The Last Tsar

"There is no illusion greater than fear"

~ Lao Tzu

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"It's… just personal papers, sir," Alexei stammered, his voice barely above a whisper.

The investigator raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed by the response. With a deliberate motion, he extended his gloved hand toward the desk.

"Open it."

Alexei hesitated, his trembling hands hovering over the drawer handle. Every second felt like an eternity. He could feel the weight of the other agents' eyes on him, their silent judgment pressing down like a stone.

"I-I swear, there's nothing of interest," Alexei pleaded, but his words sounded hollow even to himself.

"Now," the investigator demanded, his tone leaving no room for negotiation.

With no other choice, Alexei pulled the drawer open, revealing its contents. Inside were neatly stacked documents, a few personal letters, and… a small black ledger.

The investigator's eyes locked onto the ledger immediately. He reached in and picked it up, flipping through its pages with practiced efficiency. His expression remained neutral, but Alexei noticed the slight narrowing of his eyes as he scanned the entries.

"What is this?" the investigator asked, holding up the ledger.

Alexei's mouth went dry. He knew exactly what it was. A record of off-the-books transactions, bribes, and underhanded deals. His lifeline in the chaotic bureaucracy of the Okhrana, and now, potentially, his undoing.

"It's… it's nothing. Just notes," Alexei tried to dismiss it, his voice shaking.

"Notes?" the investigator echoed, his tone dripping with skepticism. He snapped the ledger shut and turned to the other agents.

"Take him in for questioning."

"No! Wait!" Alexei blurted out, panic overtaking him. "I can explain!"

Alexei kept shouting and screaming until what seemed like the leader of the team said:

"Wait. There might be just one way for you to get out of this."

"R-really? Please tell me, sir. I will do anything! For Russia!" Alexei said, shaking out of fear.

"If you want to escape unscathed, you have to give us information heavily outweighing yours on your coworkers and especially your superiors. If you have that, all the charges will be dropped and we will forget about this small letter." Replied the investigator indifferently.

This was actually an order from the Tsarevich. Nicholas couldn't purge the whole Okhrana as that would throw it into disarray. He only needed to purge the most corrupted, confiscate their money and properties, instilling fear on the rest.

The investigators were tasked with using this method when dealing with relatively minor offenders.

"I- I will comply. I only want to continue my life and I will never dare to do something like that again!" Alexei responded.

The same thing was happening all over St. Petersburg. The wheels of the purge kept turning. Reports flooded in from the newly formed Inspection Department. Friends turned on friends, loyalties were tested and the fate of the empire hung on the balance. 

The bureaucrats were utterly terrorized. Even if you were innocent, having your fate hanging in the balance and will of the 4 men before you was terrifying. Not that there was anyone completely innocent in Russia...

All over Russia, teams of three to four people went around, causing terror to everyone who saw their insignia. Fedorov had organized everyone into teams of 3-4 people. Each person on the team was responsible for the integrity of their team. If 1 of the investigators on their team broke a law or took a bribe, the whole team would be punished as accomplices. So the investigators were essentially controlling each other.

...

In the conference room of a grand estate near Nevsky Prospekt, Count Alexander Stroganov, a towering figure with a commanding presence, sat at the head of a long oak table. Around him were several conservative nobles, bureaucrats, and military officers.

"The boy has overstepped," Stroganov declared, slamming his hand onto the table. His icy blue eyes scanned the room, daring anyone to disagree. "A purge of the Okhrana? And under the authority of a crown prince, not even the Tsar?"

"But Count," began one of the nobles hesitantly, "His Majesty Alexander has sanctioned this. Prince Nicholas is acting with his blessing."

"Sanctioned in name only," Stroganov snapped. "The Tsar is bedridden, and the boy has taken advantage of his weakened state. This…this 'purge' is a thinly veiled power grab. If we let him continue, the balance of power between the Crown and the nobility will be shattered. Do you think he will stop with the Okhrana?"

Murmurs of agreement rippled through the room.

Stroganov leaned back in his chair, his expression calculating. "We cannot confront him openly; not yet. But we can sow doubt. The nobility respects tradition. Let us emphasize that this purge is a violation of established order. The Ministry of the Interior still has control of the Okhrana on paper. Let's use that to create delays."

"And what if he pushes through regardless?" asked General Mikhailovich, an aging but loyal officer.

"Then we target his allies," Stroganov said. "Ivan Fedorov is a boy playing with fire. He has no protection without Nicholas. Spread rumors of his misconduct, question his qualifications, and isolate him. As for Nicholas' financiers, remind them of the instability such reforms bring. No one wants to invest in a regime that might collapse under its own ambitions."

...

Back in the Winter Palace, Nicholas received word of Stroganov's gathering. Brusilov, ever blunt, delivered the news during a private meeting in Nicholas' study.

"Count Stroganov is rallying the conservatives, Your Highness. He won't move openly yet, but his hands are all over the bureaucratic delays we've been facing." Brusilov leaned forward. "He's also targeting Fedorov, spreading rumors that the lad is a corrupt opportunist."

Nicholas' face hardened. "Do they truly think I will bend so easily? Assemble my advisors. Stroganov wants to play games; we will not stand idle."

Mendeleev, standing nearby, offered a rare, sharp remark. "Stroganov's arrogance is his weakness. He underestimates your resolve. Use it."

Nicholas paced the length of the chamber. "Proud men do not yield easily. He will not act openly now, but he will rally opposition in secret. We need to prepare for that and ensure his influence is neutralized before it becomes a greater threat."

Witte nodded, ever the pragmatist. "He has deep ties within the Ministry of the Interior and the bureaucracy. If we do not act swiftly, those ties will tighten into a noose around your reforms."

"Agreed," Brusilov said, his voice gruff. "But the nobility won't risk open rebellion if they see the army standing firm with you. Leave that to me. I'll ensure the garrison commanders in St. Petersburg and Moscow are prepared for any disturbance. If Stroganov thinks of stirring up trouble, he'll find himself outmaneuvered before he begins. As long as St. Petersburg and Moscow are secure, we have nothing to fear."

Nicholas paused, nodding at Brusilov's words. "Good. I need visible strength from the army, but not too heavy-handed. The last thing we want is to make this look like a coup."

Turning to Ivan Fedorov, Nicholas handed him a sealed envelope bearing the Imperial seal. "Ivan, this contains orders signed with my father's approval, granting you full authority to inspect, investigate, and act within the Okhrana. If anyone questions you, present this. You are to root out Stroganov's agents within the organization immediately.

Ivan took the envelope with a steady hand, determination evident in his eyes. "It will be done, Your Highness."

"Use discretion," Nicholas warned. "The nobles will not take kindly to one of their own being exposed. Any findings must be airtight and indisputable."

Witte cleared his throat. "Your Highness, Stroganov's influence extends beyond the Interior Ministry. His ties to certain banking families and conservative factions mean we must secure financial stability as well. I recommend we move swiftly to consolidate treasury funds and ensure no disruption to the state's finances."

"Do it," Nicholas ordered. "If anyone dares tamper with the treasury, I want them dismissed immediately, regardless of rank or status."

As the meeting concluded, Nicholas rose, signaling the end of the discussion. "Gentlemen, you know your roles. Witte, secure the finances. Brusilov, ensure military readiness. Ivan, begin the purge immediately, but quietly. Mendeleev, continue your work on industrial modernization. We need the empire to see progress, not chaos."

The men nodded, each understanding the weight of their tasks.

In the dim light of the Winter Palace, Nicholas whispered to himself: "They may resist me now, but in time, they will see. Russia will rise again. Stronger, unified, and unshakable."

When he saw how the conservatives tried to hamper with progress, he felt less guilty about what he had started.