JANUARY 9, UNIFIED YEAR 1928, EASTER COMMAND RECEPTION
Dumbstruck.
Tanya stares at Colonel Lergen, the word written all over her face.
We are in the reception lounge at Eastern Command. The master of this room, General Laudon, is so busy with on-site inspections that he has yet to barely set foot in it…or so said Colonel Lergen. Things are apparently tough throughout the Empire.
The room itself, however, is thoroughly clean. It has also been completely insulated. On top of that, I've been served steaming hot tea and even a scone to go with it.
One could almost forget they're in a war zone. However, there are places located much farther away from the battlefield. "And what are the people in those lofty perches thinking?" I ask, speaking to Colonel Lergen. Colonel Lergen has been sent as a messenger from the capital.
I repeat myself once more.
"I'm sorry, Her Highness the Princess wants to carry out an inspection?
And for a whole month, if possible?"
"Correct. And in person. Her Highness Princess Alexandra wishes to grace us with her presence directly."
"Not a visit with General Laudon? She wishes to be on the front line?"
A high-value political target on the front lines. Even if such a thing were strategically motivated, it would tactically be beyond perilous.
Not to mention. I mentally clutch at my head.
"On the front line now, Colonel Lergen? At a time like this?"
"Correct, Colonel. Rather than trouble the commander on the ground, the court wishes to observe what officers are seeing for themselves on the front line."
The court! So it wasn't even General Staff behind this!
"I am sure my devotion to the imperial household is as great as any, but as to whether such a thing is feasible, speaking as someone on the ground, coming from a place of true love for Their Majesties, one cannot help but feel concerns of safety…"
"Speak plainly."
"It is too dangerous," I say, encouraged by Colonel Lergen's frank nod. "If Her Highness must come, it would be far better even for General Laudon to spare his valuable time in dealing with her."
"Is it that bad? I mean, I imagined, but judging by the frown on your face, it is worse than I thought."
I consider the question, choosing my words exactly so as to be sure there is no room for misunderstanding.
"Even the enemy partisans are fearsome. I only learned this after returning to the east, but our pacification force was half destroyed by a counterattack that included tanks."
"Oh," Colonel Lergen says, frowning and nodding. "You mean the mopping-up with a force composed of an infantry battalion and aerial mage company dispatched from division headquarters?"
"Yes," I say. "And that was just mopping up one base."
"Security in the rear has improved quite a bit, though, thanks to cooperation from the Council for Self-Government, which General Zettour has poured so much effort into…"
Rather the opposite, I think as I internally disagree with Colonel Lergen's words.
The idea that the people under the Communist Party's rule welcome Communism in their hearts and look up to the Communist Party as a trusted parent may just be an illusion, but the people are well aware that the terror of the party is very real indeed.
The dream of separating from the Federation are but conditional dreams, dependent on the commitment of the Imperial Army to protect them from the party becoming fully functional.
The Imperial Army is still holding out. But so long as impending victory
is not guaranteed, regardless of whatever dreams of self-determination they might hold, the Council for Self-Government will likely continue to straddle the fence. "In other words," I say, splashing cold water on Colonel Lergen's hopes. "The Council for Self-Government and the Federation Army partisans are fighting a phony war. To put it another way, they are essentially at a standstill."
"Spies, we had imagined. But if our organizations in the back lines are in conversation with the enemy…"
"No, Colonel Lergen," I say, correcting his misunderstanding.
It is not that we have been betrayed at the organizational level. At the very least, the Council for Self-Government is unlikely as of yet to have reached such a drastic decision. They are as faithful as the situation allows. After all, compared with the Federation, the Empire is the preferable option. However, if the Empire sinks, they do not plan to sink with it. Simply, this difference in position is what has created the current situation.
"It is a love triangle." "A…love triangle?"
"The Council for Self-Government is only cheating because it needs to. Their real target is us, but if we leave them, they have no choice but to consider alternatives. It is the unfortunate but compelling reality in which they live. Listen, for the Empire, the peace and safety of communication lines is everything. If attacks from Federation partisans decrease, morale- wise, it would likely be seen as a sign that the situation is improving. The Council for Self-Government is walking a fine line. Are they really moving to subjugate? In the end, the answer to that depends on both ourselves and the Federation."
Even while the Council for Self-Government has hopes for the Empire, they have to prepare for the worst and reserve the possibility of returning to the Federation. Meaning the current situation has left the Council for Self- Government's faith in the Empire shaken.
"If the Council for Self-Government dallies with the enemy or, through shady standstills, curtails attacks, that is just a necessary expedient to their continued existence. At the same time, it also improves our own circumstances. However, it gives the Federation partisans, who are likely to be very powerful in the future, time to develop within our sphere of influence."
"I think I see what you are saying, Colonel… This strange love triangle has developed because the Council for Self-Government is playing nice to both sides. Furthermore," Colonel Lergen says, sounding fed up, "at some point, this triangle may collapse. And…"
"It will collapse. The Council for Self-Government has no reason to share in our fate."
Their true nature is an organization opposed to the Federation. But the organization is hardly composed of only people willing to bet everything on that opposition. To that end, to keep them from giving up, the Empire must continue to stand firm and act tough, doing all it can to prolong collapse.
"Colonel Lergen, in our present situation, until things go well, we must act as if they are going well and behave as if what we desire is already here."
The current state of the Empire is miserable. All we can strive for is to keep operating hand to mouth, pretending not to collapse until collapse actually happens. Which is why it is important not to draw unwelcome attention.
I may laugh at the long-term planning capacities of the Communists, but I'm painfully aware of what sort of opportunists they are. If we let them see blood, they won't be able to keep themselves from pouncing.
"Putting power aside, the supposed improvements in the rear are nothing but a paper tiger. It's true that the front is calm, however…"
An inspection of the east by Her Highness the Princess. Just thinking of the toxic effect such a thing could have makes my stomach ache. Colonel Lergen nods.
"Colonel, you need not say more. The higher-ups wished to change Her Highness's mind as well.
"Unfortunately, however," Colonel Lergen continues, his face looking pained, "This request came from the court, the first such request made to the military in some time. Systematically, it is extremely difficult to openly oppose such things. We tried to convince them not to, but…" Colonel Lergen shakes his head.
"It was no use." "Meaning?"
"It was decided that a visit would be permissible at the present time.
Even though we ourselves consider it extremely risky."
"Perhaps if the army was to make another attempt to advise her?" "Colonel Alexandra is very diligent…the type to pore over each and
every war report. She's inferred from the documents that it will be safe until spring. As a result, even General Zettour's exhortations were for naught."
"Not even General Zettour could persuade her? Unbelievable," I say, but Colonel Lergen's response is emphatic.
"Make no mistake," he says. Looking into the distance, he sighs. "When I heard it from Colonel Uger, I was amazed."
Apparently, General Zettour visited the palace and met with both the emperor himself and Her Highness the Princess, speaking with unprecedented eloquence.
"This is my own humble speculation, but there seems to be a disturbance in the enemy's movements. The eastern army believes that the Federation's counterattack will come in spring at the earliest, but there is reason to doubt this. Speaking plainly in absolute secrecy, the hard truth is that the enemy's offensive is most likely only a matter of time. Indeed, the reason for sending General Laudon was to prepare for such an immediate risk. The situation at present is extremely dangerous," he said, all of it nonsense, using his position as a specialist to stress the danger.
But Her Highness the Princess had been reading all the reports and believed she knew best. "I thought the army's judgment, as a whole, is that the earliest the enemy will come is in spring?" she apparently said.
"Honestly," Colonel Lergen says, furrowing his brows in consternation. "A little knowledge is a dangerous thing." Lergen continues, speaking
offhandedly. "I was thinking, however…if, say, a suitable report from the suitable department were to make its way to the capital at the most suitable time—well, I imagine that would be very suitable. All I need is a suitable person to write it from the front lines."
I think I understand what he's getting at. My face, however, clouds over. This is all about what suited General Staff. It hardly requires any powers of discretion to know what is expected of her.
"So you would like me to immediately create a false report."
"A foreboding report that contains true details but causes a convenient misunderstanding would be acceptable as well," Colonel Lergen says, tapping the desk with his fingertips as he explains what the higher-ups would like. "Specifically, a report that predicts an impending threat from
the Federation Army should be ideal." I sigh for the umpteenth time.
"I'm sorry, but as we are assigned directly to the General Staff, our reports tend to be fairly literal."
If we write something careless, some very serious-minded military men might take some careless ideas seriously and wind up causing unimaginable chaos.
"That could potentially lead to a report that causes mistaken military assessments. I could write a report accurately detailing the results of extended long-range strategic reconnaissance, perhaps, but I cannot promise more than that."
I expect to be met with scorn. As a company man, I feel half resigned as I give my answer. Instead, however, I'm greeted with an unexpectedly positive reaction.
"That may not be a bad idea." "Huh?"
"Think of it this way… If your recon turns up nothing, it will give us some cause to relax."
"What…?"
Colonel Lergen claps his hands together, absolutely delighted and completely ignoring Tanya, whose eyes have gone wide at this unexpected reaction.
"I will rush back to General Zettour and Colonel Lergen and inform them that reconnaissance is necessary. My love for the imperial household is just as great as your own, Colonel. And if safety can be ensured, then there is certainly nothing wrong with Her Highness learning more about the situation on the ground."
As Colonel Lergen stares at her with unconcealed anticipation, there is only one answer that Tanya can return.
"I shall do everything in my power."
Now that we have something to do, there is nothing to do but for us to do it. Although a simple matter, Tanya sits on a wooden seat, likely used for farming purposes, in the barn they have dubbed with the grand name of
Kampfgruppe Command Center and informs the other officers of Colonel Lergen's orders as they all stare at a map spread out on a folding field table. "Everyone, we have special orders from the General Staff. Eastern Command's General Laudon has given approval once again as well. In other words, the important people are all on the same page. We've been
ordered to carry out strategic reconnaissance."
I don't expect much consideration from the warmongers. In fact, she knows they are incapable of it. Thus, in this matter, they have no choice but to commit and take this reconnaissance absolutely serious.
"According to Colonel Lergen, we are to approach reconnaissance with a fresh perspective, unhampered by previous assumptions."
The gathered officers nod as one. They are Salamander Kampfgruppe, after all. If General Staff wishes to investigate the eastern army's assumptions, then as the on-site Kampfgruppe under direct General Staff command, Salamander are naturally the ones to do it.
The problem, however…
One of the officers raises a hand. "Yes, Lieutenant Wüstemann?"
"Excuse me, Colonel, but when you say 'perspective,' does that include analysis? Or will we simply be eyes on this?"
"Good question," I say with a laugh.
A recon squad's job is to report on what it sees. In that sense, they are eyes. But whether to put analysis on top of that is a separate issue.
Generally, people have a tendency to add their own opinions to what they see. First Lieutenant Wüstemann's diligence in checking to see if they have permission to do this leaves a favorable impression.
"Both. We are eyes, and we are ears, hounds tasked with reporting on something the higher-ups have caught whiff of. This is why we are under the General Staff's direct command."
I admonish myself internally. Veteran officers are so used to what they do that permission tends to become a grey area, but it is important to properly value the opinions of young, new recruits.
"First, let's check our own side. We'll start by patrolling with each company. A patrol flight to grasp the situation near the front. I want you to confirm friendly defenses."
"I'm sorry, but didn't you just say it was strategic recon? Aren't we
going to scout the Federation Army?"
"Come on," First Lieutenant Grantz says, elbowing First Lieutenant Wüstemann in the side in response to this artless question.
"It's fine, First Lieutenant Grantz. He needs to learn as well."
"I'm sorry, Colonel, it's just… That seems a little dense, doesn't it?" "What are you two talking about…?" First Lieutenant Wüstemann says,
evidently confused. Major Weiss grimaces and lays a heavy hand on his shoulder.
"If you were in charge of defense, don't you think it would put you on alert somewhat if you saw a sudden increase in enemy squads scouting your side?"
There are many benefits to reconnaissance, but if carried out in too straightforward of a manner, you can reveal what you are up to. As an extreme example, imagine what would have happened if, as part of preparations for the Normandy landings, the Allied forces had closely and repeatedly scoured only the area around Normandy? It would have likely put the Germans on alert, causing them to notice an unusual increase in enemy reconnaissance around Normandy and wonder why, leading to a pointless increase in casualties.
"At present, this reconnaissance mission is not a false flag meant to lure the enemy into mistakenly believing an attack is coming. We are here to scope out the situation, plain and simple."
"Meaning we mustn't allow the enemy to notice what we are doing." "Exactly, Visha. We must conceal our intentions and uncover theirs. The
best recon is carried out without the enemy noticing it."
Hence why satellites are best, I think privately, though I know such thoughts are pointless. Technological limitations are insurmountable, and it is important to always keep operational limitations in mind. If we had satellites, though, we could scout enemy intentions without even sending spy planes.
Of course, even with spy satellites, recon is still required. I understand that a long-range recon squad's fate is to be forever worked to the bone. In the end, no matter what else happens, regardless of the age, armies are always eager to conceal their own intentions while uncovering the intentions of everyone else.
I put the brakes on this current tangent and get right to the point.
"Regardless of how Eastern Command has judged the situation, in regard to friendly forces or the enemy situation, I do not want us to reveal our own situation—that we are scouting the enemy—to the Federation. To put it another way," I continue, "what is the state of the enemy's recon activities? This can be detected to a degree even flying over our own lines. If enemy recon of our bases has increased, this could be very significant in and of itself. And if recon has fallen off, the reason for that will also need to be explored. Understood?"
In response, First Lieutenant Wüstemann nods his head rapidly. What more could be asked for?
-x-X-x-
JANUARY 11, UNIFIED YEAR 1928, SKY ABOVE EASTERN CAMP
Mage company inspection and recon operations involve long-range flight. The 203rd Aerial Mage Battalion, however, is an outstanding outfit that has paid considerable attention to its deep deployment capabilities. They aren't given such impossible tasks by General Staff for nothing.
At minimum, battalion members are expected to be able to fly, scout, occasionally engage in combat, and engage in pursuit missions if necessary, all while keeping a cheery tune on their lips.
For a mission like this, where recon must be carried out in secret, two or three days of long-range scouting flight isn't likely to take much more of a toll beyond a few tired grumbles. The mages quietly form ranks in the sky and begin cruising the eastern skies in high spirits, the flower on the Empire's instrument of violence.
But no matter how much the spear tip glitters, the shaft itself may still remain dull.
For instance, take their sleeping arrangements. Those buildings are far too simple and shabby for a base, where the essence of that glittering instrument of violence, the mages, now sleep.
Although, thanks to the efforts of First Lieutenant Tospan, this village that is our camp has been transformed into the finest of Potemkin villages.
This is because First Lieutenant Tospan's field construction has focused solely on camouflage and comfort.
Still, one must credit his creativity and ingenuity. The passion that First Lieutenant Tospan poured into improving our living conditions and disguising our base while we were away is tremendous, allowing us to just barely arrange for everyone to be able to gather indoors for sleep and recuperation without needing to worry about drafts.
Although, in exchange, when it comes to defenses, there are barely even foxholes present. The defensive capabilities differ very little from an ordinary village. Plus, the promised concrete has not arrived. All the better for camouflage, though. No matter how many times she views it from above, even to my deeply suspicious eyes, the camp does not appear to be anything more than a deserted village that is partway through reconstruction.
As a temporary residence, this is probably much safer than building a perimeter of half-assed defensive positions. The one problem, however, thinks I think with a grimace, is that the camouflage is so good that it is difficult to distinguish this place from other villages.
"Well, well. We're just lucky that the village is next to Eastern Command. Otherwise, we might fly right past it without even noticing."
Leading the company at its head, I begin descending. As I near the ground, I spot First Lieutenant Tospan.
"What is it, Lieutenant?"
Why is the officer coming out to greet them? Has something happened?
It seems odd.
"You're the last, Colonel, so I just thought I'd meet you partway." "Thank you, Lieutenant! You didn't need to go to such trouble."
The implied meaning is that everyone is waiting for them. With a return salute, Tanya heads toward the barn, which has been made into a command center, to show her face.
Captain Meybert, Major Weiss, First Lieutenant Grantz, and First Lieutenant Wüstemann. Add First Lieutenant Tospan, who was keeping guard outside; and Captain Ahrens, who is elsewhere at the moment due to vehicle repairs; and together with Tanya and Visha, you would have the Kampfgruppe's entire command element.
This is the Kampfgruppe's leadership. We are fairly small in number, but
on the plus side, this allows for close coordination. Honestly, though, we are actually just short on people. As a Kampfgruppe without exclusive command personnel, command is a heavy burden to manage.
I shake my head and begin speaking.
"We're back. It seems I'm the last," I say, turning to the commander who was left behind and getting right down to it. "Captain Meybert, anything to report in our absence?"
"We've been receiving regular reports from Eastern Command. As air supremacy throughout the east is in dispute, deep reconnaissance is unavoidably imperfect, but results have been gathered to a certain degree."
Oh? My face breaks into a smile at word of the decisive efforts of our friendly forces.
"As far as aerial recon can tell, the enemy seems to be hibernating." I grimace, not sure if those are good results or bad.
I've been thinking…if Air Fleet manages to sniff out something even slightly amiss, it would have been an excuse for the whole battalion to carry out reconnaissance in force and overinflate the threat posed by the Federation Army in reports. As great as it is that everything is peaceful and quiet, it does leave us in a jam.
Captain Meybert continues:
"The eastern army's frontline units sent out repeated recon in force squads as well, but resistance was fairly limited."
Captain Meybert has even more good news to share.
"As far as Air Fleet could confirm, despite antagonism, air superiority in the Empire's field of influence has been generally maintained. A smattering of spy planes have entered our territory, but everything generally seems normal."
"Understood," I say, before turning my eyes toward the other commanders, who were sent out with their companies into different areas. "Okay, everyone else…what did you find?"
In response, First Lieutenant Grantz slowly stands up and gives his recently compiled report.
"It was just as Captain Meybert reported. Other than repelling a few small-scale enemy units, my unit did not encounter any fighting."
"Small-scale recon units?"
"The largest was an approaching enemy mage company."
"Reconnaissance in force?"
"As recon in force goes, they were fairly passive. Their skill level was passable enough, but they seemed to turn tail pretty much as soon as we entered their detection zone. The enemy is apparently quite skittish. We gave the run around a few times…even tried crossing into their area of influence slightly thinking we could pursue. But interception was positively anemic. The only thing I will say is their antiair fire was above standard. I think they may have bulked up slightly."
"They've built up their air defense grid?" I ask reflexively, inviting a serious response from Major Weiss.
"Hmm. Maybe they're settling in." "How about you, Major Weiss?"
"It was pretty much the same as First Lieutenant Grantz. We didn't carry out any strikes into enemy territory, but the enemies we encountered were similarly quick to run. What about you, Colonel?"
"We experienced the same. Unless First Lieutenant Serebryakov has anything to add, it seems the sky is the same all across the front."
"I see," Major Weiss says, stepping back and turning his eye toward First Lieutenant Wüstemann as if to ask, Anything else? A slightly nervous expression appears on the first lieutenant's face.
"Major Weiss, I have something to report. On what I saw in the rear…in the autonomous area I was assigned. The effect of increased security is showing. General Laudon carrying out his own inspections seems to have had quite an effect. In any case, partisan activity has calmed down."
I can't help but arch my eyebrows in response to this report from the new replacement officer tasked with surveilling the back lines. The fact that things are growing calmer is generally good news. However…
"…A lack of attacks and our army succeeding in suppressing the area are not the same thing," I respond harshly.
"They have been successfully mopping up."
"First Lieutenant Wüstemann, are you claiming that a lack of enemy attacks means that the enemy has been successfully neutralized…?"
"Yes—I mean no. Colonel, reports were that several areas have been successfully cleared out, and multiple partisan bases have been suppressed." The enemy partisan groups that chip away at our lines of communications, creating damage that accumulates. Their subjugation is a
major issue for the Imperial Army in the east, which would make this a remarkable achievement that should be celebrated by all rights.
Hence why Tanya is unable to instantly believe what he says. "Wait, are you serious?"
"Autonomous security forces and imperial Feldgendarmerie carried out a successful joint pacification operation."
"The Council for Self-Government actually did something?"
"Yes," First Lieutenant Wüstemann says, holding out the report.
Glancing over it, I'm taken aback.
Security operations are generally dirty work. Being on the front lines of such operations is tough, and most would rather shirk such activity. Moreover, the Council for Self-Government ought to have been still playing with two strings to its bow. How could this be? The Council, with their knowledge of the locale, leading the way!
With appropriate guidance and support, the heavily equipped Imperial Army forces managed to mop up the enemy in a targeted operation with minimal collateral damage! And the resulting pacification allows the Council for Self-Government forces to now maintain a degree of security in occupied territories!
Just the other day, she was speaking with Colonel Lergen of the Council for Self-Government's "dalliances," and now here they were, acting like proud partners to the Empire.
"This is too good to be true… Regardless of General Laudon's efforts, could we really expect to see results this quickly? I'm sorry, but this seems suspicious."
"But," First Lieutenant Wüstemann argues, "multiple partisan groups have fallen. My company even assisted in mopping up some enemies at the end…though only the one time."
Hmph. I nod and urge him to continue.
"Has this put us completely back on track with previous transportation lane initiatives?"
"Initiatives?"
"Led by field engineers to recruit locals in exchange for wages and food. In short, roadbuilding and maintenance as a part of incentive-based pacification ops. Is it being carried out, and can we expect results?"
Crushing the enemy partisans and ensuring the safety of transportation
lanes. What could be considered an extremely important victory if we expect to build up forces and oppose the counterattack that is likely to come in spring or thereafter.
A more-than-perfect result.
First Lieutenant Wüstemann, the one who brought this report, is not the type of officer to go back on his word or to pad his reports. For better or worse, he is a serious officer by nature and, while still inexperienced, is hardly stupid. He has the intelligence to distinguish between what he has seen and his own opinions.
And yet something still bothers Tanya.
Is it just hard to believe that an organization with loyalties to both sides would suddenly roll over and become so faithful and affectionate?
I give it some thought.
Maybe this is just an example of General Laudon living up to General Zettour's faith in him? No, there is nothing wrong with the idea of a diligent superior officer producing respectable results, but… Lost in thought, I cross my arms and sink into silence.
"Colonel…?"
Looking up in response to her adjutant's worried voice, I shake my head. "I know. Can I have the communication logs? I want to see how much communication has been intercepted. Between partisan forces and
Federation officials." "But it's encrypted."
"Yes, I know. Honestly, it doesn't need to be deciphered. I just want to know how much communication has been passing between the two."
"In that case," First Lieutenant Serebryakov says, handing over a report submitted by comms personnel. I quickly glance over it. According to the report, which is mostly just simple notes, despite a slight increase while they were carrying out mopping-up operations, there has been no major change in the total volume of communications.
Essentially, there is nothing particularly suspicious here.
"And the enemy doesn't seem to be in a position to take proactive action…?"
So it seems. In theory. Thus…
"The Federation is still rebuilding," I say. "And the enemy partisans are also hunkering down for the winter. So we were able to mop them up with
relatively little trouble?"
It sounds like wonderful news. Even Tanya, there on the ground, can find no clear grounds to refute this explanation.
But. But. But.
"Something doesn't sit right…," I say, muttering my true feelings. "Backline territories pacified, our defensive line coming together, and the enemy still regrouping. General Laudon has arrived on scene to rearrange eastern battle arrays, which General Zettour had been so worried about. If all this is true, everything is going swimmingly…"
Everything's coming up Empire. If all these developments can be accepted at face value, the situation is improving. The homeland. Eastern Command. The rear. All in excellent shape.
In other words, the outlook is bright. The dark winter is nearly over, and spring is just around the corner. The Empire is awash in good news.
Hope is a wonderful thing. But even the most delicious of dishes can leave you feeling sick. That's why I continue to be hounded by vague suspicion.
Have we…fallen for something awful? Fallen for a scam?
The duties of the Commonwealth Intelligence Agency were extremely wide-reaching, with a variety of work taking place within the agency, including anti-Empire espionage, domestic counterintelligence, duties related to the colonies, schemes to build support in former colonies, and efforts to appear as a good counselor to allied nations.
Naturally, much of this work was classified. An extremely busy, high- level agent could find themselves handling several projects that were not to be revealed by any means.
It took a thief to… Well, the rest should be obvious. Thus, in his mind, the man known as Mr. John could hardly fault other nations for their brazenness.
This time, however, Mr. John was forced to humbly doff his cap. "Very brazen of the Communists… Very brazen indeed."
The Intelligence Agency office was currently housing the happy pair of Habergram and John. These two, who each had strong opinions about the
qualities of desks, were currently face-to-face in a highly controlled corner of office headquarters, gritting their teeth in surprise and displeasure at that latest information that their liaison officer in the east had acquired.
"Sir, could this be a mistake?" "Unlikely."
"I see," Mr. John said, nodding slightly in response to his superior's words.
An urgent report had come from the officer they had dispatched. According to the report, there were signs of an impending large-scale strategic offensive by the Federation Army. If true, the implications were massive.
Launching an attack at such a time!
Despite being part of allied war efforts, the Commonwealth Intelligence Agency was taken completely by surprise when they learned of these attack plans, which were code-named Rising Dawn.
Agents assigned to the Federation were left speechless, and there were even rumors that the section chief, who had been left with considerable egg on his face, had chosen to drown his mortification in heavy drink—a behavior that was highly out of character for him.
This showed just how little Commonwealth officials had managed to successfully anticipate Rising Dawn.
And inversely, how diligent Federation officials had been in not allowing even the Commonwealth Intelligence Agency to catch wind of what they had in the works.
A thorough deception. What amounted, in the end, to intentional fraud.
And if one was to reassess the various bits of intelligence, under the assumption that what they had seen was what the Federation wished to show, Mr. John thought, asking and answering his own question.
"Yes, now I see it. Efforts to dangle the Empire's own dream in front of its face."
The aim of Rising Dawn was a strategic surprise attack. Any attack that caught the enemy with their pants down was always powerful. The Federation must have gone to great lengths not to reveal to the Empire any signs pointing to the timing for their attack.
Knowing of the attack, however, went far in explaining recent movements of the Federation in hindsight. Mr. John flashed a grimace of
understanding at the director.
"I thought that it was strange that the Communists hadn't been undermining the Council for Self-Government lately…"
"It is the opposite. They have finished undermining and have moved on to dividing."
The Council for Self-Government forces were being extremely cooperative with the Imperial Army. Usually, the council had to skirt around both forces, the Federation and the Empire. At a glance…taking such clear sides would seem to indicated the Empire had come out on top.
But if it was, in fact, a sham orchestrated by Federation officials?
In other words, if they had intentionally incited those taking the Imperial line into a mopping-up operation? Luring them into fighting with the partisans would help to blunt the tip of anti-Federation forces while also damaging public perception… Plus, it would give the Imperial Army the false impression that the back lines were safe.
On the other hand, the latent New Federalists in the Council for Self- Government had considerably expanded their power as a result.
"A perfect example of infiltration."
"Yes, not even our own office can ignore such a thing."
"Dividing enemy from friend. Dividing and then telling them to govern.
I doubt even we are capable of such malicious intent."
Hmph. These two men of the intelligence world tittered disapprovingly, snorting—from their gentlemanly surroundings—at such ungentlemanly behavior.
The Federation Army had remained circumspect. Hence why even their allies in the Commonwealth had remained in the dark up until the last moment. To put it another way, it showed just how greedy the Federation was for victory.
"The Empire doesn't seem to have noticed. It appears the Imperial Army in the east is snuggled up perfectly in their beds, dreaming only of the spring. At this rate…"
"Yes," Habergram said, agreeing with his underling. "They were supposedly so desperate for mages and yet were sending the multinational volunteer unit on expeditions far and wide."
"It makes sense now," Mr. John said, understanding the director's words. "They must really want to take victory on their own."
"Understandable. It is a chance for the Federation to snatch a massive gold star for themselves while the Alliance flounders in Ildoa."
"It's galling," he spat.
The two puffed away at their military tobacco, but even after tossing the butts into the growing pile in the ashtray, the bitter taste remained in their mouths.
The Federation and the Commonwealth were on the same side. Together with the Unified States, they formed a Grand Alliance. It was a term that sounded very nice, but regardless of the propaganda or what the world might think about them, in the end, they were just enemies who happened to find themselves in the same boat.
And besides, Mr. John was painfully aware. The Commonwealth, the Unified States, Ildoa, even François and the remnants of the Entente Alliance. They just kept losing against the Empire.
"It sounds better to say we keep hanging on, but…"
"I understand, public opinion would not be favorable." Mr. John needed no explanation.
The war was dragging on for too long, and people were growing tired. The public was desperate for someone to do something. What would happen if the Federation was to snatch victory on its own at a time such as this?
Politically, it would be a massive win. A gold mine. The Federation's prestige would skyrocket, and their external influence would become immeasurable.
In this war against the Empire, they all wanted victory. But the state was a greedy thing. When victory was in sight and one had the luxury to choose the manner in which they won, of course, they'd choose the method that would benefit themselves the most.
For his own part, after all, Mr. John was hardly thrilled at the prospect of their unpleasant neighbors—whom they were already only interacting with reluctantly—soon being able to swing their weight around even more unpleasantly than before.
"It's honestly confounding. Better if the Empire and the Federation were to both go down together."
"I couldn't agree more."
"In that case," Mr. John said, suggesting a curveball, "what if we were to
find it in our hearts to issue the Empire a warning?" "That an attack is already on the horizon?"
"Yes," John said in confirmation.
If they sent the Empire a warning now, situation withstanding, the Empire still had General Zettour in their stable. If they let this information leak through appropriate channels, that warhound was sure to show his worth.
"It would depend on the channels. But if done right, it could ensure us VIP seats to a very excellent future indeed."
In response to the suggestion, Habergram crossed his arms for a moment before groaning as if in internal conflict.
"It is a very attractive proposal…"
"Thank you very much." The two quickly put their jokes aside. "It is not really feasible, though, is it?"
"I suppose not. There would be too many issues. We are in an alliance, after all. If the leak were to come to light, it could lead to a chain of problems for us."
"Besides," the Intelligence Agency head honcho said, sharing the Commonwealth's true position with the senior agent. "Some degree of success, at the moment, is not completely unacceptable."
"But too much is?"
"Well, yes, I suppose that is where the problem lies. But just how effective do you think this offensive of theirs will be, this Rising Dawn? Just from your own personal estimate."
"The Federation Army has been very careful to keep the operation a secret. At the moment, there's no way to even be sure how reliable the information acquired by our agent in the field is. In which case…"
…it is impossible to tell. The director folded his arms and shook his head. Mr. John's answer was absolutely correct.
"It concerns me that the Empire has suddenly appointed General Laudon to Eastern Command. Why shore up command personnel at a time like this? I shrink at assuming that bilk, Zettour, will have nothing up his sleeve."
"True," John agreed. "General Laudon may be advanced in age and may have been sent off to fill the reserves, but they pulled him back in once the war began. Since he had been on sinecure for a while at first, we thought he was just another layman brought in to fill up officer numbers…but he had
formerly been General Zettour's superior. It may not be wise to underestimate such a man."
"Not according to the information they had gathered on him," the two muttered to themselves.
After essentially being pulled out of retirement, this General Laudon was immediately sent to the east as Regimental Commander Laudon, taking actual command of what was supposedly an honorary post. Then in the recent Ildoan war, despite being a high counselor, he had ridden in a twin- engine light bomber under the guise of studying Air Fleet conditions. Honorary regimental command was a sinecure post, while high counselor was a temporary holdover position, but looking at what the man had actually done, he seemed more akin to General Zettour.
"Most importantly, he was likely entrusted with the east on request of that bastard Zettour, no?"
"So it seems. Anyway, whether he's of the same level as Zettour, he certainly looks to be of the same type."
Hmph. The head honcho and the agents crossed their arms. The issue was simple. Had the Empire, and Zettour, grasped the situation with Rising Dawn? Or had they not? Before they could consider this further, however, the director spoke.
"Even if they do suspect an attack, they are clearly not certain. Rising Dawn may, in fact, be successful. Based on information from Ultra, they are currently fortifying defenses in preparation for an inspection by the Imperial family…"
"Wait. I'm sorry, did you just say an inspection by the Imperial family?" "Yes, why?" the director asked, mashing his cigarette into the ashtray. "I
see," John said, sighing as if annoyed. "Perhaps those fools in the Empire don't suspect anything after all."
Mr. John had his doubts about the Empire's competency when it came to matters outside war. But even the worst organizations, he believed, had at least one area in which they excelled. Yes, sure, they seemed to be shoring up command, and they had General Zettour, with his preternatural nose for such things. However…
"I thought the Empire at least knew what they were doing when it came to war."
"Yes, it's possible they have failed to pick up on this. I can't disagree.
Even if they did, though, if they have sniffed out an attack, they seem to have done so imperfectly. In which case, Rising Dawn is likely to succeed," Habergram muttered, not trying to disguise the displeasure in his voice.
"If the dawn of socialism is coming, it is not going to be very pleasant for two old boys like you and me."
"Now, now, we are allies, after all. Let's just pray that it is an underwhelming victory."
It would have been too much to say they hoped the Federation would lose. They were gentlemen, after all. At the same time, they couldn't stop themselves from frowning. A great victory for the Federation on the eastern front seemed to be written on the wall.
But before long, they would see: Zettour's miracle.
-x-X-x-
JANUARY 13, UNIFIED YEAR 1928, SALAMANDER KAMPFGRUPPE CAMP
Operation Sham Reporting was begun at Colonel Lergen's request.
No, the word sham is misleading. If there is no threat, that is what will be reported. It is more like Operation Overspeculation.
The most important thing is to ensure our troublesome guest does not cause any problems with her visit. Either way, we need to gather fodder for this report.
And so, the reconnaissance operation has begun. The results, however, are becoming seriously distressing, even for Tanya. Taken together with the scouting reports from the eastern army, which General Laudon provided, Tanya's bad feeling has steadily spiraled out of control.
Of course, there is nothing wrong. Absolutely nothing. Everything is going just as perfectly as can be wished for.
It's unnerving. Uneasiness like this, so difficult to put into words, generally turns out to be unfounded. But this feeling is far too uncanny to laugh off so easily.
When the decision is clear, determination easily follows.
"We need to go deep behind enemy lines on voluntary recon. I'll do it myself."
Standing up, I turn toward my second-in-command.
"Major Weiss, I leave the unit temporarily in your hands. You are in charge of Kampfgruppe command as well. But when leading the mage battalion, have Captain Meybert take care of things in your absence, like always."
"Colonel?" Major Weiss asks dubiously. I frown and make myself clear. "I want to peek inside the belly of the bear. We can't be sure of what's in
there until we split it open."
"But…we've checked several times, and everything we've found has backed up the information we already have. The Federation Army is quiet. Honestly, this seems pointless and dangerous."
I'm grateful for Weiss's concern, but I reiterate what I'm thinking.
"The situation is serious. Beloved members of the Imperial family will be coming to the front for inspections. Nothing unfortunate can be allowed to happen to Her Highness Princess Alexandra. This is just to make doubly sure that the possibility of any such misfortune has been eliminated."
"Yes, but…in that case, why don't I go?"
Major Weiss's readiness to volunteer to take her place is heartening. I'm touched. Maybe I'll take him up on that offer when something more dangerous comes along.
Seeing, however, is believing. And sometimes, you just need to do that seeing for yourself.
"Thank you for volunteering. However, I will go. For my wingman… First Lieutenant, will you accompany me?"
"Y-you don't want me to go?!" Visha shouts, apparently in shock.
I turn toward her in response. Visha is not the only one who looks amazed.
"You're going to fly recon with Grantz? That's pretty unusual. Would you mind if I ask why, Colonel?" Major Weiss says, his face even more confused than before.
Hmph. I cross my arms. Apparently, her explanation was insufficient.
"I've been flying with Lieutenant Serebryakov for a very long time. For better or for worse, we are very in sync. Lieutenant Grantz was selected by
General Zettour. If we're going to spot something we haven't been able to see before, then I think Lieutenant Grantz is the man for the job this time."
"Are you sure it should be you and Lieutenant Grantz, though, Colonel?"
"If you put it that way, Major Weiss, since you volunteered, I could leave it all up to you and Lieutenant Grantz instead…"
"By all means," Major Weiss answers. Major Weiss is a stalwart veteran. When given appropriate work, he can always be relied on to meet expectations. Under normal circumstances, I would have no problem relegating this task to him.
However, if management isn't familiar with the ground, everything else is pointless.
"In the end, I feel like I need to check this out for myself." "You feel…?"
"Funny, right? I know it isn't reasonable. But I need to get a feel for the pulse on the ground."
Reports, which condense main points, are convenient. But when analyzing a situation, in some cases, you still need to see the raw data for yourself.
But only in some cases.
The important people at the top often lack analytic ability. When raw data is sent that far up the chain, it often only results in tragedy. In most cases, such people will draw completely mistaken conclusions from correct information, and if the basis for these conclusions are confidential documents, then their subordinates, who are unable to inspect them, will be unable to refute the boss's findings. In which case, important decision- making could take place according to mistaken premises.
Hence why it is incorrect to say that everyone should see raw data. However, it is absolutely just as harmful for personnel in charge of interpreting information to lose their grip on the ground pulse. Without correct information and the correct framework through which to interpret it, even those with minute analytic powers will be unable to reach a correct conclusion.
Being unfamiliar with the situation on the ground is the same as being unable to make decisions based on actual conditions.
"So you see, I'll leave things here to you. We'll be two to three days at
most. If we're not back within a week, then you can assume we're MIA1 … I'm counting on you while I'm gone," I say, before leaving the barn.
Despite the sudden development, First Lieutenant Grantz is quickly on board, following after her, stoic and capable. The mission is sudden, but the first lieutenant is well used to that by now.
It isn't their usual pairing, and the flight is unplanned, but First Lieutenant Grantz wastes no time, as is expected of a magic officer.
Tanya and Grantz lift off into the sky in perfect deuce formation. The only thing that doesn't go completely smoothly is dealing with the controller at Eastern Command. After that, they rise up to an altitude of eight thousand and begin flying toward the front at nearly combat speed, a pace that feels invigorating for cruising.
However, the sun is already setting. The sun is quick to set over the gloomy winter Federation sky.
Before long, the already-meager sunlight sinks completely, leaving them flying solely by night. Usually, this would be the time to suspend a flight. But as veterans, the two have ample experience navigating during this time of day and are not bothered. Grateful instead for the curtain of darkness, they soon leave the front far behind and advance into the enemy's sphere of influence.
Naturally, detection equipment does not sleep, not even at night. As a result, they squeeze their mana signatures down as far as they can and fly as low as possible, dragging the ground to limit their detectable area.
An altitude that normal spy planes would not even be able to fly at.
Perhaps that's exactly why, despite it being nighttime, Tanya and First Lieutenant Grantz are able to pick up something that looks slightly out place. The surface of the ground beneath them seems almost too orderly.
"It's all just one blanket of silver… But am I imagining things? Isn't that a road?"
As they land on the surface, suspicion turns to certainty.
The road, which should be buried underneath snow, is right beneath their feet. And although white, when we crouch down and touch it with our fingers, it becomes immediately evident that the road has been painted.
"They must have gone through a lot of trouble just to dye it white."
It is clearly intentional camouflage. One that would likely be impossible
to spot with a sweep of a spy plane from the air. Unless they're used to reading the terrain, even mages would be unlikely to notice this.
The presence of a military road like this behind lines cannot point to anything good.
"This road looks functional."
"Yes," I say, nodding toward First Lieutenant Grantz and already preparing myself for the worst. A road of this scale? I can only stare in shock.
It has to be for a large-scale convoy or for more regular back-and-forth transport. Or possibly, could it be a sign that the enemy is assembling a large-scale force? Now that we have been lucky enough to find this massive artery, however, there is only one thing to do, and that is to explore it more fully.
"We'll set up a bivouac. An outlook. First, we need to surveil the road overnight."
"We don't have much food, though…"
"What? You've got at least two meals worth of high-calorie mage rations, don't you?"
Flinching slightly, First Lieutenant Grantz pats his chest pocket and grimaces.
"I've got two days' worth on me. Three if you include extra rations.
How about you, Colonel?"
"The same. Let's pray we spot the enemy quickly." "Honestly? From here?"
"Yes," I say, confirming. "Worst-case scenario, we could be stuck here tomorrow, too, so best to settle in."
Although difficult in the snow, we create an outlook that should be hard to notice. Working surreptitiously in the darkness of night is tough, but it has to be done.
Surveillance is a matter of patience.
Hunkering down together like this would have been easier with First Lieutenant Serebryakov, seeing as we know each other so well… Just then, First Lieutenant Grantz shifts his hand slightly, as if noticing something. As visibility is poor, I inch closer, realizing that First Lieutenant Grantz is pointing to something with his finger.
Light. Faint, but definitely moving. A vehicle.
Which must mean a convoy. And quite large in scale, taking the distance into account.
"Trucks, with their lights shielded? They certainly got here quick."
They say that good things happen when you least expect them, but this is one stroke of luck after another. We've barely been scouting long when we discovered the road, and now this. It's nice when things come easy.
Tanya smiles slightly, but then she immediately pulls a frown. The convoy that has suddenly appeared before her eyes is difficult to describe as anything other than large-scale. Even in this limited nighttime visibility, what we can make out is considerable. Tanya gulps as she stares through her binoculars at the unsettling sight.
The fact that the vehicles are loaded with cargo is fine. They are trucks, after all. That makes sense. But the tires seem to be in good shape, from what little we can see of them. That is bad news. Astonishing would be an understatement.
Good tires? On a transport truck? Transport trucks usually see a lot of use.
Maybe the truck is just well maintained. Or they've been careful with it.
Maybe they had spares. Maybe all three?
The fact that the truck is in good repair, and is loaded with cargo, is obvious at a glance. What with the existence of this road, which appears to be a supply route, Federation preparations seem to be much further along than we imagined.
"They're skilled, too," I mutter. "This is risky. It's not like they've got flood lights out here."
With their lights shielded, visibility is dim, and the road surface isn't great to begin with. Moving a convoy in organized fashion like this, under these conditions, isn't just tricky; it's outright dangerous.
"They seem pretty well regulated, however."
"True," I say, mentally jotting down First Lieutenant Grantz's words. "For the Federation, this is a fairly well-oiled operation they've got going…"
Hmm? I notice shadows moving across the snow. "A hunting team? Insane. Are those…war dogs?"
We spot what appears to be a lookout infantry team. Grantz and I have been lying low in the snow from the outset, but still, if we weren't careful,
we could have been captured. The presence of enemy hounds is particularly dangerous when hiding. If chased, unless one happens to be an aerial mage, escape could prove problematic.
"There's no way they would have picked this up with aerial recon."
"No. They were carrying out night recon flights, but something like this?"
"Exactly," I say, nodding painfully at First Lieutenant Grantz's words. Spy planes can only see so much at night. And if the enemy is on the lookout for scouts, the difficulty of spotting anything would increase dramatically. On the other hand, it would have been extremely difficult for an infantry squad to make it this far into enemy territory. And even if they discover what's going on, it would have been extremely difficult for the scouts to make it back out again with that information.
"It seems an early spring attack is almost entirely certain… There's a high chance, maybe, that this will be a major base for the attack."
Despite being in good health, I can feel a powerful headache coming on. Considering the imperial family's inspection, this definitely needs to be reported. We're damn lucky we found this, I think, relieved.
"We really were lucky, though, weren't we?" "Hmm? And why is that, Lieutenant Grantz?"
"Because the enemy gathered like this in an area we just happened to be scouting. We're lucky we noticed, I mean."
"Yes, it's good I brought you along. We really were quite… Wait."
Blessed with luck? I swallow hard. Something is wrong. Something has been off this whole time.
"Colonel, what is it?" First Lieutenant Grantz asks, sounding worried. But that feeling that something is wrong is growing so loud inside Tanya's head, she can barely hear him.
"Is this just a coincidence…?"
If so, we should celebrate. Hip, hip, hooray! If we simply happened to stumble on what the enemy is up to in this way, that would make me the luckiest person in the world.
But is it really luck?
We advanced into enemy territory in order to get a handle on their situation. It would be a massive stroke of luck to uncover something like this immediately. Would it really be so easy to discover the enemy's true
intentions among this whole vast eastern front? "Did enemies just happen to be here?"
Or what if it isn't a coincidence?
"What if…this is only a part?" I mutter, freezing in place.
What if this is no more than a part of the whole, and the enemy is gathering all throughout their back lines? As the thought occurs to me, I move my hand to my mouth, resisting the sudden urge to vomit.
Is it possible? Do we not have until spring? "I can't believe it…"
Cannot believe it nor refute it. "Could it be? Not in spring…?"
"Not in spring? Colonel, what are you talking about?"
Confused, the lieutenant stares at Tanya in worry, but the explanation eludes her.
"Look, Lieutenant. At the enemy shadows," I hiss in disgust, pointing toward the enemy convoy. "Do you see anything amiss?"
"I'm sorry, 'amiss'?"
"I'm asking if they look like a normal Federation unit!" I insist, doing an artful job of keeping my voice to a muffled whisper. She peers through her binoculars, focusing on the Federation troops.
Extremely well-equipped infantry. With no magic signature. Very different from the mechanized mage unit they spotted the other day. If this happens to be something special, that would be fine. But what if this is standard?
"We have to go back, Lieutenant…! Immediately, the moment the coast is clear!"
"Huh?"
"We need to carry out long-range reconnaissance with the entire mage battalion. I… I hate to say it, but…"
The situation could be very dire indeed.
Swallowing my words, I rush into slapdash flight with Grantz as soon as the Federation unit passes, moving at maximum combat speed and dragging the ground as tightly as possible.
Their caution is so thorough that they completely elude the friendly command's air picket, then are mistaken for enemies and nearly fired on as they approach by the infantry on guard under First Lieutenant Tospan's
command.
Despite the mix-up, Tanya heads straight toward the command center barn, as if even the time to scold them is too much to spare. She nearly kicks the door down as she hurries through.
Inside, she sees the exasperated face of Major Weiss, who was reaching for the shovel sitting next to him, ready to attack, having mistaken her for an intruder at first.
"Colonel, what in the hell?!"
"Major Weiss, I'm sorry, cancel all activities, effective immediately. We need to get the entire battalion ready for long-range reconnaissance…"
…right now, I'm about to say, barking orders at my second-in-command, but before I can finish—
"We've got an urgent report!" the officer on the comms shouts suddenly.
Both Tanya and Weiss turn to look before they can stop themselves. The communications officer usually doesn't sound so panicked.
Being glared at in this manner by the number one and number two in command of the Kampfgruppe would usually have caused the officer to freeze in mortification, but today is different. Their face pale, the officer waves their hands as if drowning.
"The Federation Army is on the move!"
"Calm down. What does the report say, exactly? Is it another large-scale mechanized mage unit like before? Or is there a fire somewhere on the front that they need help putting out? This is awful timing…but where is it? Go on, make your report," Major Weiss says soothingly. But the communications officer ignores him almost completely, their eyes turned desperately toward Tanya instead, their voice choked as they speak.
"They… They're everywhere." "What?"
"The… The Federation Army. In all of Theater A." With a heavy sigh, Tanya casts her eyes upward.
Above her is the ceiling of the barn's decrepit roof. And above that, she knows, is sprawling darkness. The hateful Federation winter sky, practically bursting with the malicious intent of Being X.
"It's… It's a full-scale offensive by the Federation Army. The enemy is advancing across all fronts in theater A!"
As the communications officer continues to speak, almost wailing,
Tanya mutters a quite complaint.
"General Zettour…this isn't what we discussed. This isn't what we discussed at all."
A large-scale attack. The enemy's full-scale counterattack. Now, while the Panzer Division is diverted to Ildoa. It is the worst possible timing.
Even as a red light begins to take up residence in my brain, I can't help but understand what is happening, whether I like it or not. This is clearly a strategic offensive—an exercise of military might for politically motivated goals.
And effectively, surprise overkill.
Right as I'm about to start giving orders, I suddenly feel the urge to throw up.
"Wha…?!"
The urge is sudden and overpowering; it doesn't make any sense.
"Is this nervous dysfunction…? The effects of the long flight and pushing myself too hard?"
But no, physically, I feel fine.
It can be surprisingly difficult to know what is going on inside your own body, but lately, compared with when I was working for those slave drivers General Romel and General Zettour, the physical impact has been much less pronounced.
Sleep, food. Comparatively, field conditions have been much more in line with regulation.
For some reason, though, my body is shaking now. As if I'm scared, but of what?
It doesn't matter; the enemy is coming. I need to get myself under control immediately.
"Major Weiss, prepare for immediate response. All members, assume battle positions! Call for Captain Meybert and First Lieutenant Tospan! And sound the alarm!"
Oh. I add one more thing.
"And tell Captain Ahrens in the rear that he is free to act at his own discretion! But authorization only! Safety in the rear is far from certain!"
After barking a flurry of orders, I rush into the room of the shabby house that has been allocated as my sleeping quarters, cradling my head and attempting to get my breathing under control.
A few moments is enough, but I want time to think. I breathe deeply, trying to grasp the situation as much as possible, sending oxygen to my brain until it begins to grow clear.
The attack, like a raging wave. The enemy's hidden base. Is it possible?
Could it be…?
"We were mistaken—mistaken about everything…?"
Even General Zettour completely missed the mark. Zettour assumed that even in the worst-case scenario, the Federation Army would attack in spring at the earliest.
But the current situation means a winter attack is beginning.
The enemy shouldn't have this much excess power; it betrays all expectations. As current developments show, we miscalculated royally. But what if it's even worse than it seems?
"They caught us with our pants completely around our ankles…!" I shout involuntarily, briefly summarizing the situation. "How could we be so mistaken?"
Of course, I think. This is the difference gut feeling makes. As an analyst, General Zettour is objective, wise, and to take it a step farther, a realist, which is about as far from an optimist as it is possible to get…but at the end of the day, analysis carried out in the capital is just inference based on reports from the front lines.
But what if there was a mistake on the front lines?
"Information based on mistaken assumptions, I suppose, can only lead to mistaken answers."
General Zettour drew mistaken conclusions from mistaken data, and due to my trust in General Zettour, I was far too slow to identify why it was that something on the ground felt so wrong.
Deception, camouflage, a dishonest surprise attack. This was all stock- in-trade for the Soviets. I should have known it would be the same for the Federation of this world. I've made a terrible mistake.
The Federation is cunning.
Even if General Zettour isn't present, his attention has been on the eastern army. Carefully controlling what information reaches him was no small task, but as unbelievable as it seems, that's what they did.
Mistaken information led to mistaken conclusions, and that poison ate away at the Empire's readiness, thus leading to today's surprise attack.
"In the end, even General Zettour is only human, it seems…"
If only they could all laugh about it. But laugh all they like, their problems aren't going to wait. Now we don't have a moment to spare. With each tick of the clock, the situation grows worse.
Most the Empire's strategic reserves have been sent to northern Ildoa. Nothing remains of the previous Great Army. Reinforcements can't be relied upon; there would be few coming, maybe none if they're unlucky.
The defensive line is unfinished. Is that our only recourse? A creeping fear, however, begins to build in Tanya's mind. The east is vast.
Far too vast.
There would be no multiline positions like those forged during the fearsome fighting on the Rhine front.
A flimsy line, at most, with slightly fortified stronghold positions.
Before scouting Federation movements, we repeatedly flew over our defensive line and checked out our own bases, so I know the state they are in: full of holes and woefully lacking in reserve troops. We are a far cry from creating the kind of elastic defense so bullheadedly crafted on the Rhine front.
On top of that, because we assumed a winter attack would not be coming, we already finished battening down for the winter.
If.
What if?
Attacking simultaneously and in depth, sustained advance, mechanized units, and full encirclement and annihilation.
The combination of these four things, one of the most fearsome models of war… What if that is what the Federation Army is attempting now?
"We have been preparing to defend against the sharp thrust of a rapier. If the enemy has prepared a massive guillotine instead…"
Then the Empire has been spending its time confidently implementing the wrong countermeasure. In other words, we are about to get completely sucker punched from a blind spot in our own assumptions.
Now then, the problem.
What if the situation is disrupted and the footing is made uncertain?
They are bringing out a guillotine. Once our neck is placed inside, there will be no escape. Off with their heads.
"Fuck… Fuck."
There is only one true counter to Soviet deep battle. And it is something Tanya is already familiar with.
And that is AirLand Battle.
But AirLand Battle2, of course, assumed the US would have air superiority in Europe, which had the edge in technology and aerial force despite inferior infantry numbers.
At the moment, the Empire has neither the air power to crush the enemy's reserve echelons, nor a mobile striking force of superior MBTs. Even our air control is doubtful in places. We have deteriorated to the point where even our ability to maintain disciplined mage combat is in question.
Most importantly, we have fatally misread the situation. Worst case, we'll barricade ourselves into our bases and die dreaming of a counterattack to free us from our siege. It is impossible to imagine this can mean anything but the end.
When field armies are on the brink of destruction, do they, too, dream of sweet counterattack?
"Ha-ha… Ha-ha-ha…"
-x-X-x-
JANUARY 13, UNIFIED YEAR 1928, FEDERATION CAPITAL MOSKVA
Loria had been working hard.
Ever so, ever so hard.
Almost everyone had opposed moving the spring attack up to winter as reckless, but Loria had exerted every last ounce of effort by virtue of national interest.
As it should be.
For the sake of Rising Dawn, he had been working honestly, correctly, and with integrity.
There was no hidden rhetorical meaning. He had poured himself purely, body and soul, into achieving Federation victory.
Of course, Loria was not a military man. The Rising Dawn offensive was being led by General Kutuz. For all practical purposes, Loria had been completely uninvolved in its planning. If one was to insist, they might say he provided intelligence networks or helped to facilitate coordination with the partisans. But that was all.
He may have been cheering the army on, but when it came to overthrowing the Empire, Loria was no more than a self-appointed supporting actor. But of course, the head of the secret police openly acknowledging the military as a lead actor, and not trying to get in their way, was itself a great support beyond anything the Federation Army could have hoped for.
After all, this was the secret police, choosing to both avoid getting in the way and actually support the army from the wings. If Tanya knew just how much support Loria had provided General Kutuz, she would have likely done a spit take.
After all, for those familiar with Federation power structures, this was an anomaly of antithetical proportions.
And thus, he watched and waited, waited and watched, until finally, at last, the long-awaited moment arrived. An applause, and a cheer.
"Rising Dawn! The night is over—the day begins!"
-x-X-x-
THE SAME DAY, IMPERIAL CAPITAL
The atmosphere in the capital was of lingering holiday…of a new year now beginning.
The time when the biggest schism in enthusiasm could be felt.
This could be felt particularly strongly in the General Staff Office. After all, as the daily work began to grow overwhelming, it was around that time those working in the office found that, at some point, their good holiday spirits had abandoned them.
Among these military men, the duties of the senior adjutant attached to General Zettour, who was popularly known as the Deputy Director of the
Service Corps, were of nearly unprecedented scope. It had been some time since it would have been rare to see this colonel-level officer running to and fro with his plate always full.
But there were upsides as well.
For instance, if you were to see even Colonel Uger rush from the communications room and into General Zettour's office with bad news in his hand—if you were the adjutant, you might simply think, This again?
As if in some kind of nightmare, Colonel Uger attempted to get his face, which was nearly convulsing, under control—praying that what he couldn't get under control, he could conceal—before rushing into the general's office, cursing that it was he who had to be the bearer of such bad news.
"General, it's an emergency!"
"Colonel Uger? What is it?" General Zettour asked, calm and in control.
In response, Colonel Uger thrust out the message, which he had nearly crumpled up in his shaking hand.
"An alert from the eastern army. Here." "Thank you."
As General Zettour took the message, his well-arranged brow arched slightly.
Now then, let's see.
This was how General Staff officers endeavored to behave back in the good old days. With thank-yous and smiles, a quick turn of the back to conceal their emotions. With an air of reliability.
Even at a time such as this, an officer could still spare a mind to the art of maintaining a modicum of face.
So then…
…why? Good Lord, why?
What was this that Colonel Uger was now witnessing? He failed to pretend not to see.
A crack in the spine. The powerless back of an old man, bent down by the harsh despair of reality, without words, cradling only nightmares.
Later, Uger would understand.
He was seeing an old man nearly crushed by a Rising Dawn. As history's witness, Uger saw it all.
In that moment, General Zettour was wrestling with demons. His own mistakes. His misreading of the situation.
In that single instant, his wise mind comprehended every last one of his failures.
He had already seen their fall, but he thought that he had postponed it. Had mistakenly believed that they were okay for now. That the Federation hadn't recovered its forces yet… It was why he had drummed up what pawns he could from the east in order to send them into Ildoa.
They should have had time. Half a year. Four months at the least. There was still time. A little grace before they died. The thread was fine, yes, but it was still a thread that could be crossed. Even a spider's thread could be clutched.
"How? I don't understand…"
1 MIA: Missing In Action, i.e. when one goes missing during combat. In general, when one goes missing, they can often be assumed dead. In stories, this often sets the flag for a later return, but in reality, this is rarely the case. Reality is harsh.
2 AirLand Battle: A doctrine cooked up by a portion of the US military back when the Soviet Army was still alive and kicking. While a nonstop charge from the enemy could have proved dangerous, the thinking was that through clever coordination between land and air forces and maneuver tactics, by dividing the enemy while also thoroughly hitting the enemy's reserve forces, inferior numbers would not matter.
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