Twilight and Shadows

[Alex]

Kremlin Arsenal, Kremlin, Moscow City​ The day had barely dawned as she entered one of the conference rooms of the Kremlin Arsenal. Seated around the long table were several high-ranking officials of the Russian Empire: Prime Minister Chernomyrdin; Minister of Defense Igor Sergeyev; Minister of Internal Affairs Vladimir Rushailo; Chief of the General Staff Anatoly Kvashnin; and the newly appointed Director of the Federal Security Service Vadim Bakatin. Upon her arrival they rose in unison to bow. “Be seated, please.” Catherine took her own seat at the head of the table. “I am told that there is a lot to discuss. Let’s begin with the most important: Minister Rushailo, you stated that you believe my life may be at risk from internal threats. I imagine you have more information than this?” The Minister would adjust his posture within the chair before opening a thick file and sliding it to her. “Yes, Your Imperial Majesty, it is the belief of the Ministry of Internal Affairs and the FSS that the various leaders of the now banned parties and ideologies have gathered supporters across western Russia and have expressed extreme hatred towards the current government and you specifically. Some of this hatred has been expressed through threats of bodily harm.” The Tsarina would flip through the many pages of the file. She recognized many of the names and a few of the faces, many were the same who supported her during the civil war. “It should also be noted that during the war, many weapons that belonged to the armed forces have failed to be accounted for. It’s likely that they have landed within black markets and could be sold to these people. These include pistols, rifles, explosives, machine guns, the list is quite extensive.” Vadim Bakatin would budge in. “The risk is too great to ignore, Your Imperial Majesty. Something must be done, preferably while you are safe overseas.” “I agree.” Her friend Chernomyrdin placed his hand on hers. “If an attempt on your life is made, or anyone in this government, it may harm the thin stability that we have been able to uphold following the war.” Catherine took a deep breath. “I recognize these names. Many of these people supported me when all I held was St. Petersburg. Now they’re threatening my life. We should have taken care of these snakes before this even had a chance to be speculated.” The monarch would look at the men’s faces. “Russia cannot and will not be home to vile ideologies of oppression and exploitation - communism, fascism, nazism - these people must be dealt with for more reasons than their threats to my life. They are like weeds and if we do not root them quick enough they will have spread further and deeper than we will be able to contain.” The woman would place her arms beneath the table, resting the shaking hands on her lap. “Vadim Bakatin, with my authority, you are granted the power to eliminate these men by any means necessary. This extends to all high-ranking members of their little cabals, their friends and family if need be. With the Nazbols in Omsk, the Stalinists in the Urals, and the terrorists in the south, more instability is not affordable.” “I will do everything that is necessary, Your Imperial Majesty, to protect your life and our motherland.” A man like Bakatin was to never be doubted. “What other concerns were there?” The Tsarina asked. “Minister Sergeyev?” He would clear his throat. “Yes, Your Imperial Majesty. Concerns globally are shifting towards the Kingdom of Sweden and their actions in South Africa and Turkey and ally Saudi Arabia in the region of the Levant. With Turkey’s new… ideology, it is believed that war is imminent in the Middle East. But worse, it is a known fact that the Grey Wolves are aiding the Chechen terrorists’ efforts in the Caucasus region. The Grey Wolves are a group involved in various massacres and bombings and a group that is highly supported in Turkey’s government, something that the previous Turkish government openly admitted to me. With ultranationalism being Turkey’s governance now, it is a concern that they may support these Grey Wolves more directly - posing a high risk against Russian stability.” “The West is also getting involved in the Levant.” Anatoly Kvashnin would add. “In what capacity, we are still not sure, but if war does break out, it will likely spread much further than the Middle East.” “I will not involve Russia in a war that does not concern us.” She was clear. “The situations in Africa and the Middle East will have to be dealt with without us. However, I will also not feed a war. From this moment forth, all weapon exports to the Kingdom of Sweden, the Kingdom of Saudi Arabia, the Republic of Turkey, and the nations of the Levant are to be halted and forbidden until further notice.” “Understood.” Minister Sergeyev obeyed. Although Catherine noticed that General Kvashnin seemed almost disappointed. “Additionally,” she would add, “all Russian forces in and around the Black Sea are to be placed on high alert of potential Turkish actions in the region. Immediate retaliation is to be taken if Turkish forces enter Russian space.” This seemed to please Kvashnin, a warhound, it would seem. “Anything else?” Vadim Bakatin would rise from his seat. “Yes, something that has recently come to my attention, Your Imperial Majesty.” From his waistcoat’s pocket he would pull out the piece of paper with various dots of information written on it. “I have gotten off the phone with my old friend Volodymyr Radchenko, current Director of the Ukrainian Security Service - he is requesting Russian aid against a coup orchestrated by the Ministry of Defense.” He would pass the paper along the table, finally reaching the Tsarina. She would read it as he continued to speak. “I don’t think I have to explain why allowing this coup to occur is a threat to the safety of Russia and its influence, having ultranationalists not only in Turkey but also Ukraine will put a strain on our resources and diplomacy with those nations. We must assure that the legal Ukrainian government remains in power.” “This is… extremely concerning, Director Bakatin.” Catherine would finally say after putting the piece of paper down. “You have my authority, Vadim. Please work with Prime Minister Chernomyrdin and assure that our Slavic brothers do not fall to the same woes that have affected us here. Whatever the Ukrainians need, give it to them.” With that said, Tsarina Catherine III stood from her seat and exited the room, heading off to her flight to her hometown of Boston.

 

[Alex]

Holy Epiphany Orthodox Church, Boston, Mass.​ Things had finally calmed in Russia enough for her to leave for a short time, although doing so certainly didn’t feel right. But she had to, she wanted to bring her mother back to Russia and she had someone to pay a visit to back in her hometown. Not to mention that she had plans to visit the White House and have a meeting with President Gore in-person at some point or another. These busy days were going to be the norm for the rest of her life it would seem… at least she was doing some good. The plane had left Moscow in the early morning, before the sun had even risen over the horizon. It was the most luxurious aircraft she had ever seen: wooden interior, polished furniture, cushioned seats, padded windows, and even an office and a personal room to sleep in. Other than the two pilots and a flight attendant, she was all alone in the journey. It was the perfect place and time to catch up on sleep, something she had been lacking in the past seven months. The Tsarina had only eaten once during the twelve hour trip, slipping in and out of sleep before the Il-96-300PU landed on the runway of Logan International Airport. From there there was a private car that would bring her through Boston. Driving through the city again was exactly what she needed to raise up her spirits: the museums, the schools, all the familiar locations. When they drew closer to her childhood neighborhood she signaled for the driver to stop in front of the church on the corner. “That will be all for today,” she told him, “thank you.” Dressed in somewhat baggy clothing and sunglasses in an attempt to blur her identity, she walked up the stairs of the Holy Epiphany Church and peeked through the door. Noticing that the Nave was empty, she entered. The woman walked towards the Sanctuary, stopping below the horos. Catherine looked up into the dome and there he was, depiction of Christ, Ruler of the Universe. What a burden that must be. Before she could take another step, a familiar voice echoed from behind her. “Maria? Is that you?” Catherine quickly turned, it was the first time she had been called by her birth name in months. “Your Reverence.” She addressed him with a smile. Her appearance seemed to surprise him in a bad way, his face turned to anxiety. “Your Majesty!” he called out before. “What are you doing here?” “Please, just call me Maria.” Hearing her birth name was a luxury that she did not want to lose. “I am here as a woman of Christ, Your Reverence. I am here to confess before Him.” The man appeared confused. “But you’re the Tsarina, Maria. It was Him that gave you the throne, you have nothing to confess.” “I’m not here to confess as Catherine, Your Reverence, I’m here as Maria.” She sighed. “I have never confessed before, may I receive guidance?” “Of course, Maria. Please, follow me.” He placed her on her knees before the analogion and Christ on the cross. On the analogion he would lay a Gospel Book and a blessing cross. Archpriest Sidorov would kneel on her left and would place his hand upon her shoulder as she leaned her face over the Gospel and the cross. “Confess, Maria.” He would tell her. “Leave nothing out, He will know.” She did as he told her. “I seek to confess my wrongdoings, my sins, and seek forgiveness before you Christ.” Her throat began to cramp up and tears built in her eyes. “I…” The tears fell. “I have killed a man… and left a dozen more to die. I have ordered the deaths of… too many.” She would choke up, attempts to get words out became difficult through the weeping. “I ask that you guide them towards your Kingdom for they have done no worse than I: Maria Romanov.” ***​ Following her confession she took the short walk to her childhood home. The cul-de-sac was the same as before she left and so was her mother’s house. Its grey panels and celadon green door seemed so alien to her now, as though she no longer belonged here. The house’s fresh cut lawn filled her mind with the memories she had made playing tag and other games with her neighborhood friends. It seemed like it was a lifetime ago now. These memories were all that would be left of Maria Romanov, the American college girl, so quickly replaced by Catherine III, Tsarina of Russia. She feared what kind of memories she would have of this new woman, this holy idol. Without further hesitation, she knocked upon the door.