Advance on Turus
40 years after the Great War
Londinium
The unexpected appearance of the Imperial task force in the southern continent, and General Ketchener's subsequent defeat sent the Allied Kingdom and the Free Republic into panic. Until that point, the leaders of the Allied Kingdom were convinced that the Empire would attempt an invasion of the home isles and strike the island nation directly. Likely after attempting another decapitation strike, a tactic that the Empire was now becoming infamous for.
However, the defeat atAlealmayn proved that places previously considered out of the Empire's reach were now being targeted and nowhere was safe from imperial attack. Worse still, the loss represented another damaging blow to the government's war strategy and further eroded what little faith people still had in Prime Minister Samuel Baldwain's ability to lead. Meanwhile, the forces of the Free Republic were still reorganising after the flight from Francois and were left to frantically create a defence against this new threat.
General von Romel mentions in his memoirs that at this point in the campaign he was under pressure from the General staff to continue on to the Suez Canal, however, he knew this to be a fool's errand. With only sporadic supplies making it through Illdoan Libya, and not nearly enough troops to occupy the newly won territory, he knew he could not advance too deep into the Commonwealth controlled lands. Additionally, he had no way of knowing how long before the vastly superior forces of the Republic would be ready to counterattack, and he did not dare risk having his forces trapped between the two superpowers.
He instead chose to strike at the Free Republic before they had a chance to regroup. He speaks of how thankful he was of the backing of Generals von Zettour and Rudersdorf at this time, both supporting his choice of action to the Imperial High command when others questioned his decision.
The Commonwealth forces in the region were not to receive much respite, however. As many of its supply depots were raided and destroyed by the Imperials before they left, leaving a large area that was difficult for any large force to operate in. Fortunately, the Royal Navy was able to step up to the task of keeping both the Commonwealth and the Free Republic well supplied while the allies weathered Romel's assault. – Andrew WTN special correspondent.
September 22nd Unified Year 1925
Free Republic Military Command Centre, Boulaouane Kasbah, Casablanca
General De Lugo could barely keep the look of contempt from his features as he looked over the gathering of bickering officers. Between them, the men at this table commanded the largest fighting force on the continent. Yet, rather than rally to the cause of freeing their homeland, they dithered and made excuses as they argued about who should command their crusade.
Their forces may have been under-equipped for the moment, strained further by the De Lugo's orders to begin conscripting from the local populace, but they were still a force to be reckoned with. Every day they were receiving shipments of equipment donated by their allies in the Allied Kingdom. Along with food and fuel bought from the all too greedy merchants of the Unified States. Meanwhile, the colonial administrations were working overtime so that they could fully support the brave soldiers of the Free Republic in every way possible. Every day they became stronger.
They had had a force that could drive the Empire from the continent if they properly applied their strength, Illodoa too if necessary. He had borrowed against the country's future so that they could continue their righteous campaign to retake their home, yet these men refused to commit, as though they feared they could somehow lose even more.
The meeting had yet to start, and they were already at each other's throats. Squabbling about who had the greater right to lead their forces or dragging up some ancient slight that should have been long forgotten. Still, things would be easier if he could get these officers on side.
These men had served in the colonies for years, and many had a professional staff, local knowledge and connections which could be a huge help to their cause. Although there were some bad apples, many were actually very good officers with a great deal of experience. Unfortunately, they had fallen out of favour or become politically difficult so sent away. De Lugo would use them if he could, he needed every edge to drive the Imperial's back to reclaim the Republic.
However, he was prepared to do it without them if necessary. The future of the Francois Republic demanded he did everything in his power to free the fatherland.
It had been difficult enough to gather all these generals here in the first place. They had only reluctantly accepted him as the political leader of the Free Republic and had likely only joined the war council to voice their discontent. They claimed that they objected that he had not been elected in the traditions of the Republic, a sentiment he would share in more usual circumstances. However, times were desperate, and they needed a strong leader and had no time to hold elections. Besides who would vote? Most of their citizens remained under the heel of Imperial jackboots.
The Generals knew this, De Lugo suspected their real objections were based on self-interest rather than a love for democracy. Now they were here, he would remind them that it was in everyone's interest to get their home back.
"Gentlemen, if we could please come to order." De Lugo called over the din, doing his best to project a calm authority over the meeting despite his growing frustration. "I've invited you all here to discuss our plans for persecuting this war."
"Should we not wait for General De Juin?" One of the younger officers interrupted, and De Lugo fixed the man with a cold stare.
De Juin had proven to be a major thorn in De Lugo's side since he had arrived on the Southern Continent. The Lieutenant-General placed all blame for losing the homeland on De Lugo, he refused to acknowledge him as their new leader and treated any orders as "suggestions." He was his most outspoken critic and part of the reason he'd had so much trouble getting the rest of the generals to support him. If not for De Lugo's popularity amongst the troops and local politicians, he might never have managed to continue the fight against the Empire.
"General De Juin will not be joining us." De Lugo replied carefully, watching as the other officers shared sideways glances. The stubborn mule had ignored De Lugo's summons, simply writing that he would do what was right for the "True Republic." The other generals likely thought of this as a sign of weakness, a sign that De Lugo's support was not as strong as he might have liked.
They were mistaken, he would prove that to them soon enough.
"Gentlemen, I have gathered you here to this council of war so that we may discuss the Imperial threat. I believe you all must have heard of General Ketchener's defeat by now." He began, surveying the room, watching the expressions of the gathered officers. He was dismayed by the show of arrogance displayed by the men as they heard the news.
"The old fool was outwitted." Lieutenant General Pétain called vindictively, despite being almost as old as Albish general had been. Pétain and Ketchner had been rivals of sorts, he knew the two didn't like each other but De Lugo had hoped that his countryman would have shown the old Albion some respect now that he was no longer with them. "He was always far too reckless."
"He never should have left Iskandria." Came another voice, soon followed by more murmurs of agreement as the room began dragging the Albish general's name through the mud.
De Lugo did his best to tune out these disparaging comments about the old Commonwealth General, he feared he might lose his temper if he did not. He wanted to argue in favour of the old Albion but to do so at this point would be impolitic. However, he kept an eye on who was speaking out; their cautious attitude was concerning.
De Lugo had always respected Ketchener, the man had won many victories in his youth and had never let the changing face of warfare leave him behind, even as age caught up with him. He was sure that Romel would have run rings around most of the men here. He was an expert at manoeuvre warfare; he would have had an easy time disrupting their lines while their cautious attitudes kept them hidden behind the fortifications of their pocket kingdoms. But Ketchener had been daring and aggressive, he saw the danger and moved to gain the initiative. Tried to take away Romel's advantage, just as any good leader should.
His loss was a painful defeat for all of them. De Lugo almost wished that the Allied Kingdom had experienced the true depths of the Empire's cunning before the battle. Perhaps if they'd witnessed first-hand what the Imperials were capable of, the old Albion might still be here. De Lugo would have a worthy ally watching his flank and a like-minded individual to fight this war with.
"Intelligence suggests Romel has turned around and is heading back towards our territory." De Lugo continued, retaking control of the meeting once more. "Since a great deal of our forces are still trying to reorganise, we are uniquely vulnerable, we must act quickly."
For once, there was a murmur of agreement from the men and De Lugo felt some of the tension leave his shoulders. Perhaps there was hope that these men could be of use to him. Now they realise the severity of the situation, we might finally get somewhere.
"Well put, Pierre." Said Pétain informally, causing De Lugo's eye to twitch with annoyance at the casual familiarity. They weren't close, it was obviously a calculated insult to win himself some political points amongst the group by making him look foolish. "The best strategy is for our forces to dig in and fight delaying actions until the men from the mainland are reorganised."
There was a disgruntled chorus of agreement, each man agreeing with the strategy but clearly reluctant to support one of their rivals. The united front did not last long however, and soon the men returned to bickering over the map on the table. Each arguing that areas containing their own interests were of greater strategic concern than the others. Pétain dominated the proceedings however, taking for granted that he would take the lead in the upcoming operation. He still pushed for defending the isolated pockets hidden amongst the vast emptiness of the desert, where they would be easy pickings Romel's forces.
All of them ignored the brooding figure of De Lugo silently smouldering at the head of the table, his hands clenching together as his frustration grew. They had clearly forgotten he was not some mere political figurehead. He had been the vice minister of war before the fall, he was used to deciding strategy on a grand scale. Additionally, he knew their enemy better than anyone here, he had suffered at their hands.
"I have already chosen a strategy that we will use to counter the Imperial task force." He rumbled quietly but with enough force to cause the other men to pause their debate.
"The enemy has deployed a small but mobile force, it is clear that they intend to split our forces into small groups and destroy us piece by piece. The Desert is ideal for this, it gives him space to manoeuvre. However, we can counter this by concentrating our forces." He began ignoring the stunned looks on the other officers' faces as he marked several locations on the map. "We will pull back and muster our forces in these locations, from there we will slowly close the net on Romel. We will cut off his options and overwhelm him."
"That would mean surrendering a huge amount of land to the enemy!" One officer protested loudly.
"A temporary sacrifice, to prevent disaster I assure you." He replied calmly fixing the man with a glare, "A simple tactical withdrawal."
"Concentrating our forces like that is impossible!" Pétain objected, "This is the desert! We can't keep so many men supplied when deployed like this!"
"I'm aware of the difficulties in maintaining supply lines." De Lugo replied calmly, "however the alternative is to give the Imperials a free hand, we cannot allow that. We have supply caches across the continent and the Allied Kingdom has promised a steady stream of supplies for anything within 50 miles of the coast. It will have to be enough."
The assembled officers shared a worried look and De Lugo found himself suppressing a grim smile. It seems I've finally found a way to unite them. He thought glumly.
"I'm sorry General, but I don't think you realise quite how difficult such an endeavour will be." Pétain continued, suddenly much more politely. "Any advance would be at a snail's pace and the rate of attrition in this climate would be unacceptable. We have to advance in small groups to keep a steady rate of supplies."
"That would leave our forces open to attack. We know that Romel will take advantage of any weakness." De Lugo countered but Pétain refused to listen.
"It's simply not practical!"
"Your officers believe it can be achieved."
"It cannot be done!" The Lieutenant general declared finally as a chorus of agreement filled the room.
So it's come to this thought De Lugo as he surveyed the room one last time.
"I believe I have grasped the situation. If you are all so strongly against the operation, then I have no choice." De Lugo said carefully watching as the assembled officers visibly let out a sigh of relief.
"Then you understand that we can't support this action?" Pétain asked expectantly.
"Indeed, it would be difficult to command in an operation that is opposed by my general staff." He continued with a smile before calling to some men waiting outside the room.
The generals watched in confusion as several soldiers entered and stood behind each of the assembled officers, handing them bundles of documents. Each of these men had been picked personally by De Lugo, and all were familiar to the generals. They were senior personnel from each of the generals' personal staff, here to show that they had pledged themselves to De Lugo and the Free Republic. Here to show the Generals that they were replaceable.
"Therefore, I have found more suitable positions for you all as councillors advising the local governments. Good day, gentlemen." He finished rising from his seat as the room erupted into anger. However, the stern looks from the soldiers prevented the assembled generals from resorting to violence.
These men were lucky, in an emergency such as this he was within his rights to take much more drastic measures. However, politics and a sense that some justice from the old republic should remain had stayed his hand. He had placed them out of harm's way and given them comfortable positions with limited influence. He could have locked them up or had them shot for cowardice; no one could say he wasn't merciful to his enemies.
"You have no right to do this!" Pétain called as De Lugo turned to leave. He ignored him, he had every right, as the leader of the Free Republic he was duty-bound to remove them for the good of the fatherland.
He let out a sigh of relief as he exited the room, although short, the meeting had been extremely taxing. The removal of the generals would likely cause him more operational problems in the long term, but at least he wouldn't have the headache of dealing with them anymore. He walked with renewed purpose as he entered the command centre and was gratified to see his men already hard at work preparing for the operation.
"Sorry to keep you waiting gentlemen." He called as the mix of Rhine veterans and eager colonial loyalists all greeted him. He was pleased to have such brave compatriots by his side. Like him, they were keen to take the fight to the enemy and had already begun distributing his orders to marshal the men.
"Can I assume that it didn't go well, sir?" Asked Colonel Vianto knowingly passing him a progress report. De Lugo simply nodded, the veteran mage had known him long enough to judge his moods by now and he had been his closest friend and ally since the Rhine. He trusted the mage with his life.
"We will proceed without them. They are more loyal to themselves than they ever were to the republic." He confirmed, "We must be united if we are to return it to glory."
"What of General De Juin? The Imperial's are closing on Turus and there may still be some among his men that are willing to join us." Vianto asked, as ever concerned for the lives of the soldiers at the front lines. "Not to mention a sizable amount of our navy is still under repairs in the docks."
De Lugo paused thoughtfully for a few moments. Part of him dearly wanted to leave his rival to his fate, but he couldn't do that to the brave soldiers under his command. They were dutifully following the orders of a fool; they couldn't be blamed for that.
"Take some mages to Turus and try to convince De Juin to evacuate. I have asked the assistance of the Royal Navy to tow the ships out." De Lugo replied eventually, "I'd prefer to send our own fleet, but we need to save as much fuel as possible for our advance.
"And if De Juin refuses to evacuate?
"I trust that you will do what needs to be done."
September 23rd Unified Year 1925
Somewhere in the Al-Sahrā Desert
Mr John Doe had been forced to make a great many sacrifices during his service to his sovereign nation. His honour, his dignity, perhaps even his very soul had been given over to further interests of queen and country. He'd even been forced to give them his name.
Technically his true identity was stored away, kept to one side so that one day he might step back into his old life as though he had never left. It was kept hidden as one might lock away one's treasures to prevent theft, but to John, it was no less of a sacrifice. There was limited time to share between his two personas and every day he spent as John Doe was a day he would never get to spend as his true self.
He'd already missed the death of his mother, what else might be lost in service to the crown? The day he might meet his future wife? Teaching his future child to ride a bike? He may have sacrificed countless potential futures in order to ensure the safety and prosperity of the Allied Kingdom. A sacrifice given in secret with no glory or prestige to show for his effort at the end of it.
It often occurred to him that people tended to look down on his profession. Spies by their very nature tended to garner a reputation for being untrustworthy, even if it was usually unwarranted. They fought secret battles in the shadows with their wits and guile rather than with blood and bullets. They kept secrets and used information like currency while others fought their enemies on equal terms. Worst of all they did the dirty work for the nation and made problems disappear in a manner that most considered distasteful.
But it was all in the name of Motherland.
For some reason, people thought this manner of conflict was a dishonourable endeavour. As though allowing countless men to die was preferable to stealing the enemy's plans or assassinating a VIP to prevent such a catastrophe. It seemed odd to John that so many saw the world as though they were playing a civilised game of cricket and they needed to abide by the rules. John had learned long ago that there were no hard and fast rules to this game; sometimes there was no choice but to be a bad sport. You just had to make sure you weren't caught.
Soldiers were particularly judgmental when it came to his occupation. They were thankful for the information that people like John provided but always kept him at arm's length. It was understood they were both working towards the same goal, but the soldiers never saw him as one of them. They never said it, but John could tell they felt he wasn't risking nearly as much as they were.
Soldiers often said they would give their life for their country and John was certain that every man jack of them believed it when they said it. He envied them; what the critical eyes of his comrades on the front lines didn't realise that as a spy he'd already given his life, a down payment to help prevent them spending their own lives unnecessarily.
And no one would ever know.
Despite the high cost, he was proud of his service to his country, he would not have chosen to serve in any other way. He had been given the opportunity to see and experience things others could only dream of. He'd seen the world in a completely different light, although not always in a favourable one. He sometimes wondered if he could go back after everything he had experienced, it was frightening how ignorant most people were of the truth of the world.
However, despite his overall positive impression of his work, he sometimes wished the higher-ups were a little more considerate of his needs when they deployed him to places like this. His current complaint was that he had been completely unable to source a decent cup of tea since he'd left Albion. The beverage wasn't exactly popular in the desert and the Illdoans tended to prefer the bitter and unpleasant taste of the coffee bean. Thus, his favoured refreshment had been difficult to come by as he'd been traversing Illdoan Libya.
Additionally, the higher-ups in Londinium, who he knew were likely enjoying a cup while making these decisions, seemed to think that sending a few extra tea bags with his supplies was a waste of resources. Apparently, it was thought that it was not essential for his mission here, whereas the maps, weapons and money were of course paramount to its success.
John disagreed with this assessment, as far as he was concerned a cup of tea was essential for any situation, and he knew he was much more agreeable after his morning brew. Alas, the brass in Londinium had ignored his pleas, so he had been forced to suffer.
Another sacrifice for Queen and country.
Fortunately, he'd had plenty to be getting on with to keep his mind off the deficiency of his favoured refreshment. He'd had more than a month and a half to make contacts with both the nomadic tribes in the area, as well as other groups opposed to Illdoan colonial rule. He'd had successfully built an effective information network and organised partisan groups to stir up trouble for both the Illdoans and Imperials. Trouble with the locals would do wonders to help keep the Illdoans busy and anything to cause problems for Romel was always a welcome bonus.
He'd spent some time in the company of the nomads and had learned that nobody knew the desert as these people did. They had the ability to appear and disappear into the sands seemingly at will and they knew secret paths through the terrain that let them traverse the wilderness with impressive swiftness. He had high hopes that they would be able to cause some mischief for the imperial general.
Unfortunately, many of these groups also had concerns about the Republic and the Allied Kingdom's rule over the region too. However, John had gone to great lengths to convince them that it would be better to fight alongside them, at least for the moment. There was no point in swapping one colonial ruler for another after all. Besides, the Commonwealth was moving towards the self-determination of its constituents, they had freedom on the way, more or less, why risk losing it? As for what the Republic would do after the war, well it wasn't his problem.
Overall, he felt like he'd done a fine job here. It was a shame he couldn't have a cup of tea to celebrate, he'd even settle for Earl Grey. Then again, he doubted many of his contemporaries in the Allied Kingdom felt much like celebrating right now.
Ketchener's defeat had been a blow to morale across the Commonwealth and had been another nail in the coffin for the Prime Minister back in the Allied Kingdom. The poor man clearly wasn't made for wartime decisions and the movement for a vote of no confidence against him was growing. He'd heard that discussions had begun to decide who should replace him, and shockingly even the opposition parties were promising to support a new government until the war was over should the vote pass. Evidently, the politicians back home were getting very nervous.
The Prime Minister's poor decisions had even affected John in a way. In the aftermath of Alealmayn, he had made sure his new friends were ready to help out with the defence of Iskandria. These friends had been the first to find out that the Imperials had turned around and were heading back towards the Free Republic's territory and he'd quickly reported this information back to his superiors.
However, the Prime minister had ignored this information, choosing instead to rely on the words of a dying Australasian soldier and some conflicting reports from project Ultra. Convinced of an imminent assault on the Canal, he'd ordered almost all the troops to head back, along with a sizable chunk of the Southern Sea fleet. It took days for them to realise their mistake and during that time only the nomads had acted against the Imperial task force.
There had been some good news however, the new anti-mage rifles had finally arrived. Although large and unwieldy, these weapons had excellent penetration power that could easily rip through light armour and even the strongest of mage barriers. They would be an ideal counter to Romel's task force. It was just a shame they hadn't arrived earlier, maybe they could have turned the tide at Alealmayn.
Still, there was no use crying over what could have been. They now had a surplus of such powerful weapons on the southern continent and some new colleagues eager to make use of them. They couldn't simply give them to their new friends in the separatist groups, of course. The Allied Kingdom would never consider something as dishonourable as that; officially at least.
However, the mess that the Imperials left behind meant that not all the new weapons were well guarded, and it seems that some had already gone missing! How very shocking! It was almost as though they knew they were there! Some poor diplomat would soon have to explain why so many Albish weapons had made it into the hands of Lybian nomads, but John judged it a decent trade-off to see his new friend's armed.
He doubted even the most dim-witted espresso drinker would believe they were stolen, but it would be difficult to prove false. The suits would do their best to calm things down in the meantime; he'd already heard that De Lugo's people were leaning on the Illdoans pretty hard.
Now that the nomads were armed, they hoped they could begin causing a few problems for the Imperials. They didn't expect miracles, but it was hoped that a guerrilla campaign would at least slow Romel down.
John had also taken the liberty of picking out a few high-profile targets for his new friends to test their new rifles on. General Romel, a few of the colonels and other high-ranking officers were obvious targets, as well as signal officers to disrupt their communications. He'd also assigned high priority to anyone they saw wearing mage equipment as each mage lost would be a significant blow to the enemy. Besides, that was what the rifles were designed for.
He'd considered having them specifically target the Devil, but he'd thought better of it in the end. The nomads had yet to see how destructive she could be and would likely have seen her as nothing but a little girl. He wasn't sure how the separatists would react to a request to act against her, and he needed to keep them on side. They'd learn how dangerous the Devil was soon enough, then they'd target her regardless.
His last and most important target had been that woman, the one that had ripped out their intelligence network in the Empire. Sophia Zerbist.
He'd been surprised when she'd seen her accompany Prince Wilhelm to the Southern continent, he'd rather expected that as Canaris' protégée she would rebuild their intelligence network back in Burlun. However, that she was here not only gave credence to his theory that she was somehow controlling the little prince, but also gave them an ideal opportunity to remove her as a potential threat.
He just wished he'd have the chance to see it through to the end himself, he disliked leaving loose ends but his time here was almost at an end. Once he'd established the necessary connections so that the nomads could effectively share their information with both the new Commonwealth commander and General De Lugo, he would be off the Unified States.
It seemed the Government wanted to buy a suspicious number of "precise pocket watches and armoured tractors" and he was to assist in the negotiations.
The Unified States of America he thought feeling slightly despondent, it seemed he would have to wait a while longer before he could finally enjoy his favourite beverage. The Americans were hardly famous for hosting afternoon tea. Unless you counted Boston harbour of course.
September 24th Unified Year 1925
Romel's temporary command post, 20 miles outside Port of Turus, Al-Sahrā Desert
Tanya drained of the water from her canteen, stopping to savour the last of her daily ration to ensure that not a single drop was wasted. She'd known on an intellectual level how important the life-giving liquid was, especially for desert survival, but it had taken the blistering sands of the Al-Sahrā to really hammer the lesson home.
Water rations that would have been more than satisfactory back home seemed woefully inadequate out here and ran out in a fraction of the time. Every soldier had felt the sting of the disappointment as they found their canteen empty when there was still more than half the day left before their next ration. Even those like Tanya, who had been exceedingly careful with her water allowance, had found it difficult to conserve their supply to last a full day.
It felt as though the dusty desert winds purposely cut at her throat, as if some unseen force was tempting her to take a drink. Then, as if to mock the gesture, the sand would rob the moisture from her lips the moment she removed her canteen from her mouth. Meanwhile, the intense sun burned the skin and forced your body to sweat profusely in the vain attempt to regulate your body temperature. Tanya often felt as though she were perspiring much more liquid than she was consuming, although she knew if that were the case, she would have lost consciousness before now.
Fortunately, she and most of the task force had been issued with desert uniforms which went some way towards offsetting the heat, if not the ever-prevailing sense of thirst. Aside from a colour scheme that made them infinitely less noticeable than the usual dark green, it boasted lighter and more breathable material and short sleeves to allow a little extra airflow.
The Letzenbourg troops hadn't been so lucky. Unlike the professional Imperial troops, they had not been issued with a suitable uniform for the heat. Whoever had designed the Letzenbourg military attire had never envisioned a world in which any of their militia would be forced to fight outside their own borders. If they had, they would have probably reconsidered the colour scheme. They hadn't needed to account for extreme weather when designing the gear since the little country enjoyed relatively mild weather all year round.
Despite the additional funding of their patron and the plethora of nonstandard and additional equipment each member carried, at least according to Wilhelm's voluminous amount of paperwork. Wilhelm's private army of mages had arrived with possibly the most inappropriate apparel for the climate and had needed to adapt to simply survive the heat. Hence his silly-looking robes.
Although she was thankful for her own cooler desert attire, it was still uncomfortably hot no matter what you were wearing. She was becoming more and more frustrated with the near-constant sticky sensation of wearing her sweaty uniform all day. Not to mention the uncomfortable feeling, and smell, of taking off her boots when she was finally off duty. What she really wanted was a bath and a fresh uniform but at the moment that was nothing but a fanciful dream.
Still, things weren't all bad.
She paused for a moment to look over at the setting sun as she made her way across the camp, allowing herself a moment of introspection as she enjoyed the view. Despite the uncomfortable heat, it had been a good couple of days. The campaign was off to a good start, she'd barely seen Wilhelm, and she'd been given an unexpected chance to impress General Romel with her organisational skills.
They had spent ten of the last twelve days on the move. General Romel had been keen to begin his strike on the Free Republic's forces before they could re-organise, and the first step was capturing somewhere to use as a staging point. Some had still wanted to press on towards the canal, but the fools had been shouted down. Attacking the Canal while several hundred thousand Francois troops were preparing to hit you in the rear was suicidal. Besides, they had no troops to spare for an occupying force.
Romel preferred the safer option of hitting the Republic, splitting the enemy forces into manageable chunks and taking them out piece by piece. Tanya fully supported the idea; bullying small group of Republicans sounded infinitely safer than taking on another numerically superior foe. They'd been lucky that the Allied Kingdom was unprepared, but that luck wouldn't last forever. They'd already had reports of their navy steaming across the southern sea to deliver reinforcements. This war would be won with speed and ferocity, not territorial gains.
They had initially advanced quickly and with little resistance, skirting along the Illdoan border as they headed back towards Republican territory. They'd even managed to raid a few lightly defended supply depots along the way to bolster the sporadic deliveries they received from the Ildoans.
However, their good fortune was not to last and as Wilhelm began reporting increased activity in the rear, they also began suffering raids from suspiciously well-armed desert tribesmen. They suspected that someone had been giving out weaponry to the locals, but these tribesmen were experts at disappearing into the desert, so they had yet to confirm the theory.
Since the attacks were becoming more frequent, and they were approaching their target, Romel had decided to advance a little more cautiously. They had spent the last two days encamped in order to rest and regroup before the assault on the Turus naval base.
Tanya had been assigned to help Major von Leinburg organise some temporary defences along the western picket line. Unfortunately for poor Leinburg, he and several others had their heads taken off by snipers almost as soon as she had arrived. For once she had reason to be thankful for her small stature, as the ditch and sandbags hid her from view meaning she escaped the attack while the taller officers were cut down.
Major von Leinburg's misfortune had given her an ideal opportunity to gain the favour of the General, however. Since she was now the highest-ranking officer present at the picket, she had assumed command of his Kampfgruppe and quickly organised a counterattack to drive off their attackers. She had then taken great joy organising the work crews to create, what she believed to be, a much more efficient system of defences and much quicker than anyone had expected. She was sure the General would be impressed by her organisational talent, hopefully, he would remind the General staff of this too. It couldn't hurt to remind them that she had skills that would be ideal for a position in the rear.
She could just imagine her corner office in the General staff headquarters. Far from danger and never having to worry about not having enough water for a bath. Paradise.
She let out a contented sigh as she turned to continue her journey back to her tent, stifling a yawn as she made her way through the camp. The fatigue from the journey and her duties were starting to catch up with her and she was looking forward to a good night's sleep.
Her lodgings were fairly basic, most of the buildings in the village had been used for the command centre and storage for supplies meaning that the soldiers were all billeted in tents. As an officer, she enjoyed slightly larger accommodation than most and did not need to share her space like many of the lower ranks. She had partitioned her tent so that she had an office area in the front with a small desk for her paperwork and various other equipment. Meanwhile, the rear contained her bed, and a modicum of privacy was attained via the canvas sheet splitting the two sections.
As she approached her temporary home, her nostrils were greeted by the familiar scent of her favourite caffeinated beverage. However, the usually pleasant aroma of coffee was spoiled slightly, as whoever had made it had obviously left it on the stove too long and the precious liquid was beginning to burn.
"What a waste." She murmured to herself as she lifted the flap of her tent. "At least it isn't my…"
She paused as she stared at the little trench stove burning in the corner of her tent; the aroma of burning coffee filling the air. Next to it was a familiar small tin of her favourite coffee which should have been sitting safely at the bottom of her kit bag. It had been a gift from her old classmate Major Ugar, and although Wilhelm had brought her more exotic and expensive blends, the brand remained her favourite.
She felt a familiar anger bubble up in her stomach as she crossed the room to turn off the stove to prevent any further waste of her favourite treat. Someone had been going through her things. She knew Visha wouldn't enter her tent without permission; none of her men would. She could only think of one person who would dare be so disrespectful. She felt her ire rise further as a vision of the culprit came to mind. She could already imagine that infuriating smug little grin of his spread across his face.
A quick glance around the front section of the tent revealed no more evidence of the little trespasser but as she inspected the tent, she heard movement from behind the canvas partition. Carefully she crept towards the noise, taking care to be as quiet as possible. She wasn't yet sure why the boy had decided to go through her things, but she was determined to catch him in the act.
Let's see if your precious reputation can survive proof that you're nothing but a lying little thief. She thought vindictively as she flung the flap open. I can't wait to see the look on your face.
She'd anticipated seeinga panicked Wilhelm rummaging through her underwear or something, like a character from one of those cheap manga's she'd so often seen people reading in her previous life. Or perhaps finding him stood confidently waiting for her with that irritating self-assured grin he wore when he was up to some sort of mischief. However, what she actually saw caught her completely off guard.
"What the hell?" Tanya murmured incredulously under her breath as she found the slumbering form of Wilhelm laid haphazardly across her camp bed at the far side of the tent.
She felt herself staring at him dumbfounded as he snored softly, occasionally muttering something unintelligible as he rolled onto his side to find himself a more comfortable sleeping position. Her mind could not fathom that someone could be so brazen as to walk into someone's private quarters, attempt to make a pot of coffee, then sleep in their bed without the owner's permission. It seemed utterly inconceivable that someone lacked the basic social understanding that such a trespass was unacceptable.
The lingering spectre of the Salaryman was horrified by this intrusion. Privacy was a prized possession in Japan. The density of the population meant that an unspoken agreement existed in society that what little personal space and privacy an individual could attain was respected without question. It was practically sacrosanct!
There had been several times when the Salaryman had tactfully ignored certain sounds coming through the thin apartment walls or resisted the urge to look at other people's phones on the subway out of respect for that privacy. Space was so tight you gave people that courtesy. Wilhelm's actions were an anathema to all of that. Only a criminal would enter someone's space uninvited like this!
Tanya had learned as she grew up in this new world that other cultures were less strict on such things, but there was still a certain amount of respect for an individual's right to space for themselves. This was especially true for those born female, who were expected to maintain a certain amount of modesty.
Yet here was Wilhelm, ignoring all of society's rules as though they didn't apply to him. Sleeping snugly on her cot as though he belonged here, and she was somehow the intruder. He must have no concept of shame she concluded, how else could someone of his social standing not understand such basic social rules?
No, he must be doing it to purposely aggravate me again, she thought, feeling the familiar ire that Wilhelm so often elicited rise inside her once again. There's no way someone can unintentionally be so irritating.
Her anger propelled her forward and she reached out as her fingers itched to wrap themselves around the brat's collar and throw him out of her personal domain. However, a cautionary voice in her hindbrain forced her to stop before she reached the camp bed.
She'd been in this situation before. Back on the Rhine she'd had the ignominious task of getting the bratty royal out of bed and had quickly found it to be a far more dangerous undertaking than gently shaking a child awake. Wilhelm had a paranoid streak a mile wide, it was surprising that her entrance hadn't already woken him. He may have been reckless on the battlefield but elsewhere he was fanatically careful about his own security.
He was a light sleeper, and she knew from experience he habitually slept with his pistol within easy reach. The last time she had woken him she'd ended up staring down the barrel of that gun and she had no compulsion to put herself in that situation again. Particularly when all that stood between her and a bullet in the brain was the already unstable mental state of a drowsy Wilhelm.
She ran a cautious eye over the slumbering boy, perhaps she could disarm him before she woke him.
He'd abandoned his white desert robes for the moment and without the shroud he looked oddly exposed as he lay diagonally across her bed, his boots dangling over the side. He was clearly comfortable, and he wore a content smile as he slumbered. He was sleeping like a baby, looking as innocent as he usually pretended to be.
Someone, most probably Christina, had altered the little captain's uniform to better suit the extreme heat. Although how she had found the time Tanya didn't know.
Much like her own uniform, the sleeves on his shirt and legs on his trousers had been cut short, showing his skinny arms and legs, his pale skin now tanning slightly due to exposure to the sun. He still wore the Letzenbourg black and red, an unwise colour choice for the desert in Tanya's opinion, however, it was now only the shirt rather than the thicker tunic that usually went over the top. The adjustments had been professionally done and doubtlessly cooler than the original. Tanya would have been willing to believe it was an official uniform if she didn't know better.
She swept her gaze down his arm and found his hand resting softly over his holster, fingers curled slightly around the handle of his pistol. Meanwhile, his sword lay in its scabbard on the opposite side, untouched but within easy reach. Tanya knew the boy could probably draw the blade just as quickly as the gun if he were provoked.
As she'd suspected he was ready to strike if anything were to take him unawares and she couldn't be sure if his brain would overrule the instinct to attack if she had startled him. She had been right to be wary.
Suddenly he began to move, and Tanya felt herself tense as she watched his fingers slowly tighten over the grip of his pistol. She prepared herself to throw herself out of the way but soon felt herself let out a sigh of relief as the boy's fingers left the pistol as he reached up to rub his eyes.
He let out a yawn as he sat up rubbing his eyes and blinking the sleep from them drowsily. He glanced around sleepily, and their eyes met, causing a small, contented smile to form on the boy's face.
"Ah Major, you're back." The boy yawned innocently and amazingly without a trace of insincerity in his voice. "I was waiting for you to return, but I must have nodded off."
"Nodded off? What the Hell are you doing in here in the first place?" She yelled, unwilling to believe this wasn't some fresh attempt to upset her. However, the way Wilhelm stared back at her, blinking with genuine tired confusion made her doubt exactly how calculated this attempt at annoyance was. He didn't seem to understand the nature of her displeasure.
"I came to give you my report about the rear-guard action." He began explaining, confusion staining his tired features. "I've already told the General, but you ordered that I should also report in person. Visha told me you were at the picket line and wouldn't be back at the command centre today, so I thought I'd meet you here."
Tanya scanned his word for any hint of duplicity, a skill that had become almost automatic during her dealings with the little captain. It was true that she had ordered him to report to her after he returned. She would have preferred if he'd come to her before the General to be sure he wasn't omitting anything he should have reported, however, that wouldn't have been possible while she was out by the defences.
She didn't get the sense that he was lying. However, she knew the boy well enough that just because he wasn't lying didn't mean he was sharing all the details. Besides, none of this explained why he was on her bed or going through her things.
"I don't recall giving you permission to make yourself at home in my tent, and what makes you think you can go through my things?" She questioned, holding eye contact in order to better gauge his response.
"Huh? Your things? I came in to make some coffee for your return, I don't usually use my ration and Sophia managed to get some of the good stuff so…"
Wilhelm's words trailed off as he sniffed the air, obviously smelling the burnt coffee for the first time. He cursed before pushing past her and into the other partition towards the stove. Fearing his escape Tanya turned to follow but almost tripped as her boot caught the strap of her kitbag. It seemed to be untouched and sat precisely where she had left it, causing her to doubt her earlier suspicions. A quick inspection proved that her beloved coffee was still there, and she quickly repacked it and followed the little captain into the other partition.
"Damn! Sorry, I don't usually make it myself, Christina normally handles it. I'll get it cleaned up." The boy apologised as he fussed over the coffee pot, the inside no doubt now filled with a thick and hardened mess.
Tanya began to wonder if her suspicions were unjust, perhaps she had gotten so used to mistrusting the boy that she was seeing alternative motives when there were none. She hoped not, paranoia was a symptom of an illogical state of mind, and she'd hate to think she was losing her rational outlook on things.
No, there's still something that doesn't make sense here.
"Why were you in my bed?" She asked injecting a hint of menace into her voice as she snatched the coffee pot from his hands and placed it on the table. She couldn't think of any reason why he should have been in her sleeping area.
Wilhelm at least had the decency to look slightly ashamed and he was unable to continue meeting her gaze as his face began to redden. She'd caught him, he couldn't explain this one away. You're losing your touch Wilhelm, you used to be a much better liar.
"I'm sorry about that, I really didn't mean to fall asleep, I just wanted to sit down for a minute." He mumbled, struggling to find his words as he reddened slightly, "I was tired, we've been deployed for days. I only sat down for a moment, it was comfortable, and it smelled nice…"
The boy's words trailed off as he reddened further, and Tanya searched his expression once again. He wasn't lying, she was certain of it. He was genuinely embarrassed about being found here. Until now she hadn't thought he was capable of such an emotion; but why sit on her bed at all?
"Why there? There's a chair by the desk over there." She asked pointing at her small workspace.
"I…I didn't want to disrupt your desk. I thought you might think I was going through your things if you found me by your paperwork." He began uncomfortably, ironically echoing precisely what she had thought when she had first entered her tent. "I'm sorry Tanya, I just wanted to try and get back on good terms again. I thought I'd have some coffee waiting for you when you came back and…"
He let his words trail off again as he stared at the ground with a dejected look and Tanya cursed herself. It seemed that this all was a misunderstanding and she had taken her suspicions too far; rather than trying to annoy her he had been trying to do the opposite. It had been another foolish misunderstanding, something that annoyed her even more than a difficult Wilhelm. She had jumped to conclusions before properly examining the evidence, she'd made a mistake. She hated mistakes.
She regarded Wilhelm once more, partly in the hope of finding something to relieve her of any blame in this. She could see none; however, he looked utterly exhausted, if he had an ulterior motive, it was likely just to get some rest. A request she would have to honour if she didn't want to develop a reputation for being too cruel on her subordinates.
She felt a pang of sympathy for him however, he still wasn't used to acting like a subordinate and his actions weren't unlike that of an over-enthusiastic intern. The implementation may have been lacking, but it seemed as though the intention had been to be helpful. It would be important not to dampen any enthusiasm he had to please a superior if she were to turn him into a useful resource. So, reluctantly, she decided it would be best to drop the matter for now.
"Very well, give me your report." She said with a sigh, feeling oddly pleased to see Wilhelm snap her the only proper salute she'd ever seen him perform.
She listened as he gave a relatively concise description of his company's activities for the last few days. Much like the main group it had been fairly uneventful for the first few days, although they did catch sight of several watchers at a distance. However, as the days passed, it seemed they too had been victims of hit and run attacks from the desert tribesmen and it seemed they had been even better armed.
"It's definitely some sort of new anti-mage rifle." Wilhelm explained, "Well a 14mm anti matériel gun if you want to be precise, but I doubt they bought it here for Romel's armour. We managed to capture one if you want to examine it. We suspect it was made by the Allied Kingdom, although the people using them certainly weren't."
This was concerning, if the Allied Kingdom was supplying the locals to fight for them, they could be targeted anywhere, even in neutral Illdoan territory. Since these new enemies were essentially insurgents, they wouldn't respect international boundaries or agreements.
She would also have to take a look at this rifle later, it was always wise to know what the enemy was throwing at you.
Wilhelm was right about it being designed to take out mages though, a 14mm rifle could penetrate light armour but it wouldn't cause much damage to the machine itself. However, it was a natural enemy to a mage. Their shields could shrug off quite a lot of splash damage but anything high piercing was dangerous and could pass through the barrier with little resistance. Even the higher output of the type 97 would be no match for it. Dr Schugal would doubtlessly say that the type 95 could handle it with ease, but she didn't like the idea of field testing the theory for him.
"Sophia's barrier took a glancing hit and it was almost as though it wasn't there." The boy continued, frowning at the thought of losing his subordinate. "It's fortunate whoever was shooting wasn't a good marksman, the shot went wide, and she was unhurt. It would be deadly in the wrong hands, fortunately, it seems to have a low reload speed and it's unwieldy. We didn't let them take a second shot."
That was some good news at least, it sounded as though as long as they weren't taken unawares this new rifle wouldn't be too much of a threat. Mages moved fast, especially those using imperial equipment, it would be difficult for any marksmen to hit them while they were on the move. Its size meant it would be unlikely to be carried by a mage either, where would you store the ammo? And how could you effectively aim such an awkward weapon on the move?
She became aware that Wilhelm was staring at her, still wearing a concerned frown. Evidently, the thought of losing one of his closest subordinates had shaken him slightly. However, she got the sense that this concern had shifted its target slightly.
"I heard about Koenig" He began softly, as though treading on eggshells. "I understand you haven't seen him since he was injured, and you have yet to sign off on the orders to send him home."
The boy's words struck her more than she could have expected, and she felt an unusual sense of unease in her stomach. It was true that she had yet to do these things, but she had been very busy with other duties. She simply hadn't had the time.
No that isn't true, a good manager makes the time for such important matters she corrected herself, not allowing herself the luxury of hiding behind excuses.
The doctors had confirmed her assumption that his injury was serious enough that he would never see front line service again. He would be sent home and likely given a quiet office post in the rear, probably a secretarial job with less pay and no chance of advancement. It was essentially a charitable donation from the state. The organisation would create this job for him out of pity and even then, it was only because he was an officer. His career was effectively over.
The Empire had no welfare system as of yet, most injured soldiers were sent to live in hospices and live out their days relying on the charity of others. But then, what the military was doing for Koenig was no different really. Tanya couldn't help but feel sorry for him, being reduced to a burden on society was a fate worse than death.
Koenig had been one of her best and had the potential to go far. However, the injury had snatched that chance from him and robbed her of one of her precious resources. He'd probably have to re-learn basic skills such as writing or even using a knife and fork all over again. She hated that one of hers had been brought so low.
She'd put off seeing him as she hadn't wanted to break the news to him. She had no qualms about firing someone for not performing, or even laying people off because the company no longer had use for them. The Salaryman had plenty of experience with these, but she'd never had to consign someone to a dead-end position where they would have to live off handouts for simply doing their job.
"If it helps, I can put in a good word with a few influential people." Wilhelm said, as if reading her thoughts, "Being a prince has its perks, maybe I can persuade them to put him in the instructor unit or something."
"If you must." She nodded, hiding her enthusiasm for the offer. She liked the idea; it was a much better use of his talents than shuffling paper somewhere. His skills and experience could be used productively at least. However, she wasn't about to let Wilhelm have the satisfaction of knowing that she appreciated the gesture. "At least you'll put your meddling to good use for once. You're dismissed".
"I'll get on it right away." Wilhelm smiled with a salute but without leaving the tent.
"Was there something else?" Tanya asked wearily, it was getting late now, and she really wanted to get some sleep.
"There was one other little thing." The little captain replied cautiously, his smile wavering slightly as the earlier embarrassment returned to his features. "There seems to have been a small problem with my company's equipment."
Tanya simply stared at him with a raised eyebrow.
"It seems that not all of the paperwork I submitted got through the service corps offices before we were deployed. None of my company has received our tents." He explained looking unusually sheepish. "They won't arrive for another few weeks. We hadn't noticed until now since we were deployed away from the main force."
Despite her fatigue, Tanya felt a wide grin pull at her face at the news. A less logical person might assume that this was karma or some divine punishment. Tanya knew that such things were fanciful nonsense, but she still took great pleasure in the knowledge that Wilhelm's childish actions back in Berlun had come back to bite him.
"Suffering the consequences of your own actions are we Wilhelm?" She asked innocently, suppressing a laugh. "Maybe if you hadn't been so difficult back home you wouldn't be in this mess. You and your company will just have to bunk up with the other soldiers, I'm sure someone will take pity on you."
"I've already managed to make arrangements for most of my troops." The little captain replied carefully, as though he were trying to find his next words. "The rest of the battalion were very generous when they found out about the mix-up."
Wilhelm paused to gather his thoughts and Tanya began to feel slightly uneasy. She was used to the boy's confident and blasé attitude and usually, words and lies flew from him effortlessly. It was never a good sign when she saw him struggling to compose his sentences like this, it was an obvious sign that she wasn't going to like whatever came next.
"I rather hoped that I could perhaps stay with you."
Since their first meeting, Wilhelm von Hozollern had managed to render her speechless on multiple occasions. As far as Tanya was concerned, it was one of his least endearing qualities. However, compared to those earlier instances this was something else. Her mouth hung open and her mind went blank as logic failed to construct a reason as to why the boy thought to make such a ridiculous request.
It's a joke, right? He thought he'd find some way to ridicule me before he left right?
She studied his features once again, expecting to see the glint of mischief and self-assurance in his insidious green orbs but she found nothing. Instead, she found an almost pathetic pleading look accompanied by an awkward beseeching smile.
He's serious!?
"Out of the question!" She snapped quickly, feeling her cheeks redden in a peculiar automatic response to the situation.
"I realise it's an unusual request, and I know there's already talk about us but–" the boy began begging before Tanya cut him off.
"I said no! You can stay with Weiss or one of the other male officers."
"I've never really been comfortable sleeping around other men." He explained slowly shuffling uncomfortably, "Even those my own age, it feels wrong."
"What are you talking about? What about when you're on a mission or that time you were playing soldier on the rhine, Private Ansbach?" She questioned using the boy's once pseudonym causing him to wince slightly.
"I usually try to keep my distance from the others when I can. And in truth I never slept in the barracks on the Rhine, I snuck back to my room in the mansion." He explained awkwardly, looking as though he expected a reprisal for the confession. "Usually, I'd stay with Christina and Sophia, I feel better knowing they're nearby. I'd stay with them, but it's already crowded in Visha's tent."
Usually, Tanya would have taken a certain amount of perverse joy at how awkward the boy looked as he tried to explain himself. She hadn't seen him look so uncomfortable since he was forced to take demotion. However, since his discomfort was projecting directly at her, she felt almost as affected by it as he was. Almost like she too was trapped by it.
"Besides, I'd rather my nightmares weren't made public knowledge." He continued gloomily.
Tanya felt a headache building in her temples, she really didn't want to deal with this today. Maybe it would be easier to just let him set up a bedroll in the corner somewhere. She couldn't exactly leave him with nowhere to sleep, she could only imagine how bad it would make her look to her superiors.
What the hell am I thinking? Am I actually considering this stupid request?
"The answer is no Wilhelm!" She snapped, unwilling to compromise. Wilhelm was nothing if not resourceful, he'd find something.
"I suppose I'll try to find somewhere else then." The boy said looking deflated.
Tanya felt an unusual feeling of guilt in the pit of her stomach, as the boy's shoulders slumped. She chose to believe it was some lingering corruption from when she had used the type 95 and tried to ignore it. It was probably better to get Wilhelm out now before the corruption caused her to reconsider.
An unusual request indeed, what an understatement she thought as she began ushering him from her tent, but another thought tugged at her mind. What else had he said?
"What did you mean talk about us?" She asked but Wilhelm stopped abruptly and turned as if he had heard something.
Suddenly, she found herself being thrown backwards as Wilhelm shoved them both to the ground. She opened her mouth to protest when a hail of fire ripped through the fabric of the tent, one of the bullets tearing through one of the wooden supports causing the whole thing to collapse on their heads. There was a moment of confusion, and a yell went up from inside the camp as Romel's soldiers began swarming to the site of the attack.
"Ambushers have broken through the southern picket line!" She heard from somewhere outside as she lay under the site of her wrecked shelter.
Tanya cursed as she disentangled herself from the wreckage, ignoring Wilhelm's shouts as she rushed to the command centre to check the situation. To her relief, the raiding party was being swiftly chased off by the guards and it seemed she had no reason to intervene. Once convinced a second attack wasn't imminent, she returned to her tent and stared at it with dismay.
The stove had still been warm when the canvas fell on top of it, and it had started to burn while everyone was distracted by the attack. She could see that someone had attempted to beat away the flames with limited success, succeeding in doing as much damage to the frame as dousing the flames. It was clear that as a shelter, this tent was no longer fit for purpose. It seemed she too was now homeless.
She sighed heavily as Wilhelm sidled up beside her, unsurprised that the boy had both managed to find his way out safely or that he had chosen this moment to return to her side.
"I'll let you share my tent if you want. If you can wait a few weeks for it to arrive."
Author's notes
Hi everyone and thank you as always for reading.
I probably would have had this out much sooner. However, it has been very hot here this past week and I have not dared turn on my computer for very long in case either me or it overheats haha.
I'm beginning to get a little worried that spending so much time in the south is starting to stretch Will and Tanya's story too much so I'm going to try and speed things along a little if I can.
Regarding the 14mm anti matériel rifle. In the LN it's supposed to be 40mm, however that is basically a canon or at best a grenade launcher, so it didn't seem right for something that is supposed to be a rifle in the 1920s (or 40s as YS tech is all over the place). I did some research, and the British were using 14 mm anti-armour rifles in WW2. I'm also told that 14 and 40 are very similar in Japanese so I think it may have possibly been a translation error in the English version.
Also, a big thank you to my Beta reader Vickers-Vimy-1919 for his advice on rearranging certain parts of this chapter. I think it made a big difference, or at least I hope it did haha.
I hope you enjoyed the chapter and thank you for reading and reviewing.
Xanen