Ainsi je frappe - the pasts and presents of Isabelle Montlaville de Chanteloup

[Lanakov]

Six months before the battle of New London.

Chanteloup was, like so many nights before, at her desk. Like so many nights before, the ominous BRETONIA : FIN DE PARTIE file was open before her eyes. She was scribbling notes, possibilities, drawbacks... in a vain attempt to quantify what would be an apocalypse, no matter how well she went about her work.

Much had changed in the MRG hierarchy over this past winter. The Chancellery, on her suggestion, had issued the order to remove the grand maréchal Jean-Paul Macron from office and grant her more power through the reactivation of the ancient Amiral de Gaule title. This wasn't done as a reward for her past services ; this wasn't the mood anymore in royal cabinets. Charles wanted Bretonian blood, and fast, aware that the tides could turn at any second. She knew she'd been granted this extra power to end the stagnation of the Bretonian campaign and ensure a swift and decisive end to it, so royal attention could be turned elsewhere. It was determined, she imagined, that she'd be more efficient at reducing the enemy's will to fight compared to the admittedly softer Macron...
Yet, some saw this as a bid to exercise absolute power over the Marine. One in particular, the usually reserve, statuesque, ice-cold amiral de Justéton. When the announcement came during the high admiralty council, he simply rose, calmly, pulled his sidearm and shot Chanteloup before anyone could move. She was shot to the hip, survived, but still had to use a cane months later. Justéton was arrested and not heard of again.

Chanteloup raised her pen from her notes, aware that she was absent-mindedly scribbling pointless observations on how an absence of genocide would be preferrable to a genocide. It was Macron that asked her to choose one of the game-ending scenarios Gallia's military analysts had conceived, and although he was no longer her boss, she carried on, aware of the increasing necessity of preparing for a desperate outcome. She was accustomed to grim perspectives, but this was easily the darkest point of her career.
She returned to her notes. The scenario that she felt was both the most effective and most humane was called Option 4. It called for a massive deployment of the newly developped Triumph destroyer around key Bretonian positions, as an effort to either obliterate the adversary's morale... Or create enough shock and sideration in the Bretonian chain of command to ensure a safe retreat to Leeds.

And then...

With a deep sigh, she returned to her scribbling, leaning her head heavily on her left hand.

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If everyone was a bit more like Lanakov, the entire world would be more positive. Including pregnancy tests.