by Carlo Zen
“Councilor Abensoll, surely that isn’t all?”
“No, excuse me. In addition to the Republic, it appears the Commonwealth will send over some manner of assistance. At least, there is consensus among the great powers that they would like to stop us from being completely annihilated.”
Foreign Affairs Councilor Abensoll had trailed off, but at the urging of an older councilor, he presented some good news about a sympathetic neutral power’s foreign policy.
The Entente Alliance would receive a helping hand from another nation, in addition to the Republic, that wasn’t happy with the prospect of the Empire expanding its influence. The Commonwealth, known for its excellent naval forces, was concerned by the Empire’s sudden expansion on the continent, so it had decided to take the first step toward joining the battle. Its plan was to maintain the balance of power—not much more than an excuse, but that was why they could be trusted from a realpolitik standpoint.
“Ohh, the friendly Treaty of Londinium again? Though we’re the ones who broke it…”
Despite thinking it was probably a good thing, there was no way anyone present could be genuinely happy to accept the help. Any member of the Entente Alliance leadership who was familiar with how the other powers felt about them, given that they had broken the treaty, could understand that the Commonwealth had offered half as an insult.
“So what are our options?”
“After analyzing the Dacian War, the Republic told us they worry our rear regions are under-protected.”
Unlike the Republic, forced into a head-on clash with the Empire, the Entente Alliance was using its topography and climate to maintain its front. But in reality, what allowed the Entente Alliance to just barely hold was that the Empire didn’t consider it a serious threat and was treating it as a side project.
“…I’m envious of countries that have power to spare. We’ve got nothing left.” The interior councilor commented on the disparity in national strength, which was truly massive.
In fact, simply going at it with just one of the Empire’s army groups required the majority of the Entente Alliance’s resources to maintain the troops on the front lines.
“For now, we have mage units stationed to fend off any attempts at incursions in the rear. They should at least be able to handle most things before it becomes a serious problem.”
The Entente Alliance was on guard against surprise raids deep in their territory, but so far nothing major had come up—one of the leadership’s few comforts. The most they expected was a gamble by an imperial cavalry brigade to destroy Entente Alliance railways or an airborne operation by a handful of aerial mages. The Entente Alliance’s quick response division had been successful in repulsing everything that had come before with their mages, so they were fairly confident they could fend off most invasion attempts.
“The Commonwealth says they’re anxious about an imperial naval assault.”
“A seaborne invasion? I don’t mean to be master of the obvious, but couldn’t we just attack them once they make landfall?”
Foreign Affairs Councilor Abensoll himself was dubious, but the Commonwealth was seriously concerned the Empire would try an amphibious assault, and its officers were unanimous in voicing the warning. “I understand your country’s situation, but your coasts are wide open.”
“If our main forces are all tied up, even a small amphibious landing force could prove catastrophic.”
Abensoll had no choice but to warn his colleagues with a measure of anxiety that if invaders met no resistance when they made landfall, then it would open up the Entente Alliance to a thrust from behind and bring their whole country down.
“Councilor Abensoll, the Republican Navy doesn’t have the power to put a stop to that. And might I remind you we only have two capital ships ourselves?”
But he still managed to feel hopeful.
“That’s no problem. This is confidential, but the Commonwealth is already monitoring the Empire’s navy. The Republican fleet is apparently ready to deploy if need be.”
Which means…
“Gentlemen, time is key. We need to buy time.”
“We must ask the other powers to intervene. It’s utterly shameful, but we have no choice. In the meantime, let’s do our best.”
NOVEMBER 5, UNIFIED YEAR 1924, IMPERIAL CAPITAL GARRISON 14, AUDITORIUM
“Battalion Commander!”
In the auditorium where all the unit members have already gathered, the commander of Second Company, First Lieutenant Weiss, stands and salutes the battalion commander as she enters. The troops follow suit, saluting and voicing their greetings as Tanya gestures for everyone to be at ease. She takes the dais in the center and nods in satisfaction after glancing around at her men.
“I think you’ve already heard, but the 203rd Aerial Mage Battalion has been given transfer orders. We’re going to Norden.”
Man, that’s exactly what I don’t want to do, but I don’t let my opinion on this injustice show on Tanya’s face. Right now, it’s all hidden with that particular tone officers use to keep their emotions unreadable, but I sent a dozen complaints in writing to Lieutenant Colonel von Lergen about how much the military has been overworking Tanya. Rest and joint training for four months, plus two months of basic training to improve the recruits’ skills. The unit should have had six months of deferment. It was no small shock to have the unit declared trained and ready for deployment after their combat exercise in Dacia.
Running my gaze over the troops from the platform, I can understand how it was possible to see them as a disciplined unit brimming with confidence. With their field gear perfectly polished and their feet all lined up as if they were toeing a ruled edge, they do seem elite.
But the 203rd Aerial Mage Battalion isn’t as ready as the General Staff might want to believe. They have so many weak points remaining that it’s enough to give Tanya a headache as their commander. First, as exemplified by Lieutenant Weiss’s misstep in Dacia, most of them are still operating on an obsolete version of common sense, even if only partially. Of course, it’s true that after their baptism by fire, their understanding had changed so dramatically it wouldn’t be an exaggeration to call it a Copernican-level revolution. It was almost like Paul’s conversion—Tanya could practically bless them and inform all that they were on the right path. But that’s still nowhere near good enough.
“Naturally, the General Staff expects us to bring to Norden the same skills and quick thinking that we showed off in Dacia, so we need to be ready.” On Tanya’s face is a smile of anticipation, but it feels so forced. Well, that makes sense. This unit has never been through a tough fight. There are too many examples from history of game dogs who only just learned the sweet taste of victory and turned into a pack of cowed mongrels with a single loss. No one is weaker in the face of adversity than purebred elites, which applies to Tanya as well.
“Gentlemen, be proud that you’ve finally been given a chance to overcome a trial of fire and iron.”
No army can win forever. Even the USA, despite boasting that it would bomb its enemy back to the Stone Age, was long traumatized by the nightmare of guerrilla warfare. It dispelled the trauma momentarily in the Gulf, but when it got overconfident, the result was Iraq.
I recall that even the great Empire, one of the leading world powers, hasn’t achieved military strength on par with the USA’s dominance. I really need to cultivate subordinates who can withstand hardship.
Not only will I be branded as incompetent if I handle it poorly, it could literally mean death for me. After all, once a bunch of numbskulls who’ve never lost a battle collapse, they’re extremely fragile. An army with a broken spirit is simply a mob. Even with magic technology, it’s not as if soldiers can be miraculously imbued with an iron will to fight—although somewhere in my heart, I’m sure that’s what a certain mad scientist and his cohorts are trying to accomplish.
That said, at present, all I can do is manage as best I can with the cards I’ve been dealt. My
salary is looking better, and considering my raises on top of that, I need to work at least as hard as I’m getting paid.
“Gentlemen, Dacia was nothing but a live-fire exercise. Now it’s time for the real war you’ve all been thirsting for.”
The best part is probably that a whiff of war fever is coming off most of her handpicked subordinates. Under normal circumstances, of course, there would be nothing good about that at all, but the moment a unit has to go into battle, that trait becomes more than welcome.
“Give your all for His Imperial Majesty the Emperor and your fatherland. Never forget your duty.”
““““Yes, ma’am!””””
Their magnificent reply satisfies her for now.
In terms of personnel management, it can be necessary to remind them that their duty is commensurate with what they receive, but this time, given their reactions, there doesn’t seem to be any need. Of course, I can’t let my guard down.
It’s for the Empire that everyone seems so attached to and for myself. Yes, I’ll have them properly serve the apparently beautiful and respectable emperor as well as the fatherland… Luckily, my subordinates are strong, so in a worst-case scenario, they can be my shield, too.
It’s too bad they’re so obsessed with fighting, but for the most part, they’re still talented enough mages that I want to work with them.
“Good. Now we’ll hear the notice from the General Staff. Lieutenant Weiss.”
Of course, I’ll have my deputy explain the details. After all, that’s why the Empire and every other country established a system with adjutants and vice commanders.
“Ma’am. As you’ve already heard from our commander, this unit will serve as a mobile battalion.”
According to the notice from the General Staff, the 203rd Aerial Mage Battalion will be deployed in an entirely different way than being assigned to one of the army groups, as would be standard. We are the first unit created specifically as a mobile battalion.
Naturally, it’s safe to assume that there will be plenty of experimenting and that we’ll be expected to bring back a lot of informative reports. Due to our status as a unit the General Staff can deploy without coordinating heavily with an army group first, we won’t be picked on much as long as we can live up to their expectations. In other words, be an easy-to-use independent unit that promptly tackles any mission entrusted to us and we’ll have no problems. Yes, though it hasn’t been explicitly stated, we’ve been given de facto autonomy.
“To put it another way, we’ll be constantly shuttling around via interior lines.”
In other words, it’s an even exchange of authority and responsibility. If there is ever a problem on the front, we’ll be sent over and expected to resolve it immediately. To explain it simply, Tanya employs a simile.
“The General Staff’s working us like a team of harnessed draft horses. Rejoice. Apparently, they’ve prepared some carrots for us.”
I don’t know what the exact perks will be, but I predict the General Staff will do all they can in terms of salary increases and chances for promotions. Whether it will be enough for her men is another question.
“““Wa-ha-ha-ha-ha!”””
Well, laughing was probably all the troops could do. Who would happily go to war for a perk or two? The officers and generals might see a modest raise, but the rank-and-file soldiers don’t get much in terms of special rewards. It honestly isn’t a very good proposition considering they’re putting their lives in danger. Of course, if a free market system were in place, it would be up to each individual to decide whether it was worth it.
In that sense, the conscription system is outrageous. The Empire drafts people like Serebryakov who might be even slightly useful because the nation doesn’t have the resources to fully attend to its citizens’ rights… Tanya herself had no other option than to volunteer for the military for much the same reason.
I would prefer it if they switched to a system of voluntary military service as soon as possible. Or let me resign this very instant. Of course, only if I can still collect on my civil servant and commissioned officer pensions.
Tanya shakes her head slightly to clear out the extraneous thoughts, then gestures to Weiss, who was looking at her questioningly. She indicates that there’s nothing to worry about and has him continue.
“Battalion! Attention!”
The way the room quiets down the moment he shouts is extremely satisfying. At least they’re disciplined enough to follow instructions properly. Then again, of course soldiers should be able to do that much…
“Carrots or not, even horses aren’t lucky enough to eat for free.”
Lieutenant Weiss almost seems like he’s lecturing the soldiers as he insinuates that the unit is expected to produce results. Watching him talk to the troops is gratifying. I adjust my evaluation of him upward in a mental grade book. My vice commander isn’t half-bad.
No one likes meaningless expenditure. A racehorse is expected to win; a farm horse, to plow; a stud, to pass on his genes; and the workhorse earns its keep through pure labor. If the vice commander can understand that and explain it to others, he’s a keeper.
“Of course, we need to prove that we’re capable of handling a bit of work.”
I’ve never particularly wanted to be a horse. And I wouldn’t want to risk my human dignity by thinking I’d want to be “cultivated.” But if they’re going to wedge the carrot into my mouth, I’m not opposed to biting it—although it would be unfair if afterward they said, See? We’re supporting you, so get to it!
“We’ll be assigned to a mixed group drawn from the Eastern Army Group and the Southern Army Group, but we’re going to be under Northern Command as a unit dispatched from Central.”
Political dignity as a concept is honestly ridiculous. Perhaps political decisions that are considered without looking at the issues logically show its limitations. Then again, the dictatorship of an emperor or nobles can be just as terrible. Even democratic forms of government falling into the hands of mob rule may be due to latent defects within the system. Humans truly are political animals.
It’s possible that animals that have no honor are far more rational than any human. Of course, this might just be a misunderstanding, since we haven’t yet confirmed whether animals understand the concept or not.
“The General Staff wants us to test new combat tactics in the north.”
While listening to Lieutenant Weiss’s explanation, the essence of the message echoes in Tanya’s mind.
This is a test. In any case, we belong to the General Staff, and no army group on the front can order us around directly. Basically, we’re a unit the General Staff can send on missions without interference from the regional armies. I suppose all we can do is reconcile ourselves to our duty and follow our orders to put on a show.
I feel like a circus monkey being forced to perform for other monkeys. You could call it a species of abuse.
The only difference between me and the monkey is that there are countless protection groups dedicated to preventing animal cruelty. There is no organization that would shout That’s abuse! when it comes to imperial soldiers. I’d like the people who cry Animals are not your food!5 to spare a thought for us, too; people may be political animals, but we’re still animals.
I guess this is better than the pity of paternalists, though…
“…And so we’ve got to show them that we can work well enough in a group to go picnicking.”
We’re stuck with orders to go up north to try some new stratagem for the General Staff’s Operations Division. This isn’t really a mission that I want. It’s the same as being sent on a pointless business trip due to company hierarchy.
And talk about wasting time and resources. New tactics or whatever are generally just novelties; they can’t be trusted. And on the off chance there is an element that turns out to be something we could implement, how much trial and error will we be forced to do before it’s usable? Tanya hasn’t said much about it
to anyone, but I can only think that someone thought this up after noticing her service with Technology and the instructor unit.
Anyway, putting that irritation on display won’t get her anywhere. She nods benevolently at Lieutenant Weiss, who was looking at her for permission.
“Today at 1800 hours6 we’ll begin a long-range maneuver toward the supply depot. Company commanders, after everyone is dismissed, we’re having a meeting to decide the flight plan.”
While watching them trying to get down to business in the meeting, I decide to throw out a few words—instructions, I guess. Soldiers love these kinds of formalized interactions.
Let’s just say that not only do I disapprove of this waste of time, I can’t sincerely appreciate this prioritizing mental intoxication. Of course, as a member of the organization there’s no good reason for me not to participate.
That’s where Tanya endeavors to string together some sort of advice.
“Sorry to interrupt while you’re enjoying your chat, but I have some quick news.”
It was a truth that people at company commander–level should have already picked up on. Though it was only an unspoken doubt at this point, if they knew it, their units would have a different outlook. It wasn’t a particularly confidential matter.
“The Great Army may have pulled out, but it’s strange that the fighting in the north hasn’t settled down yet.”
According to military standards, the Entente Alliance isn’t considered a major world power. The fact that it’s able to qualitatively compete with the Empire, on any level, implies that they’re receiving aid from somewhere.
Needless to say, its ally the Republic has already given it a formidable helping hand, so there is no doubt that the majority of the support is from there as well.
The real crux of the problem is whether those that claim neutrality are intervening. Of course, these bystander countries deny any participation on a national scale, but they are silent whenever the possible existence of voluntary armies comes up. The participation of at least a few countries like the Federation and the Commonwealth is certain.