Vittorio Orlando looked upon the document with wrinkled eyes. He turned to his closest friend and the man who brought him this document in the first place. Victor Orlindo.

Orlindo was a sharp and built up man, a person who had seen and engaged in many battles. And who had honed his blade to be as sharp behind closed doors as it was when brandished in the open.

Orlindo was everything Orlando was not. Orlando had never been the brightest or the most talented when it came to planning actual battles or when it came to honing his skills in combat.

He was a man best suited to making sure that the dashing hero's of legends had armies to field. Had food to eat. Or had clothes on their back.

When thought of like that, Orlando was just as important to wars as Orlindo was.

A man could be leading an army to war or be leading a people to support the nation but never both.

As such Orlando sat behind his desk most of his life in the office. He never had thought that millions of men were in danger of losing their lives if he signed off on an order.

True Men, not the disgusting Vat-Born that was.

"Come on, this has to be done. Our nation has a chance to take back the land we lost during the War." Orlindo said with a serious tone. "Our Nation could regain all that we lost, we could win back our honor. and return Italy to its glory before the conflict."

"And risk another was as great as the last one?" Orlando asked.

"It's a risk we have to take. Our people are mad, and this is the best way to keep them placid." Orlindo said.

"You speak of our people like cattle?" Orlando said with a hint of amusement.

"Remember who the real cattle are, Victor. It's Vat-Born!" Orlando shouted.

"And that is exactly why we should take the risk," Orlindo said. "The Vat-Born grow more populous every day, and should we acquire the Isles, we would have millions of Birthed citizens. Allowing us a more even fight against the Vat-Born." Orlindo explained.

Orlando considered the option for a moment. The Vat-Born were an ever-increasing subject of worry to him. Birthed were easily superiors when compared to the Vat-Born. And nothing could change Orlando's mind. Should they go through with the plan, then his fears of a Vat-Born uprising would be far less likely.

Programs were already in the works to deal with the Vat-Borns startling population advantage, from genocide to breeding programs. None of them were pretty in his eyes, but he would rather the breeding programs than the genocides.

There were better uses of ammunition, after all.

"The plan is sound," Orlando admitted. "But how would we ever even go about such an operation. Security is far-reaching when it comes to the Romans and few Italians are welcome amongst them. I highly doubt our services could sneak through their defenses." Orlando said.

"A sound counterargument, but we are not alone in this endeavor. You may come in now." Orlindo called.

With a creak, his door opened to reveal three figures. First was the Pope of the Vatican, he walked with a grace that few could muster, his very presence causing the room to flush with holy incense and cleansing oil. On his pouch, vials of alchemic ingredients for many holy potions were stored. Out of sight and out of mind, many men never wanted to know such an important figure carried vicious poison that could kill them all.

The second figure was the British diplomat and former member of British secret services, Remlin Struch. He was dressed in a midnight black suit, decked out in dozens of gold medals for many achievements. A standard top hat was on his head to get the message across that he was British. Something entirely lost in his face. Wearing a standard hard grimace, and sporting a fierce mustache that would make women faint at how properly trimmed it was.

Plus his very, well, peculiar social interaction would make anyone think he was at least slightly German. And while he wasn't, Orlando was very sure one didn't need to wear a stereotypical top-hat to get his ethnic background across.

The third was a woman with a crimson dress that flowed elegantly around her, mismatching her dress was a pauldron-like shoulder guard on both of her sides. While looking like extra bundles of silk thrown on at a singular place. Orlando noticed some very unladylike things inside it. A gun for example.

"May I introduce former RI6 director Remlin Struch, Pope Francis Scott III, and current head of the RI6 Lady Madam Sir."

"Lady Madam Sir?" Orlando asked.

"That's what I go by for most affairs, if you were the director of the most feared agency in the world wouldn't you use such a name." Lady Madam Sir answered.

"I guess I would, but why would a woman be involved in such an organization at all? Does your husband boad ill currently and you were sent in as a replacement?" Orlando asked.

In Response Lady Madam Sir pulled out a pistol and shot his desk several times. Each shot growing closer and closer to his body till the sixth and final shot covered him in wooden splinters. Orlando quickly pulled out a pistol only to find his room filled in with smoke, obstructing his view and not allowing him a clear shot.

"I suggest you put that pistol down now good sir." Lady Madam Sir said with a warm voice as if disciplining a child. A knife hung around his neck, ready to cut through it in a second. Orlando slowly put his gun on the table.

With a bit of hesitation, Lady Madam Sir dropped her knife back in her Pauldrons. He heard gears creak as Lady Madam Sir retook her previous position.

"As you can clearly see," Orlindo said as he gestured to the mess, "These individuals have an impressive talent and can help us in our goals."

"I can see that, but what do they want in return?" Orlando asked.

"I and Lady Madam Sir would like a trade deal that gave us access to the markets of the Isles. Along with closer ties to our country and the drafting of a new alliance. The terms and specifics can be ironed out and such later. But that is the base deal."

"I on the other hand would like fifty additional churches bankrolled by the government when you take back your Isles as you call it."

Orlando considered the deal. On one hand, he could deny and make powerful enemies who would no doubt set up Italy's operations for failure before the first agents know. And as Lady Madam Sir had just demonstrated, could easily kill him.

And on the other, he could forge close pacts with powerful allies, making the operation a success. And forging closer ties to the Church, which would immediately make his people happy. That tends to happen when the house of god supports you.

"All right, I'm sold. But if this fails you and your merry band will have the biggest shitshow of your lives." Orlando said.

"You would say that to all your allies? Even the Pope?" Lady Madam Sir asked.

"If Italy goes down, then we're dragging everyone else with us. I doubt you wouldn't do the same."

"I would never." Lady Madam Sir lied.

"Anyway," Orlindo said, "if we are all in agreement, let us begin the preparations tomorrow." '"Certainly"' everyone in the room said.

As they exited, Orlindo and Orlando began to talk in-depth about what they could offer and refuse to their new allies. Not noticing the whisper Lady Madam Sir said, and the cackle Remlin made when he heard it.

"For starters, I wouldn't let the man who could ruin my life live the moment I failed to uphold my end."