Abyssus Abyssum Invocat

by Carlo Zen

  It’s interesting how in a single battle, the outcome of a person’s actions clearly indicates whether they should be killed or survive to be exploited.

  “And get the infantry moving on the double. A company with Lieutenant Grantz commanding, and have Lieutenant Wüstemann’s mage unit go with them.”

  “Understood. Right away, ma’am!”

  We’ll flood the gap the armored unit opened with infantry. Infantry is the branch of the armed forces that is like water. Where there’s a hole, it will soak right in.

  Thus.

  Or perhaps it would be better to say as a matter of course…

  By the time the sun rises, the Salamander Kampfgruppe stands on the battleground as the victor. As if our reign will last forever.

  And on top of that, the fighter planes Fleet Command dispatched to support us have been strafing the ground one after the other, improving the results of the pursuit battle even more. They may be fighting fierce air battles where entire forces are lost over the main lines, but here in the northeast, imperial air superiority is unwavering.

  Faced with the imperial fleet and its all-encompassing control of the sky, the Federation is silent. They recognize the hopeless power disparity.

  And so, by the time the sun is setting once more, the imperial troops have complete control of the field.

  It’s a victory.

  Though it was a small battle, this regiment overcame two brigades with furious effort.

  And who did it? The provisional Salamander Kampfgruppe, which had only just been formed. This proves without a doubt the flexibility of Kampfgruppe formation and operation for the General Staff, too. Well, they won’t not appreciate us, regardless.

  In Tanya’s mind, they won’t not appreciate us means their evaluations of us won’t decrease and we won’t be overworked.

  But Tanya is confident that she’s a good, sensible person.

  She understands very well that taking on such an unusual attitude when you’ve won is strange. In most cases, victory is socially recognized as a result to be celebrated.

  We’ve repelled a large number of enemies while incurring few casualties.

  Tanya is accommodating enough to understand that her troops would want to celebrate.

  In one room of the building where the Kampfgruppe HQ is located…

  Chairs and tables are arranged in what seems to have been a dining room at some point. Here, Tanya bows her head to the key players of the victory.

  “Nice work, troops.”

  Prefacing with a comment that the offerings are nothing special, she brings out bottles from her personal stash (which every officer should have hidden away somewhere). These are the drinks she’s been keeping to thank her men with, and she pours for them herself. Finally, she lifts her coffee cup and makes a toast.

  “To our victory!”

  “““To victory!”””

  Now, then. Tanya sets about doing what she needs to get done before the officers get drunk. “First, Captain Meybert, I want to express my respect for your work. I misjudged you a bit. I hope you’ll accept my apology.”

  An officer’s apology to a subordinate is the moment they reveal that their view was wrong. It’s not an easy thing to do. But it’s better than being seen as a fool who can’t recognize their mistakes.

  “No, it’s thanks to the proper observation that we got results. We owe much of our success to Major Weiss’s skill.”

  “But the first shot was so close! Your unit does good work, Captain Meybert. You’re so skilled I’m not even sure you need spotters.”

  “What? No, we were only able to perform so well because you were there. You flew at night, and we even asked you to spot for us! Any run-of-the-mill artillery officer would be able to get results with your support. Having eyes in the sky makes all the difference.”

  Listening to Weiss and Meybert’s exchange, it’s clear they’re both professionals who know their jobs well and respect each other.

  Boy. Tanya cracks a smile. I’ve got a ways to go.

  For better or worse, she’s been judging people with the temperaments of craftsmen by the standards of average folks.

  They need to be evaluated on their specialized skills. Obsessed with artillery? No, he’s a specialist. This is a man who knows how to use the artillery. He has a thorough knowledge of it. That is Captain Meybert. If that’s the case, then it’s Tanya the staff officer’s job to understand how to best use his skills.

  Evaluating officers based on prejudices is a grave error.

  From now on, I’ll have to get over my anger at people obsessed with their specialties and my past traumas related to them so I can learn to assess these craftsmen in more appropriate ways.

  “Very good. Major Weiss, you should sincerely accept Captain Meybert’s compliments. You did an excellent job, too. Thank you for patrolling. And…” Tanya turns her praise on the equally talented armor commander. “You too, Captain Ahrens. About that last charge in the counterattack, it was magnificent how you maintained unit discipline despite the fact that the operation took place before daybreak. And that’s all I can say.”

  “Thank you, Colonel. I don’t know if it makes me lucky or unlucky, but I seem to have gotten used to the east’s famous night raids. It feels like I’m back home, or something like it.”

  “Me too. Man, I’m not sure how I feel about getting used to having my sleep disrupted, though. I wish they would at least let me sleep at night like the kid I am.”

  When she mumbles how tired she is and bites back a yawn, her subordinates smile awkwardly. Well, it’s no wonder she gets laughed at.

  That said, it’s a physiological demand. As long as my body wants sleep, there’s nothing I can do about it. Even Tanya must throw in the towel. Sleeps affects adults and children differently. My great need for sleep is just another facet of my personal situation.

  But before she gives in to her sleepiness, Tanya remembers one more thing she must say. “Now then, I’ll be honest. Lieutenant Tospan, I’m disappointed. Regardless of any directions Captain Thon gave you, failing to report actions that go against my orders is a problem.”

  “…Yes, ma’am.”

  There are way too many people who misunderstand this, which is frustrating. The only people allowed to take actions not in the manual to cope with situations not in the manual are people who have mastered the manual itself.

  If someone who doesn’t have a good handle on the basics just does whatever they want, we’re only going to have problems.

  An officer’s permission to act on their own authority is the same. Frankly, it’s discretionary power for officers with intelligence. It is absolutely not a justification for numbskulls to act like the idiots they are.

  “Given your record thus far, I’ve judged that you don’t deserve the word insubordination yet. There won’t be a next time.”

  You never know what kind of ways people who don’t know the standards will deviate when they tweak the manual, whether it’s customer service or following military procedures.

  Although Tanya hasn’t explicitly explained this to Tospan, she has found one use for this stupid parrot who can only faithfully repeat what Captain Thon said.

  First Lieutenant Tospan’s only function is to spit back out whatever he’s told.

  In other words, regardless of what an officer like Tanya orders him, his only function is to stubbornly say whatever his direct superior tells him to… There are ways to use an automaton who doesn’t inquire any further than necessary, right?

  It’s just like shogi pieces. A pawn may not be a critical piece, but it has its uses.

  “Lieutenant Tospan only lacks experience. After growing from this battle, I’m sure he’ll endeavor to redeem his name in future actions.”

  “Major Weiss, aren’t you going a bit too easy on him? Anyhow, what I said stands. Don’t betray my expectations again.”

  “Yes, ma’am. I’ll do what I can.”

  “Very good. I hope you’ll l
earn well from this.”

  If Tospan can just learn who his real boss is, that’ll be plenty. If he can do that much, I should be able to find a use for him.

  The Empire is running out of human resources. We may belong to the General Staff, but that doesn’t free us from having to deal with inferior quality resources.

  We have to learn how to come to terms with our situation and make what we have work for us.

  “Oh, speaking of a lack of experience, Lieutenant Wüstemann. I’m expecting a lot of growth out of you and your mage company. But today I’ll be content that you put up a good fight.”

  In that sense, Wüstemann and the others who were sent to replace the ten we lost are not horrible substitutes.

  On the other hand, as a good pacifist, Tanya von Degurechaff is forced to grieve. War wastes so much human capital.

  “But seriously, combat where the goal is attrition feels so wasteful. I want to hurry up and get this over with.”

  The other officers smile and agree with their superior. It’s only natural, since war is a risk surely no one welcomes.

  For some reason, the world always thinks soldiers are pro-war, but that couldn’t be further from the truth.

  The fundamental truth is that soldiers detest war. And the officers serving in combat units on the forward-most line wish for peace like the most dedicated of specialists.

  And a pacifist as passionate as I am must be a rarity, Tanya thinks as she reflects on herself. I’m opposed to the barbarous concept of war from the bottom of my heart.

  I grip this gun and this orb solely due to my contract with the Reich.

  “All right, troops, nice work. It may be difficult to relax and celebrate while the tension is still fresh, but…I want to allow each unit their celebratory toast.”

  From the bottom of my heart, I can pledge my soul and proclaim my wish.

  Even in our exceedingly harsh reality, where the god we should pray to is nowhere to be found and an evil called Being X or whatever runs amok…

  …It’s important to have hopes and dreams.

  “Okay, then once again: To victory! And to the hope that this war ends soon! Cheers!”

  “““Cheers!”””

  OCTOBER 20, UNIFIED YEAR 1926, THE NORTHEASTERN PART OF THE EASTERN FRONT, THE SALAMANDER KAMPFGRUPPE GARRISON

  It’s so simple to say to “make toasts to victory.”

  But…when Tanya’s eyes open in the bed in the house where she’s rooming, she grins wryly as she gets up.

  Minors are prohibited from drinking and smoking. There aren’t any exceptions for that, even in the military. About all you can do is suck on some candy.

  More importantly, this immature body cannot resist the sleepiness and stay up at night. Of course, this meant that Tanya went to bed at a healthy hour last night as per usual.

  But there was another reason she left early. When their superior is hanging around, the troops probably feel like they can’t let their hair down. There’s no reason to keep up that tense boss-and-subordinate relationship even off duty.

  Tanya was considerate enough to allow them to partake in their post-combat drinks in peace. As a result, she has woken up fairly early, but it’s a refreshing wakefulness.

  That said, everyone else was probably up late drinking. Having slowly slipped out of bed so as not to wake her adjutant and orderly, Tanya reaches for the water jug herself.

  No, she half reaches for it.

  The moment her hand touches the ceramic…she suddenly notices an unusual chill.

  “Hmm?”

  Wondering if she has a cold, she puts on her cold-weather high-altitude flying coat, immediately feeling better.

  Perhaps the temperature has simply dropped. Even for early morning, this cold is awfully intense. It’s cold even for fall. Almost as chilly as when I’m flying.

  Am I coming down with something after all?

  Should I have the kitchen in HQ prepare me something warm to drink just in case?

  With that in mind, Tanya steps outside the house to go see the officers on duty. That’s when she realizes.

  It’s strange. Tanya stops in her tracks, assailed by an intense feeling that something is wrong. Something has changed. Something has appeared that shouldn’t be here.

  It’s…the color.

  The color…the color of the world is wrong.

  Everything is different from yesterday. With a sigh, she looks up at the sky, which is completely overcast and irritatingly white.

  White. She freezes in spite of herself at the brutal color.

  She recoils, but as her leg tries to take a step back, she forces it to stay still through her willpower. In front of her dance pale, delicate sparkles.

  They’re fantastically beautiful. Perhaps if things were different, she could have written a poem about them.

  But now all they are to her is a mass of fear.

  She glares as if she can melt them with the heat of her gaze, but alas, she is forced to realize she cannot win.

  Her clenched fist speaks for her.

  If she could scream, she would.

  She would abandon herself to her emotions and release the You’re kidding me stuck in her throat.

  She’s been keeping a close watch on the weather forecasts.

  Yes, even though the weather team guaranteed them two more weeks, she’s been requesting the meteorologic maps and going over them every day without fail.

  But despite that, despite all that, it’s snowing?

  It’s such a splendidly malicious present. It means the magnificent and most dreadful eastern winter is upon us. Everything will be covered in snow, which will turn to slush and eventually transform the terrain into muddy swampland.

  It’s the worst season. When armies are forced to give up on the whole concept of movement and can only writhe in place.

  Tanya glares up at the sky and murmurs, “But if the heavens stand in our way, then we’ll win against the heavens. We must.”

  How many more nights will the Imperial Army officers be able to sleep without shivering?

  It’s easy to deceive herself. This snow is unseasonably early.

  She can also cling to the fair weather forecast. Tomorrow it will clear up.

  But it’s meaningless.

  If she can’t accept reality and face the terrible situation, all that road leads to is a dead end. She would scatter her bones on this rotten land after becoming a frozen corpse.

  That’s an exceedingly unpleasant conclusion.

  Anything—anything but that awful fate.

  “…I have to survive. I have to survive and go home. I do and my men do, too. I don’t have any surplus personnel to hand over to that fucker General Winter or whoever.”

  So Tanya sets off once more for HQ. She’s in such a hurry, she begins to jog and then eventually run. She calls out to the duty officers.

  I suppose this is the usual.

  “How are we doing on winter prep?!”

  When Tanya comes flying through the door, her question is impatient.

  “As far as cold-weather gear, we have high-altitude operation uniforms for the mage battalion, but… Colonel, I’m sorry to say that we don’t have enough for the entire Kampfgruppe…”

  “I…really don’t think we have enough gear for the entire Kampfgruppe.”

  Despite the party last night, Major Weiss and First Lieutenant Serebryakov, who are on duty, give clear answers.

  “Hmph. Lieutenant!”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Question the prisoners. Find someone who worked in acquiring clothing. Preferably someone from near this area. I want to ask them about winter and get their opinion.”

  “Are you sure?”

  It makes sense for Serebryakov to be concerned and ask that question. It’s definitely a possibility that such questions could reveal to the prisoners that we’re hurrying to prepare for winter.

  But Tanya is able to make her declaration with confidence. “It’s more impor
tant to get through the winter than worry about giving the prisoners information they don’t need to know.”

  The difference between a field army having countermeasures for the cold or not is a fatal one.

  “The air fleet owes us a favor. Let’s have them deliver some warm clothes to us from home.”

  “I’ll authorize that. Major Weiss, if necessary, use funds from the Kampfgruppe treasury. You can also use General Staff classified funds.”

  “…Are you sure?”

  “Of course.” Tanya doubles down. “What do you think those classified funds are for? Should I have used them to buy a ticket to my class reunion?”

  “Ha-ha-ha! Like to buy your dress.”

  “For real. We can have a ball on this pure-white dance floor.”

  It’s as good as if General Winter had invited me to a ball—shells with a chance of plasma splatter as we whirl through the sky above this snow-white field.

  How wonderful it would be to scream, Eat shit! and leave.

  “Excuse the question, Colonel, but do you know how to dance?”

  In response to Serebryakov’s tangential question, Tanya smiles. “I’m an amateur, and I can’t hide it unless I’m dressed up. So I don’t mind if I leave the dancing to the people who know what they’re doing. But no one knows how, probably,” Tanya adds in annoyance.

  For better or worse, the Imperial Army is specialized for interior lines strategy with the assumption of national defense.

  The winter envisioned by the army mainly deployed around the Empire is not extremely cold, with the exception of Norden.

  “Anyhow, wake up the officers. I don’t care if they’re hung over from their toasts.”

  “Freezing snow will be just the thing to wake them up from their dreams of victory.”

  “I think it might be too effective…”

  “While you’re at it, have the other officers discuss cold-weather countermeasures in their units. Tell them to maintain at least minimum field operation capability.”

  And so, standing before the gathered officers, Tanya swallows her sighs and broaches the topic with her usual frankness.