The Saga of Tanya The Evil, Vol. 8: In Omnia Paratus

by Carlo Zen

  “If this was going to happen, maybe I should have had the Kampfgruppen currently being formed sent to the east as well? No, that wouldn’t have been doable even if I’d wanted to.”

  There were several experimental Kampfgruppen operating in the homeland for research purposes…but sending them all over the place had backfired. It had seemed fine at the time because of how easy and convenient it was to deploy them.

  If they had been held in reserve, they could have been pooled together and sent to the east to give Zettour a decent force to work with.

  Instead, he was stuck with hardly anything.

  “At any rate, if this is a sign of how everything else will go, all I can do as a field commander is hold my ground as ordered. Of course, it’d be nice to win.”

  Successfully carry out the objectives of Operation Andromeda on the eastern front—the ideal was clear. And he wanted to do it with as few casualties as possible.

  If they could win, Zettour’s duties in the east would essentially disappear. If the B Front quieted down, he could snark at the B Group staffers.

  “But if we can’t win?”

  The ominous doubt that slipped from Zettour’s lips sent a chill up his spine.

  If Andromeda failed? He might be able to handle the aftermath. It would be awfully tough, but he didn’t consider himself so senile that he couldn’t make do.

  But that wasn’t the real issue.

  At this point, he was confident that the situation was still manageable. They would improve what needed improving, learn from their failures, and plan the next operation accordingly. But what if that one failed? Would they persevere and come up with a third?

  They would most likely be able to scrabble together some kind of operation. Though the shortage of manpower had been worsening for a while now, surely the General Staff wouldn’t be completely unable to draft a new operation.

  The true problem lay elsewhere.

  Would the Empire and its army have enough strength left for a third operation at that point? No…would they even be able to recover from failing the second?

  Thinking objectively, Zettour had to admit the chances of either scenario going well were hopelessly close to zero. If two major operations couldn’t get them over, would the foundations of the Empire still be standing after?

  It was difficult to be optimistic about even their chances of successfully defending, much less attacking. It would require an awful lot of self-deception to look away from reality and pretend like there weren’t serious problems underpinning the entire situation.

  …Vexingly, things appeared to be different for the Federation Army. They endured defeat after defeat, only to stand up again.

  “Oh, I see.” Zettour finally realized what had been bothering him. “We aren’t allowed to make a mistake, but the enemy is… I was just thinking that was rather unfair.”

  MAY 28, UNIFIED YEAR 1927, EASTERN FRONT, EASTERN ARMY FORWARD BASE

  When Tanya answers the General Staff’s orders to report to the eastern army’s forward base, it’s under the assumption that Colonel von Lergen or Lieutenant Colonel Uger—one of the officers she’s acquainted with—has come with a message.

  Anything too dangerous to transmit in writing, or too important, normally gets delivered by an officer.

  Given the market factors of secrecy and convenience, getting called in is surely the going rate for information. And as I’m a lieutenant colonel, the messenger should be no one higher than colonel.

  This conclusion should come naturally to anyone familiar with the inner workings of the Imperial Army. Though she happily came along, eager to rekindle an old friendship with the messenger from Central, Tanya is now frozen in place.

  Even for a place outfitted as a headquarters…the quarters she had been invited to were much too nice. I should’ve realized right then and there.

  “Been a while, Colonel von Degurechaff.”

  Waiting in the room the eastern army batman led her to was…not a mid-ranking officer. Raising a hand with a faint smile is a good-natured older gentleman—a general. There’s no mistaking him. It’s the deputy chief of the Service Corps, Lieutenant General von Zettour, wearing his stars.

  The shock from being caught off guard is immense. This veritable sneak attack nearly causes little Tanya’s heart to leap out of her throat.

  If I had been able to predict the future even slightly more accurately, maybe things would have been different. For instance, if there had been a way to know the next words Zettour would say, maybe it would have been less alarming.

  “I’ve been exiled from the General Staff Office. I’m here to play in the east for a spell…so I have a favor to ask.” He went on without hesitating, his tone casual. “To get straight to the point, I’ve been sent here because I upset Supreme Command… It’s not an easy job, pointing out your boss’s mistakes.”

  Lieutenant General von Zettour, who was supposed to be the brilliant string puller in my career plan, has slipped up.

  To Tanya, who has been proceeding according to her prudent life blueprint, these circumstances are most regrettable. The boss of my faction has failed! This is why I can’t stand politics!

  Possessing the self-restraint to not grumble like that in front of people is something Tanya can be lauded for. But pride and patience alone won’t solve this problem.

  By the time it becomes obvious that Tanya has lost the initiative, it’s too late. Unlike multiplying positive and negative numbers, multiplying astonishment with astonishment never comes out positive no matter how many times you repeat the function.

  Before the stunned Tanya can recover, Zettour begins speaking matter-of-factly without worrying about her status. If there was any hint of him manifesting a Being X–like harmful energy from his entire body, she may have responded differently.

  But for the imperial soldier Lieutenant Colonel Tanya von Degurechaff, bound by the norms of society as a civilized individual, fleeing while a superior is speaking isn’t an option.

  By the time the risks are plain to see, the conversation has progressed to the point where she can no longer retreat.

  The General Staff and Supreme Command have clashed.

  A major offensive, Operation Andromeda, has been green-lighted for political reasons. Stockpiling for said major offensive has already begun, and the rumored reorganization of the eastern army is already under way.

  The forces are split into an A Group that will concentrate on the main area of operation and a B Group that will defend the extensive lines that stretch across the rest of the theater of operations; moreover, most of the armor will be committed to capturing the southern cities…

  Tanya is told all these things nonchalantly before she can get a word in.

  Having heard this much, I don’t even want to imagine how classified this information is.

  The next thing Zettour says guarantees it.

  “And I’m here on orders to inspect and advise B Group; I’ll be aiding in the reorganization of the front lines. In order to properly support Andromeda missions in the south, B Group will have to live with most of their armor getting retasked, but we’ll simply have to do our best with what we’ve got, eh?”

  Tanya just stares. Though she should be reacting in surprise, she only listens on while gaping like a numbskull.

  The eastern front is often referred to as “extensive,” but that’s actually inaccurate. Put more bluntly, it’s too long.

  And thanks to that, everything is stretched thin and becomes disjointed. That applies to defensive positions and troop formations as well. The ideal logically would be to hold Commie welcome parties from strong points of prepared firing positions and solid trenches like what the troops had on the Rhine. Unfortunately, the positions we’re working with are horribly lackluster and worn down.

  You could say that one-man operations are becoming a chronic issue.

  Though the planners know it’s more efficient and desirable to dedicate multiple people to a task, they sim
ply don’t have the numbers. The Empire’s instrument of violence, its military, can carry on as long as the state doesn’t go bankrupt, but it’s undoubtedly feeling the attrition of national strength and human resources.

  Yet, they’re going to take the armor normally saved for emergencies and give it to A Group?

  Who could hear that without getting dizzy? And that’s only if the unlucky victim doesn’t die of shock on the spot.

  “I’m sure you must have arguments, objections, and so on, but if we can seize the Federation Army’s resource area, we can expect a dramatic shift in our war economy.”

  “With all due respect, that’s only if we’re successful.”

  “That’s a very good observation. For the sake of discussion, let’s hear what you have to say. What do you think about Operation Andromeda?”

  “…I think, considering my rank, I shouldn’t…”

  “I’ll be frank: Give me your unreserved opinion.”

  Tanya attempts to avoid the question by saying it’s not appropriate, but Zettour insists with a gentle smile on his face that doesn’t reach his eyes.

  I guess I have no choice. Tanya braces herself. Sharing opinions when requested by a superior is part of what an officer gets paid for.

  “Overburdened communication lines, a supply network that is about to collapse, a huge exposed flank, barely enough troops to secure various strategic points or hold defensive lines, and to top it off, the tyranny of distance—moving ahead with all these things present”—she almost spits out her conclusion—“is reckless.”

  “I won’t understand if you’re vague. Elaborate.”

  “I don’t have any other words to describe it. If I had to rephrase it, I would say that the operation is a gamble that is far too dangerous.”

  Once you say something aloud, you’re obliged to explain it. Tanya offers her view dispassionately, with a professional air that overcomes subjectivity to the greatest extent possible.

  “To be frank, under the current circumstances, B Group is a misnomer. Though it’s called a group, the only group on the eastern front is A. B might as well be a pile of rubble! We don’t even have the minimal necessary troops according to eastern-front standards, much less those found in our textbooks.”

  “Is that how it seems to you?”

  Tanya nods emphatically. “You don’t need to have gone to war college to see that; I’d bet even the newest students at the academy can tell. Regardless of A Group’s success, if B Group cannot hold, the entire army will be forced to undertake a massive retreat. Under these circumstances, insisting on leaving B Group with little more than a skeleton crew, we’ll be risking not only the Andromeda front but the rear as well.”

  It’s clear that these are makeshift adjustments based on creative accounting. The brass can say B Group will hold the line all they want, but there simply aren’t enough troops to make that happen.

  A Group has secured local superiority, just barely, through the army’s efforts to concentrate their forces. They’ll probably be able to at least drill an opening in the enemy lines.

  The enemy’s defenses are thick but certainly not uniformly so; we can consider punching through anytime.

  But the biggest question is whether we can exploit the opening.

  Unless we have units in the wings with the discipline and leadership to hold that breach open, our pains will be in vain.

  “At present, we have no units on standby—not only that but we’re drawing off units from B Group! We need to recognize that we’re putting the cart before the horse.”

  “Surely a staff officer’s duty is to do something about that.”

  “A staff officer’s duty is to raise appropriate objections as necessary in the face of impossible circumstances. At least, that’s what they taught me at war college.”

  During the staff officer retreat, they emphasized how important it is to honestly admit when something is impossible, no matter how badly you wish it were otherwise.

  “A staff officer isn’t supposed to brute force things when they can’t be done. Even if you can tip the scale, we mustn’t forget the underlying laws that govern how the scales work in the first place. We can’t put anything larger than a weight on it.”

  “Colonel, it’s not becoming of a field officer to put too much confidence in their academic education. We don’t get a blank check. I don’t deny that Andromeda is a high-risk operation, but since we’ve been ordered to carry it out, all we can do is our best.”

  “I understand what you’re saying”—Tanya shakes her head in response—“but I just don’t like it.”

  “You’re being awfully negative. It’s not like you. Did something happen?”

  “I realize my objection is vague and difficult to describe, but if I may be allowed to speak anyway, I don’t like any of it. Even the name rubs me the wrong way.”

  “Oh?”

  Tanya catches him smiling wryly out of the corner of her eye. Nothing she’s said so far came with the intent to pique his curiosity, but apparently, she has captured his interest nonetheless.

  “How unusual.”

  “Sir?”

  The gaze directed at Tanya’s blank look is so mischievous. What did she say that could possibly amuse her superior like that?

  “I was sure you were my good luck charm… Although I thought you were a bit more logical of an officer.”

  “Names and natures do often agree.”

  “Hmm?”

  His eyes urge her to continue, so Tanya obliges. Not that I’m a huge fan of structuralism, either, but sometimes there are moments that absolutely call for deconstruction.

  “We put too much faith in language. Which is why we tend to forget that our thoughts and imaginations are shaped and restricted by words.”

  Ultimately, humans are caught in the thrall of words. In Tanya’s understanding, names are words, yet the meanings they possess can at times bring about misunderstandings.

  “A division from the Dacian Army and a division from the Federation Army are both ‘divisions,’ but the threat they pose is quite different… Become too used to fighting against the Federation and you’re liable to overestimate Dacia, but if you get too used to fighting against Dacia, you might underestimate the Federation instead. The same logic applies here.”

  “I see. Now that you mention it, that’s true.”

  What an interesting observation. That’s what Zettour’s expression says as he nods. Well, I’m glad it’s a topic that interests a superior scholar.

  “So what does the name Andromeda suggest?”

  “The Andromeda Galaxy. Doesn’t that mean we’re reaching a bit too far? To me, at least, it’s self-evident. By the time we’re endeavoring to ignore the tyranny of distance, it’s already clear what we should be worrying about first.”

  It’s almost as if our internal fears slipped out in the form of this strange operation name.

  Though I don’t know if it was done consciously or unconsciously.

  Fascinatingly, this seems a lot like how no companies like the phrases growth strategy and long-term plan more than those that are about to go under. Put concisely, these are all signs of an organization that’s failing to hide how it’s already hit the limit.

  “There’s no need to be overly heroic or overly, odorlessly neutral, but I do think it’s important to consider how the name of an operation comes across.”

  Whether you inspire or stump the members of your organization is a matter of life and death.

  “That’s a good point, Colonel. I’ll be sure to suggest that indirectly to the one who named it.”

  “Sir?”

  “Usually I choose the operation names, but this time it wasn’t my choice… I’ll be sure to explain your logic in full to General von Rudersdorf.”

  Yet another unexpected turn. Consistently losing the initiative in this conversation is maddening.

  Before Tanya can blink, Zettour takes out a cigar. Wow, now I have to deal with secondhand smoke? I
sigh inwardly. Today is just a parade of the unexpected. But then after a moment’s silent hesitation, he puts it right back in his cigar case!

  “I thought I’d have a smoke, but I guess I’m not in the mood.”

  “Is something wrong?”

  “Well, I thought I’d offer you one and we could have a frank conversation, but then I remembered the law. If I gave you a cigar, we’d both be disciplined.”

  No doubt. Tanya smiles wryly in spite of herself.

  Minors are prohibited by law from drinking and smoking. And for an aerial mage, doing anything that could weaken your lungs would violate your duty to devote everything to your job. An underage aerial mage ignoring her duty and smoking? I can’t think of a more complete breach of contract.

  Putting that aside, Tanya reels her often-wandering mind back in.

  What’s important here is that the general has something so serious to discuss with her that he would offer a mere lieutenant colonel a cigar.

  It must be something totally outrageous.

  Even just listening to what he’s said so far has been uncomfortable… Any more and honestly, I’d like to turn tail and run. I want to run, but I can’t, and that is the rough thing about being an individual in society or an organization—especially the military.

  “Today is just full of surprises. But I’ve decided that nothing you can say will shock me. I’m at your service, sir.”

  When Tanya braces herself and gives him an opening, Zettour nods slightly. Yet, he still seems to be hesitating, and the silence persists for a time.

  It’s only a few seconds, but it’s a long few seconds.

  When he finally looks up, his expression is pained, and he bows his head to her. “Sorry, Colonel, but please lend me an aerial mage company.”

  “Huh? I beg your pardon… You’re asking me to divide up my troops?”

  “Yes, I’m requesting one of your companies.”

  I thought I would be ready.

  I knew it would be a difficult order.

  But this…

  It’s such a cutthroat demand that I can’t help but be taken aback. Tanya balls up her fists and glares at him.