting self in foot.

Click to shrink...

I second this notion. The misunderstandings of Tanya's intentions, hearing the opinions of the misundertanding characters and the consequent stumbling into positions of danger in both the manga and the anime were debatably one of the most amusing element of the IP, especially about the ones involving her appearance as a little girl.

 

[Erebeal]

Well, we do see what seem like some misunderstandings here. Like I'm pretty sure that Visha did not read between the lines like Tanya intended here:

She looked down at the table and chewed on her lip for a moment before replying. "To tear up the treaty of Triano and then win a war... can we really do that?"

It's easy to forget because of her innocent appearance, but Visha has a sharp military mind. She's an ace of aces in her own right and fought beside me on every battlefield imaginable during the war. It's only natural that she would spot how impossible it would be for me to pull off everything I'd promised up on the stage. No matter how stir crazy she feels she's hardly going to sign up to follow a lunatic charging into an unwinnable war.

"What do you think?"

I can't just announce to the whole bar that I've been lying to them all evening, so I'll have to rely on a more subtle Socratic method to tell Visha that I could see what she saw. That rather than plunging the country into war I intend to scam the voters into providing me with a cushy job and if she helps me out then I can extend that cushy lifestyle to her.

"I see," she said, the hesitation vanishing from her eyes. "In that case, I will walk beside you every step of the way!"

Click to shrink...

(or more specifically, she read the wrong lines)

 

[Eddesi]

Tanya did literally nothing wrong.

I hope i will see more of this.

 

[krahe]

Tanya did literally nothing wrong.

Click to shrink...

You're literally Degurechaff

 

[Harren]

I can't imagine the nuns will appreciate that bit of violence, but what they don't know can't bring down an exorcist upon her head. Or the Pope.

Still, how the fuck did she wriggle out of punishment for her actions during the war, will you be calling it the Great War, and will there be ship?

 

[Chronic]

I can't imagine the nuns will appreciate that bit of violence, but what they don't know can't bring down an exorcist upon her head. Or the Pope.

Still, how the fuck did she wriggle out of punishment for her actions during the war, will you be calling it the Great War, and will there be ship?

Click to shrink...

Assuming the situation here parallels WW1 and the Weimar Republic, there were very few trials for German war criminals after that war. The Leipzig War Crimes trials resulted in less than 10 years of prison time for every accused combined, and that included accusations of executing POWs and civilians.

They also only happened a few years after the war, so a stint before a court might still be in Tanyas future, though i'd expect her to exploit that for as much political leverage as she can get. Hitler did the same after all, what with writing Mein Kampf in prison after the beer hall coup.

 

[rx915]

Ok so since the author liked my post then Mary Sioux I assumed has died under Tanya's hands.

It would be nice to have a scene of that final battle if only to do references to famous rivalries and a metal gear boss battle reference though the latter's unlikely unless Mary is the type to say my name is Mary Sioux, you killed my father prepare to die.

 

[Felius]

On the plus side, Tanya should derail most of the worst excesses of Nazi party... Not only the blatant persecutions of religious minorities are wrong, they are wasteful. Same thing for the infighting and Hitler's incompetence.

Assuming the situation here parallels WW1 and the Weimar Republic, there were very few trials for German war criminals after that war. The Leipzig War Crimes trials resulted in less than 10 years of prison time for every accused combined, and that included accusations of executing POWs and civilians.

They also only happened a few years after the war, so a stint before a court might still be in Tanyas future, though i'd expect her to exploit that for as much political leverage as she can get. Hitler did the same after all, what with writing Mein Kampf in prison after the beer hall coup.

Click to shrink...

Besides, Tanya herself didn't explicitly commit warcrmes as much as she violated unspoken conventions and was too effective of a soldier. Thus, instead of actual court time, she gets a clause in the treaty hat might as well have been called "Fuck Degurechaff Clause", forbidding the army or any other part of the government to even employ former aerial mages. It's incredibly blatantly aimed at her specifically.

 

[skaro]

I think of Gintama that parody Trump of "Made Germania great again" thought.

Despite everything,I think the inflation is reasonable point but the war with neighbor is not so much.

I remember in canon Tanya said that Germania can win one on one in fight but not with the great war scenario.

 

[rx915]

I think of Gintama that parody Trump of "Made Germania great again" thought.

Despite everything,I think the inflation is reasonable point but the war with neighbor is not so much.

I remember in canon Tanya said that Germania can win one on one in fight but not with the great war scenario.

Click to shrink...

Gintama did that?

Yes Tanya said the Empire can take on one opponent with their superior army but would lose in a battle of prolonged engagement should other countries join in which leads to war exhaustion.