If someone invades your country unprovoked and proceeds to run amok, viking-style, seizing territory, raping and pillaging, you’ll be forgiven for pretty much whatever you do next, up to and including assassinations and sabotage.

It’s unfortunate, for example, that Daria Dugina died in a car bomb meant for her father, but… well, such is life, or in this case such is death, when the family business is bastardizing philosophy in the service of Vladimir Putin’s tsarist nationalism.

It’s “unfortunate” (in scare quotes this time) that Igor Kirillov, the Russian general whose remit included chemical and nuclear weapons, was demoted last month to a red snow stain, but… well, it wouldn’t be inaccurate to suggest Igor had it coming.

It’s also unfortunate — in some ways, at least — that the Nord Stream became a casualty of the war in Ukraine, but you know what they say about “desperate times.”

That brings us neatly to Wednesday, when Gazprom closed the taps on gas supplies across Ukraine citing “repeated and explicit refusal of the Ukrainian side to extend these agreements.” “These agreements” was a reference to a five-year-old transit deal which expired on New Year’s Day.

Kyiv’s explanation was straightforward. Summarized: We’re at war with Russia, and gas revenue’s a meaningful source of funds for Putin’s war machine, so we’re not signing another deal.

The disruption, which could be semi-permanent (if you’ll pardon the oxymoron), was expected. Early last month, both Volodymyr Zelensky and Putin made it clear that no new contract would be inked, certainly not in time to avoid a cutoff, and maybe not ever. Brussels on Wednesday reiterated that Europe was prepared for the collapse of the transit deal.

One person who isn’t prepared (and who isn’t amused) is Slovak Prime Minister Robert Fico, whose country may lose as much as half a billion per year in transit duties as a result of the stoppage. “Are we just going to let that pipeline dry up?” he asked last month.

The answer, as it turns out, is “yes.” Yes, “we” are going to “just” let that “dry up,” because, again, there’s something undeniably absurd about requiring Ukraine — a country fighting an existential bloody trench war to preserve its sovereignty — to facilitate cash flows to its would-be conquerer.

Last week, Fico said he may retaliate against Kyiv by cutting off emergency electricity supplies, effectively making Ukraine even more vulnerable amid incessant Russian attacks on the country’s energy infrastructure. Zelensky decried Fico’s threats as “completely immoral” and anyway counterproductive: Ukraine pays for that backup supply.

“The only reason Ukraine now needs to import electricity is Russia’s occupation of the Zaporizhzhia nuclear power plant and its use of missiles and [Iranian] drones to purposefully destroy a large portion of Ukraine’s heat and hydroelectric power generation,” Zelensky said, noting that Fico’s decision calculus “has already deprived the Slovak people of compensation for losing Russian gas transit [and] now risks depriving the Slovaks of another $200 million per year, which Ukraine pays for the imported electricity.”

Fico showed up in Moscow late last month for a meeting with Putin, becoming just the third Western leader to dignify Dugin’s tsar in person, at the Kremlin, since the invasion. (The other two are Karl Nehammer and, of course, Viktor Orban).

In 2023, Fico, upon becoming prime minister (again), ended arms shipments to Ukraine, insisting that “an immediate halt to military operations is the best solution we have.” Three weeks ago, he wondered aloud about the rationale for letting the transit deal lapse. “In the name of what?” he demanded. “Because you don’t like the Russians? Fine, I like them.”