"Comrade General Secretary, a letter has arrived from the Columbian branch."
It was not long after the dawn of the New Year.
I sprang up from my desk at Edward's words, pausing my routine bureaucratic duties within the safehouse.
With conditions in the Columbian colonies intensifying more than ever, their reports were invaluable.
While their correspondence surely contained biases and self-serving narratives, it was, at the very least, far more reliable than the Victorian press.
Still, I know Columbia appears as a nation in Arknights, but which operators were from there again?
It had been so long since my past life that the memories were beginning to blur. I couldn't say for certain.
I saw no sign of the Doctor, nor any whisper of Rhodes Island. It seemed the current timeline was significantly ahead of the original canon, though the precise distance remained a mystery.
I did, however, hear occasional word of Theresia.
The Lord of Fiends of Kazdel, a devil, a woman without blood or tears—such were the rumors that drifted through the industrial fog.
In truth, the only information circulating in this city came from our party organ, The Truth (Pravda), or the Victorian broadsheets. Naturally, those were the only kinds of articles they would print.
She wasn't the only target of their vitriol, but considering the triple alliance of Victoria, Gaul, and Leithanien had been utterly crushed by Kazdel nearly a hundred and thirty years ago, why would they ever publish anything favorable?
Even looking at the nations of twenty-first-century Earth, one could find plenty of rogue states that invaded others only to rationalize it with claims of a 'civilizing mission,' or dismiss their crimes by calling the victims 'savage.' They even had the audacity to suggest that drawing arbitrary lines on a map was a benefit because it 'expanded the territory.' In this world, where most people still possessed the draconian mindsets of the nineteenth or twentieth centuries, such historical revisionism was even more rampant.
Furthermore, the Sarkaz were treated as the root of all evil—essentially the Jews of Terra.
Good heavens, my thoughts have wandered into the abyss again.
Perhaps it's because my mental age has surpassed the mid-forties; I find myself drifting into these tangents more often now.
"Good. Hand it over at once."
I took the letter from him with care and unfurled the parchment.
The contents were exhaustive, but the crux of the matter was this:
The public sentiment in Columbia had completely alienated Duke Tibalt. Much like a single spark causing a catastrophic explosion in a powder keg, the slightest incident could now trigger a mass uprising.
The Columbian party members had secured a small but significant number of supporters through mass agitation, and they were currently manufacturing or seizing weapons from the Imperial armories.
However, despite this, they lacked the strength to initiate a nationwide revolt. Their support was concentrated in isolated pockets, while general public backing remained insufficient.
In essence: 'Comrades of the Central Committee, please send us military reinforcements.'
That was the core of the message.
The rest of the letter was filled with flowery rhetoric about the 'respected leaders' and 'the unified will of the proletariat,' which I simply skimmed over.
It was only natural that the Columbian branch was weaker than our Victorian presence.
Though we began in Ursus, mainland Victoria was the region we targeted most intensely. It was there that our influence was strongest, and the rapid industrialization had already forged a robust working class.
Columbia, by contrast, was a colony that had begun its expansion less than a century ago. Aside from a few major hub cities, industrialization was sluggish. Most of the territory consisted of pioneer settlements where people lived hand-to-mouth, surviving on whatever daily harvest the soil yielded.
Since many Sarkaz had migrated to Columbia after the diaspora following the Kazdel invasion, we had managed to recruit some through theories of ethnic liberation, but even then, it was only a fraction of their number.
Should I teach them 'Foco Theory'—the strategy of creating liberated zones through community service and building rapport with the locals?
No. It was already too late for that.
To implement such a strategy effectively, one would need at least five years. In a situation where the fuse is already burning toward the powder keg like the ticking of a clock, it would be useless.
Of course, if we intended to drag out a guerrilla war for decades, it would be possible.
But against a Victoria capable of deploying high-speed battleships, a handful of guerrillas are nothing more than annoying gnats.
Furthermore, if we committed now, our party—which the Crown currently views as mere 'Radical Republicans'—would be officially branded a Treacherous Clique. Under the heavy scrutiny of the nobility, my head would be the first to roll as the ringleader of the rebellion.
Naturally, I do not fear for my life for the sake of the revolution.
I would sacrifice my neck a hundred, a thousand times for the cause of Permanent Revolution.
The problem is that the moment I die, the revolution in this world is finished.
The moment I perish, our party would suffer the fate of the moderate left in post-war Korea—either absorbed into the radicals or purged in massacres by the state once they had outlived their usefulness.
Is there anyone among the current party leadership with the standing to succeed me as the leader of the revolution?
Maxim? Wrangel? Laman? Alya? Pyotr?
They were either too old (Pyotr), too deeply entrenched in factional politics (Maxim), or figures who, despite their recognition, lacked the gravitas to lead (Laman, Alya).
Wrangel was perhaps the only one who could feasibly replace me, but to be frank, while he possessed leadership, his grasp of the broader geopolitical landscape was slow.
Even before Alya contracted Oripathy, it was Wrangel who questioned why we should even care about the rights of the Infected.
Well... he was quick to change his stance eventually, at least.
Sigh... the path to a sustainable Communist Party is long and treacherous indeed.
Regardless, I feel for our comrades in the Columbian branch, but we cannot provide direct military support.
However, we can certainly provide 'indirect' support.
A mass supply of red pamphlets of unknown origin calling for resistance against the Empire; weapons 'accidentally' leaked from the Birmingham munitions factories; a safe full of funds lost by a bureaucrat suddenly appearing in a Columbian post office.
We could even organize a fundraising campaign.
On paper, we would call it a 'Fundraising Event for the Welfare of our Brave Soldiers Dispatched to Normalize Columbia.'
And then, while the funds are being transported to the front, 'a carriage carrying the donations might mysteriously vanish,' only to find its way into the hands of our 'true allies' among the soldiers.
Columbia's motif is based on America, right?
I may be a socialist, but even I know that in 90% of cases, taking the side of America means winning the war.
Why did the democratic government of Afghanistan or South Vietnam lose despite massive American support?
They lost because they were incompetent fools. I am different.
If it is I, it can be done!!!
And besides, history shows that when Columbia wins its independence, it is a definitive victory.
There likely won't be a Second Columbian War of Independence.
So, if we support this war and continue to grow the Columbian branch until they successfully seize power, we can eventually absorb them into our Union as a member state—the Columbian Soviet Socialist Republic.
Unless an incredibly advanced AI manages to rule with zero errors, a regime change is always possible.
But come now, does such a thing even exist?
Life is a gamble. A total gamble.
Moreover, even if our bid for power fails, we will be in a position to demand our share from the new Columbian government. It is not a losing trade.
Whether it succeeds or not, there is profit to be had.
Therefore, we must support them at any cost.
The agenda was brought to the floor.
"Opening the 12th Central Committee Meeting of the International Communist Party, Year 1016. We shall begin voting on the final item of the day: the proposal to support our revolutionary comrades in Columbia."
"Why bother with these long-winded preambles? You're just dragging out the meeting. Ugh, how tedious. Just tell me what the support plan entails."
"I do it because those are the rules. To be honest, wouldn't it look quite impressive to an outsider? At any rate, this support package includes medical supplies for local healthcare, industrial goods and machinery to test theories of worker self-management and improve quality of life, and books to increase literacy rates."
"Doesn't sound too bad, does it?"
"Let's vote. Charlotte is waiting for me, I have to leave quickly. I, Edward, vote in favor."
"Hey! I told you it's a secret ballot! I know you're happy because you're getting married soon, but please, get used to the procedure! This is your first attendance, and you've already caused how many invalid votes!"
After a brief bout of commotion, the final vote concluded.
Of the 100 total committee members, 72 were present. The result: 71 in favor, 1 invalid.
On that day, several motions were passed: the resolution for Sarkaz ethnic liberation, the purchase of additional machine tools, the authorization for the creation of the Iberian National Confederation of Trade Unions under the Liberty League, the mass printing of *Justice and Order and The Theory of Labor Equality*, and the support plan for the Columbian revolution.
***************************************************************
"So, about that letter we sent to the Central Committee. Do you really think they'll listen?"
The headquarters of the Columbian Communist Party was established within a sprawling plantation.
The plantation owner had maintained a facade of compliance, ensuring they didn't catch the eye of Duke Tibalt's forces. Thanks to this, they were able to set up a base relatively close to the city.
But that was where their luck ended.
Oppression in the cities was extreme. Duke Tibalt was not an incompetent fool like Earl Archibald of Birmingham; he was as harsh and brutal as he was efficient in his suppression.
Every time a labor union formed, it was crushed by overwhelming violence, and each time, the Columbian branch lost significant ground.
The saving grace was that the Sarkaz had chosen to cooperate with them.
"To be honest, I didn't trust those Sarkaz folks at first, but after reading the books the Central Committee sends, they've started to feel like family."
"Are you a Liberi? Stop talking nonsense. You just think that Sarkaz woman over there is pretty."
"Haha! How did you know? I don't know why Sarkaz women are so beautiful! Just look at those full red lips and pale skin!"
"Good grief, you pathetic brat."
Unlike the Central leadership of the International Communist Party, who were under the direct influence of Vladimir's rhetoric, these men still possessed strong ethno-centric tendencies.
Even with the Sarkaz's help, there were those who still viewed them with distaste and argued they should be expelled.
Furthermore, perhaps due to the frontier nature of Columbia and its pioneers' pursuit of liberty, the Central branch had very little control over the individual regional factions.
There were also many more Liberty League members here compared to other branches.
However, their numbers were on the rise.
Though it was a pittance compared to the numbers in Victoria, nearly 30,000 people across Columbia—including party members' families—now sympathized with the cause.
Their relationship with the independentist Selene Maylander and the local militias was also quite decent.
At the very least, they were prepared to cooperate for the sake of independence.
"Please, let the support come..."
In a gesture quite unbecoming of a communist, the Columbian Branch Secretary prayed to the heavens.
Of course, the International Communist Party had yet to officially mandate atheism, but he prayed regardless.
The next day, his wish was granted.
"Comrade Secretary! The support has arrived! Our revolutionary comrades have backed us!"
"Books! It's books! There's even a printing press! And the latest edition of The Truth*!"
"Lathes! We can finally manufacture precision weapons!"
The Columbian branch had finished its preparations to make the powder keg explode with even greater force.
They decided to wait for the spark that would burn everything to ash.
And the spark that would trigger it all... was taxes.
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