The Great War of the Quartet (The Imperial Timeline Book 1) by M.K. Sangert Page A

difference,” she said, her hesitating weakness making Frederic feel surprisingly good about himself.
    Emily had been reading a lot of newspapers lately, but she hadn’t gone to many meetings with her groups. She had become all too inactive, and she worried about that since there might still be time to push for one of the Republican candidates for the United States Senate if enough people would pressure the New York Republican Party into putting her on the ballot this fall rather than just another man. After all, out of the three senators from each state, progressive states like New York should have the wherewithal to have at least one woman. The Democratic states certainly wouldn’t, not unless they would leave the 15th century behind.
    “We have to worry about our own troubles first,” she said, knowing that that was perhaps a bit disingenuous, but the world was complicated.
    An odious man like Helen’s mean-spirited husband probably thought that Emily was naïve or ignorant, but she really couldn’t tell what to think about the world within New York City, let alone the rest of the country or the world. She couldn’t really do anything about Europeans slaughtering each other, negroes being lynched, or any of the things far beyond her control. As much as she still hoped that the Republicans would field a woman for the Senate, she had even become disconnected from that struggle which she had taken on as a pet cause for the past few years without much success apart from nice get-togethers and hearing good speeches. She had become rather disillusioned with politics lately, and she wasn’t sure why. Maybe it just didn’t matter what she did. Everything was just feeling downright pointless.

Chapter 8
    “We need another two months at the very least, esteemed lords and gentlemen,” the senior general said, seemingly rather displeased by the suggestion that the offensive might have to be organized far ahead of schedule. “The organization will have to be impeccable so that we can be certain of victory.”
    The long table in the middle of the hall had long lines of uniformed men on either side from both the civilian government and the army and the navy with aides and assistants sitting further behind them to take notes or to provide information to their superiors. His Majesty the Emperor was accompanied by his personal military advisors who sat up on the slightly raised dais at the head of the long table as the Supreme War Council for the most part only gave running updates on what had happened since the last meeting, and the Emperor would rarely open His mouth during the proceedings, perhaps discussing them in detail with his close retainers afterwards.
    “The German g overnment insists on our action,” the deputy foreign minister said sternly in opposition to the general. “It is my understanding that if a Russian offensive this year is successful, the European front might crack altogether. I wonder if the Imperial Army will be willing to fight Russia and France even if Germany and Austria would be compelled to surrender!”
    “The Imperial Army cannot move hundreds of thousands of troops just on a whim,” Senior General Mada retorted. “I could be in a minority, but I wish to follow the agreed upon plan.”
    General Mada was one of the old men heading the General Staff ’s highest cabal of generals—the Boys’ Club—and he also belonged to a faction of it that was not particularly fond of the kind of war that was being planned by the faction which the Emperor had favored after the terrible losses of the aborted invasion of central Russian Turkestan north of the Tenshan Mountains at the outset of the war. Although their offensives in the Far East had been successful, the retreat and subsequent Russian invasion of the Altay region of Shinkyou and the fighting to expel the Russians back in late 1934 had left the entire Imperial Army establishment in a shaken state that had still not quite been shed after a year