The Saga of Tanya the Evil, Vol. 4: Dabit Deus His Quoque Finem

by Carlo Zen

  If we’re not being intercepted, I can live out my dream of mopping up Moskva.

  “Second Company, take out that eyesore of a bronze in the square and the mummies, if you can.”

  Toppling that bronze statue of Josef is another capitalist’s dream.

  I don’t think that so many statues of this importance were knocked down in my own world…but there’s no rule that says I can’t do it here. On the contrary, it’s a great opportunity. We’ll seize this chance to be the first to perform the historic deed of destroying Communist monuments. Tanya chuckles to herself.

  If possible, I want to get those mummies in the mausoleum that people worship as idols, too. That said, “if possible” is fine.

  “Third Company, subdue and destroy the tallest building in Moskva, the one with a view of Sildberia. Eradicate the secret police.”

  And we’ll bully the secret police. This is so fun I can hardly take it.

  They say you can see Sildberia from the basement of this former insurance company office. Surely, burning all their classified documents is the nastiest thing we can do to them. Whoever said you can get ahead doing things other people don’t like was right.

  “Fourth Company, attack the Kremlin. Don’t hold back. Cause as much damage as you can.”

  Apparently, the American Army had a rule against bombing the Imperial Palace, but we’re not under any such restrictions. So what if the German Army didn’t allow bombing of the British royal family? That has nothing to do with me.

  We’re the Imperial Army. Let’s serve the human world by killing off the bears in the Kremlin.

  “Battalion Commander to all units, this is a dream scenario for all capitalists. Future capitalists will be jealous of us at this moment.”

  This is definitely the sort of thing that would both impress hard-core anti-Communists and make them wish they were here.

  “All right, troops. Move out!”

  “““Yes, ma’am!”””

  When the units spread out and form up, we finally, finally start taking anti–air fire.

  “Oh, so they do have air defense positions.”

  The high-angle cannons shooting up from the ground certainly are a threat. Even an elite member of the 203rd Aerial Mage Battalion would get more than burned by a direct hit.

  “Keep a sharp eye on the ground,” urge the voices crisscrossing among units, but soon enough, the channels are full of nearly disappointed impressions.

  “…It’s a pretty sporadic interception, and their aim is awful. Seems like they’re shooting willy-nilly. Shall we just hit their defensive positions?” Serebryakov approaches with a question.

  It’s not as though Tanya isn’t tempted, but she shakes her head after a moment’s hesitation. “Even if the Commies’ anti–air fire is pathetic, it’s still anti–air fire. I can’t think of any reason to incur extra casualties.”

  “Then please excuse the suggestion.”

  “We can’t have too much fun and forget what time we need to go home… Oh, Lieutenant, you have personal reasons to hold a grudge against the Commies, don’t you?”

  “Yes, Major, but that was back when I was a child.”

  Realizing that fact, Tanya takes care to make herself clear.

  “You don’t have to hide how much you hate them, Lieutenant.”

  “Uh, ma’am?”

  A peculiar blank look appears on Serebryakov’s face, and Tanya smiles as if to say she understands everything.

  Serebryakov used to live in the Federation. Since she’s a decent human being, she surely must have suffered at the hands of the Commies. It’s easy to imagine that she must be burning up with the desire to shoot them all dead.

  “I won’t tell you to not let the hate rule you. As long as you’re faithful to your duty, I support your feelings. Of course, it’s best if you control yourself, but…as long as you follow the ROE, I’ve got your back.”

  Her adjutant tries to say something, but Tanya tells her not to worry. Covering for my subordinates’ mistakes isn’t my hobby or anything, but if one of them is criticized even though they’re right, I won’t hesitate to support them.

  “I know a bit of your history. I’ll be counting on your knowledge of the terrain. Do a good job out there. I expect we’ll be able to accomplish your long-cherished dream.”

  Tanya pats Serebryakov on the shoulder and then mutters, “Time for war,” as she takes the lead and gives the order for strike formation.

  “All units, wreak havoc as your company commander sees fit. I’ll announce our withdrawal via either a signal flare or transmission over a wide area.”

  “What’s our tactical objective?”

  “Do a moderate amount of damage and make fun of them to an extent. No more, no less. I want you to really show off. I have high expectations of your creative destruction.”

  We’ve arrived over the skies of Moskva, but what we’re about to do is essentially the same thing as Doolittle’s Tokyo Raid.9 It’s like we’re emulating the American Empire’s propaganda.

  The Federation is a country with a coat of ostentation. Against the Federation, where the nation is fictional and the only thing supporting a sense of nationality is propaganda, disturbing the notion that the party is all-powerful is most effective. We’re essentially slinging mud balls at its reputation.

  More than anything, for how strategically effective it is, you really get maximum impact for minimal effort. We can expect this sort of harassment to upset them.

  After all, it’s these guys. Rather than send reinforcements to the main lines, they’ll probably waste precious time on preventing a reoccurrence and laying blame. It would be great if they did a postmortem with tons of self-criticism.

  And that’s another reason… Tanya reminds her battalion of their operational objectives. “Our objective in this operation is to kick the shit out of the Federation’s pride. Think of it as kicking in a rotten door.”

  They let the Imperial Army penetrate the airspace over the capital?

  Surely, all the people in charge of preventing that have lost face in a spectacular way. They’re definitely trying to cover it up, but…if we rampage through the skies and destroy the buildings and monuments they’re so proud of, it’ll be hard to gloss over.

  If their ability to wage war is hindered by their futile cover-up efforts, that could be a decent secondary effect.

  “Let’s make them wish they’d never been born!”

  “““Yes, ma’am!”””

  “Okay, let’s get this done right. Begin attacking!”

  The combat box neatly splits into four, and Tanya has her company take their time advancing on the center of Moskva. The imperial mages fly back and forth across the sky in triumphant formation.

  She even records a video with her computation orb for PR. Keeping both the city and her subordinates in the frame so it’s clear that it’s Moskva, she leans slowly into a turn.

  Then she has an idea.

  “First Company, why don’t we sing the national anthem?”

  “Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha. Wonderful. That’s a great idea, Major. And let’s amplify it!”

  Her men react positively.

  Very good. I’m not really into singing while operating in a group, but if it’s to make fun of Commies while flying over their heads, I’m all for it.

  We use a sound-amplifying formula for the benefit of the people of Moskva, who probably have no idea what is going on.

  It feels just like conducting an orchestra. This is kinda fun. She belts out the imperial anthem as her heightened emotions dictate, letting it ring throughout the skies of Moskva.

  It’s immensely pleasant, but what deepens her happiness even further is the good news that keeps coming in.

  “Fairy 06 to 01. Got a great view of Sildberia!”

  “01 to 06. Is it burning nicely?”

  “06 to 01. Ah, it reminds me of wanting to burn my test scores as a child. The documents are exhibiting superior combustion.”

&n
bsp; A cheerful report from a subordinate in the area that—from the sky she can see—is enveloped in roaring flames.

  The Commies must be panicking. Just the thought is invigorating. This is definitely worth a medal. When we get back, I’ll have to apply for everyone’s decorations.

  “Ha-ha-ha. Terrific!”

  “By the way, that’s some delightful war music you have going on over there. We would love to join you…”

  “Splendid. Let us sound the trumpets of civilization! Sing so they can hear you all the way in Sildberia!”

  Let the trumpets be a warning to the Communists that their ruin is at hand. This can be our Jericho-Trompete. Singing with all their might, Tanya and her company approach their designated target, the People’s Palace.

  “01 to all units. Ready your formulas! Target: that lump of shit!”

  ““Target: that lump of shit!””

  At the appropriate distance and altitude, Tanya merrily manifests her formula and lets it fly. There is no way she would miss a stationary target, and the explosion formula smashes directly into the reinforced concrete building.

  “Ha-ha-ha-ha! What fun!”

  Whether due to shoddy architecture or faulty materials, I’m not sure which, the high-rise People’s Palace is already listing. She was sure it would take a few volleys, but when she sees the building start to collapse already… Yeah, it has to be the result of rushed construction.

  “These concrete buildings the Communists love so much are more fragile than I thought!” Tanya jeers, but a report from the Fourth Company throws a bucket of cold water over her smirk.

  “Depends on the place, I think. Fairy 09 to Fairy 01. Sorry, but we’re having trouble with the Kremlin’s defenses. The outer wall is bizarrely sturdy.”

  “You tried a deliberate attack?”

  “Yes, but this thing is nuts. Even steel anti-base penetrating rounds bounce right off.”

  “Sheesh, so the distribution of concrete was totally unbalanced, then. Guess the Kremlin is higher priority than the people.”

  If the reinforced concrete is so thick it repels the attacks of Grantz’s Fourth Company, it’ll be really hard to get through without a cannon.

  Multiple shaped charges would be something to consider, but we barely have any explosives. We’re equipped for a long-range reconnaissance mission. And in terms of formula bullets, we don’t even have that many steel rounds for penetrating fortification walls.

  If it’s so troublesome to break through, does that make it even more important to attack? If I knew for sure that jerk Stalin was in there, we could run Grantz and all of the Fourth Company into the ground, and it’d still be worth it…but this is that jerk Stalin we’re talking about. If things are rough, he’ll have ducked out for sure.

  In which case, it might be better to have the Fourth Company change objectives and head somewhere else. To make the most of our limited time, having them destroy a soft target might be more effective.

  “09, have the Fourth Company change objectives on the double.”

  “Yes, ma’am, on the double.”

  Sheesh, that really rained on my parade, Tanya is thinking, but in the very next instant, the greatest news comes in.

  “04 to 01. We crushed Mr. Josef. I say again, we crushed Mr. Josef.”

  “Must feel good?”

  “Couldn’t be more refreshed.”

  Tanya does a quick calculation, going back over the situation to make sure they’re harassing the enemy as much as possible.

  They’ve attacked the Kremlin enough to be a bother, and the People’s Palace and the headquarters of the secret police are in flames. The Second Company, who was sent to blow up that statue to the cult of personality, has accomplished its mission with ease.

  It’s certainly a good thing to feel so refreshed. I’m jealous. Kicking over the statue of Josef must have felt great. Well, I thought for all the pride they had in this thing, it would be heavily guarded, but if it’s not, then maybe it’s worth going on a little adventure. Like maybe we could put up an imperial flag in the middle of the square, just like on Iwo Jima.

  Not sure how I feel about imitating the Marines, but…

  No, no, what’s good is good… Formal beauty is beauty. It’s wonderful that we can take the Commies down without even waiting for the philosophers to debate.

  We’ll fly the fluttering imperial flag right inside every Commie’s hearts. The political impact will be huge. And it’s not even that big of a risk, since we’ve already taken the square.

  Above all, the imperial flag will wave in the Federation capital. The Communists’ arrogant faces will probably go white as sheets. I’m sure they’ll turn Moskva into a fortress to avoid it from ever happening again—even if they have to yank a ton of matériel and personnel off the front lines to do it.

  Thus, in terms of our assistance to the main lines, there is no better distraction we could create. I’m confident General von Zettour will be delighted.

  “Very good. Now let’s plant a flag in the square and get out of here.”

  “A flag? That’s a good idea, but…I don’t have one on me.”

  Tanya nearly becomes discouraged at her subordinate’s unfortunate reply. But she doesn’t have to worry. She’s not such a sloppy planner that she doesn’t have a backup idea.

  “No need to worry. I know where we can get one.”

  For those well versed in the habits of Commies, improvisation is no problem. Knowledge is power. Whether you know something or not changes the choices available to you.

  In this case, if you know that Commies love propaganda, that they love movies, and that they also love censorship, the issue becomes quite simple. It’s a matter of course that Commie movies are censored to be politically correct. In other words, for a while now, they’ve surely been making anti-Empire propaganda.

  …You can’t make a film about the evil Empire without its evil flag.

  Naturally, they must have a pile of them somewhere for burning or whatnot. Surely, they’ll have a bunch of the Commie red flags for what they consider their army of justice. It’s great that we’ll have flags for burning, too, in other words.

  Even better if we can capture it on film.

  “Where?”

  “From the film studios the Commies are so proud of. I’m sure they have imperial flags to use in their anti-Empire propaganda.”

  “Oh, you’re right, Major!”

  And the fact that Serebryakov has an idea where the studio might be makes Tanya smile. I thought you would.

  Figuring they shouldn’t talk on the wireless, Tanya waves her over and asks her point-blank.

  “Lieutenant, you know where it is, right?”

  “If it’s still where it used to be! I’m not sure if I remember exactly, but if it’s the same as on the map they passed out before, then I know the spot!”

  “Splendid. Then your orders are to requisition equipment on-site. Don’t forget military notes and a proof-of-payment slip.”

  “…Understood. Of course, we’ll do a proper requisition and not loot the place!”

  She must have grasped Tanya’s tasteless joke. With a model salute and her mission accepted, Serebryakov takes several soldiers and descends into the streets of Moskva.

  We’ll make the propaganda film instead of the Commies.

  With Commie cameras.

  Well, we’ll burn Federation flags not the Empire’s. The Commie red flag is sure to glow brilliantly in the flames. Just imagining that scene is a thrill and a half.

  Yep, this is what I’d call invigorating. And we’ll plant our flag in Commie Square. Ah, I really regret not bringing a journalist along. Yes, it’s sudden, but that doesn’t mean we can grab just anyone who happens to be around.

  The next best plan is to procure equipment at our own expense.

  “…Right, that makes sense.”

  “I’m going to go pick up the flags and equipment. You guys stay here and bust up the mausoleum or something.”
r />   “Understood! We’ll be waiting!”

  Now, then. Time to head to the film studio and treat ourselves to some cultural exchange.

  Do Commies have culture, you ask?

  That’s a great question, but don’t worry. Even landlocked countries have navies, so theoretically, it wouldn’t be strange for Commies to have culture.

  MARCH 16, UNIFIED YEAR 1926, ON THE STREET IN MOSKVA, THE FEDERATION

  The praying voice rang out like a bell. It was like a believer who had been oppressed for so, so long in this land was now singing. A prayer in the official language of the Federation so the people would understand.

  A voice that purifies the impure, praises the king of heaven, and celebrates the salvation of our souls.

  Followed by the attack on Moskva.

  It was such a calamity that even nonbelievers were forced to wonder if purgatory had appeared in their world.

  It was simply too much to take in. A military and secret police counterattack against an army, especially a battalion of mages, would just end in a beatdown. It had taken only an instant to thoroughly pulverize the honor of the great country so proud of its power.

  Thus, the Imperial Army boots energetically striking the square in front of the building where Loria had been working until just a bit ago.

  The mausoleum where the leaders of the revolution were laid to rest had been detonated; the Kremlin, where the general secretary was holed up, had nearly fallen.

  The Federation’s best had attempted to drive the enemy back, but their counterattack ended in crushing defeat. And their air defense positions proved that shooting blind was going to do about as much good as a papier-mâché tiger.

  As far as Loria could tell, there were less than fifty enemies. So for a mage unit, that meant…about a battalion?

  A mage battalion wasn’t that many people.

  And yet…

  That little group was wreaking havoc unchecked. It was enough to utterly stun anyone high up in the party organization.

  And this was the Federation. Any country would have accountability issues, but…in the Federation it would end in a literal purge.

  “Agh! What the hell…?”

  Any normal person would see that the fact that Loria was looking at the sky, transfixed, spoke volumes to how serious the situation was.