by Carlo Zen
There’s my friend.
And there’s me.
So like Horatius, I’ve got to protect what I’ve got to protect. In the name of the homeland, one man makes loyalty his duty. What was there to be afraid of?
“At least tell me this…how many of your subordinates…?”
“Thirteen.”
A company’s worth of people had been lost.
Without Sue’s rampage—no, there was no point in thinking about that.
I killed them—the unit was under my command. I should apologize to their families. I should be punished. It should be my shame to bear.
“…Dear God and fatherland, may you know their glory,” Drake prayed quietly, faintly.
“Colonel, they did die fighting the enemy.”
“By which you mean…?”
“…It’s good that you’re not used to your troops dying. And they were able to die in battle against the enemy. That’s a relatively blessed way to go.”
There was a story Drake had been taught as a boy. A heroic tale of a brave and just knight. He would have to add to it the contributions of his subordinates who made the ultimate sacrifice so far from home.
What we’re doing has meaning.
He wanted to believe that.
At least they had fallen fighting the enemy of the homeland they believed in. There were few times he felt as proud to be a citizen of the Commonwealth as he did now. Oh, beloved Commonwealth, may you delight in our peerless adoration.
Well, that’s enough sentimental musing for now.
For now, just for now, he had to force this unromantic reality to make sense.
“Well, it seems I’ve been comforted by your words, so let’s get down to war, eh? How serious do you think their pursuit will be? That mage battalion is charging after us, but do you think it’ll end there?”
He had to admit that the charging Imperial Army was handling things quite nimbly. The imperial mage unit and the Devil of the Rhine had a lot of fight in them despite giving chase right after flying out of the heavy encirclement and harsh conditions they endured at Soldim 528.
They could have gotten a little tired, but instead they were coming at the multinational unit as if their adrenaline was blasting on full power; it creeped Drake out in the same incomprehensible way Sue did. Why not get worn out like a human being?
“The answer is obvious, Colonel Drake. There are few things as amusing as seeing your enemy’s knapsacks.”
“What?”
“Is this a generational gap or something? Shooting at the packs on the enemies’ backs is good old fun. You could say that it’s an officer’s dream to see the enemies’ knapsacks.”
“I was a little boy with status, so I’ve always preferred chasing foxes.” He held his rifle up as he mimed hunting.
The customs of his hometown. How nostalgic—the scent of peaceful civilization. In warlike style, the tradition of hunting was extolled for making sure men had a gun at the ready in case anything should happen to the home country.
Harkening back to those memories from a battlefield was especially nostalgic. What a clear and simple thing it was to innocently take up your hunting rifle and chase your quarry.
“So it’s a cultural difference, hmm? Anyhow, now then, we’re about to greet the war-loving imperials. We’ve got to prepare a splendid welcome party.”
“Can we expect anything out of the fighter planes? That political officer guaranteed support, but it’s only her guarantee after all. I’d like to hear your opinion, Colonel Mikel.”
“…Colonel, your dislike of the political officer has gone a bit far. I’ve told you repeatedly that she’s one of the better ones.”
“And no matter how many times I hear you say better, I don’t understand what you mean by it.”
He wasn’t unaware that his hatred of politics was growing, but given that he was being forced to fight as a rear guard for the sake of politics alone, he would have appreciated some tolerance of his griping.
“The worst is far beyond what you can imagine. She’s more—how should I say? She’s like a good little lamb pretending to be a wolf.”
“She may be good, but she’s a wolf in sheep’s clothing. It’s no wonder good sheep can’t get along with her. That said, I’ll leave off here. It’s time to party.”
He had just lit a fire under his subordinates’ behinds with gruff orders to get into formation so they would be ready to confront the incoming enemy when he received a rare bit of good news.
“Colonel! Lieutenant Sue reports enemies in our path of retreat!”
Good news from his man carrying the communications kit.
While it may have been unfortunate that enemies were sighted, Drake and his troops were being pursued—of course enemies were coming after them. It was as natural as rain falling from rain clouds.
The important point was that Sue, the entirely too willful lieutenant, had carried out her orders properly and reported in.
“The imperials could have taken their time, but oh well. Engage immediately—no, wait. Order her to break through and secure our path.”
“Yes, sir! I’ll order her to secure the path of retreat.”
Even Sue would obey him if the order entailed rescuing her fellow soldiers. Perhaps you could say she had purehearted concern for her allies? But she was still a newly minted first lieutenant.
She wasn’t a bad person at her core; on the contrary, the trouble was that she acted only out of good intentions. But for once, that would work to their advantage.
“And tell her that there are lives depending on her support of the Federation Army! Under no circumstances is she permitted to go charging off into some random imperial troops. Don’t loosen the reins!”
“Understood!”
After giving his old wingmate instructions over the radio for how to handle Sue, Drake emitted a small sigh.
He was glad the wild girl could be somewhat controlled.
After being showered in concentrated imperial mage fire and nearly getting shot down, she seemed to be learning to hold back a little from her reckless charges.
He was glad that the imperial troops had given her an education. Though he was furious that the tuition cost an awful lot of his subordinates.
But perhaps the issue lay more with Sue’s command ability.
“Okay, troops!” Drake shouted in borderline desperation. “We’re getting back alive. And when we arrive, I’m breaking out my entire stash of drinks. The catch is that the dead don’t get any. If you don’t want to be robbed, fight with all your might!”
THE SAME TIME, THE IMPERIAL ARMY’S 203RD AERIAL MAGE BATTALION
“Enemies spotted—two battalions’ worth of mages.”
“Yeah, I see them.”
It’s too bad that the number of mages her adjutant counted is correct.
“…Once again, the response is awfully fast for a Federation-Commonwealth composite unit. I guess I just can’t describe them with ‘for a’ anymore.”
It would be great if the two-headed organization would get confused about who’s in charge, but somehow they either unified the chain of command or the commander of the Commonwealth troops is a Commie—however they did it, a Communist army and a capitalist army were marching in step.
“What an unpleasant thing to see. Really horrifying.”
“Then leave it to us. You can watch as we attack and scatter them.”
First Lieutenant Grantz’s eagerness as he reacts honestly to her complaint sure is something to behold. He looks delighted to be liberated from his position as Lieutenant General von Zettour’s bodyguard.
Well, I understand that between accompanying a VIP and doing your own work at your own pace, the latter is easier, but…that said, determination needs to be used judiciously. Grantz is getting a bit carried away at the moment.
“We can’t assume that the enemy is poorly disciplined. So no, rejected.”
Any normal day, her subordinates would stand down after a decl
aration like that. But—if he isn’t looking back at her with eyes that say, We really can’t?—today she’s astonished.
She wants to scream at him to ask if he’s a child.
“Lieutenant Grantz, a no is a no. Are you really going to make me repeat myself?”
“N-no, ma’am. Understood!”
When Tanya hardens her eyes and demands he understand where she’s coming from, he’s quick to consent. While on the one hand, she wants her people to be bold, it’s also important for them to listen to reason.
Though if the enemy camp were to fall into disarray, she wouldn’t object to guaranteed gains.
“What a pain these enemies are who won’t fall to pieces.”
Before them, enemy mages adjust their formation as if they’re about to engage. They’ve been called two battalions, but they’re too tightly coordinated to really resemble survivors fleeing a lost battle.
Strange. This was supposed to be a pursuit battle, so what’s going on?
Pursuit means shooting at the enemies’ backsides. If the enemy has this much fight in them, it’s more like an encounter battle. Talk about bad luck.
Here! This is where an indirect approach can be handy.
“Split into two groups and target their path of retreat. If their way back is threatened, they should…”
“They’re coming this way!”
In response to her adjutant’s yell, Tanya shouts in frustration. “This ploy again?! What do they take us for?!”
This was supposed to be a pursuit battle, but they’re turning around? That takes guts, but it’s also an awful lot of screwing around. We’ve already been on the receiving end of a coordinated feint attack like that once before. It’s terribly upsetting that they think we’d fall for the same trick twice.
“Watch out for enemy planes and…ngh! Aircraft spotted at three o’clock! Identify it!”
“Seems to be the enemy, ma’am. More than one headed this way!”
“Good work, Weiss!”
It’s as if all has been revealed. Aerial tactics that combine mages and air forces are interesting, but once you know the trick, it’s mere prestidigitation.
We have the ability to learn. We’ll show them that rehashing and trying to reproduce the same success over again are clichés we understand!
“Maintain distance between formations and shower each one in bullets!”
Preventing erratic evasive maneuvers and the scattering of formations, Tanya orders defensive barrages in the form of interdiction fire. The battalion’s rapid response is nearly perfect as it works to turn the enemy planes into expensive scrap metal.
But their fight ends anticlimactically.
“Huh? Where are they going…? Crap!”
Having interpreted the enemy flight path as a charge, the battalion was ready to counterattack, but right in front of us, the enemy leisurely turns away.
It’s not even a hit-and-run, more like “no hit.”
Having been faked out, the battalion fires a splendid barrage at the air. And to make matters worse, enemy mages basically begin bullying us with long-range sniping fire in the spaces between the formations we’d split up to counterattack.
Good sense really does hold back a good modern citizen like myself. Limeys and Commies, is it something about that mee sound that imparts the powers of an evil deity? Should I be proud of myself for not being as adept at becoming the object of hate as these two great evils of the world, the Commonwealth and the Federation?
Or should I lament that they got me?
“The enemy mages are turning around!”
At First Lieutenant Serebryakov’s report, Tanya lets a tongue click slip out.
Vexingly, the enemy’s conduct is clever enough to be put in a textbook. When I look, the supposedly charging enemy mages have already gotten away. They gave up so fast, it’s a letdown.
“So it was just a feint…? They tricked us again. The enemy isn’t performing half-bad, no, sir.”
At this point, the idea of all firing at once, swooping in, and finishing the pursuit battle in one go might as well be a fantasy. Even if the damage is negligible, my will to pursue has been largely drained. Frankly, going after an enemy with that much organized energy left on our own is out of the question.
Enemy mages who flaunt their ability at us and then make a flashy retreat are a dangerous threat, which is why I want to have nothing to do with them.
“We could get additional pay, and it still wouldn’t be enough for this…”
The labor union, where’s the labor union? No, military officers are public servants, so…we probably don’t have collective bargaining rights. I guess we’ll have to hope the labor standards supervisor will do something.
The labor standards supervisor, where, oh where is the labor standards supervisor? Commissioned officers around the world eagerly await your arrival…
“Take out the fighter plane unit! Spatial area suppression with explosion formulas! Let’s at least get rid of those guys!”
“No, Grantz!”
“Huh?”
Suppressing the urge to cradle her head and sigh, Tanya checks her subordinate.
It’s not as if we get paid enough for this, and more than anything, performing anti-aircraft combat as mages will throw our formations into disarray.
The enemy mages may be keeping their distance, but we don’t need those speedy fellows to linger right outside of engagement range. I’m not saying it’s the same as a fleet in being, but having a threatening presence that nearby severely curtails our freedom of movement.
“Ignore them. That Federation mage unit is too close. And in the first place, even using the Type 97, you’ll wear yourself out accelerating to a speed that matches the fighter planes.”
The enemy may be harassing us with long-range fire on their way out, but they are leaving of their own accord. And we engaged enough to call it a proper attempt to pursue them. We can say we met our minimal obligations. Now if we just support the ground troops and mop up the rest of the stragglers, those achievements should make a nice souvenir for Zettour.
All that being said…take the initiative to do things people hate.
We were taught in compulsory education that that’s the way people are. Having learned the same in Japanese schools, in the Empire’s staff officer curriculum, and in my experiences on the battlefield, perhaps I should consider it a universal law.
“Still, there’s no reason we have to let them escape unscathed!”
Apologies to my eager subordinates, but there will be no swooping.
Unlike more dynamic officers like Grantz, Weiss, and Serebryakov, Tanya isn’t a fan of bothersome things.
Labor is a product. Selling yourself short amounts to dumping founded on sincerity. Honestly, it’s criminal.
“Ready formula bullets! We’re casting long-range optical sniping formulas! Hit ’em in the ass as they go! We’ll give them something to remember us by!”
Instead of giving our enemy a helping hand, we’ll give them a helping of lead. The ground is the perfect partner for them. I would be delighted for some of them to take a precipitous turn and share a passionate embrace with it.
But unfortunately, it seems that neither the Federation nor Commonwealth mages feel like deepening their loving relationship with the ground. The Ildoans are legendary for their amicability, so perhaps we should try to persuade them into that tender hold if the chance ever arises. Thankfully, our allotment of peace means we shouldn’t have that opportunity for a while.
Either way, launching formula bullets at speck-like enemies at long range doesn’t achieve very much at all. After a few dozen volleys, the enemy aerial mages exit our range in an orderly fashion and continue their leisurely withdrawal.
It should have been a simple pursuit battle consisting of firing at the enemy as they retreated, but the results are poor.
“This is enough, though.” Tanya indicates to her troops that the fight is over by leaning her rifle back on he
r shoulder. “We can’t catch them. Any farther than this, and the risk is too great. Weiss, Grantz, we’re pulling out!”
“But if we act now—!”
Grantz is such a lover of knapsacks that she’s used to him pointing at the enemies’ backs and pleading impatiently with his eyes for pursuit.
“Lieutenant Grantz, are you really doing this again?!”
“The ground troops fought so hard to catch them! Please!”
“…We can’t.”
She knows that their fellow troops made sacrifices. From a cost-effectiveness perspective, it’s clear that their kill ratio needs to be improved.
But Tanya hates gambling. When investing, she prefers steady trust funds and building wealth over a lifetime to day trading, or even better, investing in her own human capital.
Pursuing the enemy isn’t a bad choice, but…the divide between profit and loss has long been crossed. Continuing any further carries too high a risk. What the idiots who mock turning back as defeatist need is intelligence. According to Tanya’s self-analysis, she shouldn’t be desperately short of that.
“If we leave now, we still have the strength to make it back.”
What’s important is safety.
Safety, peace, and certainty.
Based on her clear policy, Tanya declares, “As long as I’m in command, I won’t ever back down from this. I won’t let my troops be exposed to pointless risk. Do your part to remember that.”
“…Understood.”
It’s a rather quiet reply but clear, so Tanya nods in satisfaction. She’d like responses to be a bit snappier, but she has discovered as an educator that as long as humans have emotions, asking for 70 percent is a surer thing than trying to get 100 percent.
According to my keenly observant eye, Grantz seems to have recognized his inadequacies when confronted with Tanya’s confident declaration. It may well be that after facing her sound argument, he’s feeling ashamed of himself.
That’s not surprising.
Tanya expects that he’ll learn from this mistake and put his knowledge to future use. Mistakes are human, and anyone who can learn from them with a calm, open mind is a decent human resource.