by Carlo Zen
Relieving their allies in this mess will be hard.
"...It's painful that we can't tell them this is impossible for us."
If the Imperial Army leaves the Council for Self-Government high and dry here, it could trigger a negative chain of events. One wrong move and the council might even become treacherous. If they start to have doubts that the Empire is reliable, those guys could wind up running straight back into the arms of the Federation. The peace in the rear that Lieutenant General von Zettour had miraculously secured would be blown away, and the imperial supply lines would be subject to even greater risk than before.
"But...even if we did tell them we can't do it, with the way things are right now, there's no way we could go straight home."
Considering how pressing the situation is, the path forward is clear.
The current state of the war demands that the Empire make a gesture of not forsaking the Council for Self-Government. The Imperial Army General Staff's typical way of thinking under these sorts of circumstances is completely devoid of emotion.
Succeed or fail, the higher-ups will send in a relief unit.
Succeeding would be great. If we fail, it's the least I can do, but I'll shed some tears for the sacrifices we made in the name of mounting a rescue. That's the sort of creature a General Staff officer is. If she wasn't the lamb in this scenario, Tanya would have had no qualms about sacrificing it.
Withdrawing isn't an option. It's such a twist, she wants to snap, We've swapped positions with the Federation Army!
"Hmm...? Twist?" Absentmindedly voicing her thought, she suddenly has an idea.
Something is different from usual.
What is it?
Our positions have reversed.
"Wait, could it be that...?"
It's only a possibility.
But... What comes to Tanya's mind is the mental state of the Federation troops currently on what is probably recon-in-force. They're having fun invading their enemy. They're probably plenty aware of when to quit.
No, they must be.
Considering their position, the principle behind their action is obvious. If they could run, they certainly would. I have to thank school for teaching me to make a habit of viewing things from the other people's perspective.
"...Climb! Up to eight thousand!"
So Tanya does away with any semblance of concealed movement. She immediately abandons the plan to approach the combat zone in NOE flight and climb afterward.
When her adjutant and the others all look at her questioningly, Tanya barks decisive orders.
"Mana signals at max output! We're going up! Climb!"
Are you sure? her adjutant asks with her eyes.
"Do it!" Tanya screams. "Listen," she continues, "we're going to drive the enemy mad with our overwhelming presence! Open the wireless channel, too! Public broadcast. Full power!"
"Wh-what?!"
"Tell the village that we, the Salamander Kampfgruppe of the Imperial Army, are coming and to wait for us. Do it in both the imperial and Federation language."
"I don't think it'll get through to the village, but..."
"For now, it doesn't matter."
The point is to scream.
When posing for appearances, striking the pose itself has meaning.
Actually conveying the full content of the message can be relegated to secondary or tertiary importance.
"Are you sure?"
"The Council for Self-Government and the Federation Army will pick it up, right?"
Tanya is confident.
There's no doubt the General Staff will call it a good decision.
The 203rd Aerial Mage Battalion will pretend to charge into a swarm of enemies.
Even if we don't make it in time, showing that we were on our way is better than nothing.
"The enemy might prepare to intercept us..."
"That's fine. That'll take some pressure off the village. It's not a bad thing to imply that reinforcements are on the way."
Once we make our presence known, the Federation units might voluntarily come over to us. If that happens, we'll get caught up in a meeting engagement and use that as the excuse for not making it in time to stage a rescue.
There's practically no problem with this.
As long as we can avoid casualties...
"I expect the Federation mages are chickens. Let's teach those cravens a lesson! Battalion, blast your assault signals at max power! Follow me!"
THE SAME DAY, THE MULTINATIONAL UNIT
The waves broadcast over a wide range were at an output great enough to shock Lieutenant Colonel Drake.
An assault signal plus a charging advance that completely gave away their position. Picking up the mana signals, he could tell they were Named mages even if he didn't want to.
He still remembered those distinctive waveforms from the Rhine front.
It was impossible to mistake them.
She---they---were coming.
The Devil of the Rhine and her evil band.
"C-Colonel Drake!"
"I know!"
This is bad. The moment he sensed it, Drake turned straight around to race over toward Lieutenant Colonel Mikel and the main forces.
"Colonel Mikel, that battalion of Named is here!"
"We've picked up the signals! What's the situation?!"
"One company has already looped around to cut off our escape and is currently engaged with our defensive unit stationed there. The strength discrepancy is huge---the most our lone company can manage against them is to buy time with a delaying action."
"...Shit! This is the worst-case scenario!" It made sense that Mikel would curse with a glare at the sky in the direction the imperials were probably coming from.
According to the Federation General Staff's predictions, the Imperial Army would be rather late making its first move. They had practically guaranteed there would be plenty of time to secure the village and set up a defensive position.
But reality was less accommodating.
The Imperial Army's response was far too fast.
"Have we taken the village?"
"...It's not going too well. We haven't managed to punch through yet."
"It's just a village! Of all the---!" Drake was screaming without realizing. The infantry and mage units together can't even capture one village?!
"It's been turned into a stronghold with a secure perimeter!"
"That can't be. We're not attacking some military base!"
It was hard to believe such news that came without warning.
As far as Drake knew, village was a term for a residential area, not a strongpoint fortified for combat. He didn't understand why it would be so heavily defended.
"You can't get through even with mage firepower?"
"We already tried twice. Even penetration formulas designed to destroy armor aren't effective. It's a primitive fortification mostly consisting of sandbags, but...we should have brought heavy artillery."
This was what it meant to be dumbfounded. We chose a random village, but it just happens to have defenses so great, we need heavy artillery to capture it?
"...I never imagined they would be this prepared."
He was a marine mage who knew only counterinsurgency battles and putting down revolts in the colonies.
Astonished, he grumbled almost unconsciously. "I can't believe it... You're telling me the people who live here built up these fieldworks?"
It would be more realistic if he had been told that the enemy had broken their codes and there was a mole in the upper echelons.
But his doubt was swept away by the man standing next to him.
"...I think it's possible."
"Colonel Mikel..."
"To these villagers, we Federation soldiers are none other than the army of the 'beloved' Communist Party. I imagine the guys facing us today have probably faced a great deal of unreasonable demands time and time again," Mikel bitterly spat. "That would explain why they're so fiercely antagonisti
c."
Mikel was a patriot, but you couldn't exactly call him a Communist Party lapdog. Still, he was hounded by the fallout of his owner's deeds nonetheless.
What a contradiction.
They all hated the party from the bottom of their hearts, yet they were stuck fighting on opposite sides. It was awful that they couldn't understand each other.
For now, there's nothing we can do. Drake shook his head.
Talking took time. For armies at war, time was a resource far too precious.
Just because they had to perform reconnaissance-in-force didn't mean they were obligated to become martyrs. As the ones who had secured an escape route and nervously pushed into enemy territory...they couldn't wait to leave.
As far as Drake was concerned, he wanted to turn around the moment they had achieved something noteworthy. He had made a secret agreement with Mikel---that if need be, they would consider withdrawing by having Drake be "unreasonable..."
"...We need to achieve something."
"That's surely what Moskva wants."
But they couldn't leave without bringing anything back. There was Mikel's position to consider. Sadly, if they failed, Drake's esteemed friend would be left in the ever-merciful party's hands.
"Then shall we put some icing on the cake of this Commonwealth and Federation joint operation? We've got to win, even if only in name."
"We sure do." It happened just as Mikel nodded with a wry grin.
Right as an infantry unit approached a cowshed that had been converted into a pillbox, the pair of officers witnessed them get blown up by a bomb that must have been hidden in the gutter.
On top of that, sniper fire began, and the shooter seemed zeroed in.
"Ah, fuck. This is rubbish!" Drake griped. The scene unfolding before his eyes was horrific.
Before the survivors fell one after the other, Federation mages hurled a hail of smoke grenades while keeping their defensive shells at the ready, but the other side's fire never stopped.
Drake may not have understood Federation language, but the shouts and screams filling the air were common among all nations. Even as someone proud to have made it through some terrible battlefields, this one gave him the urge to fling every curse he could think of at God.
The Federation Army couldn't go down without a fight. The mages hurled formulas at the pillbox, and under that cover fire, the foot soldiers approached and silenced it with explosives.
This was what neutralizing pillboxes one by one was like.
But the casualties were adding up.
They put up a smoke screen to recover the few injured, and while the Federation unit regrouped, the commander raised his voice into a megaphone. "We're here to purge the armed guerrillas! If you turn them over, we'll guarantee the village's safety!"
"Surrender!"
"No!"
The reply was the definition of fierce. The Communist Party must have really wronged these people.
"...So that's how it goes if it's the Federation Army?" Drake remarked, grabbing the interpreter standing by next to him.
He didn't have time, but he converted his point into Federation language, and when he figured his awful pronunciation was good enough to be understood, he shifted into action.
"Colonel Mikel, let us handle this."
"What?"
As Mikel was readying to mount another attack, Drake returned to his side and stated his business plainly.
He knew that obtaining Mikel's approval here would probably be bad for his position in the Federation Army. Instead, he would have to frame it in a way that made it seem like he acted mostly at his own discretion. Drake began shouting in clumsy Federation language, "This is the Commonwealth Army! Surrender to us! As His Majesty's soldiers, we will treat you in accordance with international law!"
What? For a moment, it was silent.
Drake braced himself and went out where the villagers, who had been flatly refusing to surrender, could see his uniform.
Even a mage could die if they were shot through their defensive shell, but a marine mage with no vanity or insanity was like a human with no soul.
"If you refuse, we'll have the Federation Army charge right into the village!"
Having said that much in Federation language, Drake was sure his words were having an effect. The proof was how the cacophony of shooting had stopped.
Most importantly, Drake himself hadn't been shot despite stepping out of cover.
Step one was cleared.
Drake had figured the next thing would be to drag the frightened interpreter over and begin negotiations, but his expectations were betrayed in a good way.
"A-are you really Commonwealth Army?!"
It was his native language.
"Can't you even tell the difference between our uniforms?!" Drake shouted back but raised his evaluation of the village. He never thought a Federation national out in the sticks would be able to speak official Commonwealth language so fluently.
"Give us proof that you're not from the Federation!"
"I'm proud to declare it! You think I'm such a moron that I'd mistake my own army?!"
"Shaddup!"
To think that I'd be having a shouting match in my native language out here. You never know what life has in store. But he welcomed the fact that this would make things easier.
"Surrender! If you turn over the combatants, we guarantee the noncombatants will stay safe. I swear on our flag!"
Did they understand the implication? Please let them get the message, please...
Drake prayed to God.
Luckily...his prayer was heard.
"...We're coming out now."
"Okay, hand over the combatants."
The response that squeezed out was the one he had hoped for.
They could work out a compromise.
...Although it was the weakest possible compromise.
"Hold your fire! Don't do anything stupid!"
Having Mikel there roaring to prevent an explosion was reassuring. They were in trouble if luck abandoned them now.
It was no wonder it felt like such a long time.
"Throw down your weapons and come out with your hands in the air!"
"Shit."
A rifle was tossed onto the snow.
One, two, and as they piled up, ten men formed a line, facing Drake with their hands in the air.
He daringly walked right toward them and yelled for effect. "Tie them up! Bundle them for the air travel to the port! We'll send them to the homeland as prisoners! Do not, under any circumstances, do anything careless like letting them freeze to death!" Everything after what he had initially stated was purely to put the prisoners at ease. It also functioned as a stern warning to the Federation Army, who were no doubt hostile toward them.
It took time and effort, yes, but it was a necessary procedure.
While the Commonwealth Army secured the prisoners, Drake sighed like a weight had been taken off his shoulders.
In reality, they probably hadn't succeeded in disarming the village. He'd demanded they turn over combatants, so the village had simply offered some adult men. If they tried to take control of the place wholesale, there would no doubt be a counterattack.
"Nice work, Colonel Drake. You managed to take prisoners and, in theory, subdue the village. That's successful enough. Let's get out of here."
"What'll happen to you? Why don't we play around a little more?"
"I appreciate your consideration, but there's no need. Under the circumstances, all we can do now is withdraw."
Drake put his hand to his ear. I don't understand what you're saying.
"What are you---?" Mikel nearly raised his voice, but when Drake pointed at the political officer who had appeared in the distance, he understood and nodded.
Using the excuse of the language barrier, they would involve the political officer in the decision to withdraw. That was the little farce Drake had penned.
"I should have her interpret?"
"Su
re...a little slapstick comedy now and then can be enjoyable."
"If this script works, how about becoming a playwright, Colonel Drake? I'll write you a letter of recommendation to Londinium's most venerable theater."
"Ha-ha-ha! Please do."
Having understood what they were up to now, Mikel called the political officer over in Federation language.
Of course, circumstances were such that it was possible to consider their mission accomplished. It went without saying that even a half-baked soldier like the political officer would be able to tell that withdrawing was the most prudent thing to do---which was why some cheap acting could get them results.
Drake couldn't understand the storm of Federation language Mikel was speaking to her, but he could guess what they were talking about.
That was only natural, as it was he who had written the script.
"...You're going to keep fighting, Colonel Mikel?" When he asked a question pretending he had read the vibes, the political officer nodded at him, puzzled.
"Sorry, Colonel Drake. Could you wait a little while?" She apologized and then began discussing something with Mikel. It felt pretty good to have an idea, just for the moment, of what they were saying even though they were speaking in a foreign language.
Most likely, the political officer is kindly persuading or perhaps admonishing stubborn Colonel Mikel into withdrawing.
Contrary to his actual feelings, Mikel would appear reluctant and Drake, who had involved the political officer, would suggest withdrawing.
Considering what a simplified outline Drake had come up with, it was laughable, but when thinking of ways he could appeal to the higher-ups in the Federation Army, it was a necessary step. That said, he couldn't take it easy. It wouldn't do to put on a clumsy show for their guests from the Empire and their refined tastes.
The imperial mage unit rushing this way was probably going to be a handful. The unit securing the escape route was currently engaged with a superior enemy, so they needed to hurry.
"Excuse me, but maybe I should prep the prisoners to be sent to the rear?"
"Yes, I suppose that must be done. I'll explain things to Colonel Mikel. Please make the arrangements."