Season 1, Episode 4 - The Microwave Postscript 2 - "The Mattetuck Incident"

Six years later.

Despite their best attempts to avoid historical parallels, New England fell upon tough times. The Quinetucket administration – so named for ruling out of that city in central Massachusetts - faced the colossal task of juggling hyperinflation, unemployment, near-famine, and near-revolution. People took to the streets, both in support of the ruling Justice Party and the opposing Patriotic Party.

The later violence between politicians in the Senatorial Chamber would first be found in the street fights that erupted across New England’s major cities. Both parties organized the returning, unemployed veterans into their own private paramilitaries. Bars erupted in brawls and pubs, gunfights took place in dirty avenues, and several cities saw minor and major coup attempts. In New England’s first, free election, the Justice Party retained their hold over the Quinetucket government. Claims of unfair election tactics and rigging (of varying levels of credibility) were met with more waves of political violence.

The situation worsened over the next four years. In a particularly bad year for the economy, rioting, looting, and murder struck nearly every city, no matter the size. When the leader of the Patriotic party, a colorful politician named Claudius, called for a nation-wide general strike, the Quinetucket government ordered one of its two commanders, Major General Sullivan Pulaski of the Aroostook Army, to relinquish his control over some of his forces to garrison the cities and suppress the violence. Pulaski simply refused.

With his hand forced, Quinetucket Minister for War Malcolm ordered the other Army commander, Otto Dietrich, to redeploy his forces. Dietrich, stationed along the border with New York, complied, but once his soldiers arrived in the city, many simply deserted and slipped away into crowds or back home. These deserters joined the ranks of the rioters, while those who remained in the Army used increasingly heavy-handed tactics to quell the unrest.

The instability pushed the Quinetucket government into a corner. The deployment of army forces for domestic purposes raised alarm bells in the capitals of the Unified Pact member states, who at the same time refused to ease up, or at least restructure, New England’s war reparations. When Patriotic paramilitaries set fire to Malcolm’s summer estate – and perhaps, more importantly, a row of textile mills in the town of Pennacook owned by the pro-Justice mayor – ambitious Justice militiamen and army soldiers responded in force. When Claudius traveled to the mill town of Salem Slot for a speech, he came across a government patrol group on the road. Claudius did not survive, with his bodyguards temporarily driven off.

When news of this reached the New England population, the consequences were obvious: greater and greater waves of violence. Claudius’s bodyguards contracted the support of a local militia and retrieved Claudius’s corpse before the Justice party soldiers could dispose of it. They brought his body to Quinetucket, where Patriotic paramilitaries and mob followers overwhelmed the soldiers guarding the Senatorial Chamber – or even recruited them to their side – and burned down the building as Claudius’s funeral pyre.

This forced the relocation of the Quinetucket government back to the prewar seat of power in Narragansett. Try as they might, the old world refused to die, and the increasingly-oligarchic members of Quinetucket, who genuinely wanted democracy at the start, found themselves in the corrupt, messy word of Narragansett from which there was no escape.

Things were coming to a head. When the Quinetucket government defaulted on their war reparations, the New York military occupied the mill towns of the Naugatuck River Valley. Not wishing to provoke New York further, but bowing to public pressure that something should be done, the Quinetucket government once again ordered Pulaski to relinquish part of his forces for deployment in the south.

Pulaski refused once more, so Malcolm sacked him from his position. Considering they were rivals in wartime, the move wasn’t surprising. Malcolm was a high-ranking secretary of the prewar government that joined the Justice Party in their overthrow of the oligarchy that ended the war, while Pulaski was a general who remained convinced that the war could have been salvaged if the domestic politicians hadn’t ended it prematurely. Due to the machinations of the Quinetucket government and the Unified Pact restriction of New England’s armed forces, General Pulaski of the Aroostook Army Group quietly accepted the forced demotion to Major General of the mere Aroostook Army.

But that was Pulaski’s power – his ability to remain quiet. He disliked Malcolm, but never outright called him out. By keeping quiet, Pulaski made all sorts of friends, or at least prevented powerful parties from becoming his enemies.

With a broad coalition around him, Pulaski received the telegram from Malcolm, ordering him to relinquish his command and return to the capital for questioning. Thinking long and deliberately on it, Pulaski sent Malcolm a telegram back, announcing he would return to Narragansett. A few days later, agents along the route informed the government that Pulaski was returning to Narragansett with the Aroostook Army.

Things moved fast as news reached the public. Patriotic forces rioted across the capital; with their leader dead, they rallied around Pulaski. The old oligarchy and their businesses looked forward to regaining power under a new government. The nail in the coffin came when Cambridge, the Institute, and even West Narragansett Technical Academy announced they would sit on their hands on the matter. Malcolm and the Justice Party had surrounded themselves with Rddhi users for defense, but as was evident with their failure to protect the Senatorial Chamber, the Rddhi users looked after themselves and their schools when push came to shove. The government's elite Rddhi bodyguards and commanders deserted.

Malcolm fled the city with his paramilitary forces, leaving only the diehards to defend the capital. He intended on regrouping in Connecticut with Dietrich’s military forces assembled there. And that’s when General Donovan Asenov would make his move.

As the general in charge of the occupying New York military forces, Asenov now had his chance to create the peace he wanted all along. Truth be told, Malcolm wasn’t sure if he could defeat Pulaski in a campaign with just Dietrich’s troops, even if their number of soldiers and equipment was similar. That’s what led Malcolm to strike a deal with Asenov; Malcolm would march back on Narragansett with the full support of the New York military. Malcolm would become leader of New England, and Asenov would present the New York government with a fait accompli of a New England leader under his thumb and New York soldiers occupying large swathes of New England.

Asenov knew implementing the full-fledged Surrender Program would be difficult, but with New York soldiers holding the capital, he also knew he would have options. He suspected Malcolm would turn on him once he defeated Pulaski, but that was alright, because Asenov planned on turning on him first and replacing him with someone even more pliable.

Asenov also knew New York would never authorize a move like this. So, he never asked.

All Asenov needed was a spark, a reason to officially move New York troops over the border. That spark would come from Malcolm’s men; dressed as Patriotic soldiers, they would shell Mattetuck - the city hosting the offices of the occupation in Naugatuck - in late evening. In early morning, Asenov’s soldiers would march on Narragansett.

That evening, Asenov paced around his Mattetuck headquarters. He was safe from the artillery, of course – they would target abandoned farmsteads just close enough to the city to raise a ruckus. As the time drew nearer, Asenov examined his route to Narragansett once again, pouring over campaign maps on his table and the giant map of the northeastern former United States on his wall.

His aide entered the room. Asenov faced him and breathed deeply, knowing it was time to fulfill his destiny. But when he saw the aide’s face, he realized something was amiss.

The aide spoke with a nervous tone. “Sir...you have visitors. From the City.” He swallowed. “Secretary of War Murphy and President Tompkins.”

It took all of his combined strength, but Asenov kept his face neutral. “I see,” he answered in a plain tone. “Send them in.”

After his aide left, Asenov gripped the back of a wooden chair, his knuckles turning white. Tompkins and Murphy have no reason to be here. I expected an intervention, but not until we were halfway to Narragansett. It would be too late then. So why are they here now, before the march has even begun?

His aide let the two men inside, then respectfully departed. Asenov stood face-to-face with the civilian commanders of the military.

In the six years that passed, Murphy’s hair started to gray, but he still had the youthful look Asenov recognized from college. In contrast, President Tompkins stood tall, possessing a dash of white hair on his face, strong eyes honed from years of politicking, and a powerful voice.

“I heard we’re expecting an artillery barrage on Mattetuck right about now,” Tompkins began, his voice forceful.

Asenov’s mask slipped for a moment.

How? How could they have known?

“What His Excellency means to say,” Murphy diplomatically broke in. “Is that we’ve heard terrible rumors, Donovan, about your plans for this evening.”

“Don’t beat around the bush,” Tompkins interrupted. “General Asenov, you were planning a false flag operation to act as a casus belli for invading New England of your own accord. What do you have to say for yourself?”

Asenov kept quiet for a moment, returning to his usual gruff look. “I don’t know what you’re trying to say.”

Tompkin’s face grew red. “Asenov, ever since the Tri-Village Massacre – which occurred under your watch, I might add - there’s been German agents snooping around Mattetuck. One of them caught wind of your little plan, but we were fortunate that he came to us first. We checked the story out, spoke with witnesses, and know what you were planning to do.”

Asenov gritted his teeth. My senior staff. One of them ratted me out. Damn the politicians. If it weren’t for political concessions, none of their men would have wormed their way onto my staff. I kept those who weren’t handpicked by me out of the loop, and I swore my own men to secrecy...damn it all. I should’ve kept everything to myself.

Asenov eyed Tompkins angrily.

And ‘His Excellency’ has the audacity to act as though we were merely lucky the German went to him first. Tompkins’ own men found those foreign agents and bribed them, no doubt. I heard Tompkins has extra funds lying about thanks to selling the hydroelectric rights at Niagara Falls.

They’re all against me. The establishment. The monied interests. Politicians and bureaucrats. Can’t they see? Can’t they see what’s going to befall this country if we don’t destroy our enemy now?

“And it wouldn’t have worked anyway,” Tompkins continued. “Malcolm is dead.”

That took Asenov aback. “Dead? When?”

“Earlier today, a few hours ago,” Tompkins explained. “They say he drowned crossing a river. The reality is that he was likely murdered by his own forces. I can’t imagine they would’ve liked the idea of allowing a New York army into their homeland.”

“I doubt it will ever be proven, but lieutenants working for Major General Otto Dietrich of the New England Tolland Army are believed to be responsible,” Murphy added. “Dietrich will likely wash his hands of the whole thing. He assumed control of the paramilitaries and auxiliary forces Malcolm brought with him, then reported to a Unified Pact agent that he has no intention of attacking Mattetuck. Dietrich withdrew all of his artillery out of range from the city.”

Tompkins concluded things. “The game’s over, Asenov. We were also unfortunate enough that journalists caught wind of the false flag operation. It’ll be all over the front pages of tomorrow’s newspapers.”

Taller than the general, the president looked down upon him. “Let me be very clear with you. Shit rolls down hill. I will be catching a lot of flak for this. And that means I will be sending you a lot of that flak.”

Asenov looked back and forth between the two men. Murphy’s face carried some sympathy with it, Tompkin’s bore anger, but both men seemed firm in their resolve.

“There's ways to solve this,” Asenov suggested, his voice sounding shaky as the reality set in. “Run an announcement, say the news doesn’t have a credible source. You could, you could-”

“Donovan,” Murphy interrupted. “Don’t make this any harder on yourself.”

Asenov wiped his brow and took a step back.

“You’re not entirely wrong,” Tompkins informed the general. “The people consider you a war hero. I bet there’s a sizeable portion of New York that would've supported your little operation. But there’s a majority who wouldn’t. Nobody wants to fight another war, especially one started under false circumstances. But as of now, the evidence is still rather shaky. But that could change in the future.”

“When word reaches Berlin and London, they’ll want something done,” Murphy said. “And if we don’t do anything, they’ll launch investigations of their own. You know how bad that will look? The alliance of democracies investigating one of its own for militarism and deceit? For the sake of New York, the alliance, and the world, we are going to solve this, right here and now.”

In contrast to the map hanging on his wall, the world was a much larger place than just the northeast. Asenov wasn't one for travel, or for foreign entanglements. He gritted his teeth - he still felt uneasy, but perhaps there was a way out of this after all. “What do you propose?”

“When the newspapers run the story tomorrow, I will run a counter story,” Tompkins explained. “The blame will be shifted to the independent acts of low-ranking officers who formed a makeshift plan in theory with no practical application. I’ll then remind the public of the stock market highs, the economy, and the electric output of Niagara. Within a week or two, things should blow over.” He looked at Asenov harshly. “But you’ll have to go. You were on thin enough ice as it is with the Tri-Village Massacre, but the Germans and English want you gone.” A hint of satisfaction arose in Tompkin’s voice. “And, to put it frankly, I want you gone just as much as they do.”

Again, they’re sacrificing their own country’s future for the sake of their own interests and the interests of others!

But still, at the moment, Asenov felt isolated. He couldn’t trust the politicians, nor his senior staff. Still a supporter of democracy at heart, Asenov decided against instilling a cult of personality in his soldiers. That just left him, by himself, against the world.

Asenov spoke hesitantly. “I’m being forced into retirement?”

“Reassigned,” Murphy corrected. “You’ll retain your rank of General and command over an Army Group...except it’ll be the Caribbean Expeditionary Force.”

Asenov remained quiet. “...you mean to send me as far away as possible? With Pulaski marching south?”

“He’s made no announcements about reversing the occupation of Naugatuck,” Tompkins corrected. “In fact, he’s let us know that he’s open to Pan-Asian settlement of the financial issues. Don’t worry about Pulaski. Focus on my new campaign to bring successful democracy to the Caribbean Mandates, which will also run as a counter-story to this whole mess.”

Tompkins rattled off his plans. “You’ll be sent there to set up democratic governments in the Mandates. A democracy-building project. It’ll satisfy the Unified Pact, it’ll satisfy the public. And perhaps it will even satisfy you. It’ll be a tall task, and to put it frankly, the Mandates are at the lowest end of priority for materials and supplies.”

Murphy tried to help. “We did assign some items to you. You’ll be based in the Bahamas, and you’ll have the zeppelin Mantle and some Javits fighters at your disposal. To also speak frankly, anyone and anything else that needs to be exiled will be given to you.”

They're sending me away to forgotten.

But for some reason, a hopeful feeling arose inside the general's heart.

To be forgotten. I can do things the way I see fit down there. And it's become too clear that I can only trust my way.

“How long will I be down there for?”

Tompkins shrugged. “As long as I and my successors require it. Perhaps even until your retirement.”

Asenov slowly nodded.

Tompkins nodded at Murphy. “Well, gentlemen,” he said, reaching for the door. “Let us hope no artillery falls on us tonight.”

None would.