Stupid Luck and Happenstance, Thread II

[Rinasoir]

Oh I agree with you, but would Harriman or other Presidents?
Because if the South tries ACW 2.0 then the USA are shot on the world stage for a good decade or more. Not to mention what would happen, if say the LON tries to impose peacekeepers on them... How would the mighty of the USA react to that?

Sure we, as the readers, know what is possible and how OTL played out. But for the person ITL the prospect of Civil War, Econoic Hardship and International Nannyhood over them is, Imo, a dark picture and bitter pill to swallow.

It depends on the President. A Harriman or otherwise conservative/centrist Democrat would never be able to do it.

I'm trying not to go full "Yay Team Nixon!" here. But using his TTL character as the example, he is a man with a strong involvement in the Civil Rights movement, if he gets elected President it would probably wind up looking like what RFK was shaping up to be. He is the sort of president who knows that the only way the US can rise back on the world stage is by clearing house first, essentially a TTL Truman 2.0.

Hell, if Truman hadn't needed the South's backing ITTL I'd have expected the issue to have been resolved by him. If he's still alive, you show him advising Nixon/ A Liberal Democrat and that's the character that can do it.

And a ACW 2.0 would end badly for the South, if it even managed to get that far. If nothing else, the US intelligence agencies (by process of elimination at this point if nothing else, I've been doing a re-read and I'm shocked any of them are left) would be able to "disrupt" any potential leadership of such a group with ease.

 

[matzeskatze]

Snip

Again I agree with you as an outside reader.

On the other hand, I am doubting that whoever is President is able to force both Chambers to work with him in sufficent number to do it without harming th nation in the process. And would the person risk that? I know I would probably be averse to do it if I am invested in the system and all that.
Maybe it is only me, but clinging to the status quo is human in some way.

 

[Rinasoir]

Maybe it is only me, but clinging to the status quo is human in some way.

Oh it is, but it just takes someone driven enough to change what the status quo is. Yesterday's revolutionary is tomorrows reactionary and all that jazz.

 

[Dan]

On the other hand, I am doubting that whoever is President is able to force both Chambers to work with him in sufficent number to do it without harming the nation in the process...

Not to start with. Maybe that's how Harriman kicks it off, using Executive Orders?

Of course, finding out that the CSA V2.0 was armed by a Mexican sounding gent, one Jorge Arbusto no less, and that certain Germans, (probably failed Nazis or other etho-state brain donors, probably not just Germans, any European knuckle dragger going to fight for the south will be seen as a "German" - need that Kraut scare in there too), had signed on essentially as mercenaries for the South should be enough to turn not just the rest of the country, but a good chunk of Patriotic Southerners against the secessionists and start to heal the mess.

 

[ejpsan]

What we don't know is what is going to be the reaction by the governments in the Southern States to the ITTL Voter Rights Act, this will tell us a lot on how far things have gone off the rails if they make the IOTL the Selma to Montgomery March look like a pillow fight.
IOTL it was images shown on television and in the front pages of newspapers across the country from the Edmund Pettis Bridge on what was called "Bloody Sunday" that galvanized support for a Voter Rights Act that went further then anyone thought possible.
Imagine that scene times God knows by what factor, and you will have the people out side the South screaming for blood.
As for President Harriman he may decide since the South did not sustain his veto, he is no longer bound to the Corrupt Bargain and he also knows that he is not going to be renominated much less win a third term he may go in to F**K IT Mode and put the Wrath of God on the South.

 

[Peabody-Martini]

Chapter One Thousand Five Hundred Twenty-Four


14th December 1962

Mitte, Berlin

The Holidays were seemingly made for Marie Alexandra. Since she was old enough to follow along, she had loved the stories of Lewis Carroll, even going so far as having a blue dress like the one that Alice wore in the cartoon being her favorite. She felt it was completely tragic that the weather required her to dress warmer than that. Though the big flakes of snow that were falling did make up for it. She had spent several minutes while on the walk to the U-Bahn station looking at them landing on the sleeve of her red wool coat and noticing how the snowflakes had stuck to the dark blue knitted cap that had been a gift from her Great Aunt when she had started attending Kindergarten a few months earlier.

They had taken the subway because the VW Microbus that Poppa used professionally when it wasn’t the family’s main transport was in the shop and Poppa said that Momma’s car was too disgusting to use. Marie had been warned to never say that last part within Momma’s hearing. Apparently, she worked out of her car when she wasn’t in the office which was much of the time. Poppa had told her that she was getting to be too senior for that sort of thing and Momma had just shrugged. Marie was still uncertain as to what that had meant.

During the Christmas Season the colorful lights and decorations lent the city a surreal aspect that it seldom had most of the year. The rest of the time the city was grey and if the sun wasn’t out it seemed to be brooding. Marie thought of Berlin as an old woman with an unpredictable temper. Tonight though, it was nothing like that. She was with her father as they made their way through the streets, she had agreed that she would not let go of his left hand if he allowed her to come along. At this point Marie would have done anything to escape the house, even going on some odd errand with Poppa. Mamma’s dear friend Nancy was staying at the house. While her two daughters were still babies, her son Sabastian was Marie’s age and she had been forced to tolerate him for the previous week. Oddly, when Sabastian wasn’t a frenetic ball of energy flying around the room, he wasn’t completely stupid. Momma said that it was because he was a Schultz boy, the stupid ones tended to get put in a sack and thrown off a bridge. Later, Marie had made the mistake of asking Nancy what that meant. It hadn’t gone over well.

Coming around a corner, Marie saw a red flag that was familiar after spending the previous summer in Montreal flying over the entrance of a building. Upon entering the lobby, they were greeted by a man wearing a brown uniform. Marie remembered a word that Opa Blackwood had used to describe that uniform, Commonwealth forces. Canadian in this case. The guard exchanged a nod with Poppa as they walked towards the elevator.

“Press the button for the third floor” Poppa said as the doors slid closed. “And no others.” He clearly remembered what had happened the last time they had been in an elevator, much to Marie’s disappointment.

Pressing the button with a three on it, Marie was delighted to see it light up and the car started moving upwards.

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

The Agency had not existed a few years prior and it had been one of the things that Doug’s father had been involved with. Sir Malcolm had felt that the RCMP Special Branch’s lack of independence from the National Police was a liability in the future and certain events had proven the wisdom of his position. Service Canadien du Renseignement de Sécuritéh or the SCRS was the result of that. They clearly remembered the role that Doug played during the Second World War and they still called him in occasionally when they wanted his perspective about events in Germany or the Inner Circle of Kaiser Louis Ferdinand.

Today was no different. He had Marie with him and with how she had been enduring the presence of Sabastian Schultz he felt that she deserved a few hours out before she proved herself to be her mother’s daughter and shoved him out a window or whatever else she might consider doing.

The Secretary smiled when Marie entered. “Aren’t you adorable” She said, “Such pretty red hair.”

It was the greeting that Marie always got. The difference was that the Secretary was speaking in Quebecois, language that all of Doug’s children had thought was the private household language of their family. Discovering that it was spoken by thousands of people as they went about their daily lives was quite a shock to them.

“Mister Rome is expecting me” Doug said, “If you don’t mind keeping an eye on Marie for a little bit, she knows if she behaves herself then were going Christmas shopping later. I would suggest that you just not turn your back on her though.”

Marie was all innocence, but Doug had spent too much time around all three of his children to believe that for a second. None of them had ever crossed the line into outright malice, but if there was a button to be pressed, a line to be crossed or a door covered in warning signs to be opened then it was all in good fun.

The Secretary looked at Marie with a bit of trepidation as she asked, “Would you like to see how we make coffee?”

Doug just smiled as he made his way back to the Rome’s office. In a few hours the presence of Marie would just been a bit of amusing gossip around the Embassy. One of the Sir Malcolm Blackwood’s grandchildren would be warmly welcomed here. He would keep this brief anyway.

 

[Rinasoir]

So Doug's now an intelligence asset?

Not gonna be surprised, if nothing else I'm shocked it took this long.

Of course Kat will be fully read in on this, it's basically what Nancy did first time she was in Berlin without the "conning the ither guys of money" part.

 

[Tursiops Amicus]

None of them had ever crossed the line into outright malice, but if there was a button to be pressed, a line to be crossed or a door covered in warning signs to be opened then it was all in good fun.

Your description fits perfectly with my son.

 

[Darth_Kiryan]

And a ACW 2.0 would end badly for the South, if it even managed to get that far. If nothing else, the US intelligence agencies (by process of elimination at this point if nothing else, I've been doing a re-read and I'm shocked any of them are left) would be able to "disrupt" any potential leadership of such a group with ease.

Oh god, please don't tell me we are really expecting a Civil War 2.0. and Nixon of all people is playing Lincoln? The America screw here is a bit much if so.....

Momma said that it was because he was a Schultz boy, the stupid ones tended to get put in a sack and thrown off a bridge. Later, Marie had made the mistake of asking Nancy what that meant. It hadn’t gone over well.

*slow clap.*

So when Marie and Sebastian start dating in the future, Kat will blow a gasket

They clearly remembered the role that Doug played during the Second World War and they still called him in occasionally when they wanted his perspective about events in Germany or the Inner Circle of Kaiser Louis Ferdinand.

So Doug is playing a "back door" intelligence agent.

Bold move there.

 

[Peabody-Martini]

Doug worked for the British SIS during the Second World War. This exchange with Manfred von Richthofen on 23rd of December 1950 explained what happened.

“Thank you for the invitation, Sir” Doug replied.

“It’s Käte who you should thank” The Graf said, “I went along this time because you interested me.”

“Me, Sir”

“Yeah” The Graf said, “How many men can say that they got conscripted while getting shot at by the enemy?”

“Not many I’d imagine.”

“What did come of that anyway?” The Graf asked.

“I went to the Canadian Embassy in Berlin and told them that I was embedded with the 4th Panzer Division” Doug replied, “That getting back to Montreal was going to be a bit tricky for me.”

“What happened next?”

“They said they would get back to me.”

“How long did that take?”

“I’m still waiting.”

The Graf laughed at that. “Sounds like the paper pushers in the Canadian Army are the same as the ones in Wunsdorf-Zossen.”

That was almost the truth. Doug had only told Kat the full story. When Doug had graduated early from University in Montreal he’d boarded a freighter bound for Europe figuring that he’d make a name for himself as an independent photojournalist and he was admittedly looking for adventure. There was plenty of work to go around and Doug had found himself sent to the front where he had eventually stumbled across a Platoon with Oberfeldwebel Hans Mischner as its acting leader in early 1943. The Canadian Army wouldn’t arrive in force until the following summer when they joined the British and French. That was right around the time that Doug had gotten his draft notice. The Canadian Government hadn’t gotten back to him, but the British SIS had. They had wanted him to stay exactly where he was while they smoothed things out for him.

Doug had been counted as a reservist in the Canadian Army while he supplied the SAS with thousands of photographs detailing German tactics and equipment. Any obligation he had to them had ended when the war had. Kat was the only person he had ever told about any of it. He suspected that his father knew but was staying silent for obvious reasons.

 

[FBKampfer]

Ship sighted, captain!

 

[Peabody-Martini]

Oh god, please don't tell me we are really expecting a Civil War 2.0. and Nixon of all people is playing Lincoln? The America screw here is a bit much if so.....

That is the speculation, though I've said all along that ACW 2.0 is such a cliche that I have things that are so much better planned...

 

[Rinasoir]

That is the speculation, though I've said all along that ACW 2.0 is such a cliche that I have things that are so much better planned...

I'd hope so cause, and I mean no offence, I'd stop reading if you went that route.

 

[EWilanO]

Let me guess, there will be a war between the Second Mexican Empire, Canada and the US, where Canada and Mexico are allied and the Casus Beli will be an act of sabotage against the Strategic Maple Syrup Reserve.

And don't forget the ANZAC expeditionary corps of Emu-mounted dragoons that will be crucial in Mexico winning the battle of the LLano Estacado.

 

[weasel_airlift]

And don't forget the ANZAC expeditionary corps of Emu-mounted dragoons that will be crucial in Mexico winning the battle of the LLano Estacado.

Unfortunately, Australia lost in the Second Emu war, and all were driven into the desert ahead of the marauding poultry. The few survivors are currently eking out a Mad Max style civilization.

 

[Peabody-Martini]

Unfortunately, Australia lost in the Second Emu war, and all were driven into the desert ahead of the marauding poultry. The few survivors are currently eking out a Mad Max style civilization.

The 2nd Emu War has to be factored into any timeline. The surrender of the Australian State to their Emu overlords was inevitable. That said, all kidding aside. My understanding is that the Mad Max films are set in contemporary Australia, it is just what happens when Ausies get lost in the outback.

 

[Peabody-Martini]

Chapter One Thousand Five Hundred Twenty-Five


17th December 1962

Mitte, Berlin

It was an unusual referral. Then again, most referrals didn’t come with Imperial letterhead, though she could have cared less about that. Minke Glas had taken the case on because it was intriguing. Kristina von Preussen had failed the standard Persistent Traumatic Stress testing that was being done on returning Officers who had been in combat for more than one thousand hours. It was an experimental program and not without controversy. To keep the Military High Command on side, the results were confidential and nonbinding. That had still caused several problems because it seemed like the most promising young Officers tended to be the ones who ran afoul of the testing protocols. It had implied that there was a serious problem with training from their perspective. Minke had a very different take, there was something about being involved with violence that broke something inside of people and the very things that made them good leaders made them more susceptible for that sort of psychological damage.

Kristina was an odd case though for a lot of reasons. The fact that she had pushed herself to the very limits of human endurance and this business of completely ignoring personal danger suggested that more than traumatic stress was involved. It was almost as if she had been doing penance rather than just serving in the FSR. Since she had gotten back from Korea Kristina had reported nightmares, insomnia and had engaged in mildly self-destructive behavior. Her personal physician had noted that she had isolated herself by making what many would consider a rather drastic change in her accommodations.

While Minke wanted to hear it from Kristine herself, it was going to be fascinating to see how she explained herself. Her obvious feelings of inadequacy and how that was all bound up in her being quite literally a Princess. Somehow, her desire to not be seen as using the status of her birth to advance her career had resulted in her being in the precarious position of having it all just go away.

Kristina’s Stepmother Charlotte had said that she was living on a boat that was currently moored behind the Imperial War Museum less than a kilometer from the Winter Residence. Most of time her only companion was an elderly housecat. According to the security detail that the BII had watching her, once a day she would walk to the market to purchase whatever she needed and then would spend the rest of the day either on the boat or in the museum. Kristina had spent six months working as an aide to the General who had overseen the establishment of the museum, so most of the Staff was happy to let her moor her boat on the concrete embankment close to the submarine that was on display. If Minke was being cynical, she would say that the museum was going out of their way to accommodate the daughter of one of their most powerful patrons.

Stepping onto the deck of the boat, the Meta. Possibly short for Margaret but possibly Metapher. Minke wondered what Karl Jung or Sigmund Freud would make of that name. It was a bit of an amusing thought. There was a short smokestack sticking up through the roof of the cabin that had smoke coming from it, meaning that someone was home. Knocking on the door on the side of the pilot house, Minke saw that the all the windows had curtains covering them. After a minute, one of the curtains parted and Minke saw a face peek out. The door unlocked and Kristina stepped out.

“Just who are you?” Kristina asked.

“Doctor Minke Glas, the Psychiatrist who was referred to your case” Minke said as she fished one of the seldom used business cards out of her purse and handed it to Kristina. “Your Stepmother asked for me specifically.”

“Why would she do something like that?” Kristina asked as she brushed snow off the chair that was sitting on the deck before sitting down in it. Considering how cold it was, Minke had no desire to sit down. Having the option of stomping her feet to restore circulation seemed desirable this afternoon.

“I was able to help the younger sister of one of the women in her inner circle a few years ago” Minke replied.

Kristina looked a bit put out by that. “I wish that Charlotte had just left me alone” She said.

“She doesn’t want to see you to have a professional failure at this point in your life.”

“It’s a bit late for that” Kristina replied.

“I would disagree Kristina” Minke said, “You still have a year of active service left, there are those who want to see you go back and progress further. If that is what you want to do.”

Kristina gave her an incredulous look that suggested that she didn’t believe that. One more thing that they would need to work on, Minke thought to herself. It seemed like if Kristina had trouble accepting her own worth. There had to be an angle here that Minke could use because she figured that if there was one thing that Kristina would not like talking about was herself. At first anyway.

“Is it peaceful, down here on the river?” Minke asked, “Is that why you like it?”

Kristina hesitated for a second before answering.

“To a degree” Kristina replied, “Down this river, past where it runs into the Havel there are lakes is where it gets really quiet. Anchored out there, I don’t have to worry about having unexpected guests either.”

“That does sound a bit romantic” Minke said, “If self-love is your thing.”

Kristina frowned, that was clearly not what she was getting at. As Minke had discovered over the prior decade when dealing with the stubborn sort that had overcome things that no one should ever have to, challenging them directly was the usually the best way to get them to talk to her.

 

[WalterEKurtz]

I do hope that in 10 years, Kiki can look back on her life and see how much she lives in her own world. She's quite wise about a lot of things, but is really blind to her own faults and successes. Then again, most people are really bad at that!

Also, I find myself not rooting for Kiki as much as I did for Emil and Kat. I still want good things to happen to her, but it's way less intense. I do believe this feeling originates from proper characterization of Kiki. PM has really shown us that Kiki comes from a very privileged background, and still has her own struggles. But that privilege does make me feel like she will be alright, almost no matter what happens to her. Or at least career wise. Emotionally, I root for her way more, I want to see her be happy and enjoying herself. But in the end, I haven't really bonded with her as a character as much as I have with Emil and Kat.

Whether this is a good thing or not, can be up for debate. as you generally want your readers to be invested into your "main" character. I believe it to be a good thing in this case. The reason for that is it shows Kiki to be a real person, who can be liked or disliked (Eventhough most of us still quite like her). But also the dichotomy of me caring for her emotional stability and happiness compared to the lack of investment into her career advancement shows that she can be liked as well as disliked, making her a more complex character.

All in all, I like Kiki and I really love the story(and its direction), and eventhough I don't like all of Kiki as a person, I do really like her as a character.

 

[ejpsan]

I see the main motivation for Kiki is fear, as a very young girl Peabody-Martini has posted that she had a fascination with both the French and Russian Revolutions especially with the fates of the Royal Families.
Having Gia around was living proof of the possibilities that could happen to her if her family was deposed and sent in to exile, coupled with the fact that also at an early age Kiki understood the implications of a Soviet victory and probably had some nightmares where it was her at a farm in British Columbia running thru the woods in the snow getting shot at by the agents of Stalin.
What I think Kiki wants to prove is that despite of being a Princess, she is very useful to society and only by pushing herself to the limit can she save herself and her family from what happened to the Bourbons and the Romanovs but in her mind it is never enough.

 

[Peabody-Martini]

Chapter One Thousand Five Hundred Twenty-Six


21st December 1962

Mitte, Berlin

Sitting on the deck of the Meta Kiki had a front row seat of what happened across the river. Smoke and dust came billowing up from between the buildings up the river off to the south. Seconds later came the roar of the explosion and Kiki felt the barge rock as the big bay windows on the back of the museum rattled.

In the course of events, you will have a duty to respond. Kiki was reminded of that as she watched, she was also acutely aware that she had no idea what was going on. The Berlin East Railway Station was over there, so it could be an accident of some kind. Rushing into the saloon, Kiki threw open one of the lockers that was under the floor. She yanked her field pack out from where she had stored it and it seemed much heavier than she remembered. Two items that she felt reluctant to grab were the pistol and the gas mask that she had never needed in Korea. The memories of her shooting into the night months earlier came to mind, but Kiki’s Instructors drilling the idea that she be prepared for anything until she understood exactly what she was dealing with.

Kicking off her shoes, Kiki pulled on the steel-toed hobnailed boots. Then with movements that had become automatic through long practice, she put on the flak vest over the parka that she was already wearing and the belt which had the holstered pistol on it among other things went on over that. She avoided looking at the pistol as she buckled it around her waist, it was somewhat dismaying that she needed to pull it tighter than she had worn it in Korea. That meant she had lost weight again and Berg would give her an earful when she found out. Pulling the straps of her pack over her shoulders, Kiki walked towards the ladder up to the pilot house. The blue beret that hanging on its peg, Kiki had taken it off a few weeks earlier and had not thought any more about it. Today it felt right to put it back on.

Minutes later, Kiki was walking towards the nearest bridge crossing the river. When the BII Agents who had been tasked with giving her a loose protection detail caught up with her.

“We can’t let go any further” The Lead Agent said as he tried to keep up with the brutal pace that Kiki was keeping, “Our orders are to get you to a safe place until we know what we are dealing with.”

“That’s not happening” Kiki replied as she kept walking.

“Princess Kristina” The Agent said stepping in front of her, “We are not asking.”

Kiki gave him a smile that could have frozen water, the perfect way of letting him know that he clearly had more nerve than sense. “I outrank you in every respect. You can help me, or you can get out of my way.”

“Threats are not going to get you anywhere” The Agent said.

“That was a promise” Kiki replied vehemently. The Agent gulped, they were aware that she had gotten through FSR training and that she was perfectly capable of dismantling an offensive BII Agent who had overstepped his authority.

That was when the streets were rocked by a second explosion.

As the Agents stared at the cloud of smoke rising over the city.

“Do you see that?” Kiki yelled, “That was aimed at people responding to the first blast. You said that you wanted to know what we are dealing with, there was your answer.”

That seemed to end the argument.

With that Kiki started walking in the direction of the explosions. Much to her annoyance, the BII Agents kept following her. Why had she mentioned that they had the option of helping her? After walking several blocks, they started seeing damage to the buildings. The East Railway Station was a completely shattered wreck. The only time in the past that she had seen destruction on this level had been when she had been in Andong, where every building had been gutted by fire and they were all falling in on themselves. This looked just as bad. Looking into a car that had been crushed by falling rubble, Kiki saw that the driver was pressed hard against the steering wheel. His skull was caved in and just looking she could see that he was already dead. He didn’t use a seatbelt, Kiki thought to herself as she saw that is was hanging next to the door post. Pressing on, there was a man wearing the green uniform of the Berlin Police and he was still bleeding. Without thinking about it, Kiki rushed forward and saw that he had a hole in his chest. No sooner than she registered that then dust was kicked up by her feet and the sound of a bullet ricocheting reached her ears. Someone was shooting at her and the BII Agents were yelling at her to get back to the alley where they were sheltering. Grabbing the policeman under his arms she pulled him towards the alley. Something hit Kiki’s chest and she was knocked over backwards. Getting back to her feet, Kiki pulled the policeman into the alley.

“That was stupid” The BII Agent said as Kiki cut open the policeman’s shirt. She saw that it was a hole that had blood seeping out of it. There had been talk of equipping the police with armored vests similar to those worn by the military, that would have prevented this injury. Looking at her own vest, Kiki pulled the bullet that had hit her out of the fabric that had melted around it. Nine-millimeter if she had to guess, there would probably be a massive bruise caused by that. At least whoever was shooting at them didn’t have a rifle.