by Carlo Zen
I definitely heard the click of a tongue and a sigh over the radio—the same radio that cheerful voice had been coming from until a moment ago.
“First Company, prepare for counter-mage combat. Follow me. These idiots don’t have an appointment, so we’re going to beat them back. The rest of you, on the artillery. Finish that quick and join up with us.”
The spirit in her words was like a blizzard. You don’t know that spirits can dwell in words? It’s a pretty well-known topic on the battlefield, but, well, it’s probably better not to know. Maybe it’ll be easier to understand if I say it was like the devil reading prophetic writings at random.
In other words, chaos.
“Pixie 01 to CP. We’ll meet the incoming enemy mages, but no changes to the original plan. You don’t have to watch out for air combat.”
Normally, that would be condescending and overconfident. The ones under that commander must have been unlucky. But when I replay the memories in my mind, I can’t help but shout, You monster!
A hero, a star, an outstanding magic officer. You, ma’am, were a great officer. To all of us imperial soldiers serving on the Rhine lines, you were a god.
“A new commander with a lot of mana and not much else? She must have a death wish.” Unfortunately, whoever uttered that comment is no longer alive.
“Pixies…? I’m pretty sure I heard of them from some Great Army guys. They said she was a god of death.”
The rumors from those guys who thought they knew a bit about Major von Degurechaff were true. Yeah, she’s a god—an immensely powerful one who presides over life and death.
“Things are getting fun now, troops. You’re having fun, right?”
Her words, brimming with a spine-chilling anger, swept over the area as if she was planning to attract all the enemy hostility like moths to a flame.
Major von Degurechaff had bared her fangs. It invited a violent reaction.
The Republic wanted to hunt the devil. In other words, they devoted all humanity’s wisdom to killing the god of death. Gods don’t die, but those of us next to them?
…They were right to call her a god of death.
She killed the enemy, and the enemy killed our men. Then the noble major, with a glance at all the dead in the mud, took her leave.
Fucking hell.
FEBRUARY 24, UNIFIED YEAR 1925, THE SUBURBS OF BERUN, IMPERIAL ARMY MILITARY COURT
Tanya would tell you that an army, at the end of the day, is a state’s instrument of violence. No matter what rhetorical flourishes are employed, its fundamental nature doesn’t change. Those who get indignant and ask, What do you mean, “instrument of violence”? either don’t understand the military or do understand voters, one or the other.
Either way, regardless of the definition, the army must be controlled. Thus, regardless of how trustworthy those making up the organization are, they must be put on a leash.
The emperor’s army, protectors of the Empire, vanguard of the people, shield of the nation… Even the Imperial Army, showered with such praise, is no exception.
Imperial subjects are proud of their soldiers. That’s why deviating from that ideal inspires such reproach.
The imperial military, as one of its standards, desires all officers and men to be model citizens. These expectations apply across the board, even to lowly privates.
A natural consequence of this is that proper conduct is demanded of honorable officers with special emphasis. In a way, during peacetime it’s even more important than your caliber as a soldier. As a result, the military authorities have a maniacal love for rules, meaning they have a court-martial waiting for you if you break one.
As a class in society, military officers are ashamed of being court-martialed. But that’s during peacetime. The peaceful era of prioritizing honor and worshipping causes is over.
Now we’re at war. The matters dealt with in military courts, too, become issues of whether you unflinchingly carried out your duty or not.
So according to military logic, it’s difficult to overlook that this was an officer just doing their duty who got mixed up in an international political deal brought about by improperly maintained legislation.
On the other hand, in a foreign affairs sense…a few of the high-ranking officers and most of the diplomats are pulling their hair out. “Please consider the politics!” they demand. “You intend to make an officer who did her duty a scapegoat?” comes the retort. The combination of these viewpoints makes for a volatile courtroom atmosphere.
There we find the governance of a trial according to law.
“Major von Degurechaff, this court is dismissing your case.” The legal specialist acting as the judge stands and reads the decision, amid a forest of thorns formed from the gazes of uniforms and suits alike.
They’re throwing out my case. Which is to say, this compromise lets them avoid having to reject the claim by saying there’s no reason to make one; they’re getting around making a judicial call by saying that the case doesn’t technically meet the criteria to be considered.
The acting judge can do nothing but read the paper in his hands with an expression like a Françoisman who has been served the best Albion cuisine in the world three nights in a row. They need to save face on both sides, but if the positions are in marked contradiction, sublation is the answer. In other words, shelving the case is the only choice.
“The attack on and sinking of the neutral country’s vessel was an unfortunate accident.”
But by adding that extra bit at the end, he is able to express his regret about the affair. It’s clear to all seated in the courtroom that the presiding legal officer inserted the line to absorb some of the shock.
To Tanya, this is the reconciliation she was expecting. She knows that someone who is faithful to the logic of the organization is in no danger of being disciplined unless they do something to harm the whole.
And the group from the Foreign Office had been prepared for that decision as well. They went in with the gloomy thought that the army would probably not give them the decision they wanted, but they understood. Not that understanding does anything to soften the looks they’re sending Tanya’s way from their seats in the gallery, fists clenched.
Meanwhile, as Tanya, I feel that receiving these murderous stares as if she’s killed their parents was rather unfair. Of course, I understand what the Foreign Office guys think. They very badly want a scapegoat to appease public opinion in the Commonwealth.
For better or worse because the Foreign Office types value the entire state, they apparently don’t consider an individual’s interests with the same framework as the national concerns.
Well, that’s annoying. Tanya wants to sigh, but seeing as they are already seething internally, she figures keeping her mouth shut is the smarter plan and remains silent.
“It is a grave truth that international relations have been harmed by this accident, but in light of both precedent and laws and regulations, although it is our moral obligation to debate Major von Degurechaff’s negligence, we find that in terms of legal authority, the matter lies outside our jurisdiction.”
The statement he reads is, in a way, declaring an ambiguous position. While speaking of moral obligation and whatnot, they indicate, in a roundabout way, that they intend to evade responsibility via the bureaucratic reply that the matter doesn’t fall under their legal authority. That said, Tanya’s not the only one who can understand that to not judge her means the same thing as to not blame her.
“In addition, having taken into account the lawful nature of the mandate Major von Degurechaff was given, we acknowledge that at the time she had very little room for discretion and that she acted in faithful accordance with her orders. In any event, however, we dismiss the case.”
But it seems like the General Staff or someone at the top put pressure on them. Even to Tanya, that last bit on the conclusion was a strangely favorable addition.
She grins. Without realizing it, her glossy lips have twisted i
nto a faint smile. With this, she is as good as innocent.
But in the courtroom, the only one looking so cheerful is the girl at the center of it all. Among a majority of people who are willfully suppressing their expressions, the smiling defendant can’t help but draw attention—all the more so because the happy face belongs to Major von Degurechaff, who is rumored to have rather emotionless features.
“For the aforementioned reasons, we lift Major von Degurechaff’s detention order.”
All those involved think it best not to mention that she wasn’t ever under one.
That said, confronted with her smile, many of the attendees fret and wonder if this was really the right thing to do. But the decision has already been made. And the superior mage the front lines want so badly will be released from custody…exactly as the General Staff expected.
The Rhine lines call for urgency. Having a usable mage detained due to a political issue would be intolerable.
They can prioritize the allotment of shells and other supplies to the Great Army but not mages?
If they could fight the war like that, then no one would have to worry. Give us more mages! Even just one more! When wailing entreaties like that are coming in from the front lines, the General Staff don’t have the resources—anywhere—to let a decorated Named just loaf around. And how would they? If they had such resources, the war would surely have been decided a long time ago.
We need her on the Rhine. It can’t be helped. For those sorts of reasons alone, the matter was decided from the start. Well, no, if she had actually been negligent, things might have been different.
Those are the only reasons. She’s proud and visibly relieved that her previous judgment has proven correct.
According to the rules of military and international law, I threatened a submarine of unknown nationality that was either violating or deviating from established standards. Though unfortunate, the accident was caused by warning shots fired according to procedures that were not created with submarines in mind.
If there had been even one mistake in execution, the diplomats probably could have gotten the heavy punishment they wanted so much. But when there wasn’t a single error? That’s right—if there are no grounds for a sacrifice, what do you think will happen?
If they were going to force through disciplinary action on me under these circumstances, this would turn into a scandal involving everyone from the Ministry of the Interior and the people from the army and navy who drafted the rules to members of the Foreign Office. My most significant military achievement has been to complicate things.
I’m a promising mage and a recipient of the Silver Wings Assault Badge. In other words, they can’t afford to cut me off. And Tanya’s analysis is correct.
The army’s Railroad Department, the Service Corps, Operations in the General Staff, and even the Technology Division had been putting pressure, albeit informally, on the legal officers. The person in charge of practical matters in each department had gone directly and hinted that they were deeply concerned that an outstanding officer’s reputation might be ruined. It was probably so much pressure it gave the legal officers stomachaches.
I’m so important that multiple departments came together to protect me. Not that anyone made direct threats, but the expectations multiple military organizations have for me put an awful lot of pressure on the legal officers not to disappoint them.
So the legal specialists’ hard-won achievement was showing that they were ready to court-martial me and deliberate. I can say that’s a job well done.
But that’s only an internal matter. Someone within the organization may have resisted, but to an outsider, the end result wouldn’t look any different.
Of course, in terms of international law, the matter between the Empire and the Commonwealth is officially settled. It was an unfortunate accident. The deal is that the Empire expresses their regret, the Commonwealth makes an announcement to the effect that they hope this will be prevented going forward, and there ensues some finger-pointing where each lays most of the blame on the other.
But that’s between diplomats. I highly doubt the people will accept that just because the government does. The Commonwealth’s public is furious that one of their warships was sunk and people died as a result; they have no reason to bury the hatchet so easily.
…On top of that, and I’ll say it without mincing words, Commonwealth authorities are happily inciting such opinions.
The atrocious Imperial Army.
For someone who knows their geopolitics, their actions are actually natural. It’s obvious what would happen if the Empire defeated all its opposition on the continent. Having to face one giant country would have to be a nightmare. So if the people aren’t on board with fighting the war, there’s nothing strange about the authorities starting to stir them up.
Into that situation comes an event, an unfortunate accident, perfect for propaganda. No matter how dirty it is, they’ll shout their anti-Empire views endlessly. And reading the complicated legal details of the discussion in the paper is too much trouble.
Officially, of course, both countries declare it an accident and speak of it as an unfortunate misunderstanding.
The official line from both sides is that the Commonwealth submarine’s communications and navigation equipment were malfunctioning from the start and had broken down, so the sub lost its way in imperial waters, was unable to pick up the radio contact from the imperial mage unit on guard in the area, and began a training dive as part of its scheduled exercise. Then, as a result of warning shots fired according to the law of war, a high level of water pressure was applied to the hull of the submarine. About to be crushed, it performed an emergency blow.
Then both sides, implying that the other is to blame, deliver the ambiguous conclusion that as a result of lifesaving operations performed by the imperial mages, many injured crew members were treated at an imperial hospital, but for those with serious injuries, the rescue was in vain, and they perished. It is also confirmed that the emergency mechanisms didn’t function in time and the submarine sank due to flooding. Additionally, both countries agree that the loss of life is regrettable and that there will need to be discussions about how to prevent similar accidents going forward.
So according to that story, it was more of a shipwreck than a sinking by attack. What that means politically is that both sides admit to mistakes, but they agree to look together for a way to prevent future accidents.
But if the Commonwealth wanted to, it could paint a very simple picture.
Empire Sinks Commonwealth Vessel
That would prime their public more than enough. It’d be like pouring gasoline on an already smoking fire. That’s precisely why the Empire’s Foreign Office is so anxious to avoid any further deterioration of the situation.
No, to be more precise, everyone knows. Everyone knows that at this stage, the world is asking whether the other powers will allow the Empire to be the sole winner and invite the birth of a hegemonic state or intervene to stop that from happening in the interest of balancing the powers.
So this is an excuse. Nothing more, nothing less. In reality, everyone has braced themselves. If you have commonsense powers of judgment, it’s plain to see.
The policy makers in both the Empire and the Commonwealth are aware that the clash between the two countries is only a matter of time.
As such, the handling of Major von Degurechaff, one little magic officer, is not top priority.
Basically, it’s politics. But it’s also true that as a result of all this, her presence is a bit complicated. So being sent to the Rhine is understandable. In one respect, this is where Major Generals von Zettour and von Rudersdorf were pushing to put her anyhow, so it can be done now without any awkwardness.
The General Staff is sending me and expecting results. The diplomats expect me not to cause any more issues. If possible, they’d like me to die out there. Then the legal specialists can escape this pain in the neck.
Any
how, now that everyone and his brother wanted to send her and her troops west, the Devil of the Rhine sneered.
And the situation on those lines became even more hellish.
APRIL 5, UNIFIED YEAR 1925, THE RHINE LINES
Life with shells from breakfast through brunch. Waking up to find your friend who was sleeping right next to you dead is a rarity that happens all the time in service on the forward-most line. If you relax in the trenches, you get burned. That’s why you have to smile, keep your mind sound, and watch out for your health. They say you can’t fight a war with a smile, but wars without smiles are dangerous.
If the troops lose the ability to smile, that’s a bad sign. Times like those, you need to make sure they aren’t drinking too much. If you don’t want to get sniped at, you have to give up cigarettes.
As that thought occurs to her, Tanya realizes with a start that she’d like to give herself a pat on the back for not wanting to drink even though they’ve confiscated so much alcohol. The only ones in the battalion who are getting enough drink and tobacco despite no rations are me and Lieutenant Serebryakov. Someone must care about us; we even get playing cards and candy.
Cocking her head, wondering whether girls are unexpectedly more suited to this type of warfare, Tanya is once again forcibly reminded how harsh life is in the trenches. Even the soldiers most loyal to their nations might turn traitorous if cards, one of their sole leisure activities, were taken away. There are tens of thousands stationed on the front lines in this delicate mental state.
Even on the most peaceful day in those trenches, the weather is rainy with a chance of shells. Apart from when we deal with snipers and harassing fire, we can just lie around in the damp and the mud, but we’re probably only able to get away with that because mages are so scarce.
Mages have leeway to take a quick break in the rear and get cleaned up. We’re worked that much harder when we get back, though, of course.
On sunny days, vision is good, and we fight huge, fierce battles where blood demands blood. In this world, the number of shells flying around has reached the point where a single division consumes one thousand tons in a day. How could they say, Artillery plows and the infantry advances? Sure, it’s half-true, but we can’t advance.