I follow the Moskva

Down to Gorky Park

Listening to the wind of change

An August summer night

Soldiers passing by

Listening to the wind of change

The world is closing in

Did you ever think

That we could be so close, like brothers

The future's in the air

I can feel it everywhere

Blowing with the wind of change

Take me to the magic of the moment

On a glory night

Where the children of tomorrow dream away

In the wind of change

Scorpions - “Winds of Change”

Leandra Singh had her professional smile ready when the Deputy Dhyaksh appeared on the monitor.

“Prime Minister,” Chikkij Kowzhach said respectfully, bowing her head. “To what do I owe the honor?”

“I wished to thank you for keeping the Dhyaksh focused on the mission at hand,” she replied, bowing her head in return. “It would seem your efforts have been successful.”

“In fact, it required very little on my part,” the Khonhim smiled. “Jiyazh Ghuuyaz may be a passionate warrior, but he is no fool. He understands all too well the dangers of dividing one's forces. In fact...I recall him making a comment regarding Marshal Fujimoto once. He claimed she had gotten ‘Lucky’ in the first war when she did just that.”

“She would be the first person to agree with that statement,” Leandra chuckled. “Those were desperate times, and it forced us to take risks we would normally avoid at all costs.”

“I understand,” Chikkij said. “It seems both our peoples have been in that position many times since we first met.”

“Indeed,” the Prime Minister said thoughtfully. “Deputy Kowzhach...the last time we spoke, you asked me what happens next, should we defeat our common enemy?” There still was no agreement on what to call the Masters/Evil Ronin, so Leandra stuck with ambiguous language when they came up in conversation. They really needed to address that at some point.

“Yes?” the Khonhim answered. “Have you given some thought to that?”

“I have,” Leandra smiled. “In fact, I have been thinking of little else as of late. We both agreed that the current state of affairs cannot continue...which leaves us two options, one being something we both wish to avoid.”

“...war,” Chikkij Kowzhach whispered.

Leandra nodded. “Twice now we’ve fought and left death and chaos in our wake. Should we battle a third time...it can end only with a single survivor.” She looked unhappy at that admission. “Believe me when I say I have no more love for that choice than you do, but if I am given no other alternative, I will go to war once again to protect those I serve...no matter what my personal feelings may be.”

The Khonhim Deputy was silent for some time as she considered those words. “You mentioned two options,” she said at last.

“So I did,” she smiled. “Neither of us wishes war, and yet the peace treaties we have in place are little more than band-aids. We could return to the negotiating table to debate and haggle yet again, or we could instead seek something more...permanent.”

Chikkij’s eyebrows rose at that. “You have my attention, Prime Minister. Just what is it you are suggesting?”

She laid out her proposal, the Khonhim’s eyes widening with each point she raised. Chikkij Kowzhach kept her questions brief and on topic until the Prime Minister had finished. “So...what do you think?” she asked.

“I think...you should not be having this discussion with me,” she said, “but Jiyazh Ghuuyaz. He is Dhyaksh, not I.”

“He is,” she agreed, “but did he not give you full autonomy to act in his stead?” the Tetrarchy leader probed.

“Prime Minister, what you are suggesting is a fundamental shift in our relationship,” the Khonhim chided, “one that will affect both our peoples for centuries. You cannot expect me to do this without even consulting the Dhyaksh.”

Leandra sighed. “No...I suppose not, though I worry about his reaction...as you said, he is a man divided. A proposal this radical…”

“...I know,” Chikkij sighed. “I must...consider this, Prime Minister,” she said thoughtfully, “and determine how to proceed.”

“I understand,” Leandra nodded. “I have a few of those same concerns on my end.”

“...have you lost your damn mind?”

The Prime Minister sighed. “Somehow I knew that would be your reaction, Hélène.”

“I can’t imagine why,” the Marshal scoffed, “other than it’s insane!”

“Insane? Insane would be to leave things as they are, without attempting to improve them.” Leandra Singh said. “We have a golden opportunity before us, and we dare not waste it.”

“Forget it,” Fujimoto snarled. “You can’t trust them. Haven’t enough of our people already died proving that very point?”

“And yet you are preparing to launch the biggest assault ever conceived, with the Khonhim right at our side,” she smirked.

“Which only goes to show you just how desperate we are,” the Marshal countered. “If I thought we could go it alone I’d do it in a heartbeat.”

“But we can’t,” she fired back, “and who knows what else is out there? Hélène, we are stronger united than we are divided.”

Hélène pointed an accusing finger. “This is the reason for all those back-channel conversations with the Deputy Dhyaksh,” she said in sudden realization. “Admit it! You’ve been testing the waters all along.”

“And what if I have been?” the Prime Minister snapped. “Just what is it you think I do? You may not like politics, but it’s what holds the Tetrarchy together...even more so than your military.”

“Well, I refuse to be a part of it,” Fujimoto sneered. “You do this, and you’ll do it without me.”

Leandra rose to her feet. “Think carefully before you issue ultimatums, Hélène,” she said. “I will give you one chance to retract that statement.”

Field Marshal Hélène Fujimoto, Supreme Military Commander of the Tetrarchy Armed Forces, folded her arms across her chest...and said nothing.

Something clicked behind Leandra’s eyes. “So be it,” she said. “Once this war is over and we have completed Phalange...I will expect your resignation on my desk.”

The two women stared daggers at one another, before the Marshal turned on her heel and stormed out of the Prime Minister’s office without a word.

Admiral Otxoa found Jiyazh Ghuuyaz on the Observation deck, staring at the stars, lost in his own universe. She moved beside him, gazing out into the depths of space until he turned and acknowledged her.

“And what brings you up here?” he asked.

“I could ask you the same question,” she answered.

The old warrior sighed. “Seeking answers,” he mumbled.

Adelais nodded at that. “Find any?”

“The stars seem strangely silent,” he chuckled, before handing over something on official letterhead.

The Admiral perused the document. While she couldn’t make heads or tails of the portion written in the Khonhim tongue, the section in English was plain as day. She gave out a low whistle before handing it back. “The Prime Minister doesn’t do things by halves, does she?”

“She does not,” he agreed, setting the document aside. “Which brings me here...seeking answers.”

“Well...if you’d asked me about it six months ago, I’d have laughed in your face,” she said after a moment. “Now?” The Admiral shrugged. “It makes a strange sense.”

“Oh, yes...Leandra’s arguments are all reasonable,” the Dhyaksh said in disgust, “so much so that my Deputy urges me to accept.”

“Then what’s the problem?” Otxoa asked.

“...that it feels wrong,” he whispered, as he strode out of the compartment, leaving her in solitude.

The Admiral glanced down at the papers he’d left behind, picking them up and reading the banner once again:

PROPOSED: ADMITTANCE OF THE KHONHIM MONARCHY TO THE TETRARCHY REPUBLIC.