Youjo Senki - Volume 9 - Chapter 3

[chapter] III Necessity Is the Mother of Invention

JULY 3, UNIFIED YEAR 1927, THE IMPERIAL CAPITAL

A stress management technique that lightens mental burdens by giving the brain adequate stimulation and rest. A practice assigned to people tasked in strenuous negotiations and even proactively recommended by the army. An advanced skill sometimes employed as an emergency measure in enclosed environments such as submarines in order to control the amount of carbon dioxide in the air.

We call it sleep.

Or in this case, it’s more accurately described as sulking in bed. The state of the imperial capital that Lieutenant Colonel Tanya von Degurechaff glimpsed yesterday is terribly unpleasant. After making her observations, she has chosen to secure some sleep in order to rest her mind.

When it comes to mental health, sleep is irreplaceable. After all, it’s a chance to stop your brain from torturing itself with problems that can’t be solved by thinking alone.

Thankfully, on leave in the capital, it’s not difficult to get into a regular rhythm. And it’s possible to savor a full eight hours of sleep. Or, at least, it should have been. After crawling into bed utterly exhausted to indulge in idle slumber, being dragged out of that bliss is the absolute worst thing that can possibly happen.

Not only that, but it’s the duty officer, First Lieutenant Serebryakov, who’s shown up in the middle of the night, and when she sleepily puts the receiver to Tanya’s ear, it’s none other than the General Staff Office ordering her to report in as soon as possible. The General Staff Office calling her…at this late hour, with this timing.

Even in this world with no cell phones, the summonses come mercilessly via landlines just as if they were your manager at work.

One word from her superiors and Tanya leaps out of bed, changes into her uniform, dashes into a car, and thinks as fast as she can while Serebryakov drives.

Perhaps due to low blood sugar, my thoughts are scattered and disjointed. But if the army is summoning Tanya this late at night while she’s on leave, there must be a reason. It’s now that I finally realize my throat is parched to the point of irritation.

If only I had a canteen… On the eastern front, I would’ve definitely had water. Apparently, being in the rear has made me soft.

Security is the greatest enemy, I suppose.

I need to get it together.

As those thoughts race through my mind, I’m mildly impressed by Serebryakov’s ability to drive without issue through the city under a strict blackout order, her foot on the gas the whole way. We arrive in no time.

The night duty team must have been notified in advance.

Entrance procedures go smoothly, and Tanya is immediately hustled to the heart of the General Staff Office.

From what I can see along the way, the General Staff Office really does never sleep, just as the rumors say. But even so, it’s a bit too busy. Even energy drink–powered corporate drones who work round the clock must get tired at some point.

The staff officers push aside their fatigue, but it shows in their faces. Or rather, their faces are locked into stiff Noh mask expressions, but their frustration oozes out in their behavior.

This can’t be good. What’s going on?

Unable to find an immediate explanation, I stay on high alert as we reach the office belonging to the source of this summons, Lieutenant General Rudersdorf.

“Lieutenant Colonel Degurechaff, reporting for duty, sir.”

“…Thanks for coming, Colonel.”

The displeased look on the general’s face makes it easy to guess what the situation is. If nothing else, I’m certain it’s bad news. The only question is what kind.

Luckily, the answer to that question is delivered without delay.

Without any forewarning, the general says, “Ildoa will only accommodate us under the condition that we disarm.”

His words are abrupt, but even Tanya with her slightly dulled sleepy head can grasp the issue in Rudersdorf’s disgusted comment.

An ally requesting an ally to disarm?

“That’s not a very funny joke to hear in the middle of the night.”

Rudersdorf nods as if to say, Exactly, but he doesn’t bother answering with a joke of his own. From the way he reaches for a cigar in irritation, she can see that this really has his hackles up.

“It’s about the plan to pull our troops out of the southern continent. We’ve been considering it for some time now. We’ve been negotiating with Ildoa to withdraw through their colonies and were making some progress on that front, but—”

“Apologies for interrupting, but have there been any changes to the situation?”

“Yes. They’ve changed radically.”

That’s the worst possible news we could get.

From the look on Rudersdorf’s face and his tone of voice, he must have been planning to route the Southern Continent Expeditionary Corps home through Ildoa. While simultaneously emphasizing the imperial-Ildoa alliance to the other powers, they would pull their troops out of the southern continent. That was the gist of the deal currently being negotiated.

If that has fallen through, then it makes sense that the staff officers would forget their exhaustion in the blink of an eye. As if we didn’t have enough headaches already! If the delicate situation with Ildoa explodes, they’ll have to call up all the deceased staffers, too—no time for eternal rest when the situation is this dire.

“So the diplomatic message is that imperial troops are being refused entry to Ildoan territory?”

“That’s right. They’re claiming they’ll take them prisoner. Officially, we’re allies, right? Aren’t we? I’m pretty sure we’re allies.” His tone is filled with sarcasm as he makes a show of questioning his memory. “Why would an allied country take our troops prisoner? Isn’t that absurd, Colonel?”

Nodding silently, Tanya sympathizes with Rudersdorf’s indignation. Given Ildoa’s closeness to the Empire, this is an overreaction.

An outburst was completely justified.

Ildoa’s actions could only be categorized as hostile. Rudersdorf raises a fist and slams it down onto his desk, barking in anger. “Honestly…this is ludicrous!”

One glimpse of the red smear on his fist would be enough for anyone to instantly understand how furious the general is.

“Truly, sir—it’s truly unbelievable.”

I suppose we have to consider all the options, including a military clash or even full-scale war against Ildoa. I don’t think he would get so mad he would risk something as foolish as opening another front, but…the situation is rapidly entering the danger zone.

Rudersdorf’s summoned me, the commander of a combat unit, in the middle of the night.

I want to say it can’t be for what I think it is, and yet I can’t dismiss the possibility. Like the reconnaissance orders we once received regarding the Federation. Will he cancel my leave and send us over the border to Ildoa?

Tanya breaks out in an uncomfortable sweat as those thoughts turn instinctively to her fate.

What is it going to be?

What will the order from on high be this time? As tension grips her body, Tanya swallows hard and focuses on her superior so as not to miss a single word or gesture.

It’s hard to even breathe. What’s going to happen next?

“We’re going to have to give some thought to the Ildoa problem later.”

Even after thinking over his words, Tanya freezes up. The context is so difficult to comprehend.

“Huh?”

It’s pitiful even if I say so myself, but what slips out of Tanya’s mouth is a pure vocalization of that confusion.

What did General von Rudersdorf just say?

“What is it, Colonel?”

“I, ummm…” Tanya shakes her head as she squeezes the words out. “I was convinced you had summoned me for an operation against Ildoa. I thought it would be a special attack order. In fact, I was nearly certain that you’d give orders to drop in for an immediate assault.”

I had braced myself to go already.

I had even envisioned the worst possible future of being crammed into a V-1. I went so far as to imagine Schugel the fanatic popping out from behind the door at that very moment.

Because in the Empire we have the bad habit of carrying out the impossible the moment anyone says the word necessity.

“I’m not giving any outrageous orders to the Lergen Kampfgruppe during its rebuilding and reorganization period. Even I, though perhaps not to the extent that General Zettour does, realize there are limits.”

“I’m very sorry to have assumed.”

“Oh, if that’s as bad as my reputation is, it’s no problem. You’re not completely off the mark anyhow.”

“Sir?”

I had only just started to relax when alarms started going off again in the back of my head. I can’t get a good read on the situation, but I can only assume that he’s planning to have me do something extremely unpleasant.

“I’m not asking anything outrageous of the Lergen Kampfgruppe. Unfortunately, under the circumstances, their condition isn’t likely to change. But I heard that the core mage unit is in fine shape.”

It only takes a moment for resignation to seep into Tanya.

More than anything else, a Kampfgruppe is highly flexible. The different components are organically bound into a cohesive unit but can be attached or detached as necessary, resulting in a level of adaptability you can’t get with a normal formation.

That’s a benefit that Tanya herself emphasized when pushing for the Kampfgruppe concept.

Each arm of the Kampfgruppe retains a degree of autonomous combat ability. If requested to take part in an operation as a detachment, Tanya has no real basis to refuse, and in any case, opposing the General Staff Office would basically be suicide.

She’ll take the order obediently and devote herself to carrying it out.

“…I see why you called me here.”

“Great, that’ll make this quick. Colonel, I’m going to have you…do a bit of a backbend for me.”

Of course you are! I mean, you’re always asking me to do the impossible. Could you spare a thought for how we feel in the field? Of course, those candid remarks and complaints never make it to Tanya’s mouth.

That kind of back talk doesn’t improve Tanya’s situation and would only harm her energy and social standing. Not that bottling it up is good for mental health, but…

Damn it all to hell. I want a new job. Seriously.

I want a contact in the Unified States. I need to look for a way to get in touch with someone.

“I need you to rescue the Southern Continent Expeditionary Corps. The idea is very simple. We’re going to persuade the Commonwealth’s naval fleet to withdraw from the Inner Sea. We’re calling it Operation Bárbaroi. I look forward to your success.”

“Yes, sir! I’ll do my best!”

Tanya’s reply is crisp and clear. Like it should be at work. With the practiced motions she learned in training, she responds to her orders with a sharp salute.

In other words, she does her job.

It’s exactly like retail workers who smile and say, It’s my pleasure! regardless of how they actually feel. Similarly, Tanya doesn’t make all that much or get any special treatment. This has got to be a violation of labor standards somewhere.

THE SAME DAY, THE COMMONWEALTH, LONDINIUM, A MEETING ROOM IN WHITE HALL

“Next topic, then. On the southern continent, the Imperial Army is beginning to show signs that it’s planning to pull out.”

The report from the Intelligence agent was a new development. To be more specific, it was the type of report one didn’t hear very often. To those at the meeting, this was the first piece of good news in quite a while.

Someone nodded in satisfaction as if to say, Finally!

“That took long enough. I couldn’t stand those damn vermin.”

“They’re giving the broken record from the Free Republic a run for its money.”

The gentlemen in attendance were all key Commonwealth planners. At the same time, they were human. When favorable news arrives, even the tensest of groups tend to relax a little.

“The imperials and Republicans both make my head hurt.”

The grievances these gentlemen uttered were filled with resentment on the order of We’ve suffered so much! Each enjoying a cigar or tea as he pleased, they may have been putting on airs, but they were also expressing heartfelt relief.

“The Empire’s our true enemy, sure, but those Free Republic guys—or whatever they call themselves—they shove all the combat onto us and then think they can come back and claim victory when it’s all over.”

“Between the Republic and the Federation, we really are blessed with amazing friends.”

“We have the colonists, too, don’t we? They’re great friends.”

A light conversation full of jests coated in biting sarcasm. This was a masterful example of the John Bull way of saying the opposite of what one thinks. What might’ve appeared to be a counterpoint was really just joining in on the same complaint.

“Those traitors sometimes called colonists are never willing to shed any blood. And they’re the best friend we civilized servants of His Majesty the King can claim? How far our great nation has fallen.”

His words were harsh, but it was how many in the Commonwealth really felt. The Unified States were a great bunch of colonials. They clearly followed one of the beloved traditions of the Commonwealth—achieving their goals without spilling a drop of their own blood.

It was fine and dandy that they were supporting the war effort.

But the fact that the Unified States claimed neutrality and then tried to take all the juiciest bits for themselves was on par with how the Federation and Free Republic behaved.

They could try to pretend otherwise, but their intentions were obvious.

The prime minister scowled around the table and said, “It’s vexing, but we can’t just sit here feeling sorry for ourselves. Let’s get to work, gentlemen.”

At the prime minister’s urging to get on with it, the army liaison refocused and began outlining the contents of the intelligence report.

“The Imperial Army appears to be moving with the intent to pull out. Their Southern Continent Expeditionary Corps has virtually ceased operations already.”

The prime minister nodded that that was good. That said, he couldn’t accept it unconditionally. He shook his head lightly and inquired about his fear. “That’s great if true, but saying they only appear to be moving with the intent to pull out means you can’t say for sure?”

“Our recon-in-force operation was repelled, so we can’t be certain. But they don’t show any signs of preparing for an offensive.”

“Wait a moment,” said the prime minister, waving his hands before voicing his doubt. “These fellows are clever. Couldn’t they simply be secretly gathering their forces for their next attack?”

“No, Prime Minister. According to our informant at the port, the heavy equipment is stockpiled, but every indication points to them preparing to send it to the rear. We’ve confirmed that some of their armored forces have already been sent back.”

They would never send tanks back to the home country before an invasion. That was a clear signal. It could even be considered definitive. “Good.” The prime minister accepted the army’s view.

Thus, they arrived at one consensus. After a lot of drama, their headache over the situation on the southern continent would soon be in the past.

The tide was turning in the Commonwealth’s favor.

“General Romel was outstanding as a tactician.”

“He’s a fine man. But he can’t hack it when it comes to strategy. In the end, he’s just a lieutenant general.”

It was because they felt assured of their superior position that they could praise him backhandedly with a snicker.

Their remarks akin to boasting about the health of their prey merged with their fondness of foxhunting to create the atmosphere of a salon party.

An enemy commander, no matter how outstanding, would always be the target of criticism and ridicule for these men. Of course, their sneers were just as often directed at one another.

“The army seems to have had its hands full with him, though.” The stinging comment was launched at a man in uniform by a man in a suit.

“It sure dragged on. He must have been outstanding…because if he weren’t, how could we put up with this situation?”

As the civilians silently judged the army’s apparent failure, a man wearing a proper general’s rank stood to defend them. “I’m sure our enemy’s excellence will be noted in the history books. General Romel fought a magnificent maneuver battle. And we can leave a great many lessons to history. This has been a great example of showing courage in the face of a lion despite whatever restraints politicians may have placed on the armed forces.” The soldier continued in a fed-up tone. “During a phase that should have been handled with strategy, we were forced to contend with a brilliant tactician on a purely tactical level. Elite military men don’t like dancing on the stage their enemy sets. I think it’ll be a great historical lesson in military-civil relations.”

The politicians looked miffed, but the members of the army thought the snark was justified.

If the home country refused to keep pace with the Free Republic and didn’t provide enough troops but then turned around to criticize the military’s “defeat,” who wouldn’t frown?

The staring contest between the civilians and the military officers came down to the fact that they were John Bulls who shared a language of sarcasm and snark at their roots.

There was nothing fun about studying one another’s faces. At least, the majority of them felt there were better ways to spend their time.

For example, figuring out how to best foil the hated imperials.

“Then shall we perform one of our specialties for this outstanding imperial officer?”

“He’s scored a lot of points. We need to make a big comeback to clinch this game.”

Everyone nodded in agreement. Continuing to lose would only endanger a gentleman’s reputation.

“Our turn isn’t over yet. Trying to abandon the game halfway to sneak away with a win is outrageous. We can’t allow it.”

The smart comment caused several of the men to chuckle to themselves with a grin.

All’s fair in love and war. The enemies so dear to them that they wanted to murder them were running away with their tails between their legs. There was no reason to let them make a triumphant return to their home country.

On the contrary, the Commonwealth should throw them a party to see them off.

“So what, then? Are they retreating through Ildoa?”

“No, our ambassador has done a fine job. Ildoa has promised to stay staunchly neutral.”

“Oh-ho.” They unconsciously began to smile more broadly.

Without Ildoa as a shield and mediator, the Empire had little hope of securing safe passage out on the Inner Sea. Those were Commonwealth waters.

That was a clear win for the Foreign Office.

As long as the Royal Navy had command of the water, the Commonwealth, ruler of the oceans, would never allow a leisurely imperial withdrawal.

“That means the Empire has the choice to surrender to us or Ildoa. Well, I’m sure they’ll opt to flee into the Ildoan colonies.”

That amused comment clearly indicated that there wasn’t much of a future in that direction. If he had a bit more imagination, he would have been able to grasp the fact that Ildoans were also currently burdened by the imperial troops. The Ildoans, flitting like a bat between two sides, probably didn’t want to deal with the Imperial Army, whether in its colonies or at home. It was fine for the Commonwealth and the Empire to snap at each other, but Ildoa didn’t want to personally get involved. The calculations of a neutral country were based purely on reason and logic.

Compared to the Federation or the Empire, who were impossible to read, the Commonwealth felt almost friendly toward the opportunistic Ildoa. That is, it was similar to how they felt about the colonists.

Knowing what is on someone’s mind is a very good thing.

“Wonderful! So their fate is sealed. If possible, I’d like them to be our guests instead of Ildoa’s.”

The mood in the room turned into one of eager anticipation of an imminent triumph.

But pessimism and sarcasm were a core part of these men’s characters. For better or worse, they readily conjured up visions of worst-case scenarios.

“But what if they take a third route?”

“Which would be?”

“If they forcibly withdrew. Imperials tend to be pushy. They’re sure to try to get their way.”

On the topic of imperial manners, these gentlemen, cigars in hand, could only wince.

Imperials continually proved how capable they were when it came to barbarism such as kicking in tightly locked doors.

“Knowing them, they probably will.”

There was an air of deep sympathy.

These were the kind of fellows who were incapable of saying please and asking for the door to be opened. Since the Empire’s founding, they’d done nothing but swing their fists. Were they capable of even thinking about offering a handshake? No, probably not.

So to open the door, they would go as far as to kick it in. In a pinch, they might even employ an ax or fire.

But that was on land. On water, the landlubber imperials would first need swimming lessons. They would have to learn how to open their fists and do the trudgen stroke.

“Let’s give them a pleasant tour of the great big sea. Expect the cost to equal the amount of shells it will take to sink every last one of them. I ask our honorable Exchequer to please tolerate this expense.”

The navy may have been raring to go, but the civilian side was still skeptical. The officer serving the Exchequer, in particular, had some arguments.

“We’d gladly sign such a delightful invoice, even if we can already see the bill coming; however, is it really possible to stop them?”

“What are you implying?”

“Even a nation focused on its land army is sure to scrape together some sort of escort. What is the strength of our fleet?”

After being challenged and asked if they were absolutely sure, the navy reluctantly responded. “The truth is, it’s rather limited at the moment…but we have a squadron including a cruiser on standby. We’re not about to lose a naval battle to those potatoes.”

“Limited?” That was news to the Exchequer officer, who would usually be the one imposing the limits with budgetary measures, and he wore his doubt openly on his face.

The navy representative shot a glance at the prime minister before reluctantly replying. “Actually, we’re rather busy supporting the Federation…and there’s going to be another sneak attack on imperial-controlled territory by water.”

Everyone present recalled the naval operation that they had tried before and frowned.

How did it go last time? It was an unmitigated disaster. The precious troops deployed for political expediency included air forces that were still in the process of being rebuilt. They hurled young Commonwealth soldiers like eggs at the thick walls of the Empire, all in the name of aiding the Communists.

Of course, they did achieve something. The strategic objective of preventing the Empire from concentrating forces in the east was achieved. But the price they paid was exorbitant.

This again? Under that silent pressure, the military side quickly continued its explanation.

“It’s not going to be a carrier strike group making an all-out assault on the imperial mainland. This time we’re taking a tighter, more efficient approach.”

“Which means? What are you getting at?”

“A small-scale special operation, a feint, and a narrowly defined tactical objective. It’s elaborate, but the number of forces we’re committing isn’t huge.”

That’s your whole explanation? said the looks they were getting. The prime minister, who had been informed of the plan ahead of time, puffed his cigar as he gave the military a hand.

“It’s fine to tell them a bit more.”

“Very good, Prime Minister.” Sending him a thank-you with his eyes, the naval officer began to speak, choosing his words carefully. “What we’re planning is a diversion on the Inner Sea. By performing a limited assault into a delicate area near the Ildoan border, we aim to increase the strain on imperial forces.”

The main purpose of the proposal he roughly outlined was simply a strategic feint.

It was harassment that would make the Imperial Army’s limited resources even more scarce by forcing them to respond.

The core of this plan was the mindset of taking the initiative to do the last thing their enemies wanted—a way of thinking that was extremely similar to imperial Magic Officer Lieutenant Colonel Tanya von Degurechaff’s.

“I don’t enjoy sending our youths to die for the Communists.”

“To be frank, I agree with you. But this assault operation will also achieve one of our strategic objectives. With that in mind, the main target of the attack is an Inner Sea port facility in former Republic territory that has been captured by the Empire. We’ll hit a maintenance base that could very well be servicing submarines. The idea is that at the same time, a special operations mission will be undertaken by a composite Commonwealth–Free Republic commando group.”

“Is the Free Republic on board with that?”

“Retaking a piece of their homeland seems to be ample motivation to get them moving. They agreed to send four commando companies. If we match that amount, we’ll have enough forces to strike in two or three locations simultaneously.”

Reassuring everyone that it wouldn’t be just them risking their troops, the naval officers once again emphasized that it would be a relatively lightweight operation.

“Please understand if I don’t reveal the exact targets. But we can expect to get some significant intel from all this. Even if we do incur heavy casualties…we’ll at least have fulfilled our obligations to the Federation.”

“Great. Though it goes without saying that I hope we succeed.”

As agreement and praise spread around the table, one group of people looked apprehensive as they chimed in. “One last thing from the Foreign Office. If we’re carrying out an operation by the Inner Sea, we’ll be operating right next to Ildoa. Should we shore them up?”

In response to the diplomat’s question, the prime minster gave an ever-so-John Bullish answer. “Eh, I imagine it’s fine.”

“Sir?”

“Gentlemen, why don’t we let the weathercock decide something for once? We can always unfurl our sails to catch the wind after seeing what move they make.”

THE SAME DAY, AFTERNOON

Strangely enough, the heads of both countries came to almost identical conclusions at the same time.

It’s a problem of face.

Don’t laugh as if it’s absurd. A nation’s reputation and its authority are one and the same. And authority is what enables some countries to force other countries to do what they want.

Even something as trivial as appearances becomes a matter of geopolitics when the state gets involved.

The knowledgeable, cultured representatives hurl their decent sensibilities in the trash that moment and turn into arrogant tyrants roaring strict orders. “Win at all costs. Whatever it takes, no matter what happens, you must!”

When political circumstances transform into political requests, endless demands are inevitably placed on the army; in other words, orders that make the people doing the actual work groan.

They don’t have the composure to pay any heed to the likes of Tanya von Degurechaff, a mere lieutenant colonel laboring in the field. What do medals from the eastern front or even the Silver Wings Assault Badge mean in the face of a nation’s geopolitical concerns?

So it is that this poor pawn of the Empire, Lieutenant Colonel Tanya von Degurechaff, is stuck giving her troops a briefing with a heavy heart.

Assemble, attention, begin.

Tanya begins telling her troops the plain truth.

“The Lergen Kampfgruppe will be reorganizing with Colonel Lergen.”

The well-known facts.

As the General Staff promised, the Lergen Kampfgruppe is getting a proper leave. If there’s any exception, it’s the flying squad that reports directly to General Staff HQ—the 203rd Aerial Mage Battalion.

We’re an air unit, so they make us go flying everywhere. Is that how it works?

“But never you fear, my dear troops. Luckily, we don’t need to worry about being out of work. We’ve been given a side job.”

A deceptive smile on her face, Tanya even ventures to chuckle. “Look, the General Staff doesn’t want us to be salary thieves. It’s quite considerate of them.”

“A sympathy mission?”

There is something so funny about the way First Lieutenant Serebryakov asks this, a puzzled look on her face. “Sympathy mission”—has a nice ring to it. Although I’d rather be given a sympathy budget.

On second thought, it’s more pleasant to be here on the defending side rather than fighting on the front lines—that’s for sure.

“Okay, I’ll explain our very simple job. It’s called Operation Bárbaroi. Though the name is the exact opposite of the mission.”

She whacks her pointer into the map on the board.

“We pretend to be a travel agency.”

It’s a homecoming support mission. We get rid of anyone trying to mess up the trip. That’s the nuance Tanya imparts.

“We’re bringing General Romel home. Extremely simple, no?”

“““Huh?!”””

Since her subordinates don’t seem to have grasped the concept, Tanya breaks it down for them.

“It’s a mission to escort the Southern Continent Expeditionary Corps back to the home country. Don’t forget to bring a welcome bouquet.” Waving her hands, she adds a bit of pep to her voice. “It’s quite a civilized mission, don’t you think? We get to welcome our brothers-in-arms who have been fighting down south back to the Heimat. Make sure we have plenty of beer and bratwurst so they can eat as much as they like.”

The troops raise a hearty “gah-ha-ha-ha” like usual. But the laughter doesn’t last long. With another whap of her pointer, Tanya stares her troops down.

“There’s just one little problem. It’s not a big deal, though; relax and hear me out.” She maintains the light mood.

To the battle-worn vets, however, the word problem gets a reaction with the same level of reliability as Pavlov’s bell. Just like the classic example of conditioned reflexes, the laughing soldiers look like they’re about to start drooling.

These crazy war nuts.

“Apparently, unlike me, the general is very popular.”

The victim of stalking.

But though Tanya has been in this world a long time, there’s still an insurmountable cultural wall between her, a civilized individual, and these war nuts.

The reaction of her subordinates can roughly be described as confusion. Apparently, these blank-faced guys don’t get it.

Major Weiss speaks as their representative. “So what exactly will we be doing, ma’am?”

“It’s simple.” She gives her vice commander an amused smile. “He has crazy fans who will say, Oh, please don’t go. Stay with us. It’s almost guaranteed that a few will try to hold him back and keep him from leaving.”

You could even call them fully armed stalkers. What a terribly frightening bunch.

I’d love to call the cops and let the justice system deal with them, but given how heavily armed they are, I think this is rightly a job for the army rather than the police.

In other words, it’s a job for our very own fully armed ruffians.

“This is just the worst possible development, huh? A final farewell to those shitty fans featuring a hail of lead.”

“Ah, so it’s just like the eastern front, then.”

Tanya nods at her adjutant’s remark. She’s exactly right. When explaining things to others, it’s always easiest for them to understand if you can use something familiar as a metaphor.

But to think that the closest comparison is the front line in the east!

“I daresay you’re right, Lieutenant Serebryakov. It’s just like the eastern front.”

What a downright awful reality.

Right when we think we’ve finally gotten away from the eastern front, we get sent to the damn southern one. The higher-ups must have gotten it in their heads that I’m the type of girl who’ll do anything to please.

I guess I really need to lodge a formal complaint to someone about improving labor conditions.

Honestly, I’ve bravely fought with all my might, and I was awarded a medal on the eastern front for it. Even if my fighting spirit is in question, shouldn’t I be able to use all my achievements as a shield and demand, Practice what you preach!?

In any era, it’s always the useless who make the most noise. And incompetence often has a greater impact than any number of achievements. That warrants consideration.

“Wouldn’t it be nice to get some peace and quiet? Even the cool kids want some time to themselves. Don’t you think so, Lieutenant Serebryakov?”

“Yes, Colonel. We’re too popular.”

“Instead of signed photographs, we’ll give out bullets. Soon our way of doing things will be in vogue all around the world! Now, then.” Tanya straightens up. “It’s all fine and good to be fussed over and get a chip on our shoulder, but let’s do this properly. I’m going to explain what sort of enemies we’ll be up against.” She names the main targets explicitly. “Most of those trying to stop them will be from the Commonwealth. Oh, and there might be some guys from the Free Republic tagging along to cause trouble. And the Ildoans also seem to have…feelings about all this.”

Just about all the Inner Sea powers are both against the Empire and “staunchly neutral.” Just fantastic.

If that weren’t the case, our forces would have been able to escape to the Ildoan colonies. If Ildoa is shutting down that avenue of retreat, then the only way out is to forcibly open a path over the water.

Traveling by sea has been a great option since ancient times, but sadly…the most celebrated maritime transport in the Empire’s history has nearly always been commercial, not military.

And due to historical considerations for dear Ildoa, the Empire has a puny naval presence in the Inner Sea—the Commonwealth’s fleet plus the dregs of the Republic’s will be too much for them to handle.

Times like these, you’d like to depend on your ally, according to the stipulations of agreed-upon treaties, but apparently they’re mysteriously “neutral.”

What kind of ally is that?

“…And so, it’s our job to single-handedly handle all these passionate fans. We’ll send those sons of bitches to hell right before the Ildoans’ eyes.”

We must demonstrate in no unclear terms to our fair-weather friend what the consequences of fence-sitting can be.

The appropriate application of violence can, depending on the time and place, guarantee faith with a single word: redline.

“Complicating things is the fact that our aim is only to support the Southern Continent Expeditionary Corps’ withdrawal. I’ll be straight with you. Our enemy is a naval fleet. This will be a new kind of fight for us.”

When Tanya has said that much, a hand goes up with a question. It’s not as if they’re going in order of rank, but Weiss is the first to cut in, seeming perplexed.

“If the objective is to rescue our fellow troops, then the mission doesn’t change, right?”

“That’s a good observation, Major Weiss. But the nature of it is different.”

“Ma’am?”

That is undoubtedly both the point and the biggest issue.

“It bears repeating that the main enemy force is going to be a fleet.”

She purposely emphasizes the word fleet wearing a grim expression. A good explanation of the situation will always include a clear indication of what the commander thinks troops need to watch out for.

“Problematically, we have to face the fact that the 203rd Aerial Mage Battalion is not particularly amazing at maritime engagements.”

“Uhhh, this is us we’re talking about. Aren’t we relatively decent?”

“Major Weiss, take a good long look at reality. You’re awarding us too many points. We have to accept that we don’t perform as well over water as over land.”

Come to think of it, the only time we got passing grades in a joint naval operation was during a mission to attack targets on land. When the combat is against warships, we just barely scrape by with a bunch of red pen marks.

On top of that, we don’t have much experience. We’ve been fighting on the eastern front all this time. That makes us a unit with plenty of combat time, but it has the unfortunate effect of giving us a marked specialization in a single type of environment.

To be blunt, running the same kind of operation over and over again can cause Galápagos syndrome.

It’s been a long time since the 203rd has fought against a naval fleet. For a unit acclimatized to the swamp of the eastern front, the prospect of the sea is plenty cause for anxiety.

“We’re facing a bitter truth, troops. Considering how maritime battles up in Norden and to the north went, I’m forced to admit that water is our weakness.”

So we need to overcome that weakness.

“Regardless of whether the replacements participate in the mission or not…this is a good time for supplemental navigation lessons.”

Having that little bit of extra knowledge can make a big difference. That’s the importance of education.

“All of us have some degree of experience fighting against marine mages. But don’t underestimate them. I imagine some of you have your guard down after the Commonwealth fighters we’ve been encountering on the eastern front.”

People with experience often fail because they rely too heavily on their experience.

Half-complete knowledge is the most dangerous kind. You think you know something you don’t, and as a result, you lose the humility of total ignorance.

“We’ll be facing warriors who are basically natives of the sea. If we’re going to their home turf, that makes us the away team. Prepare yourselves accordingly.”

A different environment naturally yields different results. That obvious truth is often hidden by experiential bias.

A change in the situation necessitates a change in your understanding of the truth experience taught you. But the more serious the student, the more tightly they stick to what they were taught at school.

In the end, it comes down to lifelong learning.

“Now then, we have an opportunity to better comprehend our mission based on its environment. We may simply be providing support for the withdrawal, but conducting our operation over water is going to be a totally different ball game.”

Tanya emphasizes and reemphasizes. Being thought of as an obnoxious commander is better than the possibility of losing her meat shields. What’s required here is careful management.

“We must accomplish both the mission of cleaning up the sea route and escorting the transport ships. Make sure you take the difference in environment to heart.”

“Wouldn’t it be safer for them to just stay put?”

“That’s a valid opinion, Lieutenant Grantz. If you and Lieutenant Tospan were there, you could give the order to defend to the death and what would be would be, but this is General Romel we’re talking about. He isn’t one to sit back and do nothing.”

“Ah, right.” The officers smiled, remembering. That general could die and still be impatient. He’s the type to strike first with a firm resolve no matter what the scenario.

“I’m sure you’re right. Given a pile of stones, he’s far less likely to build a wall than to throw them at the enemy.”

“Whoa, hold on, Major. Have you forgotten everything? There aren’t any stones to speak of in that nostalgic desert.”

“Ha-ha-ha!”

Of the veterans, those mages who were there on the Rhine had been to the southern continent before getting sent to the eastern front.

Covered in sand, plastered in mud—we haven’t gotten very far from playing in the dirt as children. Oh, how war corrodes our humanity. The ludicrousness of bringing iron and blood into games of jumping in mud puddles.

“All right, troops. That’s it from me. We’re headed south. Make sure your snack stash will be able to withstand the heat. Don’t come whining to me if your chocolate melts and you end up with an insect problem.” She claps her hands to signal an end to her explanation. “Any questions?”

A hand goes up. Surprisingly, it’s Grantz starting things off again. “Could you please tell us the estimated fleet strength on each side?”

He thoughtfully adds that whatever she does know is fine, and Tanya shrugs. “It’s not like it’s a big secret.”

“Ma’am?”

“Lieutenant Grantz, I’ll give it to you point-blank. The disparity in naval power is hopeless.”

A maritime nation versus a continental nation.

As a continental nation that has no choice but to prioritize the land forces, from a cost-performance point of view, taking on a maritime nation’s navy is impossible.

It’s entirely too obvious, logically.

“I’m not in a position to know how our naval forces are deployed, but are you saying we can’t rely on the presence of escort groups like the enemy has been doing?”

Grantz wonders aloud, but why doesn’t he realize? It’s something he would understand if he thought for a moment, so she nearly gets upset with him.

“Absolutely not. Can you take a hint?”

“Sorry, Colonel. I don’t really know much about the navy…”

Somebody please explain it to him… I nearly say that out loud before I realize something.

Grantz is one of the rare academy graduates in the battalion. Even counting Serebryakov, who went through the accelerated curriculum, graduates are rare. No wonder they don’t know about the sea!

“Major Weiss, give them some supplementary lessons later.”

“…Er, I’m terribly sorry to ask, but I could also use an explanation.”

“What, you too?!”

Weiss can usually be counted on for his good sense, so if even he doesn’t have a solid grasp of naval combat… Well, shit.

That makes Grantz’s level of knowledge the average! “Haaah,” Tanya sighs as she rummages through her memories.

What a horror overspecialization can be.

“Our navy has almost no ships it can send to the south.”

Not zero.

But incredibly close to zero.

“What we have, apart from submarines, is a warship captured from the former Republic—just a cruiser that wasn’t even seaworthy, forced out of the dry docks with outdated armor. What we do have barely counts as a surface fleet.”

There were virtually no capital ships in the Imperial Navy.

If anything, I suppose you could count the pseudo-heavy cruiser with the 203 mm cannon? From the firepower standpoint alone, it’s immediately clear how depressingly impossible a fleet engagement would be. If we can’t match cannon strength, then we could make up for it with the tried-and-true night attack from underwater, except that our submarines have been having issues with their equipment.

Essentially, the hardest-working members of the Imperial Navy have very little good news to look forward to. The best those submariners can get is, We’ve received torpedoes we can actually use!

So it’s easy to imagine the quality of our explosives.

The biggest headache of all is that we definitely don’t even have enough destroyers knocking around the Inner Sea.

Thus, the conclusion is clear: The navy are a bunch of tax thieves.

Or at the very least, the commanders of the surface vessels down south are getting a lot of free lunches. Cut expenses on some of the port facilities and ship maintenance and send the difference to the eastern front, please.

“Regardless of how it would go if the Ildoan Navy joined our side of the fight, deploying the Imperial Navy is practically pointless.”

It’s true that there are diplomatic and historical elements at play here.

The south for me; the north for you. That’s the summary of Ildoa’s offer. In the end, our wonderful friend Ildoa wanted the Imperial Navy to concentrate on dealing with the Commonwealth Home Fleet.

The Empire had little interest expanding south, and so a deal was struck.

What naval maintenance the Empire did do was focused on the High Seas Fleet. Of course, I don’t think that choice was all bad. There was a point to it.

But given how much the Commonwealth’s navy outstrips ours, I’m forced to admit that much of that effort backfired.

“To use a metaphor you’ll recognize, our surface vessels down south are nothing but sitting ducks for the Commonwealth Navy. They’re like the old Federation mage units.”

Those good-for-nothing surface vessel commanders.

Eating lunch on the state’s tab—hell, I wish I could do that. If possible, I’d like to receive a salary for no work and get cussed out as a freeloading magic officer.

Keeping that fury internalized, Tanya sighs. “That said, it’s true that we can count on their anti-sub capabilities…meaning they’ll be able to escort the boats, at least. But in terms of getting rid of the enemy’s mainstay firepower…”

The magic major before me attempts to accurately estimate what the navy can do, and I reappraise him as a surprisingly fair person.

I’ve always been impressed with his remarkable work ethic. But…during wartime, the assessment that he’s fair when competing with the navy for resources makes him a participant in the ideal marketplace.

“…I beg your pardon, ma’am, but can our battalion really assist in a withdrawal from the southern continent under these circumstances?”

“That’s a very good question, Major Weiss. Actually, I wonder the same thing myself.”

The most we can do is look out for submarines. Or if we have to fight ships, then our only real option is torching their superstructures with explosion or optical formulas. Even if we’re ordered to sink the enemy warships, the limit of what we can accomplish is aiming for flammables that could cause secondary explosions.

Closing in for a boarding will be next to impossible unless the enemy marine mages oversleep and conveniently miss the battle.

That said, this isn’t what I need to be thinking about.

“Apparently, there’s an additional briefing from the General Staff.” She murmurs, “He should be here any minute,” and not a moment after she looks at her watch, her superior appears.

“Sorry to keep you waiting, troops.”

Standing in the door to the meeting room is a tired-looking Colonel Lergen.

“Greetings, Colonel Lergen!”

“At ease. Okay, let’s get right to it. This is about Operation Bárbaroi.”

As they exchange salutes, Colonel Lergen wastes not a moment before the officers, launching right into his explanation.

“Colonel Degurechaff.”

“Yes, sir.”

She has no idea what impossibility he has in store for her, but she knows it’s going to be awfully impossible.

“I need you to do the impossible.”

Correction.

This is just cruel.

Too cruel.

Worse than everything so far? More impossible than all that?

“At your service, sir.”

Sadly, Tanya von Degurechaff doesn’t occupy a social position that allows her to argue. Swallowing those thoughts, she silently waits for whatever is coming. The little difference between an adult and a soldier is the weight of the orders.

If a company mandates something, disobeying gets you fired, but in the army, the firing squad shows you the way out.

“I appreciate it.”

What else am I supposed to say?

“Your orders, sir?”

“I’m sorry.”

His sudden apology triggers urgent alarm bells in Tanya’s mind. The regrets of someone who, though a good individual, is a member of an evil organization are always the worst sort of omen.

Then I’d prefer you didn’t say it… Even swallowing the words that nearly make it out of her throat is painful.

“The Technical Arsenal has prepared a key that will unlock a few doors for us. I need you to insert it into the keyhole.”

“Huh?”

A key?

Prying a door open?

…I feel like I’ve heard this before.

“Wait, no!”

I was told the same thing during Operation Lock Pick.

Open sesame.

I’ll never forget being flown into enemy territory inside a V-1 powered by hydrazine fuel. And I’ll probably never forgive that, either.

That experience, my instincts—everything is ringing my alarm bells. I need to run.

But that resolve doesn’t come fast enough.

“I’ll have him personally explain.”

Timed with Lergen’s introduction, a tidy man pops his head into the room.

He approaches in an utterly normal way. No explosions, no booms, no strange noises. He wears a bright smile, and his manner is natural.

“Well, well, hello, troops.”

He sounds so polite Tanya isn’t sure at first who it is.

“Oh, Colonel Degurechaff. It’s been quite a while.”

“D-D-Doctor?!”

“The grace of God must have shone on your path as well. I’m glad to see you still in one piece.”

He walks right over to her and clamps his hand around Tanya’s. He squeezes so hard it hurts. He must mean it as a sort of handshake, but it feels more like a nightmare where I’m forced into a deal with the devil.

The strangely intense heat of Chief Engineer Schugel’s hands is deeply unsettling. If it weren’t for appearances, Tanya would immediately shake them off and then disinfect her hand and plunge it into ice water to rinse off.

“R-riiight.”

“You don’t need to tell everyone—don’t worry. I understand your worries very well. You pray, wondering how you can protect all your compatriots, right?” He places a hand on his chest. “It’ll be fine—just leave it to me. I’ve prepared the key. It’s perfectly safe. Everything will go off without a hitch.”

Urged to go with him, Tanya and the other magic officers are led to a certain something with a cover thrown over it.

…This is the definition of déjà vu.

Back on the Rhine front…something very similar to this happened… Ahhh, damn it. I can literally see the future. The power of clairvoyance is mine for this one moment. I just know it.

“Follow me, everyone. It’s just over here.”

He whips the cover off and stands there with his head held high. In fact, he spreads his arms to make a proclamation. That ghastly expression, that creepy tenacity, and…something that makes Tanya shrink with a groan.

“Behold! This is it!”

Enshrined there is a huge…long cylinder. A torpedo. No matter how you look at it, that’s one hundred percent a torpedo. And unless I’m seeing things, it’s clearly equipped with a human-sized cockpit.

“This is the V-2. It’s a truly revolutionary weapon!”

The doctor makes his every word drip with importance, and Tanya’s enthusiasm is ground further and further down.

“It’s wonderful! Honestly, I can’t believe I’ve been given the opportunity to introduce something so wonderful to you all. With this, I am fully convinced of the Lord’s blessings.”

“Excuse me, but…this is…?”

“Yes, Colonel! I built this based on your feedback! Just as you requested, you can freely navigate to your destination!”

“What?”

“The V-1 went straight. It flew as true as my faith—in an unbroken, unyielding line! Luckily, the V-2 is made for confronting reality.”

What is the doctor going on about? I feel bad about raining on his one-man parade, but Tanya is an extremely sane person.

Anyone will do, so please get us a mental health professional in here on the double. Not that a military salary is enough to make up for having to deal with blind faith and some form of delirium, but…

“All roads lead to sacred land, routes for gazing up at lofty ideals. That’s what I aimed to re-create by equipping the V-2 with these new guidance capabilities. Just as you all are led unerringly by your faith, it will not stray!”

There isn’t a shred of faith in my body, so can I go home now?

“In other words, this is the most perfect holy-guided torpedo. There could be nothing greater, Colonel!”

“Wonderful! Not to barrage you with questions, but the guidance is fully automatic, then, right?”

If so, how happy I’ll be.

Tanya’s question is intended to be malicious, but the fanatic scientist smiles back at her without so much as flinching. Ahhh, I would feel so much better if I could punch that sketchy face of his.

“Don’t worry, Colonel Degurechaff. I wouldn’t steal the thunder of someone I’ve prayed alongside! We’re fellow supplicants of God’s glory, are we not? You can believe in me.”

His words don’t offer even a micron of relief. Don’t look at me with that sick smile as if you understand!

“I’m just an officer of the Imperial Army.”

A roundabout denial. Sadly, these types don’t get the message no matter what you say. Schugel the engineer who would have understood that she means she’s a soldier, not a believer who is no longer with us.

The doctor, who has been brainwashed into unmatchable piety, won’t listen to what anyone says.

Tanya shakes her head. I don’t think he listened to anyone from the start.

“Just like the V-1, all you have to do is crash this into the enemy. And make your escape. You’ll get a great view of the plentiful explosives on board blowing up whatever problem is facing you.”

So we’ll be human torpedoes is what he’s saying.

That he learned from the Italians and equipped them with an escape system is, well, just barely a good thing.

But what the hell?

“It’s starting to look like there’s no job for us.”

“It will deliver concentrated fire in the form of mages. Surely this is one optimal way to solve your problems. No?”

Though exhausted by the whole thing, Tanya voices a small hope. “And what’s the guarantee that we won’t be blown away?”

“That part depends entirely on the Lord’s feelings on the matter. In other words, I’m sure you can rest easy.”

So I’m supposed to yield my fate to that incarnation of malice known as Being X? That’s not funny! thinks Tanya, and before she knows it, she’s spouting every curse she can think of. It’s not fair at all.

“Oh, Colonel Degurechaff, not to worry. I’m certain the Lord is protecting you—believe in yourself! Not that it means much, but I, a fellow believer, have faith in you.”

“What?”

“I developed this because I heard your suggestions. You could call it a joint project realized by the faith of fellow believers. I’m sure I couldn’t have created something like this without the grace of God,” he said with a charming smile. “Be proud, Colonel.”

The doctor opens his arms wide as if blessing her. Is he overcome with emotion? Raising his hands to the heavens, he looks toward the ceiling with a radiant smile and begins mumbling his thanks to God.

Is this man satisfied yet? Nodding to himself as if he’s come to some understanding, he returns his gaze to Tanya and speaks, looking delighted.

“This thing is practically our child! Ha-ha-ha! A splendid torpedo, isn’t it? Just wonderful.”

“Ch-child?”

“Don’t you worry. She’s a beautiful baby. I gave birth to her, but you sowed the seed. If it weren’t for the insipid christening regulations, I would have asked General Zettour to be the godfather.”

Are you saying I’m the dad and you’re the mom?!

His eyes brim with pride as he pats the torpedo. Just go blind already, you maniac!

“This is nothing like those eels, the morons in the navy, have developed. I’m proud to say I used the utmost care with all the components, down to each and every fuse.”

“What do you mean, Doctor?”

He had no idea how she felt—well, and he probably never intended to find out… I’d like him to reflect a bit on his “accomplishments.”

“This is my torpedo. That is to say, it’s a properly functioning torpedo.”

“…Y-your torpedo, Doctor?”

My frank take on any torpedo the doctor’s developing is sheer terror. It’s literally a torpedo manufactured by a mad doctor. All that inspires is fear. But isn’t that only natural?

Who wouldn’t be scared out of their wits?

That means the doctor is the only one who misunderstands.

For a moment, he crosses his arms and falls silent; then his head pops up, his expression sincere. Agh, what now? I realize he’s emotionally unstable, but if he’s going to explode in a moment, I’d like to gain some distance, so I hope he’ll be considerate enough to hold on for a second.

Wondering what will happen next, Tanya’s about to back away when suddenly the tall doctor is practically on top of her.

“…I thought I understood it logically, but…”

“What do you mean?”

“Yes, that’s the question. I even said it was a joint project.”

As I’m wondering what he’s getting at, his hands suddenly clamp down on Tanya’s shoulders again.

“I’m sorry. Allow me to apologize from the bottom of my heart.”

The creepy scientist crouches to meet her gaze with his, and surprisingly there’s genuine remorse in his eyes.

What is it, Doctor?

“It’s our torpedo. I didn’t mean to…”

With the pale face of a criminal, he kneels before her. Then he prostrates himself as if confessing some great sin.

“I’m so sorry.”

Correction. I want to know exactly why you think that?!

“Please forgive me, Colonel. I nearly gave in to arrogance. It’s our humble, intimate solidarity—our cooperation—that is able to produce miracles, but somehow I nearly forgot that. I became conceited.”

Finally, his expression twists up and he ends up sobbing. If Tanya’s honest sentiments at this moment were being recorded for posterity, they’d read: I’d like to cry, too.

What does he want me to do? Somebody, do something.

“Will you forgive my arrogance, Colonel Degurechaff?”

“…Doctor, what seems to be the matter?”

“A technician must remain humble. That is how we overcome challenges. I made the same mistake as the naval technicians. Without your comment, I would have been trapped in a never-ending cycle of darkness. My sister in faith, I thank you.”

We’re talking past each other.

I’m so lost I can hardly believe we’re speaking the same language in the same country in the same era. Did the Tower of Babel fall or something?

Ahhh, these assholes who call themselves gods must love obstructing mutual understanding between humans. This is absolutely the sort of uncivilized thing Being X and his ilk would do for fun.

Somebody, save me, please. It’s urgent.

My entire view of this situation can be summed up by It makes no sense. I’m forced to ask myself, What twist of fate led to the doctor and me having this incomprehensible exchange?

“…Colonel?” Seeking salvation, Tanya abruptly turns to Lergen next to her, who has been maintaining a polite silence.

Can he get this guy to shut up? It’s unclear how he interprets the concern in her face, but he gives her a small, quiet nod.

“Colonel Degurechaff.”

“Yes, Colonel, what is it?”

“I understand your apprehension. It’s a new weapon. And given all the defects that keep popping up with our torpedoes, it’s only natural that you would have some reservations.”

Ohhh! I’m nearly overjoyed but then the next setback comes along.

“But army specialists in the Technical Arsenal have conducted thorough operational tests. It should pass the bar for trustworthiness. As the doctor said, it can be called a product of solidarity.”

The army must’ve really had some choice thoughts about the navy, huh? Not that I know for sure, but he sounded quite cheerful.

Actually, hold on. Scratch that initial hasty judgment.

From an organizational standpoint, Lergen is one of the most capable. If Tanya ends up competing for funding with him, it won’t be easy to get along even if it’s not army-navy relationship matters.

His comment also quietly overlooks the doctor’s eccentric behavior.

“At any rate, we can probably make up for the inferiority of our main fleet with tactics and technology.”

“I never imagined we’d be fighting an enemy fleet using torpedoes with the land army’s stamp of approval. What can I say? I expect this will be so much fun.”

Perhaps soon, the Reich’s army will be building their own escort carriers and transport submarines, I’m sure. Of course, the only place that can actually happen is in a country where the army and navy have reached the extremes of mutual distrust.

A CERTAIN DAY DURING THE GREAT WAR, IN THE VICINITY OF THE IMPERIAL CAPITAL

In order to discuss Dakar, we need to rewind a bit…

…to a story from before a series of truly strange events landed the unlucky soldier Lieutenant Colonel Tanya von Degurechaff in command of the Salamander Kampfgruppe.

Having just plunged into a war with the Commonwealth, the Empire was faced with the incredibly urgent need to acquire ship-striking capability.

Officially developed as the Undersea Acceleration Apparatus for General Purposes, its code name: V-2…

The weapon that plunged the Commonwealth Navy into the depths of terror. Its development began during Degurechaff’s brief stint in the General Staff Office’s Strategic Research Office.

But even though she was the one to submit the idea, she never stopped to consider that she might be the one to use it someday… Humans can be very irresponsible when things don’t pertain directly to them.

Begun under such reckless circumstances, this weapon’s development was actually overseen and managed quite sensibly. It all began when Tanya was asked for advice.

During a technical research project meeting she had been invited to one day as someone with a wealth of field experience, her mouth was hanging open in shock.

Under discussion was the topic of how to best deal with the superior Commonwealth Navy and the remnants of the Republic’s fleet.

To this soldier, Tanya, who by some strange providence was familiar with the lessons of World War II, it was simply a matter of knocking out warships with aerial attacks or submarine operations.

Having been made to listen to endless debate about battleships and main cannons and big ships with big guns, her patience had reached its limit and she spoke up.

“Antiship combat? Couldn’t we deploy antiship bombers or submarines with torpedoes?” she said. To Tanya, this was an eminently reasonable opinion.

How was she supposed to know that the Imperial Navy’s Aals were practically real eels.

Not to mention that as someone with knowledge of Pearl Harbor and the sinking of Prince of Wales and Repulse, she figured there couldn’t possibly be a capital ship on the sea that could launch torpedoes and not sink the warship or whatever other target for that matter. It wouldn’t function as a proper area denial strategy, but in general, maritime vessels will sink if hit with explosives.

Ultimately, she concluded that deploying a slew of strike teams would be plenty capable of accomplishing something similar. Deploying submarines in concert wouldn’t be a bad idea, either.

In World War I, a lone submarine famously sunk three heavy cruisers in a single encounter.

To make things quicker, what she wanted to say was simple.

Quit this ridiculous waste of time, and let’s talk about torpedoes already! Of course, she didn’t neglect to make it more indirect and polite sounding using bureaucratic rhetoric.

“Considering our enemy’s superior naval forces, the optimal measure for the imperial military to take is to obliterate those forces with a torpedo attack.”

But the answer she received was one she had never imagined.

“…Colonel, we can’t stop them with our submarines.”

Honestly, why only submarines?

The response was so difficult to comprehend, she froze.

Tanya never had the slightest intention of suggesting that the Imperial Navy submarine units should fight a decisive battle against enemy capital ships alone. She just meant that the ships should be sunk using whatever was on hand and usable—a carrier wing, underwater explosives, a land-based strike unit, whatever, really.

She said a torpedo attack. No one ever said it had to be carried out by ships.

“Ah, I meant mainly using air forces, though I propose that full consideration be given to submarines operating in a support role.”

“If only we had such things, Colonel.”

“Huh? I, ummm…”

“Our military doesn’t have a torpedo we can send after ships.”

It was a careless misunderstanding due to being unfamiliar with the details of the air force as a mage.

Until being told at that very moment, Magic Lieutenant Colonel Tanya von Degurechaff hadn’t realized that their air force had no torpedo bombers.

After all, the Pacific theater in her memory had been full of aerial torpedo attacks. And she knows that the devastating blow that felled the Bismarck was made by the old Fairey Swordfish.

To someone like that, it’s a given that torpedo bombers exist.

Thus, Tanya was bewildered.

“…What?”

At that moment, every fiber of her being thought:

What, they don’t exist?

Why?

Why don’t they exist?

The question is so profound that it appeared openly on her face for a split second. And the expression that often garnered whispered comments crumbled away as well. Those present at the meeting were speechless to find that, with her soldierly manner gone, she actually looked her age.

“You didn’t know?”

“No, I… Because we’ve achieved so much.”

Breaking out in a cold sweat, she rifled through her memories. There had definitely been records of ships sunk in the newspaper coverage, internal rumors, and official bulletins.

“Haven’t our air forces sunken any number of ships?”

Even if she didn’t have time to look over the details of the air force’s combat, she kept herself appraised of the overall military situation. Since there had been mention of sinking the warships that were the pride of the enemy fleet, she had been convinced their arsenal included torpedo bombers.

What’s more, she had been on more than a few joint missions with the air force… Could’ve sworn that torpedo bombers were a normal thing to have.

Tanya had always thought of them as something that existed. Until she is told something doesn’t exist, her knowledge imposes a sort of bias. After all, having been thrown into battle straight out of her accelerated education, her only joint combat with the navy had been as organic fire support.

All she could think was that there had to be attack planes somewhere.

“I misunderstood. I thought attack units did that.”

“Those were all the work of dive bombers. And most of them were smaller boats like destroyers and troopships. We don’t deliberately pit our planes against capital ships yet.”

The reply was brusque. Tanya had just gotten a glimpse behind the curtain… What a sadly typical continental nation the Empire was, as represented by its Great Army.

As a result of a drastic expansion policy, the navy in recent years had grown stronger and stronger until it had acquired a formidable lineup.

But the air force was focused mainly on aerial supremacy and flying close air support missions, as might naturally be expected from a continental nation.

“Please excuse my ignorance, but are we developing attack aircraft and tactics for attacking ships at all?”

“We are, but they won’t be finished overnight. They’re probably a year or two away from producing real results. And you can expect their first time in actual combat to be even further out.”

Tanya’s question, more a supplication than anything else, ended with her fragile optimism being shattered.

Her only hope had been the Empire’s strength with technology.

That said, they were lacking the major intangible asset of know-how. Developing something practical would surely take a long time.

Even if there’s nothing that attracts an irrational outcome like acting emotionally…

…this human who values economic rationality sure has a hard time kicking her ironic hatred of irrationality.

“Then how about having subs or torpedo boats carry out close-range attacks?”

All she was doing, as a sensible adult and a soldier thoroughly trained by reality, was offering an alternative plan.

The air force being incapable of reliably attacking ships was a critical issue, so the plan clearly needed improvement.

The reason Tanya had hopes for submarines was because there’s nothing that says attacking ships is the exclusive purview of the air force. And the submarines were already deployed. Using what you have on hand…would be the most straightforward approach.

The imperial submarines were in very good positions threatening the Commonwealth’s sea-lanes. But the complexities involved in nailing a ship navigating on the surface with a torpedo was more difficult than Tanya had imagined. They should have had that capability, though, so Tanya raised her voice.

“A submarine offensive would have the greatest chance of success. We should consider a large-scale attack incorporating an underwater explosives unit and torpedo boats.”

“That would be tough at present. Above all, we can’t expect much given the major technical limitations we face.”

What! Tanya frowned slightly. That was a remarkably negative response—a bit overly negative, no?

Of course, she understood that it would be difficult. It’s easy enough to talk about approaching the enemy and firing torpedoes. But in reality, conducting a torpedo attack required an unbelievably complex procedure.

Calculating the ideal positions, securing the area in front of the bow, and even then whether or not you could attack at point-blank range basically came down to luck.

Even fundamental things such as working out the target’s course or telling it apart from other ships were complicated enough to trip up proficient officers. In order to calculate a torpedo’s path, the target speed, range to target, and angle on the bow all had to be known. Then a fuse and depth had to be chosen as well. So it was perfectly understandable why, from the navy’s perspective, Tanya’s request for a close-quarters attack was out of the question… It made sense.

And Tanya was, of course, aware that she was no naval expert. But rational thinkers have the adaptability to switch up their ideas and take the opposite approach.

Specifically, if they had trouble scoring hits, then that shortcoming simply had to be made up with numbers.

If one out of a hundred shots landed, then as long as there were a hundred shots, the target would definitely be hit.

“Let’s flip this around. We have torpedoes, right? Couldn’t we tackle the problem with quantity?”

“We do, but potential platforms for them are limited. We don’t have enough that will allow us to reliably annihilate all the enemy ships.”

But they had already considered everything she came up with.

Technicians tend to lean toward making innovations, but operations always did the best they could.

They’d adapted every measure possible to improve the low hit rate in both training and actual use.

Thus, to the participants who are trapped in a corner looking for a good idea and therefore asking for opinions from the field, it was the same old debate.

If it was just going to be a rehash of suggestions they had already heard, it didn’t seem like they would get much out of the meeting.

Just as they began to think that, Tanya murmured something.

“Then let’s put mages in torpedoes. We can launch manned torpedoes either from firing tubes or maybe make them detachable from the subs themselves. Then the mages can guide them to the enemy ships—how about that?”

The imagination of a person under pressure is truly nothing to sniff at.

Tanya had said it casually in the flow of the conversation. Things that got put to practical use usually had such surprising beginnings. No matter how crazy they sounded, they branch off from ideas that one can speak of in a normal state of mind.

A whole book could be written on the history of the world’s crazy weapons.

The era with enough nukes to destroy mankind several times over. The era during which it was fun to make dark jokes about nukes, umbrellas, and mutually assured destruction.

As someone who technically lived during those times, Tanya found human torpedoes to be one viable conclusion.

Italy had used them, and there were Japan’s kaiten as well.

“What?”

“Let’s give torpedoes a pilot and a way to steer and smash them into the sides of ships, like the V-1s. As long as the personnel escapes before impact, there won’t be any issues.”

Either way, she was primed to accept the insane idea of human torpedoes.

Tanya cherished her own life above all others’, so her motto, unlike that of those who died protecting their country before her, was “Handle life with care.” Well…she’s far from philanthropic about it, so it was more honest to phrase it as “Handle your life with care.”

And she understood the value of human capital so well it made her sick. Which is why she felt that the Italian human torpedoes were a more clever weapon.

That’s why she doesn’t hesitate to pluck the best bits from each—the destructive power of kaiten and the life-preserving mindset of the Italian ones.

“…Are you seriously suggesting we redesign them to be manned?”

“The actual refitting will be relatively easy to implement. All you have to do is make the navy’s torpedoes pilotable. Making them bigger would be another idea.”

Italy’s maiali were designed very practically.

Well, technically, they may have been mini-submersibles rather than torpedoes…

Upon approaching, it would set a mine.

In the attack on the harbor of Alexandria, a group of six people split into only three teams took out two battleships.

Surprisingly, there were times the torpedoes managed to take out oil tankers and destroyers, too.

From a cost-performance perspective, the maiali definitely outperformed the kaiten.

I mean, if I had to get on one, I’d definitely pick a maiali (because they’re safe and feel safe).

Still, it’s true that the destructive power of kaiten is attractive.

“How?”

“The simplest would be to add a seat straddling the torpedo. The ideal would be to fire from a torpedo tube, but if that were too difficult to figure out, a detachable type would be fine, too. If we go with the detachable type, we’d probably want to make them bigger to get the most power out of them, but…I’m just a layman.”

“By which you mean?”

“I’m proposing this idea irresponsibly. I hope you’ll refer to actual experts for their thoughts on the all-important elements of feasibility and cost.”

In other words, it was just a flash in the pan. Tanya was basically just brainstorming.

What she brought up was the idea of attaching a limpet mine that would stick to the target amid the confusion of impact.

She was speaking as a field officer, thinking it would be handy if they had support for those sorts of unconventional tactics as an option.

“About your idea.”

“Yes, sir.”

“A broad outline is fine, but can you give us a little more detail? What do you mean by a human-guided torpedo?”

“Maybe the way I said it was too unconventional. It’s not much different from the V-1. Once the torpedo is set on course, the crew would simply escape.”

Ohhh. That was when she realized she hadn’t said enough. It wouldn’t do to mix up maiali and kaiten.

“We can consider using them for other things besides attacks on ships. For instance, I think using small torpedoes as boats could be promising.”

“Small torpedoes as boats?”

The perplexed voice raised a natural question.

They could look at her with question mark faces as much as they wanted, but it wasn’t as if—you know.

She didn’t think she was saying anything that strange.

“I’m thinking about missions that involve infiltrating and destroying port facilities. We could use limpet mines to devastate enemy ships while they’re anchored. We’d just have to decide if we’d let the crew be taken prisoner or have submarines pick them up.”

“Right in front of the enemy? That’d be suicide. These self-destructing weapons would cause too many losses.”

Of course, Tanya wasn’t saying the whole army should be using them. She accepted that this was quite removed from orthodox methods of attack.

“I’m envisioning using them as underwater boats in purely special operations. I realize it would be an extraordinary method but think of the cost-effectiveness.”

“Do you have a specific estimate?”

“…As they haven’t been tested in live combat, I can’t say. But compared to the mother ship submarine, the small torpedo crew would be operated by an extremely small unit.”

The inferior Italian military took out two battleships with just six men.

It would be awfully hard to find a more cost-effective way to sink battleships—especially given the fact that although the six were taken prisoner, none of them died.

“We should be able to expect great results attacking ships at anchor. The casualties would be minimal.”

Yes, it would be possible to maximize effectiveness while reasonably expecting zero casualties. And if you used marine mages, you could probably even count on them hightailing it out of there on their own instead of becoming prisoners of war.

It wasn’t out of the question.

“Are you being serious?”

That said, suicide weapons are the product of madness. They’re invented in the wake of a nation’s death throes, having been driven into a corner by the insanity of war.

Even in a certain country in the Far East, there were potent arguments against suicide attacks. In a nutshell, there’s a huge difference between being resolved to die and knowing without a doubt that you will. In the Empire, especially, the generally permissible standard of military action was far removed from Tanya’s understanding of what is and isn’t necessary.

“If we can use them, of course. It’s just one idea, but I think it’s a good one.”

But—

War is synonymous with being forced into extreme situations. It would never be described as total war otherwise.

Operating from that premise, Tanya can’t understand the avoidance of reducing human lives to pure numbers. Like how, before World War I, a British general who saw glimpses of the future in the lessons of the Russo-Japanese War, except everyone else decided he was off his rocker. War changes fixed notions through study with the teacher known as experience, who charges far too high a price.

Conversely, the more reasonable a person, the more they tended to think about the future from the perspective of fixed notions and common sense.

To put it another way, Tanya seemed like a monster who operated according to a logic and principles of action that were simply incomprehensible.

…Of course, Tanya merely possessed a half-decent amount of historical knowledge.

“No, I mean, are either of those plans to improve the torpedoes actually possible to implement?”

The speaker was actually trying to block the crazy-sounding plans with the excuse that they seemed difficult to pull off, although Tanya had no idea that was the case.

“I don’t know much about torpedo technology. But I can answer your question from the perspective of an aerial mage.”

“Please explain.”

“For an antiship torpedo attack with mages aboard…active hostile detection and oxygen supply formulas can be repurposed from high-altitude operations. By mixing pragmatism and cost-effectiveness with magic tech, I would imagine we’d be able to overcome most obstacles.”

“What about for small torpedoes?”

“That’s even simpler. By reducing the amount of munitions packed in, we can put a battery or something in the nose to take care of mobility. What more convenient U-boat could there be?” Can’t forget to give myself some insurance. “Of course, I’m not certain they can be manufactured to specification using existing technology. There could be design challenges I haven’t anticipated.”

“You mean it’ll be an innovation based mainly on combinations of existing technology?”

“Yes, I think low-risk development is best.”

What crossed her mind was a bad example of a country in another world that put all their eggs in the technology basket and failed.

The Germans had a bad habit of being so obsessed with overturning the war situation with strange new weapons that it had serious knock-on effects for their existing production lines.

But due to her experience as an adult working in HR, Tanya is reasonable about the gap between expected value and reality.

After all, she wasn’t speaking in theory but about events that actually happened and things that actually existed.

Regarding feasibility, she was always careful not to proceed imprudently.

“What is the Technical Arsenal’s general opinion?”

And she doesn’t forget to throw the question at the experts out of general diplomacy and a desire to evade responsibility.

To everyone else, it simply seemed like she wasn’t going to let them get away with excuses—but she didn’t know that.

To Tanya, she was merely following protocol.

To her, it was only natural to respect the views of experts in a supremely technical discussion.

Ignoring the engineers while creating an internal management tool was the same as asking for it to not go very well.

This was no different.

“The Technical Arsenal—well, if it’s an order…we would probably be able to whip up a prototype fairly easily. It won’t be too complicated to enlarge the torpedoes and create space inside for mages.”

When asked, experts will mostly answer honestly. And these guys didn’t want to be remembered as the team that didn’t rise to a technical challenge.

If we can do it, we can do it.

That’s the strength of a specialized occupation, as well as its weakness. Pros tend to do anything because they can.

“…Let’s see how the research goes at the Technical Arsenal. I can’t casually decide to send troops to their doom on a whim. A mission where they must be resolved to die is one thing, but missions where death is the only outcome…”

“Of course, human life is the highest priority. I’m firm on that point.”

Those in attendance at the meeting were eager to find a way to achieve a breakthrough.

Everyone from the chairperson to all the way down reluctantly concluded that they didn’t have a reason to refuse.

Which is why it got approved for development “just to try it out.”

“Great. I’d like the navy to at least consider the idea.”

Arghhhh, when did that come from my own mouth…? As that groaning thought comes unbidden, Tanya stares off into the distance with a far-off look in her eyes.

Five words come to mind: You reap what you sow.

This is a reality that’s difficult to swallow. But grotesquely enough, the seeds I sowed really did lead directly to this situation.

Tanya started commenting on the navy’s equipment without thinking, just idly wondering how handy it would be to have maiali…and now she’s the one being made into a human torpedo.

It’s hard to call any of this fun.

JULY 12, UNIFIED YEAR 1927, THE INNER SEA FRONT

The Imperial Navy Inner Sea submarine units were originally outfitted to the same standard as the rest of the fleet.

In other words, the torpedoes they had been allotted weren’t useful for anything at all. That they could speak of that in the past tense was good news both for them and the developer of the torpedoes.

A dramatic improvement in fuses meant a huge drop in absolute nonsense like landing direct hits with duds, explosions upon launch, and magnetic fuses that zip straight past the enemy fleet.

The eels have finally evolved into the torpedoes the submarine department has been waiting for. But even with such good news, it wasn’t as if the standard-issue torpedoes became a silver bullet.

They’re average weapons, nothing special.

Though not terribly fast, they prioritized mechanical reliability, and they were electric driven, which was an excellent design choice for manufacturing efficiency. They would be injected into the eager Inner Sea for use in commerce raiding.

Naturally, that meant the submarines deployed there would also be engaged in hunting merchant ships. But the situation was changing…just a bit. That’s how it seemed to the veteran crews.

The first sign they noticed was strange orders from the higher-ups to make “repairs.”

For some time now, they had been getting told to fit their subs with huge, mysterious attachments. Surprisingly, their protests that it would impact their speed underwater were ignored, and the dry-dock crews went ahead making the “special modifications” as strictly and decisively instructed.

When they saw the result, it was only natural that even more captains were firmly, dramatically against having them on their ships. Despite that, the submarine units, in a rare move, were forced to go along without any explanation besides the fact that it was “orders.”

It was only a matter of time before What the hell is this? became a new shared greeting.

For better or worse, only the passengers and the crew of the mother ship submarine knew the truth. To come out and say it, they were for the new weapons. These modifications made it possible to carry the V-2. The consensus of all the crew members who were informed of the plan was invariably These guys have lost their marbles.

Strictly speaking, it wasn’t only them. The aerial mages to be loaded into them agreed wholeheartedly. To be perfectly blunt, even the Technical Arsenal engineers were dubious.

The only one brimming with confidence was the inventor.

So while a great many people, including the submarine crews, questioned the sanity of the project with questions like, You’re really doing this? Chief Engineer Schugel led the Technical Arsenal in equipping the submarines with the massive, unwieldy attachments. They were even kind enough to give the subs an elated send-off with three cheers, sure that they would work exactly as designed.

It was the kind of send-off that really made you feel like not doing your job.

If at that moment, the Commonwealth Jabos had sprayed the wharf with machine-gun fire and blown the engineers away, I would have given them three cheers.

The daydream was a bit too pro-enemy to be having on board a warship, but that just showed how much mental pressure Tanya was under at the time of their departure.

She had gotten distracted, staring gloomily at the wharf; even I was surprised how absentminded I was. Before there was any time to realize, they were at sea.

I mean, subs are slow.

They don’t cruise much faster than ten knots. To an aerial mage who regularly travels at speeds with another digit added on, they’re unbearably slow. It takes quite a while to get far enough out to sea that the scenery changes.

But that’s not the only thing bothering her.

The most perplexing thing of all is that despite the operation having just begun, everything is going according to schedule. The troops mix in with the on-duty personnel, providing lookout support.

“…I don’t think we’ve ever been this on schedule.”

With a wry smile, I look out at the open water to see the beautiful blue. It’s leisurely enough that I can find the time to appreciate how relaxing it is to watch the spray of the sub’s wake.

How utterly puzzling it is to be on time. It’s so strange and unnerving, as someone who until recently had irregular playdates with Commies in the vast open plains of the east.

“We’re but a speck in the great big blue. Well, I guess we’re a group of subs so more like a pack of specks. The sea is entirely too vast.”

The eastern front was vast, too, but the Inner Sea feels even more so. Search and destroy submarine missions are a classic example of something easier said than done. Even Tanya, who has participated in a number of submarine operations and been on enough sub rides to not look forward to another, can’t hide the fact that the idea of searching for enemies in a sub seems a bit comical.

Not that anyone’s disparaging submarines. They’re perfectly capable of locating and attacking enemies. I’m well aware of how effective they are as weapons. With the Aals improved to the point where they detonate properly, imperial submarines can be considered a legitimate threat to the Commonwealth fleet now.

If there’s a problem, it’s the orders expecting the submarines to do the lion’s share of destroying enemy ships. Even the Imperial Japanese Navy, which was obsessed with fleet subs, didn’t try to force those kinds of expectations on their submariners until they were under so much pressure it wouldn’t have been strange if their heads exploded.

Submarines can’t be used like aerial and armored divisions, but…the infantry-minded General Staff Office seems to have them confused with some kind of mobile strike force.

The Imperial Japanese Navy’s interdiction strategy, often criticized as being dogmatic, was about weakening the enemy’s naval forces, not completely destroying anything. They never claimed they were going to gain total control of the waves.

If the General Staff is calmly ordering us to search and destroy the enemy naval forces, then they’ve clearly lost it. Or maybe not.

Staff officers are overly specialized in land war. In other words, they’re extra-smart army guys. If you think of sea power as land power, there are going to be some goofy orders flying around.

Although all Tanya can think is, Are you stupid? Though it’s insolent to say so, she can’t avoid feeling dissatisfied.

Land and sea are connected, but they’re different worlds.

The only ones who can look out at the sea from land and give orders are admirals who intimately know what it’s like out there.

Most of the geniuses at General Staff HQ don’t know the first thing about the sea. It’s terrifying to think about, but… I realize with a gasp that naval tactics weren’t even taught at the war academy.

Tanya has built up a decent wealth of military knowledge after going through the academy and the war college. Even if it only holds for within the Empire, it’s probably fair to say she has a better education than most.

That only emphasized the point that even if the curriculum was crammed into an accelerated time frame, it should have instilled in her everything the military thought a career soldier needed to know.

Yet, all I know about maritime battles comes from the remnants of my past self who lived in peaceful modern-day Japan, plus what little I’ve gleaned while on joint operations with the Imperial Navy.

I haven’t received any systematic education on naval doctrine.

“…Even the staff trips were always to mountains, hills, or plains.” As I grumble, I can only shake my head. In fact, it’s entirely possible that I know more about naval battles than…any of the other staff or magic officers. “What in the…? This is a travesty. Also, that being my area of expertise brings me no joy.”

Being good at one’s job is a selling point. But there are also times that your specialty can be a curse. For example, like right now.

“I have to do this, but the reality that I have to do this sucks.” Tanya lowers her voice so the sailors near her can’t hear and moans, a dismal expression on her face. But though I’m gazing at the sea, my mind remains desperate.

Why did this happen?

How did it come to this?

“Haaah.” It happens the moment her umpteenth sigh dissipates into the ultramarine sky.

“Telegram! It seems one of the Sixteenth Air Fleet’s scout planes has located the enemy!”

The first report of a sighting. She can’t decide if she had been waiting for the news or if she had been wishing it would never come.

Either way, it’s intel on their prey. The submarine’s crew perks up slightly.

“The enemy fleet’s been spotted! The enemy fleet’s been spotted!”

Of course, when it comes to work, I can switch gears easily enough.

“Colonel, Captain Barchet is calling you.”

“Tell him I’ll be right there!”

As soon as I receive the sailor’s message, I set off running. I suppose it’s lucky that the narrow submarine corridors that would slow an adult man down don’t get in my way at all.

I nimbly weave my way straight to the captain.

“Captain, I heard about the telegram.”

“Sorry to summon you like this, Colonel.”

Rank-wise he’s a major, but he’s in charge of the boat as its captain. Plus, he’s from the navy. It’s too complicated to get into the nitty-gritty of rank hierarchy.

“No worries, Captain Barchet. After all, I’m merely getting a lift; you’re the captain. It’s only natural to prioritize the host’s concerns. Don’t give it another thought.”

“Thank you. Well then, Colonel Degurechaff, here it is.”

As he speaks, he hands her the transcript of the message.

Upon skimming the document, Tanya nods with a small motion. A squadron of enemy ships. It’s almost certainly our target. That must be them—no mistake.

“…At the least, a group of warships that includes a few capital ships or cruisers. Two that are possibly heavy cruisers, four that are destroyers or light cruisers. No aircraft carriers.”

But that makes me feel like something is slightly off. If this is the enemy’s formation, it’s strange…

“No aircraft carriers? That’s odd. Given the way the Commonwealth usually operates, I would expect there to be an aircraft carrier in the vicinity. Could there be a mistake?”

“I’d maybe say they could have been mistaken if there were some oil tankers in the report, but I don’t think anyone would mix up a major warship and a carrier. If there isn’t one, that sounds like great news to me…”

Tanya nods in response to Barchet’s comments, but she isn’t satisfied and cocks her head. The importance of aircraft carriers can’t be taken lightly.

They rule the sea.

“Certainly. That said, at the moment, we can assume we just haven’t found it yet.”

“Yes, it’s important to do a thorough search; however—and maybe I’m not saying this the right way, but…if our reconnaissance planes aren’t being dogged by enemy direct support fighters, then isn’t that circumstantial evidence that they aren’t present?”

True, the canaries are singing safe and sound. If the reconnaissance crafts are able to carry out their mission without harassment, I can see how that would indicate there’s no carrier nearby.

Carrier-based aircraft are tricky opponents. Generally speaking, carriers are also manned with a ton of marine mage units, so the absence of a carrier is something she can be truly happy about.

“…So we can really say there’s no enemy aircraft carrier?”

“We shouldn’t let our guard down, but I think it’s safe to hope.”

Tanya smiles as she agrees.

“I suppose we’ll find out once we make contact.”

After all, advance intel is all unconfirmed anyhow. If we had the ability to see across the entire battlefield, it would be the first innovation in military science since Clausewitz.

Alas, we’re stuck in the company of the irritating fog.

“There’s no sense stacking speculations atop more speculations. Let’s just see what happens.”

“Indeed, Colonel.”

“All right, please take us to them.”

“On it. We may just be deliverymen, but we’ll do what we can. Shall we launch some of the old internal combustion models or the new electric ones as dummies after you all launch?”

Barchet’s question makes me pause for a moment as I think on it.

He must be offering out of kindness, but I’m not sure what to make of it. Would the enemy really miss a pile of torpedoes streaming toward them, even if they’re battery powered?

How does the navy conceptualize submarine stealth during an operation like this?

“The conditions at sea depend on the sky, I suppose. What’s the weather forecast like?”

“Fair or slightly cloudy. I’m sure the sea won’t get choppy.”

“In that case…” Tanya shakes her head, refusing the captain’s kindness.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, we can’t afford to risk the boat that’s supposed to be keeping a record of our achievements. It won’t look very good to go back with no idea of what we accomplished.”

Achievements are used to rationalize everything.

If it comes down to it, we have permission to enter Ildoa, but…whether or not we get results will change how our nation treats us after everything is said and done. If we stray into Ildoa having accomplished nothing, it’s easy to imagine that the Empire’s prestige will take a hit.

Though to avoid trouble, I’d prefer to avoid Ildoa entirely after the strike. This is for a different reason than the domestic one.

That is to say, Ildoa, our ally, is awfully neutral for an ally.

If someone from a belligerent state came fluttering in, they might be taken prisoner without any questions asked. Personally, I feel it’s worth considering being detained by this “strictly neutral power” if it meant I could secure my safety for the remainder of the war.

But given the strange relationship between Ildoa and the Empire at the moment, I’m not sure it would work out. It’s possible we would merely end up being traded as a bargaining chip.

There’s nothing safe about that.

It’s difficult to see the long-term implications, but short and medium term, it’s highly likely that it would negatively affect my status in the Empire.

Considering the current situation…Tanya should only run to Ildoa once every other option is exhausted.

Oh, right. We were ordered to show Ildoa we mean business.

Violence is usually said to cause trouble, but the truth is, that depends on the time and place. It’s better for a belligerent power to be feared than taken lightly. Surely that’s the essence of Machiavellianism.

“…A chain is quite something.”