JANUARY 2, UNIFIED YEAR 1928, EVENING, IMPERIAL CAPITAL
After leaving the General Staff Office and returning to her own dormitory, Tanya quickly takes command back from her second-in-command, who was left in charge in her absence.
The beginning of the year is always a busy time, and the tasks have already piled up while we were in Ildoa, so the soldiers are busy. Even contriving as best we can, we can only manage alternating holidays for the core combat unit officers. Of course, a majority of the miscellaneous work has been taken care of, so people are mostly engaged in small talk, waiting for their relief.
"Let's see…the latest models of tanks, assault guns, tank destroyers, and just for good measure, the newest model of computation orbs."
As I inspect the list of new equipment included in the document received from Major Weiss, I emit a heavy sigh despite my subordinate's presence.
"They must think they can turn the tide with new weapons…"
Understandable or not, this feeling of hopelessness is difficult to shake.
When playing catchup, new weapons seem like an easy remedy. But a solid foundation is required for effective implementation of such weapons, meaning these remedies only apply when one already has the strategic footing for the likes of new weapons to be sufficient.
Nuclear weapons may be powerful, but the entire world cannot be subjugated with a single atomic blast. The world only fears nuclear attacks when the military strength to effectively exploit them exists.
"Colonel?"
"Have you seen this, Weiss? All garbage." "The specs seem pretty impressive to me."
"The specs?" I answer bluntly, exasperated at Weiss's typical reply. "The new tanks have all the suspension of a thoroughbred, and the Jagdpanzers are as large as an elephant. The only interesting thing among the lot is the assault guns…and even those will only be useful against pillboxes. Do you
think we'll be attacking any enemy pillboxes soon?"
To put it in other terms, the mechanical reliability of the new tanks is catastrophically dubious. And reliability aside, the new Jagdpanzers are far too heavy. The one piece of equipment that catches my eye is the new- model assault guns, which would give us some respectable firepower on the front lines…but considering the type of battles we'll most likely be fighting, they are, practically speaking, a ridiculous waste of money.
They've got the funds to create new weapons. If only they had the brains to create reliable ones.
"As for the orbs…"
"I didn't think they were that bad."
"Junk doesn't even begin to cover it," I declare. "Development of next- generation orbs is going poorly, but the rest of the army doesn't have the skill to use Type 95s. In which case, the idea of using a high-low mix of Type 105 Defense Computation Orbs and Type 97 Assault Computation Orbs makes sense… But this?"
I shake my head in disgust.
"The issue is the 105s are no good."
"I don't know, Colonel. Having picked one up, the performance kind of reminded me of the ones we used for advanced training."
"As they should, Major. The 105s are based on the orbs we used for prewar training. Since they were just meant for drills, the defensive shells were the one thing they had going for them."
To put it bluntly, they're sending sparring equipment into the field. Trying to force armaments into a practice tool will just leave it bulky and heavy and wind up interfering with mobility.
"If they had aimed for an easy-to-use skirmish unit, that would have been something, but by focusing too much on defense, they've sacrificed speed, maneuverability, altitude, and even flexibility in deployment options."
"It sounds like we would have been better just copying the orbs we captured from the Federation."
"I thought the same thing. I've even heard that opinion from someone else's lips. They're durable and boast exceptional firepower. Isn't that enough?"
"And what did the higher-ups say about that?"
"Apparently, they can't make them."
"Huh? Sorry, but I didn't think Federation orbs were that advanced…?" "No, not advanced," I say, waving my hand. "The bottleneck is raw
materials. Currently, even supplies for Type 97 production are shakier than we would like. The engineers at Elinium Arms can be flaky, but from what I could tell, getting the materials to create robust Federation-style orbs is not possible in the Empire right now."
"Incredible…," Major Weiss says, speechless. A very understandable response.
"Up until now, whether with the Type 95 or Type 97, our side has been obsessed with capabilities. It's nice to see them finally paying some attention to manufacturability, but they could have started before our pockets were already empty."
Cost cuts are always good, especially when it comes to unnecessary expenses. But cutting the fat because you've gone on a diet and wasting away because you're starving are two different things.
"I wouldn't want to use the Type 105 in actual combat. Not even for our unit."
"Even our unit? Is it that bad…?"
"Major Weiss, imagine you encounter a company's worth of Federation mages while equipped with the 105. Do you think we'd be able to take them head-on with the same number of troops? Without the mobility or even firepower of a mass-produced general-purpose orb, and when your defensive shell will be able to resist maybe one shot, if you're lucky?"
Major Weiss folds his arms and thinks before coming to the same conclusion.
"Even a battalion like ours might only just barely be able to handle them with superior coordination…"
"I'm almost tempted to submit a formal opinion. I'll tell them to issue a 105 battalion live rounds and give me blanks. Then they can watch me still kill them all on my own. By the way, it should go without saying, but Type 95s are off the table. Type 97s will just have to do. At least they can manage decent speed and altitude…"
Numbers are important, but without a minimum threshold of quality, is it even worth counting them? It is a tough reality to face, but there is no point burying our heads in the sand.
"What if we went back to the starting point with mages?" "The starting point?"
Interest piqued, I wait for Weiss to say more.
"What about ground infantry mages? We learned it back in my department at the academy, but…mages were originally conceived of as ground infantry."
"I didn't know you were a fan of ancient history," I say, rolling my eyes but nodding as well. "Though, maybe that is the final destination we're already bound for."
Instead of taking mages who could barely fly and turning them into glorified target practice, what if we have them crawl along the ground instead? In theory, they could dig in like ticks and become major obstacles.
Wait. With the current state of military technology…
"Hold on, Major. What about their mana signatures? As infantry, they might be slightly more durable, but given current technology, they would be very easy to detect."
"Ah, I forgot about that. I guess they wouldn't be very practical as things stand now."
"As infantry, they'd obviously be even lower altitude than low-flying troops. They probably wouldn't set off sensors until fairly close, but still…"
In light of the Type 105's performance limitations, Weiss agrees as well. "As long as we're sticking to orbs, I guess a Type 105 magical barricade
is out of the question."
"Why do they need to be mages in the first place? Might as well just stick with ordinary infantry."
Despite these being my own words, I only understand them as they leave my mouth. This is like the naval abandonment of surface-combat ships. When naval forces choose to focus all their strength on tactical nuclear submarines, it couldn't even truly be called a matter of selection and concentration. Surface ships are abandoned as a matter of natural selection. The fact that there is no other path is self-evident. In reality, it's the only way.
Freaked out by the implications, I quickly try to brush that idea under the rug.
"Forgive me, Major. Don't mind my grumbling."
"Well, it was a natural reaction to seeing the kind of new equipment
they're sending, I guess…"
"Although, when it comes to drill orbs for new recruits, I can appreciate the impulse to max out their defense capabilities. Too bad we can't have a compromise between the 97s and the 105s. Something easy to use but with excellent survivability."
I suddenly realize my second-in-command is staring at me with a strange sort of determination on his face.
"What is it, Major?"
Some sort of criticism? But no, my fears prove to be mistaken.
"If it isn't too much trouble, with your assistance, Colonel, I would like to submit an opinion of my own to the Elinium Arms Factory."
Say what? But why? Before I can stop myself, a look of confusion plasters itself across my face.
"Is that necessary?" I ask in response. "I mean, if it is, I don't mind, but can't you submit a report without going through me? I'm not interested in controlling each and every idea of the people under my command. Really, I thought you would have already known this."
"It's more about feeling things out on our end…"
Of course. I understand Major Weiss's intentions now. He wants to toss out an idea that he hasn't fully worked out himself yet. Proposing ideas like that can be difficult.
Even when it comes to the most brilliant and inspiring ideas, sometimes, there is still too much chaff mixed in with the wheat. It is rare for such ideas to be welcomed by the specialists working in research and development. Weiss is likely hoping to bank on my connections to avoid being turned away at the gate.
"I don't mind, but I'll need to hear the idea myself before passing it along. But if I hear and recommend it, it may come off slightly as something I am putting forward. It is your idea, Major. If you really think it is a good one, you should go through the proper channels."
"If possible, I would rather borrow your name and knowledge, Colonel. My idea was, what if we equip everyone who has at least some drop of magical aptitude with a simplified version of the Type 105s…? What do you think? So the magical signature could work instead as…well, a decoy."
"You mean, to overload the detection net!" Weiss seems pleased with himself.
"Exactly. If we could create momentary confusion—in a way that is similar but different to the way signatures become temporarily difficult to detect during spatial explosion formulas—more elite units equipped with Type 97s could use the opportunity to launch a surprise attack."
A diversion, and a surprise. A standard approach, but still. I lift my head. "That's a very interesting idea! But the mana signatures in question are too different. It would probably work at first, but after repeated attempts,
won't they notice the difference?"
"You think they'd just detect it anyway?"
"No, it's worth giving it a try. Let's test it out right now." "Now? But it's already evening."
"So? Let's call it practical training for low-visibility conditions. Come on, let's get started."
While her second-in-command is still standing around with a look of bewilderment on his face, Tanya jumps into action. Got to strike while the iron is hot!
"It wouldn't be very kind to cancel the whole squad's leave, but a lot of us are free already with the New Year. We'll gather any officers on standby. Major, I'll leave that up to you."
"Wh…what will you do, Lieutenant Colonel?"
"Me? I'll approach Colonel Uger and arrange for the necessary number of Type 105s and infantry. Wait. It would probably be faster to just rope in those already training on the 105s."
Rather than combing through infantry for those with magical aptitude and forming an experimental squad, it would surely be faster to utilize what we have on hand. After all, 105-equipped greenhorns are in the capital right now.
Although, considering the season, those greenhorns are probably on leave at the moment as well…but this is no time for coddling! I've made up my mind. Time to kick some dirt on their little holiday.
"It's early in the new year, so they'll probably hate me for it…but time is money! Such is life!"
Obviously, I don't want to do it. It isn't by choice. After all, Tanya is supposed to be a cultured citizen. A person of civilization, committed to fully respecting the rights of others. But when necessity calls, Tanya is unshakable. Free pass in hand from the General Staff, Tanya sounds the
trumpet on the capital. Early in the year or not.
It's January 2, meaning the three-day holiday period isn't even over yet. A sudden call to duty, in the evening, at a time like this, is certainly a lot to ask, but the army is a demanding mistress. The veteran mages, well used to this kind of treatment, soon arrive, their faces showing resignation—along with trainees, who seem out of sorts at being pulled from their leave, with open confusion on their faces.
From there, a mage platoon formed from officers in charge of training, and a battalion-sized sample group formed from untrained candidates, is cobbled together and plopped onto the muddy New Year's training grounds. The results of the demonstration test, carried out by the similarly scraped- together volunteer officers from the Salamander Kampfgruppe's 203rd Aerial Mage Battalion, prove to be decisive.
First Lieutenant Wüstemann, while somewhat perplexed, shares his own confused impression of events.
"In terms of scale, I thought it was two companies of mages at first…but the distribution of signatures was strange. Based on experience, I thought maybe there was just some camouflage or diversion happening."
First Lieutenant Grantz, meanwhile, is completely stunned. He explains that he detected the appropriate scale and was more focused on morale.
"In terms of scale, I thought it was a battalion. But not one that was particularly fearsome."
Spoken like a true veteran.
Questioned last, First Lieutenant Serebryakov gives a response that's the most interesting. She seems to have taken several notes while suspended in the air. After some hesitation, she begins speaking carefully.
"Hmm. I'm not really sure if they're there or not." "You're not sure?"
"Numbers-wise, it seemed like there's less than a platoon, maybe a squad. These are worrying. But the others might actually be mages as well. Or maybe they're not. It's weird that it's hard to tell."
Well, well. This is an eye-opening response for Tanya and Weiss. But taken together, the result is clear.
"Even the officers in our own battalion are unsure at first, it seems. This is excellent, Major Weiss. The idea alone deserves a medal."
I smack Weiss on the lower back with a look of satisfaction on my face.
"Is it really that good?"
"Handled right, this could be another clever trick up General Zettour's sleeve. Expect a bonus in the near future! You'll need to write a report and send it up the chain, though! Everyone else, dismissed. Get back to work!"
What a find, I think with a laugh, but a more sober part of me sneers at it as simply more desperate tactical chicken scratch on our part. Yes, Major Weiss has done well. And Tanya arranged it all properly. Just as is expected of those of us on the ground. But can workers in the field be expected to solve all of an organization's problems? Obviously not.
If something that ridiculous were possible, management would just be deadweight. The reality is that when management fails to solve a problem, more often than not, everyone else sinks with them.
It should be obvious, but the people working on-site can't cover for mistakes made at the strategic level forever. As nice as the phrase grassroots innovation sounds, the correct approach is to always keep numbers up and exercise one's military power from a position of decisively superior strength.
Back on the Rhine front, I still believed reports such could change things. When we had a Dunkirk pulled on us, I could feel victory slip through our fingers. But during Operation Iron Hammer, in that moment, I clung to possibility once again.
I have long since passed my limit.
What of the campaign in Ildoa? And now we're going to be dispatched to the east again so soon. What have I really accomplished?
Maybe it's time to change jobs. Diligence and toil do not a promising career path make. It's more than just a matter of declining industries. What a massive opportunity cost.
Hmm? With a sigh, I finally realize that my subordinates are still there. "Umm, Colonel…?"
"What is it, First Lieutenant Grantz?"
Is there something else? The first lieutenant's expression seems reluctant but also resigned. With a look of courage, he begins to speak.
"We just had our leaves canceled. Do we really have to start on the report now and prepare all the documents to submit to the General Staff?"
"Of course," I say, nodding mercilessly. "Major Weiss has done us the service of coming up with this marvelous idea, and so early in the year.
Unfortunately, there is little time left before our redeployment to the east. It's now or never."
"But…what about our half leave for New Year's?"
My underlings look as if they are about to cry. Oh, their poor leave! They were probably expecting to get at least a little rest until the third…but these are officers!
Resting when one gets the chance is part of an officer's job, true, but when it comes to the accursed scourge of deadlines, there is no stopping the inexorable hands of the clock.
"Hmph, rest when you're finished. We start our march back to the east on the evening of the third. As long as you're back by departure time, you may even leave the capital if you like."
Behold, the glory that is discretionary labor! Beautiful words to an employer's ears. Although, someone in middle management like Tanya has their own complaints on that front. There is no end to the amount of work placed in her lap by wicked slave drivers such as General Zettour.
Still, the system must be fair to all.
Is it really fair to not only cancel their leave, but also give them even more work on top of that? After some thought, I come to the conclusion that officers in the military are public servants. And is it not common knowledge that labor laws do not apply to public servants?
"Fulfill your duties as an officer, First Lieutenant Grantz. After that, you may do as you wish."
"But we'll never finish this! Not before departure…!"
The young first lieutenant cradles his head. However, as he notices the subordinate standing next to him softly remove a sheet of paper from her pad, his face jerks in realization.
"First Lieutenant Serebryakov! What if we use the notes you took earlier during the proof-of-concept test in place of a report?"
"Hmm? Let me see."
I glance over the outstretched page. It is well written, documenting the conditions leading up to the start of pinging, first impressions of the signatures detected, the misgivings of the officers upon further scrutiny, and even changes in their awareness over time. I noticed her taking little notes during aerial reconnaissance, but I had no idea they were this detailed. The notes can be submitted as is.
"Full and to the point, Visha. Excellent work."
First Lieutenant Grantz stands by, open-mouthed, as Tanya passes the piece of paper over as if urging him to read it.
"See here, Lieutenant? This is how it should be done. The military is also a bureaucratic organization. Documents should be well organized, tactful, and preferably simple."
Major Weiss nods, moved by Tanya's words. "Impressive as always, Serebryakov."
I nod in agreement before glancing toward my second-in-command.
"Now then, as the original proposer, you will need to write up the results and the pitch. Once they're ready, submit them to my desk."
"Huh?"
Major Weiss stares blankly but soon recovers. "Co…Colonel?"
"I am recommending it, after all. To put it plainly, I am involved now. I even contributed toward arranging the experiment. Which is to say, I can no longer guarantee objectivity. I might at least provide a critique, but the report is the privilege of the person who came up with the idea."
Both the glory and the work belong to the inventor. I believe this is a fair approach.
"I have no intention of stealing my subordinates' thunder, not even unintentionally."
"Maybe if you could provide me with a little guidance…"
Major Weiss doesn't want to do everything himself. It's written all over his face. Unfortunately for Major Weiss, I simply shake my head.
"My business hours are officially over. I'll be taking a short break, but don't worry, that won't stop the document from getting passed along for approval. I'm staying in the capital, so I'll check my desk before going to bed and again tomorrow morning."
"B-but…"
"You know what they say about the cat being away. So long as the commander of the Kampfgruppe is at her post, it will be hard for the other soldiers to rest. As commanding officer, I figure if I slack off a little, it will give everyone else the chance to take a break as well."
It is half expedience, half how I truly feel. A good manager lets those under them rest. It is one of the fundamentals of managing people, as is
trusting and delegating to other managers beneath you.
"Major Weiss, I believe in your ingenuity. Now, if you'll excuse me." "Colonel, may I come with you?"
"As you like, Visha."
Yes, as a good boss, why not treat her subordinate to some coffee? It is the least she can do.
"We'll be going back to the eastern front soon. We'd best fill out stomachs in the capital while we can. How about it, Visha? Some coffee?"
"Don't mind if I do!"