At the round table, several individuals clad in suits pounded on the table with visible indignation. In the center of the table lay a plan book, its cover white and stamped with a bright red seal. A line of German text declared the document to be of top-secret level. Prominently positioned at the center of the cover was the code name of the plan, stark and foreboding: "Pluto Project."
On the opposite side of the table, a group of military representatives maintained a calm and relaxed demeanor. One elderly general nonchalantly sipped his tea, observing the agitated politicians as if watching a theatrical performance, occasionally chuckling to express his disdain.
The head politician, President Ebert of Germany's current government, slammed his fist on the table and bellowed, "What is this? What is the military doing? This is not a disarmament plan at all! This could retain almost half of the entire German military force!"
His words immediately drew nods of agreement. Another politician jumped to his feet, waving a copy of the document and exclaiming, "Look at this! What does it say? 'Empire'? Training hundreds of thousands of soldiers who were forced to retire, embedding them in every corner of the empire, and even sending them abroad for espionage or special operations when needed. Such large-scale deployment of spies will surely provoke international disputes!"
He slammed the document down, the pages making a sharp, crackling sound. "And what about secretly placing officers in civilian roles within the government? Are we supposed to arrange for 700 officers of major rank and above, and three thousand lieutenants? Is this the setup for a military government?"
General Sikte, with a stoic expression, responded calmly without looking at the agitated speaker, "Sir, I hope you consider your words carefully! If you represent the government, then the National Defense Force will have to reconsider its stance towards the government!"
President Ebert quickly stood, calming his colleague who was still seething with anger, and guided him back to his seat. "We all recognize the hardships faced by the National Defense Force and support its covert operations to safeguard Germany's basic security. However, such blatant violation of the 'Versailles Peace Treaty' will not be overlooked by the Allied Commission!"
"It's the military's responsibility to manage the Allied committee's oversight. What we need now is the government's unwavering support!" General Sikter interjected sharply, cutting off Ebert's complaints.
"There's a sub-plan here about training pilots and tank operators abroad. This involves diplomatic concerns. We cannot support this. Once discussions at the ambassadorial level begin, keeping the negotiations under wraps will be impossible!" The Foreign Minister raised practical concerns quietly, not openly opposing but highlighting significant challenges.
General Hickett glanced at Akado, who stood erect behind him, and gestured for him to step forward and explain the plan. Akado knew this was his moment. The success of the plan, and consequently the revitalization of the National Defense Force, hinged on government support. Stepping forward confidently, he began, "Gentlemen, the military will handle this plan independently. We will directly negotiate with the relevant countries and sign confidential agreements that will not implicate the government. Even if these actions come to light, the government can fully deny any involvement."
An old man, who had remained silent until now, suddenly spoke up. He had a large, bushy beard and wore a tight-fitting German army uniform, his burly frame making him appear mountainous. He was Field Marshal Hindenburg, a highly respected figure in the German military. "Young man! The word 'responsibility' is easily uttered, but are you aware of the grave consequences it entails?"
Akado snapped to attention, saluting the Field Marshal with a sharp click of his heels. "Marshal! I dedicate my life to the service of the German Wehrmacht."
"Soldiers prepared for sacrifice often endure," Hindenburg muttered softly, then turned to General Sikte. "How long has he been a major under your command?"
"Seven months," Sikte replied respectfully.
"Very well," Hindenburg nodded. "Promote Lieutenant Colonel Akado to oversee the Pluto Project, and commence with the fourth phase immediately. Discuss and finalize the other plans and report back to me."
President Ebert's eyebrows rose. With Hindenburg's endorsement of the plan and the sudden promotion of Akado, a relatively unknown officer, it was clear that the military's ambitions were formidable and needed careful oversight.
"Marshal, we support this initiative, but the billions of marks required—we simply don't have that kind of money right now. With such a vast amount, it's not feasible, and we can't conceal this from the Allied committee," Ebert argued, hoping to sway the decision.
"So, since you support the plan, you must provide the funds we need!" Akado retorted sharply, his eyes narrowing.
The meeting concluded largely in favor of the National Defense Forces. The government officials agreed to allocate 13 billion German marks for the entire "Pluto Project." A significant portion of these funds was openly distributed to the army under the guise of veteran resettlement. Once the money was transferred to the National Defense Force's accounts, it was quickly spent. The cost of demobilizing veterans was substantial, and despite delaying the demobilization, the funds were insufficient to cover all expenses. Veterans demanded their dues, salaries for the active new National Defense Force needed to be paid, old warships renovated, and aircraft dismantled. After exhausting the 13 billion marks, Akado and Sikte found that not a single penny had been spent on new weaponry.
"This is unacceptable!" Akado exclaimed in frustration in his office. He was visibly upset with the allocation plan, which clearly compromised with the joint arms control committee. Slamming his fist on the plan, he continued, "My Excellency! To build a new defense force, we need at least 700 new vehicles and new communication equipment! The infantry's guns also need replacing, and our army's training consumes about 10 million rounds of ammunition each year."
"We can only carry out these plans covertly! Understand, Akado! The coalition arms control committee is watching us very closely! We cannot follow our plan to the letter! Also, training ammunition can be diverted from the Imperial Reserve. We will not use these outdated munitions in the future anyway; let's use them for training! This is the only solution I can offer you for now; the rest you'll have to figure out on your own," General Sikte explained, his tone a mixture of frustration and resignation.
"What about the fake accounts? How is that proceeding?" Sikte inquired, shifting the topic to a more practical issue.
Akado loosened his collar to ease his tension and replied, "We've created 70 million marks' worth of fictitious accounts in the funds allocated for demobilizing the old army. We've used non-existent troops to claim demobilization costs and misrepresented the majority of the actual troops."
Sikte nodded approvingly. "Excellent work! Use half of that money for the operation of the tack and the other half to fund military factories to continue the research on new weapons. Although we can't produce weapons now, we must ensure that once we do, they are the best in the world!"
"Yes, Your Excellency General!" Akado responded, standing at attention.
Sikte smiled, satisfied with the progress, and continued to outline the tasks. "The first phase of Operation Tacket should focus on domestic deployment and monitoring all enemy defense forces. Do you understand?"
"Understood!" Akado replied, his voice firm.
"The documents for your promotion have been approved. From tomorrow, you will be Lieutenant Colonel Akado Rudolph. How does that sound?" Sikte asked, a hint of pride in his voice.
Knowing that Sikte preferred not to dwell on this sensitive topic, Akado shifted the conversation. "A soldier who doesn't aspire to be a general isn't a good soldier, right?"
"If you had been born two decades earlier, perhaps our emperor wouldn't have faced such humiliation," Sikte remarked with a sigh, openly expressing his support for Emperor William in front of Akado, indicating his trust in him.
Akado knew Sikte's comment also implied an invitation to join the circles of the royalists. However, he was not a mere pawn in the emperor's restoration game; he aspired to lead the Third Reich. "History is irrelevant, Your Excellency General. I am more concerned with the future," Akado stated, tactfully avoiding Sikte's implication.
"The future? I hope the future you speak of is for the German people," Sikte said, closing his eyes and waving Akado out of his office.
Akado's promotion ceremony was brief yet significant. It was brief because it was conducted secretly and exclusively for him. It was significant because Field Marshal Hindenburg personally awarded him a newly established medal of contribution and promoted him to Lieutenant Colonel of the German Wehrmacht. Amid the applause celebrating his promotion, the first phase of the "Pluto Project" was fully initiated. The Black National Defense Force, consisting of 60,000 personnel, was disbanded, and 15 new divisions of the National Defense Force were reorganized, boldly defying the stipulations of the Treaty of Versailles.