Chapter 8 One-Eyed Parrot (3)
Chapter 8 One-Eyed Parrot (3)
The plans I had conceived throughout the journey back to St. Petersburg after completing the world tour.
Though with an ordinary level of intelligence, I had filled dozens of pages squeezing out all knowledge, both present and lacking.
Sadly, I had to discard it all with the military enlistment sentence.
Strange to say, but I keenly realized that being close to power as Crown Prince meant my hands and feet weren't free.
Father, government departments, military, and everyone else all told me the same thing.
Just stay quiet and don't stick out.
Just do my Railway Department work properly.
That demand was so forceful that I was sent to a group where only rank and orders exist.
By Father's command to the Petersburg Military District, just half a day from the capital.
I enlisted there as a junior lieutenant in an infantry regiment.
Yes, enlisted is enlisted.
But why commission me as a regular lieutenant?
==
Three months later, promoted rapidly through two ranks to Captain.
Spending winter as Captain, spring came and clothes needed changing with the season.
With that, the rank insignia changed to Lieutenant Colonel.
"What is this, some military rank experience program?"
Rising from junior lieutenant to lieutenant colonel in a year makes me wonder what this is about...
Surprisingly, this was how all imperial family members of this era built military experience.
While imperial family members far from succession rights might live their whole lives as soldiers, even those who weren't would at least sample the ranks.
Military education was limited to basics learned from private tutors in childhood, utterly insufficient for field command or staff work.
So what to do.
"Hey, came the Chief Adjutant from Earth Headquarters?"
"...Lieutenant Colonel Nicholas, what is that manner of speaking?"
"What else. A tone mixing respect and familiarity for the Colonel rank."
Just accumulating paper experience.
"Well, either you're unprejudiced or..."
"Lacking manners?"
"I said nothing."
"Sigh, rank is such a thug, isn't it?"
"Status is more of a thug."
Anyway, even in the military, my introduction is followed by 'Tsesarevich (Crown Prince).'
Meaning there's no hope of normal mingling or building camaraderie.
Even if this life might help somehow in the future, the military of this era really doesn't suit me.
It's messed up from the start when commanders' performance evaluations are filled with who can do formation drills faster.
Training is experiential, and most daily routine is accelerated officer education. I spend each day as an outcast in the military unit, going around various inspections and demonstrations.
"So what's the matter?"
"...Lieutenant Colonel, looks like you're getting transferred."
"Again? Why?"
"Why? How can you say 'why'? Didn't the unit's best logistics officers collectively retire?"
"Ah, that job change?"
"Even the soldiers all know you urged retirement behind the scenes!"
But wasn't that incident resolved with my week of disciplinary confinement?
"Why hold me responsible for that now? The empire is a country with freedom of occupation."
"Wow, really..."
"Honestly, you know too. Such talents were wasted rotting in this organization."
"So you sent them all to the Far East?"
"Hey! The empire guarantees freedom of movement since abolishing serfdom!"
Well, just from rumors, these logistics people were all excellent folks with higher education.
While my slightest finger movement is followed by dozens of eyes, that's not the case for those people, right?
So I just actively employed them. Mmm, very legal and legitimate.
"Why, Colonel's pension should be great, want to retire too?"
"...What about your superiors? It's not just once or twice you've wanted to clear them all out."
"They seem too old to reach the Far East before reaching their graves. Abilities are just so-so too."
While it's true I recklessly stuffed fantasies about the Far East into retirees' lungs, what I actually offered as basis was just the name value of Tsesarevich and money.
Meaning there was no coercion or pressure in their process of leaving the military.
"Yes, hello. My introduction, well you must know- Wait, what was your name?"
"Colonel Roman Isidorovich Kondratenko!"
"Chief Adjutant?"
"Yes!"
Roman Isidorovich Kondratenko...
First name Roman.
Middle name Isidorovich.
Family name Kondratenko.
"...Graduated from Nikolaev Engineering Academy?"
"Yes!"
"Current position?"
"Serving as Chief Adjutant and logistics officer overseeing the district!"
After seeing only brass stars for so long, even I was startled by the suddenly familiar name.
Though my reaction seemed to make him stiffer, it couldn't be as much as my surprise.
While there are hundreds of great generals in imperial history, generals recorded in this era can be counted on both hands.
And one of them, Roman Isidorovich Kondratenko, hero of the Russo-Japanese War.
The master of defense for whom even Japan, his opponent, erected a monument out of respect for the man who killed tens of thousands of their troops.
"...Roman, would you like to go to the Far East?"
I couldn't hold back.
==
"Hmm..."
"He shows excellent talent in officer education. I felt it during the previous state council too, but he's clearly different. Specifically in sending clear criticism and praise sharply divided on certain agenda items."
"Even for mere agenda items, not implementation?"
"It wasn't decisions based on personal favor."
"Did he just study every day after we sent him on world travel?"
"That's unlikely. Even Professor Bunge, his economics teacher, was surprised by his scholarship."
"Ho ho."
Weak and insufficient Crown Prince Nikolai.
Sending the child who couldn't leave his mother's embrace and lived trapped in the narrow world of the imperial family to see the world seems to have brought back more than expected.
Though he's a son loved more than life itself, Alexander knew how to evaluate his heir coldly as Tsar.
'Words my father told me in childhood. That I wasn't emperor material.'
Yes, how far would that insufficient second son's bloodline go? Nikolai grew up extremely ordinary like himself, neither exceptional nor outstanding.
He can't rule the country with conviction like his father, nor is he talented in many areas like his deceased elder brother.
But what can be done, he is the beloved eldest son.
"However, I didn't want him to change this much..."
Alexander looked at several papers in his hand.
They were Okhrana's summary of what the Crown Prince had been crying about while stirring up everyone from Interior Ministry police inspectors to Imperial Household vice-ministers before enlisting.
Far Eastern development plans.
East Siberian economic development 5-year plan.
Military strengthening measures.
Proposal for increasing trade with America.
The original Nikolai who felt burdened even by the small practical work given to him wouldn't have been able to voice such opinions.
"Seems it's not just empty wind..."
"However, his excessive interest in the Far East is concerning."
"I agree. I was once obsessed with ships too, but this goes too far. We've barely escaped deficit finances and are attempting reforms."
Great-grandfather tried to implement noble reforms but was assassinated after just 5 years of reign, and grandfather completely nullified great-grandfather's reform attempts.
The previous Tsar, father, pledged to abolish serfdom and enrich workers' lives for the people, but was likewise assassinated by the people, and those plans almost disappeared during his reign.
"...Ugh."
"Are you alright?"
"Huu, no. I can still endure. The accident's aftereffects haven't faded."
I just wanted Nicholas to inherit a safe empire, but somehow seeds of a reform monarch appear.
Can't keep him buried in the military like now, but what should be done as a father and as this empire's Tsar?
Even after driving Nikolai to the border, worries about his son won't leave his mind.
"Is Nikolai doing well in Vilna? Previously heard he got along well regardless of rank."
"About that... They say he tried to send another colonel to the Far East as soon as he arrived in Vilna."
"..."
He could only hope the empire wouldn't collapse in his son's era.
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