NOVEL NEXT Chapter 1: Chapter One: The Nature of Necessity
Practical choices made each day,
Guide our Reich along its way.
Simple truths in blood and bone,
Mark the path that leads us home.
Morning fog shrouded the valley. Colonel Tanya von Degurechaff studied the terrain estimates with genuine enjoyment, her berceuse melody flowing through the command bunker. Her staff flinched at the cheerful tune - not because she meant to frighten them, but because they'd learned that her brightest moments often preceded her most practical decisions.
"Begin," she said, smiling at the elegant simplicity of it all.
The artillery opened up - no elaborate patterns, just concentrated fire where it would break them fastest. The first salvo landed short. She noted the battery commander's name with the same pleasant efficiency she applied to all necessary tasks. Mistakes required processing, just like recycling required sorting.
Her humming continued as reports arrived. Third Company encountered unexpected resistance at the western ridge. She happily made two notes: one for the intelligence officer who'd failed them, another for the company commander. Both would be processed - not out of anger, but because inefficiency had only one practical solution.
"Enemy commander requests terms," Major Serebryakov reported.
"Excellent!" Tanya's joy at efficient solutions was entirely genuine. "Standard procedure." She turned to her staff, eyes bright. "Preserve anyone useful I will personally deal with them, process the rest. The next sector will appreciate the practical demonstration." She checked her calculations. "Twenty percent processing losses? Perfect margins."
Value gained and value lost,
Every choice must weigh its cost.
Not for joy or hatred's sake,
Just the choices we must make.
The morning's advance flowed like a well-maintained machine. Success earned rewards - precisely measured, practically applied. Failure earned processing - swift, public, and educational. She took pleasure in both. A smoothly running operation was its own reward.
"Sir," a lieutenant reported, "Third Company is hesitating at the ridge."
"Process their command structure," she said brightly, never pausing her melody as she signed the order. "Promote survivors from Second." The tune was as natural as breathing, it cleared her thinking and to her was as practical as the orders that would be executed. Everything served its purpose.
Third Company took the ridge ten minutes later. Their timing was off but adequate. Tanya beamed - not perfection, but practical results were what mattered.
Morning fades to bloody noon,
Night will fold around us soon.
Each choice made clean and clear,
Brings tomorrow's victory near.
At sunset, she walked the captured positions with a spring in her step. She genuinely praised successful units - efficiency deserved recognition. She cheerfully ordered failures processed - waste required removal. Her good mood never wavered through either task. Why should it? Both were equally necessary.
"You see," she explained happily to her staff as the processing continued behind her, "complexity breeds failure. We advance because our choices are simple. Reward value. Remove waste. Maintain order." Her tune carried over the sounds of practical necessity.
The evening's final report delighted her with its efficiency:
"Objectives taken. Resistance broken. Useful elements preserved. Waste processed. Advance continues."
Sleep now soldiers, rest your eyes,
Tomorrow's sun will surely rise.
Those who serve will surely grow,
Those who fail reap what they sow.
Tomorrow would bring new battles, new choices, new necessities. The Reich would advance because practical choices yielded practical results. And Tanya's song would continue, because joy in efficiency was as much a part of her as the merciless practicality that made that efficiency possible.
Her staff had learned that her perpetual good cheer wasn't an act or a warning. She was simply happy in her work. That this happiness coexisted with utter mercilessness was just another practical reality of serving under her command.