Disclaimer: I do not own Youjo Senki
Further note: This story's discussion thread is on SpaceBattles Forum's Creative Writing section.
Chapter 2
In the end, the Military Police didn't take me far. There was a fairly sturdy prison not too far from Western Command HQ. It was mostly used to house important POWs, but a small section was devoted to the cause of incarcerating Imperial lawbreakers.
While my accommodations were no VIP suite, it could have been much worse. The cell was a proper room with attached bath and toilet (but no windows), the blankets were adequate, and the bed actually had a mattress. True, the mattress was thin and hard and less comfortable than sleeping in my tent, but I supposed in this case it was the thought that counted. A small desk and chair rounded things off.
Since I had been halfway expecting to be thrown into a cold bare cell with a bucket to do my business in, I took it as a good sign. Clearly, I was merely being held until the lawyers could check that I hadn't actually broken any laws. Confident in my own interpretation, I gave it a week, maybe a month at the latest, before I was out and restored to my command.
Sure enough, the first time I was interviewed about my actions, the very next day, it was a fairly professional experience. My interrogator was only interested in the facts, and I was all for giving him the facts. The only part I lied about was the cause of the Type 95's detonation, and since no one could possibly prove me false, I felt no nervousness at all. It still took a while though - as I said, the interrogator was a professional, and he spent hours coming at the event from every possible angle. He didn't seem at all put out when he failed to trip me up, so I simply took it as him being thorough.
The next few days were boring. Since I had been allowed some personal effects, I spent the days lazing about in the bed in my pajamas and reading. I also received visits from Weiss, Neumann, Koenig, and Visha. Apparently the rest of the 203rd were also being interrogated. Since none of them knew anything incriminating, I encouraged them to go along with it. After all, they were my direct subordinates, it would reflect badly on me if they got a reputation for not cooperating with the authorities. It was also flattering how worried some of them, particularly Visha, seemed to be about me. I assured them all that my actions were legal, and I would undoubtedly be released once the investigation concluded. Hopefully none of them would do anything foolish.
Four days into my incarceration, Colonel Lergen showed up to question me. I took this as an excellent sign - my strongest allies in the military were in Berun HQ, and if they were starting to move then it meant good things for me. In spite of the initial rocky start to our relationship, Lergen in particular was someone I considered an exemplar of Imperial efficiency. With him involved, things will undoubtedly be resolved swiftly.
Interestingly enough, Lergen only touched lightly on the facts of the case. He seemed far more interested in my state of mind, both before and after the event. It took me a moment to figure out why - I'd just gone against a superior officer and succeeded in a huge gamble, only to be imprisoned for my efforts. Plus, according to the story I was putting out, I'd nearly been killed when the Type 95 - a device the Empire had forced on me - malfunctioned. Given all this, it wouldn't be surprising if I bore resentment towards the Empire. Having divined the source of his concern, I set about reassuring him of my loyalty to the Empire, and my readiness to do it all over again if it meant bringing glory to the Fatherland. I have to say, Lergen had an excellent poker face, but since he departed without expressing any skepticism, I felt I had succeeded in assuaging his doubts.
Berun Military HQ, July 21, 1925
"Rudersdorf, care to explain why Major Degurechaff is still behind bars? The facts of her case are clear, a tribunal to clear her is merely a formality." Zettour was normally not one to vent his spleen at his longtime friend and ally, but since as Degurechaff's direct superior he'd been forced to maintain some distance from the case, Rudersdorf was the one he'd been relying on to make sure the complaints by Western Command were consigned to the trash where they belonged.
Rudersdorf gave a deep sigh, then inviting Zettour to sit, he poured both of them a glass of brandy. After they had both taken a sip and Zettour had calmed himself, Rudersdorf spoke. "I agree with you, old friend. Unfortunately, the Emperor does not."
"What does the Emperor have to do with this?"
"Everything," came the growled reply. "You are of course aware of the devastation at Brest."
"But of course. Three quarters casualties for the army those traitorous frogs tried to slip by us, and most of the rest captured. A glorious victory. Or do you mean the damage to the city itself? I admit, the destruction of the waterfront is distressing, but such things happen in war."
"There were over 5,000 civilian casualties, Zettour. And if the blast had happened closer to the city it would have been ten times worse."
"But it didn't. And even if it had, it was not a deliberate act but a malfunctioning piece of equipment. Finally, Brest was a city occupied by enemy forces that refused to abide the armistice agreement and instead fired on our soldiers. Rudersdorf, stop all this nonsense and tell me what this is really about."
"Fine. What it is about, is that a young hotheaded aerial mage ignored all orders, and in a fit of unauthorized aggression, destroyed a large chunk of a major city. This time, it was an enemy city. The next time, it might be Berun."
"What?! That's absurd! Lergen's report was clear that the Major's loyalty is unshakable!"
"The same report that points out how she is completely unrepentant about her actions, and is only sad that she can't do it again due to the loss of the Type 95?"
"Exactly! Without the Type 95, she couldn't do it again if she wanted to! And last I checked, we were no closer to creating another one than we were to flying to the moon!"
"I know, Zettour, and I agree with you. But the Emperor does not. He is extremely concerned, and when the Emperor is concerned, the ministers panic. Fear is not logical, and I am afraid that ever since the news reached him the Emperor has been extremely stubborn and irrational on the subject of Major Degurechaff. Of course, the international situation makes things even worse. The Emperor's cousin has been bending his ear about how the Allied Kingdom might be forced to declare all-out war if the Empire does not make a few reassurances. The Rus and the Americans have been making similar noises, and even our Ildoan allies have been looking shaky. The truth is, the other countries are terrified the Empire might repeat the Brest bombing - and the Emperor is terrified that the only soldier known to be capable of it has also demonstrated her willingness to ignore inconvenient orders."
"So what does he intend to do about the Major."
"The plan, if you can call it that, is to get her to confess to lesser charges. Something that can be used to justify her dismissal from the armed forces. It will also act as a sop to the rest of the world while we work to convince them that we haven't actually developed an explosive capable of devastating entire cities."
Zettour scoffed. "As if Degurechaff will do any such thing. She is nothing if not stubborn. And which fool in the army is going to be brave enough to try that on a holder of the Silver Wings?"
Rudersdorf took a deep breath. Now came the really bad part. "No one. Which is why the Empire has already ordered the case handed over to the Secret Police. I don't know the full details, but I am told they are confident their man can extract the necessary confession."
The temperature seemed to drop into the negatives. "Torture," came the enraged whisper from Zettour. "They are proposing to torture an 11-year-old girl to extract a false confession."
"I was given the impression that her age and gender will only make things easier. And I believe the phrase in favor these days is 'enhanced interrogation'." Looking at the frozen visage of his friend Rudersdorf gave a sigh, and continued speaking in a more encouraging tone, "You mustn't lose hope, my friend. This situation cannot and will not be kept quiet. I will ensure it. Once word gets out how one of our greatest heroes is being treated, there will be a storm of outrage. We will rescue her from this, just have faith."
"Oh, it's not her I'm worrying about." came the snarled reply. "What I'm wondering is, exactly at what point during this whole experience will the Major decide her loyalty to the Empire is misplaced? If that point ever comes, may God have mercy on us all, for Tanya von Degurechaff won't."
Military Prison, Rhineland, July 23, 1925
The click of the opening lock might as well have been a gunshot in the still of the night. Long frontline experience meant I was awake in an instant. So, I was not quite caught by surprise when the door to my cell slammed open and two large men barged in.
By the time they reached me, I was on my feet. It was hard to see details in the dim light coming in from the door, but neither men wore a military uniform, and that was all I needed to know. A quick tug left my blanket wrapped around the head and body of the nearest assailant. Then a quick trip and shove sent him colliding with his companion.
The second man pushed the wrapped assailant to the ground and stepped over him towards me, swinging a nightstick. Unfortunately for him, he was clearly not used to fighting someone of my stature, and I had no difficulty ducking low and getting deep into his guard.
Now, I should mention that it is a common belief that mages can't cast spells without a computational jewel. This is not true, particularly for B-rank mages and above. It's just that using magic without a computational jewel is so difficult that almost no mage bothers to learn. But then, most mages weren't an eight-year-old girl suffering through the rigors of basic training. The minute they covered body reinforcement spells in magic theory, I'd worked furiously to figure out how to apply it to myself manually. The fact that I was near top of my class even before we were issued our computation jewels was a testament to my success.
I hadn't had cause to rely on my discovery for three years now, but it was liking riding a bicycle. It was all coming back to me. That meant, when I rose up and put my full strength into a driving uppercut straight into my attacker's family jewels, I hit way harder than a small 11-year-old had any business doing.
I could have sworn I heard a small sob as my target folded up and emptied his stomach. Dancing away from the splatter, I plucked the nightstick from his unresisting hand. By this time, the other man had managed to free his head from my blanket and get to his knees, which put him at the perfect height to receive a full-body swing to the jaw. It might have dislocated his jaw, and it definitely knocked him out. Turning around to his retching compatriot, I put that fellow out of his misery with a couple of judicious strikes placed behind his ear.
As I paused to take stock, I realized we had a witness. Standing in the doorway, looking shocked, was the Lieutenant in charge of the prison's night watch. Even though he hadn't drawn his sidearm, I still dropped the nightstick and raised my hands to show I meant him no harm. "Lieutenant!" I cried, genuine relief in my voice. "These thugs broke into my room and attacked me! Can you please take them into custody and find out how they sneaked in?"
"They didn't. Sneak in, I mean..." He brought himself short at my narrowing eyes and spoke hurriedly, "They're Secret Police. Some Colonel came by and is demanding to speak with you, and sent them to escort you to him."
Secret Police? I'd never dealt with them before, although I had seen them around occasionally. Did I just beat up a pair of police officers? Looking closely, I realized that while they were not wearing military uniforms, they were in uniforms of a sort.
"If they were police why didn't they announce themselves as such? You don't just barge into a lady's room unannounced!" I hissed furiously. Part of my anger came from fear - no matter how justified, law enforcement always looks dimly on harm to their own. Now, due to these two's incompetence, I found myself in an awkward position.
Luckily, it seemed the Lieutenant agreed with me. "You're telling me! When they asked me to open the door, I didn't expect them to just charge in like that! I assure you ma'am, I'd never have allowed something like this to happen if I'd known."
Was that a hint of inter-service rivalry I detect? "Of course Lieutenant. You've been nothing but professional during my stay under your care. These two clowns could certainly stand to learn a thing or two from you. Now, I believe you mentioned something about a Colonel waiting for me? Why don't you take me to him, then send someone along to clean up this mess."
"Yes, ma'am. Um... what should I tell him happened here...?"
Ah, he was clearly worried he might get the blame. Well, it wouldn't hurt to earn the gratitude of one of my jailers. Prison movies in my past life all emphasized the importance of having friends among the guards. "Don't worry Lieutenant, I'll be sure to let the Colonel know this had nothing to do with you. You just get me to him."
"Very well ma'am. Would you like to change?"
While I didn't want to appear in front of a Secret Police Colonel in my pajamas, I also didn't want to spend a single moment longer with two semi-conscious men and the stink of vomit. I compromised by tying up my hair in a quick ponytail, throwing on the top of my dress uniform, and affixing to it my Silver Wings Assault Badge.
As I was led to this late-night meeting, I was furiously planning my strategy. Even in ordinary circumstances, the sudden presence of the Secret Police would have been a surprise. Their remit was primarily the search for political dissidents. Perhaps someone had taken my refusal to accept orders - even when it was within my rights to do so - as a sign of political unreliability? And now I'd complicated matters by manhandling two of their members. Unfortunately, I couldn't simply apologize - an apology might be seen as an acceptance of wrongdoing. No, I had to take the offensive, make sure the Colonel knew it was entirely a tragic misunderstanding brought on by his men following incorrect procedure. Hopefully, this Colonel would prove to be the reasonable sort.
When the Lieutenant knocked on the door of the meeting room, a gruff voice ordered us to come in. Stepping ahead, I went in first. The man in the room, sitting behind the desk, was dressed similarly to the other two, only with more gold braid on his shoulders. He was a sturdy looking fellow of average height with thinning black hair combed back, scarred knuckles, an aristocratic nose that had been broken at some point, and dark close set eyes. I fancied he could be quite intimidating if he tried, but the first thing to register in his eyes was surprise when he saw I was alone.
"Where is the escort?" he barked at the Lieutenant, who was still by the door.
"On their way to the infirmary." I spoke firmly.
His stern gaze settled on me as his visage darkened. I quickly moved to explain further. "I am afraid that instead of announcing themselves as members of the Secret Police, they simply chose to enter my room without warning." I then gave him my wide-eyed little-girl look as I continued, "I was so frightened when two strange men just showed up in my room - I had no idea what they intended, so I reacted badly. I do hope you won't hold it against me?"
His jaw clenched and for a moment he seemed speechless, then he said softly, "How... terrible. The infirmary you say?"
He still didn't look happy, but I guess no boss likes to be made to look like a fool by his subordinates. At least he seems to have accepted my explanation, so I let my tone grow more friendly, "Don't worry, I didn't hurt them too badly, they should make a full recovery. And I assure you, if I had known they were Secret Police, I certainly would not have treated them so poorly. I am always ready to cooperate with representatives of His Majesty's government."
There was a long enough pause that the silence grew a bit awkward. Looking around, I spotted a small stool in the middle of the room. That was quite thoughtful of him - most chairs were just a bit too tall for me to be comfortable in. After a glance at him to see if he would object, I sat down facing him and gave him my most professional smile. "Now Colonel, initial unpleasantness aside, I'm sure it's something quite urgent that led you to call on me at this time of night. How may I help you? I am, of course, at your service."