by Carlo Zen
There, Tanya finally regains her more intelligent side. I guess I got a bit too high on the abnormal circumstances of combat, she reflects in frustration.
Her original objective was to seize one of the enemy’s new orbs. If she shot them down, there’s no reason she has to let that distinction go to someone else.
“We’re going to search the enemy crash site. The purpose is to recover a set of gear. I want to recover a body, but if we can take prisoners, that’s even better.”
She decides to prioritize acquiring one of the new enemy computation orbs.
If we can recover a corpse, we can learn about how their soldiers are outfitted and what their nutrition is like, so add on another order to the list.
“We don’t have much time. Get it done.”
Luckily, she’s able to borrow some NCOs from the local unit as it flails around trying to get organized, so there are plenty of people.
Of course, what she gives them is an order, but she doesn’t forget to add a “please” to be nice. If your staff hates you, your abilities as a manager are limited. It’s natural to avoid harsh wording unless it’s absolutely necessary when dealing with people.
The fact that there are too many newbies who don’t understand that is vexing. And then there’s the despair when they learn that they’ve signed on as general-purpose workers.
Well, I learn from history. Tanya smiles wryly.
That is, I follow precedents.
If you do what ends up formulized as the result of trial and error, things will usually go well.
“Also, find out how many casualties our fellow troops took.”
“Ma’am?”
“I want to know how the losses stack up. It’s always painful to make sacrifices, but I think it’s important to know what they are.”
I’m acting like a politician, but I guess that’s handy know-how.
Pretending to care about these sort of losses is a mandatory skill for those with ambitions to climb the ladder. Having an empathetic attitude is an important social technique. You especially can’t neglect it internally at an organization if you’re hoping to bend people’s ears.
Regardless of the truth, appearances are critical. This is the equivalent of saying Sorry for your loss, but politics have already proven that even that much is effective. There exists an incomprehensible concept called the “sympathy vote.” Some people choose someone simply because they don’t hate them—and this phenomenon is widespread enough that those votes can decide an election. That’s what humans are like.
That’s why whether or not you actually feel the pain of the world, it doesn’t hurt to pretend you do when you have time.
“Understood.”
My fighters fly off with dreamy salutes.
Surely they don’t doubt my intentions.
Having them express sincere sympathy will be more credible than Tanya grinning as she offers condolences.
Phew. At that point, she sighs and voices her impressions.
“They were tough. That armor! I can’t get behind that sort of hardness.”
Not even the Republican Army Named on the Rhine front were that durable. Of course, they were that much more mobile and had that much more firepower, so if anyone’s asking which one is the better deal, I’d have to say that using the Federation’s new model makes you a bit of a sitting duck, but…being able to produce a defensive shell more durable than a Named is enough to be a threat to most on its own.
“A level of toughness that lets you ignore differences in altitude is disconcerting.”
Nodding at her adjutant’s comment, Tanya painfully spits, “That took some doing even for us! A normal infantry unit would be out of luck. They’d be broken before their guns could penetrate the defensive shells.”
She’s forced to admit that this really is a problematic new model. Since they’re so sturdy, it takes time to shoot them down.
Considering the Federation’s materialistic attitude, this could be a huge problem—we can’t ignore it. The casualties that would result from a run-in between Federation mages and our ground troops would be simply unacceptable.
Well, things would be different if the main ground forces were centered around a crack team of experienced NCOs.
“This is horrible. Our newbies are running around in a panic, and the Federation forces are just casually chasing after them.”
This is a pointless war of attrition devoid of even a hint of discipline. The realization that the nature of the conflict is beginning to shift toward amateurs merely butchering one another is anxiety-inducing.
The Empire has stumbled right into the muck of the eastern front and gotten sucked into the depths. This battle almost seems like commentary on that plight. What if the global situation worsens while we’re struggling here?
The Imperial Army is being ground down on the eastern front. No wonder Ildoa so much as squirming in the south is enough to set off shivers in the unflappable General Staff.
With time, the deterioration of the Empire’s strategic environment will accelerate. That’s the honest truth. Which is why…Tanya had no choice but to accept Colonel von Lergen’s proposal.
We have to take this Ildoan guest and bind him to our side. What a headache, thinks Tanya as she imagines just briefly what’s to come.
TO THE UNIFIED YEAR 1927 SPRING CONFERENCE ON COMBAT RESEARCH, REPORT ON THE NEW ENEMY ORB SEIZED ON THE EASTERN FRONT
My first impression is that it’s crude.
There’s no need to wait for the detailed technical analysis—the samples we’ve seized speak volumes. The new orb of Federation make that has appeared on the eastern front is constructed nowhere near as precisely as is the imperial standard. In the test officer’s view, “It’s like they have no concept of subtlety.”
According to the test battalion, “They’ve misunderstood mobility so badly, I want to scream at them to double-check the definition of an aerial mage. On top of being unforgivably sluggish and having a poor turn radius, it underperforms when compared to previous generations at similar altitudes. Due to this critical lack of precision crafting, users are more likely to hit friendlies than the enemy.”
Thus, everyone has come to the same unwavering conclusion.
That is, “This model is not suitable for our army’s operations.”
It boasts impressive firepower, but frankly, aside from its toughness, it’s difficult to say it surpasses our models. The previously stated opinion on the Federation’s new orb is unlikely to change.
That said, members of the Imperial Army reluctantly admit this orb possesses several distinct advantages.
One is that, since they’re not crafted with precision, they don’t demand as much skill from their users. The new orb is eminently suitable for mass-producing and issuing to mass-trained soldiers.
The second point is the high rate of survival. They may be sluggish, but the defense provided is high; an average infantry unit would have a hard time shooting down someone with one of these.
In conclusion? The General Staff is fretting. These properties make it clear that the new orb will be a natural enemy of the Imperial Army. Everyone scoffs, saying it’s a sign that an army that specializes in human-wave tactics is about to send in a huge amount of aerial mages.
An enemy with numerical superiority is going to challenge our top-quality army with so-so quality, and a lot of it.
This is going to be a major problem.
Report on the Type T3476 Computation Orb from Technology
[chapter] III Effort and Ingenuity
MAY 1, UNIFIED YEAR 1927, ILDOA, GENERAL GASSMAN’S OFFICE
When he walked into General Gassman’s office, the general himself stood to merrily welcome (or at least he wore a mask to that effect) the “mere” colonel.
“Colonel von Lergen, welcome to Ildoa. You must be exhausted after such a long trip. Please make yourself comfortable.”
The man’s amiable demeanor brimmed with affable warmth. Someone who didn�
��t know better might have shed tears in response to this mask. It’s hard not to be touched by such kindness coming from a general.
That said, the expression plastered on Colonel von Lergen’s face was also a mask. His words of gratitude, implying he was terribly moved, were practically a type of formal beauty.
“I thank our beloved ally for their hospitality.”
“Well, we’ve been neighbors for so long. We should help each other out when we’re in trouble.” He offered a fine cigar made in the south. “Care for one?” Even in the Reich’s capital, these had become scarce.
The ostentatious recommendation of a smoke made it impossible to not grasp the general’s implication. Though Lergen smiled and thanked him, he had mixed feelings. “…When we’re in trouble, yes, you’re quite right.”
“Ha-ha-ha. No need to be so stiff. I’d appreciate it if you didn’t pay so much attention to our rank discrepancy. After all, our countries are friends. I’d like to be as direct as we can.”
“Very well.” Lergen took advantage of that sentiment as he began to speak. “I’ll get straight to the point. Regarding your mediation of a compromise…”
“Let’s hear it.”
Nodding and smoking, the men continued their conversation.
“Allow me to be frank. The Imperial Army seems to be having a hard time in the east. We’d like to help you in some way.”
“…The Southern Continent Expeditionary Army Corps is so grateful for your generous assistance with supplies.”
“Oh right. There’s that, isn’t there?”
“I hear from the men in the field that there tend to be delays.”
“Not everything can go perfectly. I hope you’ll understand. Even if we have a duty to our ally, Ildoa has its own issues as well.”
“I realize that.”
“So you can take that into consideration for me?”
“Yes.” Lergen nodded at the general.
It was a bit difficult to tell what he was thinking. His gaze somewhat dubiously urged the general on. Well, it surely went both ways. Lergen yearned to know how Gassman and Ildoa felt about everything, too.
“To be honest, the Southern Continent Expeditionary Army Corps is considering pulling out. If necessary for negotiations, that is.”
“Oh? That’s promising news.” Gassman nodded with interest but then proceeded to cut to the chase with the same smile on his face. “But, Colonel von Lergen, you seem to be misunderstanding something.”
“Misunderstanding? I don’t know about that.” When Lergen feigned ignorance, Gassman rained criticism on him, still smiling.
“Who should the Empire really be talking to first? You’re currently fighting major battles—what about recovering peace there? That seems to be the most pressing matter to me.”
“You’re requesting negotiations while at the same time suggesting we should first negotiate with the party that’s attacking us? You’ll have to excuse me, but I don’t quite understand how the Kingdom of Ildoa does things.”
“Well, the Federation’s violent handling of the situation has its logic. But,” he continued, looking tired, “I’m sure you know everything has a cause.”
Even if they were aware of them, the Empire couldn’t accept the current situation. That was why Lergen the messenger had to play his part according to the script.
“General, please forgive this question, but what kind of logic do you mean?”
A small sigh. Gassman shook his head and spoke. “The provisional discussion plan your country proposed. Even for a starting place, honestly, it’s too greedy. Speaking objectively as a mediator, it brings your willingness to negotiate into question. Listen,” he continued, sounding somewhat exhausted, “the Federation wants an unconditional cease-fire with zero reparations or cessations.”
That’s expecting an awful lot. Lergen snorted. As the one in charge of negotiations, conveying that they would never swallow such outrageous terms was as good as his duty.
Which was why he, a colonel, had to take such an attitude toward a general. Under normal circumstances, he wouldn’t get off with merely breaking out in a cold sweat, but it must have been permitted here due to the mutual tacit understanding that this was simply how it would go… Well, that’s quite, uh, something.
“And in response, the Empire proposes a cease-fire that demands reparations, makes requests involving territory, and even assumes ‘local referendums have been held in occupied areas.’”
“Seeing as the Empire is the victim here, those seem like modest requests to me.”
“I understand your position, suffering as you have such terrible losses. But your requests strike me as much more avaricious than simple compensation would warrant.”
No matter what anyone said, surely the necessity of security was ample justification. Lergen’s strict orders from the home country were to secure a safe space. The General Staff was close to pleading for a safe zone even if territorial gains were kept to a minimum.
With the state’s security hanging in the balance, Lergen had no choice but to ignore his rank and butt heads on the matter.
“With all due respect, General, please just laugh about it.”
“Oh? So you have some self-awareness?”
“Please remember that I’m forced to say what ‘we demand.’ This isn’t my personal opinion but strict orders from the home country.”
Phew. The bitter look on the general’s face as he sighed was a good indication of how rough this was going to be.
“So not open negotiation but a working-level meeting. I’d sure like to reach an understanding…but isn’t that inflexible attitude of the Empire’s the reason the Federation is attacking?”
“What an utterly two-faced thing to say. Leave the bait-and-switch offers of negotiation that end in attacks to the ancient barbarians.”
“Fine. I understand well what the Empire is saying. As its ally, we’ll—yes, we’ll take proper measures.”
“Thank you ever so much for your consideration. Please do as you see fit.”
Both Gassman with his “Leave it to me” and Lergen bowing a Thank you understood the exchange, and the wordplay was recognized as negotiation to find a common ground.
To Lergen, representing the Empire—the party under fire—it was undeniable that the pushback he currently faced was weakening his position.
On his way back to the imperial embassy after respectfully leaving General Gassman’s office, he abruptly looked to the sky and wished for the troops to be victorious.
Please win.
How much better he would have felt if he could have stayed on the eastern front and led the Lergen Kampfgruppe himself! It was unbearable to only be able to hope.
“…Hmph. A Kampfgruppe commander who remains only in name is a pitiful wretch indeed.”
All he could do was believe—in the troops in the field and the friends he had left there.
MAY 1, UNIFIED YEAR 1927, IMPERIAL CAPITAL BERUN
In the War Room, where the air was thick with the purple smoke of cigars and cigarettes, and fortresses of stubs were being constructed in the ashtrays, Lieutenant General von Rudersdorf, sitting at the head of the table, spoke to request a report.
“What’s the general status on the eastern front?”
His voice wasn’t loud by any means, but it carried. The reply came from a part of the mechanism, the precision war machine, known as a staff officer.
“We’ve halted the enemy’s general offensive! The front lines are hanging together by a thread.” The expression on the Operations officer’s face was pleased. His somewhat-less-exhausted and impatient look said more than words could about what was going on in the area he was charged with. “The organized retreat is a success! Order is being restored in all units!”
“Nice work,” says Rudersdorf with a glance at his friend sitting next to him. The man’s expression was rather stern. Lieutenant General von Zettour sounded tired.
“How’s the mobilization and supply
stockpiling coming?”
“Not great. Since the forward depot has been demolished, the planned reorganization has to be put off for a little while.”
As a result of pulling the front line quite a ways back, the forward depot that had been built under the assumption there would be an advance was utterly demolished. Over the course of the winter and into spring, most of the supplies they had diligently stockpiled were burned. Perhaps the fact that they had destroyed most things before the enemies could get their hands on them was the one silver lining?
…But if that was the silver lining, it was clear how bad things were.
“The air fleet is solidly operational. We withstood the enemy’s attempt to cripple the air force and just barely managed to secure air superiority in all sectors.”
“Good.” Zettour nodded, though he had a few questions. “Assume the enemy air units could have reinforcements and keep working to maintain control of the skies. We’ve been handling requests for planes and personnel as they come up, correct?”
“Yes, General. About that. The two reconnaissance units you urgently deployed are up and running. We’re now capable of performing tactical reconnaissance all along the eastern front.”
“So we made it just in time.”
It was mostly the Operations men who sighed in relief. Their manager, Rudersdorf, especially, looked delighted, his face cracking into a smile.
“The recon net we carefully built was paralyzed so easily, we couldn’t be sure about the enemy’s intentions. You really saved us, Zettour.”
“Hearing you say that makes it worth the struggle of scraping them together.”
“So? I realize you haven’t analyzed the materials yet, but…how do you interpret the enemy’s offensive?”
“It’s extremely awful but just shy of lethal.”
Ultimately, the Empire’s forces had been hit at a bad time.
That was the undeniable truth.
“…The eastern front and the southern front are both a bit worrisome.”
“Oh right.” Zettour seemed to remember something and asked his old friend a question. “How’s the diplomacy going? What does the negotiation team have to say?”