Outside Sohvi's office, USS Charlotte E. YeagerSilence. A matter that never seems to exist wherever Adela was around. And yet, ever since the mayhem caused by her old squadron, silence seems to be all she was capable of at this moment. Whether it was mealtime, training or recreation, she had never made a single word beyond work-related conversations, and even in those rare moments, her tone sounded awfully cold and robotic. It was like every bit of her fiery personality just dissolved away. Even her eyes did not seem to blaze in any instance.
Standing in front of Sohvi's quarters, the listless witch looked pale and zombified, a virtual drone devoid of any emotion. A paper in her hand, she seem to have a word for her. Her blank eyes shifting back to the note in her hand, she could not help but recall the words of her commander back then.
'
Let me handle Stefanija,' Ljiljana's words whispered in her mind, '
I won't let anyone hurt you, especially not her. I don't know if the truth is still too much for you to handle, but I won't force you to recall. However, I suggest you leave this ship before that illusion shatters completely. I see the fragments leaking in as it is. I can't bear to see you torture yourself even more.'
"The truth..." she uttered in a flat voice, "what is truth?... Everybody lies...
Everybody..."
Rector's Palace, Dubrovnik, Republic of IllyriaDubrovnik, on the Adriatic coast. Once the seat of power of Republic of Ragusa, the city now played host to the newly formed Illyria. Devouring much of Ostmark and Venezia's coastal territories in the light of the Neuroi incursion, the Sisters of Illyria now had the backing they needed to legitimize their power. But even after the establishment of a provisional government, few in the new nation was under any illusion over the true master - or mistress - of Illyria. Transforming the old Rector's palace into a makeshift headquarters, Marshall Stefanija Trpimirović, former terrorist mastermind of the Sisters of Illyria, was now the leader in a national struggle for independence against her former colonial masters. Gazing into the calm Adriatic seas, she could not help but relish the effects of her war.
"And just like that, the vultures has arrived to pick at the Hapsburgs' bones," she remarked, holding a glass of cognac as she admired the scenery, "hypocrisy knows no bounds."
"I'm sure if you'd attacked the Yeager as planned, the entire world would arrive to crush us," a voice broke out from the entrance, a figure stepping in at a silent creak, "I didn't think you'd be that desperate. Or rather, you expect me to
succeed."
A faint frown flashing on her mouth, Stefanija quickly put back her game face as she turned to back the woman in question. Still dressed in her Carabinieri uniform, Stefanija quietly observed the Orthodox nun questioning her. Playfully tapping at her head, she quipped, "for someone who has first dibs on a person's thoughts, you don't seem very quick to decipher me. Or is it because your powers are waning with age that you aren't able to read as much as you could, Milovanovic?"
Ljiljana made no effort to hide her spite, she knew she had caught on too late to Stefanija's true intentions. Sending a troupe to sink the Yeager, Stefanija deliberately leaked the information for Ljiljana to act, hoping her instincts would play into her hands. True enough, Ljiljana rushed to keep her beloved girl safe, while Stefanija herself presented her vision of the new Illyria to the world. As a result, she was able to fill the new provisional government with a large number of Croatian cronies, most, if not all, at her beck and call. While she could justify the cause that Ostmark still had Serbia under her control, the fact was that she had other plans for Illyria.
"I did not fight to replace one absolutist with another, Marshall," the nun remarked coldly, "I did not fight to free my people only to have the words 'Croatia' plastered over the lands of Belgorod. This nation belongs equally to the children of the Balkans, not to a daughter of Trpimir. You best know your place, woman. Or you won't have this nation intact."
Smirking, Stefanija cautioned, "you believe you can fight on your own, nun? If you haven't noticed, the world itself is now jostling to become Illyria's new masters. If you wish to become a puppet for Liberion or Orussia, be my guest. I'll see how their 'liberation' breaks your people like it broke the Afghans. I do not intend to have Illyria follow that same path. I assure you, as long as you behave, you will not have to bow your head to any foreign yoke ever again.
Foreigners, anyway..."
Her fists tightening at her words, the nun had half the mind to knock the Croat's smile off her face and gouge her eyes out. However, doing so would risk having Illyria overrun by Ostmark and her allies, or forcing the country to become one of the many satellites in the other powers' great game. She understood that she herself lacked the charisma to become a true leader, but to have Stefanija step up her own plans was heresy for her. In the end, Ljiljana could only relent that fighting her now would be futile. She would have to think of another way, and fast.
"Fine," she conceded, forcing her feet to tear away towards the door, "have it your way."
The Croatian revelled as the nun backed out in a begrudged expression. She understood the nun's weaknesses fully well. A woman who operated from the shadows, Ljiljana was not adept at politics. Out of all the Sisters in the group, only Stefanija had the legitimacy and skills to rally the Sisters and Illyria to open resistance. As the girl began to depart, however, the Croatian decided to make one last gloat.
"By the way, nun," she arrogantly told Ljiljana, "the Ostmark military is recalling all their witches from all fronts. They've been angered by the world's betrayal, and they'll rather have the Neuroi raze humanity to the ground without their aid. How do you think this would affect your doll?"
Ljiljana paled in horror at her words. She had realized now the implications of their actions. While Adela's loyalties were far from conflicted, her father's position left her with some dismal options. With orders from Vienna to withdraw all support in humanity's resistance against the Neuroi, Adela would have to choose between desertion or death by Illyrian hands. Given the girl's state of mind at this point, the nun was uncertain at what the Dacian would do now. Hiding her dismayed look, Ljiljana heaved a sigh. Her voice struggled to hold together, she merely responded in a curt voice.
"She's made of stronger things than this," she stated, "I didn't pick her for nothing..."
And with that, Ljiljana was gone, her disposition clearly more frail than before. She understood that doing nothing would allow Stefanija to consolidate her power, the heiress of the dynasty determined to reclaim the crown they lost to the Hungarians. But removing her too early would threaten Illyria's independence in the future, forcing her to become yet another vassal for Liberion or Orussia. All in all, the rebellion was timed to suit Stefanija's needs, not so much the nation as a whole. For her to prevent Illyria from becoming a Croatian hegemony, she would have to think of something, and act carefully...