November 18, 1971
I stared out at New York from my balcony as the first snow of 1971 fell and dusted the streets. I gripped my sweater tightly around my shoulders and smiled. I loved winter. Last year it was unbearably cold, but weather predictions think it will be milder this year. Though Christmas was still well over a month away, it was getting cold again. I could only hope our soldiers up north would handle this winter better. Our new weapons had arrived at the capital and they would be shipped off to the front. My ankle-length royal blue dress fluttered in the wind. Vittorio had returned to Italy months ago and since then, no calls, no letters, nothing. It was as though we had never known each other.
My anxieties about his activities in Italy have tremendously increased. He constantly reassured me that he is devoted to me, and me only, though I do have my doubts. Due to the war, my focus being my soldiers, and crushing the rebellion, which had been dragging on for a whole year now, Vittorio and I had not consummated our marriage, which I could tell he was unhappy about. But I wasn't about to give up my innocence when I feared he was unfaithful.
I was actually starting to settle back into my unmarried life. I hardly wore my wedding ring anymore because I hardly saw my husband. I really hope that doesn't sound selfish, considering he is King of the Italians, but still, I would hope I was entitled to a letter once a week!
Boom. Pop. Boom.
I jolted at the sound of what sounded like gunfire and cannons. They were very distant, but towards the north I could see puffs of grapeshot.
"What the hell?" I muttered to myself.
West Point was our nearest military installation, but that was 56 miles away, there is no way I'd be able to hear cannon fodder from that far away. At best this is a military exercise. At worst some idiots decided to fire off some of the cannons. If that is the case, I can guarantee that someone will catch hell for it.
"Your majesty!?" Someone frantically asked.
I turned and my serenity was abruptly cut short when I turned to see a frantic Lord Corbon.
"Lord Corbon, what is the meaning of this... uninvited arrival?" I asked.
His facial expression was grave.
"Your majesty, rebel forces are 50 miles from the Capital,"
Wait, what!?
"I'm sorry, excuse me!?" I demanded.
"Rebel forces have trapped Marcus Dimopoulous's retreating army at West Point, he fears that they will besiege him throughout the winter and up to 60% of his army will perish,"
My head was spinning. Why was I only hearing about this now?
"Your majesty, we need to get you out of the Capital right now," Corbon explained quickly.
I didn't have to think of my response, I already knew it.
"No," I replied.
"What? Your majesty, they will attack the Capital soon!"
"I said no!" I shot back.
My posture remained unmoved, telling him I wasn't backing down.
"... Then when the rebels sack New York and hang you in Times Square for all the world to see, then maybe you'll understand-"
"Lord Corbon don't you dare condemn me! May I ask how many Imperial Guard are there in New York?"
"Umm... I believe over 6000 your majesty..."
"Would that be adequate for a relief force?" I asked.
My idea was slowly coming together.
"A relief force...? Your majesty forgive me, but I'm not sure I understand..."
"Lord Corbon! Would 6000 of the most elite soldiers in America be a good enough force to relieve our trapped soldiers?"
"I would believe so majesty," Corbon replied, "Though I am not tactician or general, General Mackenzie would be the man to ask,"
"We do not have time to try and contact General Mackenzie as time is of the essence..."
I paused and finally decided to state my plan to the nobleman.
"Tell the Guard to mobilize with our new weapons..." I said turning back to the snowy paradise of New York, "I'm going to save Dimopoulous myself,"
His jaw dropped, "Your majesty you cannot be serious!"
"Why not milord? Why am I not serious about preventing a cataclysmic error that could lead to the fall of the capital?"
"Ma'am I am sure there are plenty of capable commanders in the region that would suit this task-"
"But none of them are in close enough proximity, nor could command the loyalty of the guard as I could... milord my decision is final, and my orders are final," I said coldly, before turning away.
"B-But-"
"My orders are final milord," I repeated, unwavering.
He sighed, "...Very well majesty, I will inform them..."
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4 hours later
Mere hours later, all six-thousand of the Imperial Guard were equipped with sub automatic rifles, thicker uniforms, better-insulated boots, and steel helmets. A true European modeled army it would appear. I sat atop a gorgeous black stallion, which clashed with my white Imperial uniform. I had only worn it once before... in Rome. But it was my uniform, and I did look absolutely stunning according to many nobles and regal for the soldiers. A clear leader in battle. A uniform that made clear my rank above all others: Sovereign Marshal of the Empire. No man or woman could ever usurp that position, only my successor, if it ever happens that is.
The stallion's feet clopped on the cobble path. The Guard stood tall and proud in multiple rows stretching into multiple columns. Their guns were strapped to the backs of their cotton uniforms. These uniforms were black as night, as was their helmets. I pulled my horse to a stop. Oh boy, I really should fix those uniforms, black isn't a good camoflague. In winter the soldiers normally wear white camouflage in order to remain concealed, but we did not have time to assemble such a number of uniforms for this last-minute relief assault.
"Today... today is the first day The Imperial Guard will be called to arms in its current format. The last time men in your position were going to fight our enemies were in the form of the Politburo Patriots under my great-great-great-great-grandfather, the Founder of the Empire, during the Old Republic's greatest moment of strife. You brave men will also be following this as our great Empire is in a moment of strife! Rebel troops are besieging our comrades fifty miles north at West Point. If they are destroyed, New York will be open for them to fulfill their desires with the Capital. God only knows what that could mean, but I will not let my people be at risk when I can do something about it!" I shouted out to the men.
"HUZZAH! HUZZAH!"
"We shall march north at once! To help our brothers and comrades break free from the rebels!"
"HUZZAH! HUZZAH!"
But before we could begin our march, one guard raised his hand.
"Wait your majesty!" He called out.
The man next to him nudged him.
"Don't call out the sovereign, she can only call out to you," He hissed.
"It is fine! I am no god, you have the right to speak!"
I pointed to the guard who had dared to speak out from the rest, "What is it you wish to say?"
"A-are you sure it is alright majesty?"
"That is okay," I replied, "You may speak,"
"Forgive me majesty, but in order to save much-needed time and energy wouldn't it be better if we were motorized, traveling in trucks and convoys? We would be at West Point in an hour and a half, compared to sixteen and a half, and we'd have more energy to fight!" The guard explained.
He did make a good point. Head Guard Palmerston, Conroy's replacement looked at me.
"Sir Palmerston, how many spare trucks do we have on hand?" I asked, "Enough to transport my new fabulous army to West Point?"
He did some quick calculations in his head. Palmerston was a smart man, quick to think on his feet, and so I didn't have to wait long.
"About 100 your majesty, should be enough to transport these men along with the artillery and horses,"
I nodded then looked at the young guard.
"Well, then I don't see why we shouldn't simplify this matter! Ready the trucks, we depart in one hour!"
"HUZZAH! HUZZAH!" The guards cheered, "HUZZAH! HUZZAH!"