The Purpose of Conflict: Chapter Ten- The Fourth Dacian War V
Dispatch, Prime minsters office of the Principality of Dacia Armed Forces – Representative of the Unitary of Albion – Do Not Respond to This Telegram.
Prime minister Horváth,
Thank you for your assistance in our efforts. Your cooperation with our forces and devotion to Dacia deserves the highest honour.
Myself and my colleagues are immensely thankful for the sacrifices that you have endured for the sake of our cause. Your choice to voluntarily stay behind and remain as the head of government is one brimming with courage that few in this world can replicate. Surely you are aware of the risks and inevitable fate that resides for yourself, but that is the mark of a grand leader.
The evacuation of your wife and son has been arranged and they are securely in our company. At the time of writing the expedition brigade we provided is en route through Hiltria. The gentleman in charge of that unit has assured my head of intelligence that the pair is being treated with the utmost care, and I can assure you that will continue. Your wife and child are planned to be housed in the Republic. If you prefer, we can easily have them safely relocated in the Unitary if you believe challenging me is your best option. We have many systems in place to ensure the safety of our citizens.
If the above options are not satisfactory for their safety I can make a special arrangement on your behalf. Our colony state in the Unitary Congo State is equipped with a system to detour internal and external threats. I regret to add that their existence within would be kept a secret – as is in accordance with our colonial policies. Your son is a healthy young man, it would be possible for him to learn a trade in mining or fuel extraction. Hard work has always built strong character; would you not agree? It would not be as relaxed as the Republic, but I am certain you would agree it is better to be safe than content.
Do not attempt to escape on your own accord. That would only show the weakness of your nation rather than its sterling strength. The remainder of your time should be spent in office.
I advice as follows. Do not comply with any Imperial attempts of premature surrender. Now is the time to show the spirit of Dacians as they strangle the enemy while drowning in their own blood. What is recommended is the continued bleeding out Imperial and Invicta Alliance strength through resistance movements. Please talk with your cabinet that these movements are to survive past capitulation. We believe Mr. Tóth to be a useful candidate and one likely to take the mantel as the nations savour after the inevitable capitulation is to occur. Later agents will be in contact with him to aid, and if necessary, retrieve him to continue an efficient war effort against the Empire.
It is the last duty of your government to ensure Mr. Tóth's survival and unmolested freedom are ensured. However, you must ensure this is not explicitly made aware to the enemy or your countrymen. The Empire should only become aware of the mistake after it is too late for a correction.
As for yourself Prime minister. You must now continue to protect your state and our dealings. When we first established contact, we made it clear every aspect was to remain a secret. That has not changed. We entrust you to have skills in completing this task. Any records which we have not confiscated are to be destroyed.
I have no doubts you are committed to this task and more than capable of completing it. Your courage and bravery have been noted and your devotion cannot be called into question. While the war effort might not respect your sacrifices the men of my government are pleased with how you conducted yourself. Your efforts are commendable and inspiring to the Unitary and Fasces cause. Of which, we should all devote ourselves too entirely.
Signed Consul Robert Arcand
05/11/1924/ Odesa, Russy Federation / Temporary 566th Night Bomber Regiment Airfield / 19:55
Elizaveta Bershuninski looked at the photo of her beloved. A token to remember their wedding day when she could finally call Konstantin hers. It might have been her favourite variant of this image. Small enough to keep in the cockpit she sat in but large enough to glance at while in her fighter plane. It might have been poor form for a lieutenant colonel to break the rules, but if it assisted in her commitment to protect herself and her allies Elizaveta saw it as vital as the black canvas on her biplane's wings.
He had it commissioned when he got promoted to a commissar, back when he was clean-shaven, and she still had her hair. Elizaveta preferred her love to have a beard. It covered up that scar on his cheek that a Tsarist officer had given him during the revolution. It matched the one on his chest from the Akitsushiman conquest of Siberia. She was not even in the crest of adulthood yet, but that was what drove her the Russy Communist Party. Learning that her future husband was injured in that imperialist war only reassured her of the devotion to the Party.
It was a lesson forever engrained onto the physique of her other half. Through their ideology, all were rendered the same; the beginning process of creating a utopia. The only materialised ability that could guarantee equality among all the peoples of earth. That would not inflict unjust harms on the workers.
The worst enemies of the party were repugnant specimens. Most were simply misguided and blinded by years of capitalist propaganda and control, but the worst had willingly profited from the suffering of others and even enjoyed it. They were hardly even human in her eyes.
The faults of their past would need to become encouragement for the future; that was the best way to use their pain. It directed her through flight school, combat training and now it served her every time she went up in the air with her girls. Tonight, it would be no different, they fought against more imperialist powers, a fitting battle.
Elizaveta put the photo back in its safe nook in the lip of the airspeed indicator. Picking up her leather flight helmet and clipping the radio mouthpiece on before strapping it onto her cold scalp. It was an odd rule that personal objects were deemed distracting while a wires and microphone running up to her mouth were not.
"Radio check." Elizaveta flipped the corresponding switch on the cockpit radio. Answered by the female voices she commanded, each calling their plane out over the sound of revving engines. They were to take off at the fast-approaching hour mark. She herself guiding her aeroplane onto the runway. The only exterior mark she had to lead her girls in the form of a two-headed bear painted on the wings. A ray of hope to her pilots that their mother bear was there to protect and if necessary, die with them.
The all-woman troop was her responsibility, and she would keep to her pledge until death came for her. Outside of her husband, this was the only family she had. She had yet to achieve motherhood with the help of Konstantin. Their work was always incomplete, hence the delay. Her rank, aircraft and fellow women were the children she was yet to have. She would do anything to protect her family on this mission.
It was descriptively a scout mission, meaning the bomber units would be left behind. A condition that did not make this mission any easier. But that never deterred Elizaveta from serving the Party before.
"Comrades," Elizaveta took control away from the chatter and reminded them of the contents of the mission briefing. "Before his capture, our contact in Dacia informed us the Imperials are closing in on the Dacian capital. The vultures circle, but they are not invincible. Any and all who stand against the might of the Federation are to be slaughtered without remorse.
Remember, our directive is to acquire intelligence on their air and ground forces for the Federation, not to prevent the inevitable."
Ending on the colloquial war cry owned by the Red State. "Ura!"
"Ura!" The girls answered her in unison. Elizaveta could not be prouder of what she created. She loved her Konstantin, she loved the Party, but this team was as close to her heart as a bear was to her cubs. No matter the trial, she would do her duty to the Federation and these pilots.
"Radio silence will be maintained once we cross the border. Once we engage the Imperialist dogs we cut our engines to maintain the surprise. We pull out after they know we're there. Make the Party proud ladies."
05/11/1924/ Bucharest outskirts, Principality of Dacia / 2KM above ground level / 20:25
Tanya checked the loader of her rifle for a final time: still a spotless and pristine specimen, ready for use at the pull of the trigger. In a few minutes it would be time to prove the accuracy of that analysis.
The time had finally come to squash the Dacian threat. Although to brand them with such a title seemed too aggrandizing for the militia state. The Imperial army had crossed the mountains, the battalion had rooted out all insurgent nests and the Invicta Pact dominated the skies. Now all descended on the capital to put an end to this minor conflict in the wide array of the war. Such was the reason she was in flight, with the Empire's best mages to her sides and the best unit the Commonwealth could muster flying overhead.
Tanya had encased herself in high value human resources that would do all to protect themselves and by consequence, their major.
It was a loved circumstance; it was a shame she could only attain this for tonight. This would be infinitely more useful this would be for her on the Rhine or Norden fronts. Where the enemy was surmountable to an actual threat rather than an overblown training exercise.
After they took out the Dacians she would need to part ways with her Commonwealth human resources. It was unlikely they could again achieve this level of organization on the other, more chaotic fronts. That had to go off the improvable assumption that they would be stationed near each other and permitted to act in tandem.
The 203rd learned what they could from this confined time frame – all six weeks of it. The only thing she wanted was a meeting with Major Hanover. Something she could do in the brief period of peace in-between victory and their inevitable redeployment orders. That was a plan for the next day. Right now, the night was for conquest of the physical world, not the one of more practical knowledge.
Behind them was the Imperial vanguard, slow-moving compared to the breed with the ability to take flight. They were going to be the main attack force against the defenders dug in to defend the capital at any perceived cost. It saved the arduous task of tedious violence to those not affiliated with Tanya. Meaning their deaths would be of no consequence to her in the after-action report.
Their common enemy: the pitiful Dacian army. Battle-hardened without victory and talented as far as field experience would grant them. Never to be a contender for the Empire with this world's modern armaments. However, the rigours training of her countrymen would not grant them the emotional connection to defending one's home that the Dacians had. granted from the Rhine and Norden. The outcome of the battle was still not in doubt.
At least the regional commander allowed her to take the easiest job, backed up with Commonwealth air support no less. Being X must have been smitten to see her thriving in the mists of this chaos he allowed to happen.
The orb on her neck glowed from a communication formula. Using an inkling of mana to open the spell on her end, the varying voices of her battalion came through. Germanic mingling together minus one distinctive accent. The Albion major.
"Major Degurechaff."
"Major Hanover." Tanya tried to match his cheerful tone with a positive one of her own. "Have you reached the capital airspace?"
"Not quite, just wanted to say that we're not far behind. I'll have the Rupert contact you when were in position. Don't start anything until we get there."
Tanya smiled. "Don't worry. We'll save the fun parts for you." It would be best to use words that played to his attitude.
Tanya had no quarrels of holding the attack until the Major had arrived overhead. Then it would be time to show her capabilities to the Albions. No sooner had the thought materialised than the cue to slow down was visible.
"We're on top of the capital now Major. It looks like we have an easy fight in store for us."
"Is it as intelligence reported?" Hanover was serious at the mention of the mission. Not disregarding his happy attitude entirely but noticeably changing to her ears.
The Dacian capital looked eerily like their last visits and subsequent domination. The civilised interior was left intact. Trenches and field gun emplacements were dug surrounding the capital to make up the mote to the castle. No black-out command interrupted lanterns and electricity highlighting silhouette of buildings and barricaded streets.
"Cheers, we'll be there in a few minutes. Hold position until we arrive."
The communication formula ended with a unanimous cry of "Invicta!" from the various accents within the 27th. They would need to regroup, left waiting until they could commence the attack and finally end this war.
"What does invicta mean anyway?" Lieutenant Neumann submitted a question over the open radio air. Tanya preferred silence but permitted pre-battle banter. It was a tool to pass the time and destress the battalion.
"It doesn't sound like Albion."
"I think it's Latin."
"Invicta, it should translate to undefeated or invincible." Tanya informed her men, hoping it would stop some of the asinine comments.
"Sounds rather inspiring to tell everyone before a big battle." Neumann was ready to continue the conversation. Grantz chiming in afterwards.
"Victory or Valhalla. No other option for us."
"Don't believe that excuses any of you from doing your best to die for trinkets promised in the afterlife." Tanya got some reaffirmation in her taking back the narrative from spirituality. "After tonight there should be enough drink to entertain yourself."
Always satisfied by the prospect of violence and rewards, as expected of her Warhawks. Her vice commander Weiss confirmed her assessment.
"We need our own chant for the battalion." Causing unanimous approval and soon Tanya's orb was clogged with every voice making a suggestion. Every member making a bid for the best spontaneous idea.
"For the Empire!"
"Victory!"
"For the war effort!"
"For the Emperor!"
The most amusing to Tanya's ears was someone suggesting "Invicta" be repurposed for themselves. Hopefully, a joke and not a symptom of lacking creativity.
"Enough. There's a time and place for this." Tanya put a stop to the cavalcade before it became too irritating. Thankfully, the second in command that started this was backing her without encouragement.
"The Major is right." It was reassuring to see he was always on her side without question. "We can continue this after we win the war."
After the promise waiting period expired the orbs were alive again, now with practical communication rather than more nonsense. Her men had their fun, now Tanya could direct them into doing their jobs. Major Hanover was replaced with her familiar prince. A professional as expected.
"Major Degurechaff. We are approaching the objective. Are you in position?"
"That we are Lieutenant Stuart." Tanya put on her best friendly yet authoritative tone. "We keenly await you to start us off."
"It is not I but the Lord you should put your faith in Major."
The mention of that wretched creature put the anger Tanya always attempted to resist back into her. It was rational for her, but to show it now would get her nowhere."
"Not now Lieutenant Stuart."
"May this battle be for the glory of our Lord and not our own vanity." The preacher continued willfully disregarding her authority. The other option is a hypothetical result of him being so engrossed in his own dialogue he failed to listen to a direct order.
Some of the battalion muttered along with the sentiment. In stark contrast to her efforts of ensuring her men were loyal to her first, not anything else, especially Being X; she had to reinforce her sentiments while hiding her further frustration. "Now is not the time for prayers Lieutenant Stuart. Are you in position?"
"We have sights on the AA guns. Firing for effect." Gabriel answered her after a pause of conformation. The night sky hid the Albions effectively to the naked eye. While the Empire's best unit what to expect from their Commonwealth counterpart. The medieval Dacians had no such knowledge. To those on the ground, the streaks of light looked to be cast by the deity they feared.
Small, controlled explosions followed against the government building. Stripping down the hastily constructed defences. Two more salvoes were cast, each earning a Latin cry after each success. Upon the completion Tanya's orb reverbed more of the Germanic language. "D-Defences are down Major Degurechaff. You are clear to proceed. May God be with you."
Tanya broke with precedent to calm her desire to tell the prince to drop the act. "Understood, hold your fire while we move in."
The 203rd bolted into action, aiming down towards the capital building. A final wish of "good hunting" and "get that bugger to give it up" from Hanover to spur them on. If they had to rely on themselves the danger would remain negligible. The anti-air guns could only be staffed by untrained conscripts; ferociously wasted on a task they were unprepared for. If by some miracle they knew how to aim and shoot the lightening entry would not provide them with an easy shot.
Tanya landed on the building roof next to one of the immobile gun emplacements. Still lit by fire and morphed by the explosion. The remainder of the battalion landing shortly after her boots hit the structure. Visha and the other men of their company following on her heels towards the rooftop door.
When the Albion's did their raid six-weeks ago they attacked through the front doors. While they were no less subtle, the swiftness in their operation planned to breed similar results. Most Dacian soldiers would be at the front lines engaged in a pointless defence. The skeleton crew here would be on the lower levels preparing a defence at the assumed entry point or forcibly charred next to their guns. Meaning, Tanya could take point down into the building like a proper leader without any reasonable risk.
There was one Dacian grunt on the stairs coming to check on the noise. Tanya disposed of him before he could become a problem. Shooting then kicking the body back down the stairs to bleed at the bottom. Stepping over the first kill of the evening onto the top floor, the only apparent source of life in the area.
"Serebryakov." She called out to her Adjutant turned temporary map.
"Straight down this hall. The office should be on the next right. I'm sure."
Securing the Prime minister directly was down to her small group, the rest already filing past to clear the building and search secondary locations, in case Horváth was not in his office. Once again they were indebted to the intelligence capabilities of the Commonwealth. Thankfully, neither of Tanya's Albion connections felt prideful enough to gloat about it.
None of them seemed to mind that she gave the easiest job to herself. Possibly thankful they would play soldier in close-quarters combat, relatively impervious to the lacklustre tools the Dacian's could muster.
Tanya took point for her company outlined by Visha's direction, speeding through the maintained but undefended halls. Her hunch was right, one would think after two magical raids in the same night and total decimation from the air they would learn. Arrogance or ineptitude would be their downfall. Perhaps both could be applied to the enemy.
The First company was made up of twelve mages, Visha and Tanya herself taking up the leading roles in command as well as the vanguard in the moment. Setting the example for the other ten to stay calm and not trick oneself into firing at shadows. The status uninterrupted until they found two wooden doors at the end of the designated hallway. No guards or defences to speak of.
"That should be it, ma'am." Visha addressed the obvious. Their male escorts readied for breaching, awaiting the command to kick in and commence clearing the room. Seeing as she was out of the line of fire – with Visha as a human shield just in case – Tanya gave the order to commit violence.
"Remember, we need him alive. If any of you shoot him you'll be walking back to the Empire."
Her men forced themselves in, filling into the room and shouting off multiple signs of "clear." No gunshots implied the room was devoid. So, the prime minister went down without a fight, or any sound; highly unlikely. The logical inconsistencies to be corrected when one of the men ran back out.
"You should see this Major."
There was no implied risk so there was no contention from her, emerging from her safe cover and into the room. The office was of a similar size to the ones she saw belonging to the General Staff, if at a lost of extravagance while appearing more arrogant in the effort to imitate wealth. Hard wood floors, a roaring fireplace stuffed with blackened papers in one corner with a radio and telegram equipment amassed in the other. Three desks cluttered with papers also occupying the space, two arranged parallel to the entrance and the prominent piece of furniture facing the same spot. The largest desk is marked by the body of a heavyset man laying across it. The back end of the head blown open to coat red spray.
A warrant officer moved the head to the side, an awkward task with a hand and sidearm interlinked into the mouth of the cadaver. Confirming what they already knew.
The deceased Horváth opted for suicide in place of capture. Pitiful. Now Tanya's objective got immensely harder. Unless they could threaten the dead to surrender and call a cease-fire. The men around her mirrored the sentiment non-verbally.
"Serebryakov, stay here with me. The rest of you can secure this floor. We don't need any more surprises tonight." Further ordering that they were to send someone back up to the roof to inform the Albions of the development. Communication formulas becoming too unsustainable inside a building with multiple floors and thick walls. At least she could spare more religious blather from Gabriel about how Horváth was in a better place or some nonsense.
The men saluted and filed out, leaving the two women of the battalion alone in the messy office. Tanya stared at the distorted face longer than what might be acceptable. If she had the purpose, she would have shot the man himself for his suicide. Was the veneer of honour worth it? It was beyond selfish. The skills in governance he put to use in the war would be better applied in peace. The brain matter that, while not great, was still capable of being useful when not slathered as high as the ceiling. Nothing was gained from the act, for the world or more importantly, herself.
"I'm sure it was painless, Major."
"We don't have time to think about that now. We need to adjust our plan."
"What do you suggest."
Tanya decided against wrenching the pistol from the Dacia's mouth. It was safer there and she would resent getting dirty with some old man's snotty brain matter. Visha asked again for her orders.
"Search the desks, we might find something, a suicide note, anything."
"But-"
"Get to it, Lieutenant."
It was a stalling tactic. One not unreasonable but not relevant to their mission of forcing a standdown.
Visha started looking over papers with specs of blood on them. Carful not to touch the body. "What exactly are we looking for ma'am?"
"Anything relevant. Maps, mission orders, a proposed successor."
The blood on the paper her adjacent refused to touch was the reason for Tanya's stanch moral. It proved her and the Salaryman correct. The General filled the power vacuum left by the Albion's raid. No elections, political successor or subordinate ready to repeat the cycle. Those inside the political scene purged in the autocratic fashion. No one else could be clearly identified as the next leader by the Empire or Dacia's army.
They lacked someone to intimidate and if they did, there was no way of knowing if the enlisted troops would respect them enough to obey.
Visha continued her search at another one of the desks. Tanya staying in place to brave the papers tinted red. Unconcerned with any difficulties in reading as greater threats occupied her mind.
There had to be something they could do to spare the Imperial army from urban combat. A bloody street-to-street struggle she failed to prevent would not look good on her resume. Dacia was a minuscule enough threat that this battle could be overlooked with appropriate meddling. His Highness Prince Gabriel probably would back her innocence – especially if she manipulated him. She could get him to have a word with Regina on her behalf. In case the model playing at politics only saw the death toll and not the challenges beset by circumstance. Then she could talk to the emperor and just maybe save her career could be salvaged. His Majesty was the highest authority in the Empire. Though not a dictator with unchecked powers his word alone held immense political sway.
If she could not find a solution to this problem, the emperor might be able to get her out of it.
"The emperor…"
"Something wrong Major?"
Visha noticed the change in the aura around her superior. What was moments ago in grim mourning sprang to lively enthusiasm.
"The Dacian Prince. We can get him to tell the army to stand down. With the prime minister out of the way it might just work." Tanya instructed a new search. No longer stalling for time but fighting against it. "Look for any document about their royalty. I doubt they would let him stay in the capital for the opposition to rally behind."
"What are we supposed to say to him? Or will we have to bring him here to help us?"
"I like the way you think Lieutenant. But we can try contacting his location with the radio before we fly out." It was good to see Visha willing to rough up someone regardless of their social status. It might have been an obvious sentiment, but Tanya liked a bit of ferocity in her human shields. It made them more susceptible to being first in the firing line.
Visha nodded at the assessment, hesitating a moment longer to slowly do the action. Afterwards sticking her head back into the mess of papers.
There was an obvious notion that the Dacian royal would be kept away from violence so that narrowed down the options. Only a stretch of land beyond the capital to the coastline was in native control. No reports or propaganda of his capture meant he had to be between the capital and the Black Sea. Making the lowliest of office papers a candidate to finding their target.
Tanya explained her thoughts and moved to the other desk not weighed down by a rotting corpse. The justification did not appear to alter Visha's strategy of picking a random paper to read and toss on the floor. In only a handful of minutes, she had created a circle of forms around the desk. Tanya preferred an organised approach of scanning an individual stack at a time and leaving it in place. Allowing her to know its location and not misplace it with relevant items. A more consuming process but first to yield results.
A letter addressed to Horváth from another general. A torn piece of paper was attacked to the front, presumably from the recipient commenting that the sender could "take that wretched attitude along to the prince and leave the actual work to adults." Tanya skimmed the contents she could translate for the promising information.
"My young compatriot. I know our personalities match as frequently as our politics, but I want to talk frankly...
I will not back your claim of legitimacy under any circumstance. Your company has been that of Warhawks since the Albions liberated Hellas. We border three nations, and all have been proposed enemies by your political friends. If we could hold the territory, I am convinced you would try and expand into the Black Sea...
I will not claim good came from the capture of our government men or the destruction of our army. I will not wish ill-will purely for you possessing opportunism, but I will not support it under any circumstance...
I and my supporters will stay with His Highness until further notice. You may wish to continue this pointless war, but I will not contribute. Nor will our sovereign...
Bring us to trial if you dare. Impress on us with accounts treason that you yourself have stain yourself with. Tell that we are not patriotic while you kill more sons and fathers against an enemy we cannot fight. See how far you will get with the Republic or Entente without His Highness in power. Public relations will cease to exist if all your opposition is to be disposed of. I imagine they won't send any more mines for the insurgents if you make yourself king."
"The General Staff would be envious of this information if it was for the Franks." Tanya muttered to herself. To the Empire, all they could gather was invaluable. To her, it lost relevance once she moved on to another front.
"Serebryakov." Her adjacent was immediately ready for further orders. "I have a letter from one General Draža Mihailaru. Have you seen anything?"
Visha looked across the desk in one sweep, then getting onto her hands and knees to scour the mess she created. Awkwardly shifting to correct the offset balance caused by the flight gear. "In your own time Lieutenant."
"I found it, ma'am." Visha held up the prize. Tanya walked over snatched it from her fellow officer that had trouble getting back to her feet. The turtle stuck on its shell had found a shipment order to the prime minister from the same general. It requested personal items be sent east to one of the monarch's residences keeping an informal house arrest. Address and communication codes included.
"To preserve my properties before you manage to corrupt it with your cruel governance."Added as the official reason for the request.
Tanya commented on the hostility to Visha as she managed to get back onto her feet. "It always helps the enemy if the leadership is fractured. They will likely be more willing to negotiate with us. The enemy of my enemy is my friend as they say"
"I don't believe I've heard that one before ma'am."
"Don't worry about it. Good work finding this Visha."
The Lieutenant smiled and glowed from the compliment including her nickname. Still grinning as the mission was upheld. "Shall I operate the radio for you, ma'am?"
Tanya looked over her shoulder to the relevant corner of the room containing the equipment. "I hope your morse-code is up to it Lieutenant."
05/11/1924/ Bucharest, Principality of Dacia / 3KM above city limits / 21:02
Gabriel leaned forward towards William in the cockpit. "What did they say?" He had to yell over the wind that continued to harass their verbal communication as they circled over the Dacian Capital.
"William turned away from the controls to yell out what the radio failed to make clear the first time. "Strike request on these coordinates."
Gabriel listened to the string of numbers while piecing together where they would be on a map. Kindly aided by Williams cheery epitaph on behalf of the Imperials requesting the strike. "Hun says it's a little half-burnt house on the edge of everything."
Gabriel nodded for acknowledgement and shimmied back onto the uncomfortable safety of his rear seat. It would be easier if they were permitted to fire continuously on the enemy. The easy option was rarely the Commonwealth way, less so for their strategy of warfare. When they started doing this along the Rhine it would be their best method of ground support.
Gabriel touched the orb under his tunic, commissioning tingles of warmth to creep through his bones onto the metal disk. "Does any-" Gabriel cleared his throat, cutting off the communication formula prematurely. The quiver in his voice formed as he risked his life to look over the side of the plane. Down at that hard ground. A glimpse of a quaint house could be seen. Alight by nighttime fires to stand out among impromptu defences. Just three kilometres below, built atop the ground that could crack every bone in his mortal body. The fall would be lethal at fifty meters, this height was tempting tragedy to strike.
Gabriel sunk back into the gunner seat. Inching in as far as the equipment on his back would allow him. His gloves tightening around the rifle; grip purposefully increased so the shaking would stop. No matter how tight he shut his eyes those infernal engines and wind raged past him.
Someone else could call the target. Why did he need to do it? Was that the fate he wanted to give himself?
Prized House of Stuart - further humiliated by their youngest prince falling to his death after failing to get his flight gear to work. Such mistakes he could easily make. Leave it to him to get killed in a manner that would harm his family more than himself.
It was not safer inside the cubby-hole of this death contraption than out there. Despite the illusion, it was gifted along with claustrophobia. If he wanted safety, Gabriel knew it would be back on the ground. That mythical area three kilometres could easily kill him before it saved him. That contradiction was more frightful than when it was initially conceived.
This fear was the most familiar emotion whenever he hid down in these horrid seats. It was the only thing he could properly do.
Gabriel took in a breath of the cold night air that bit at his teeth and held it in as his eyes returned to functioning. Wriggling back out Gabriel aimed the rifle over the side back into the dark abyss below. If he was to die the best he could do would be to not go out like a coward that Mother would hate even more.
"This is Wendy-Ten. We have coordinates. Who has a view of the target?"
The unassuming landmass popped with gunfire and occasional canons that struck against the oppressive canopy of the night.
Every Dacian shell was a potential casualty for the Empire. His reservations and submission to fear meant more were to suffer and die because of him.
None of his fellow mages called confirmation. Maybe handling their own realizations to the insanity of their profession, or are genuinely unable to find the spec below.
"Repeating coordinates." One of their pilots repeated the numbers for all magic users to hear. Guiding Gabriel as he surveyed for the target. A Dacian field gun burst with canon-shot and drew his eye back to the little house. That shot could meet the target and kill an ally of Her Majesty. He had the shot but failed to take it. Cowering at his own mortality and letting more of the Lord's children waste away.
"Why can't I do anything right?" Gabriel quietly lamented to himself. Willing to bang his helmet in with his hand if not concentrating on the shot.
Gabriel unbuttoned the oxygen mask. Steadying his aim and speaking below the volume necessary for the computation orb.
"This is Wendy-Ten. Engaging target."
No orders contradicted him or denied him the kill. Managing to source the heat of mana to his fingertips. Preparing for a more powerful burst of an artillery spell. Bracing for the shot that would rock the plane momentarily.
"May the Lord guide us to just victory." Gabriel spoke in a hushed manner. Covered by the wind so no other would hear his small prayer. None permitted to hear his plea for their almighty Father.
Gabriel pulled the trigger, cracking the air violently. The recoil pushing him upward minutely. Below, the house evaporated into countless splinters. The gun neighbouring impeachment along with ammunition stockpiles exploded in tandem with the spell - both in the same state as the structure.
A seemingly flawless execution of manoeuvre - if the portable hesitation he could not overcome. That which reaffirmed him to stow away the gun between his legs. Safely tucked away into his "safe" cubby and distract himself with the rear gun.
It was just him and this Lewis gun. And the engine. And the wind with gunfire. They were also here, each something that could malfunction and kill any one of them.
Gabriel banged his head against the gun, resulting in a metal clang radiating off his helmet. Just him, his helmet and the Lewis Gun.
The radio and computation orb flurried with orders that momentarily did not concern him. Banter, jokes and analysis of the one-sided battle.
"Hail Mary, full of grace. The Lord is with thee." The prayer needs he continuously smuggled in his glove was back in use. The 27th was fine without him, let their Father be the only one pestered by him.
Another new frequency was detected by the computation orb, humming and heating up. The unconscious tingling inherent to mages confirming this was a new source outside of the Commonwealth unit.
Gabriel let the message hum for a moment longer to contemplate if he needed to wind his head back for another strike. This was his fight, no matter how much he wanted to escape it. Second only to Major Hanover in this Wing. It was his burden to shoulder and duty to endure, for the men below and their Lord above.
Gabriel instinctively touched the orb through his tunic to accept the call.
"Lieutenant Stuart." Spoken to him by a Germanic voice. Unmistakably Major Degurechaff playing up her role.
"How is your mission Major?" Gabriel did feel calmed that it was her speaking to him. "Did you find a solution to the Prime minister?"
Hanover ordered they maintain air superiority while the Imperials fixed the problem they encountered. Gabriel was only surprised it did not take longer. That girl could seemingly solve any problem if she put her mind to it.
"We ran through the complications. Nothing too difficult."
"The Lord shares his fortune with you Major."
"We can save the biblical talk for later Lieutenant." She dismissed receiving praise to focus on the mission directive. The young one was still trying to impress everyone.
"We made contact with the Dacian Prince, and he's agreed to announce a ceasefire publicly. He should be on the air any minute."
"Understood. I will relay to the Wing. We will maintain air superiority until we can confirm the stand down. Stand by Major."
Tanya relayed an understanding then signed off. Committing to holding their position inside the building until further notice. Gabriel's own duty was upheld with more orders shouted over the orb and radio. At least this meant there were no more chances for him to mess up and allow more people to get killed.
"I guess this is another win for the Commonwealth." The others started trading banter. Gabriel and a minority of the officer left to listen rather than participate.
"One more campaign for us lot." Rushworth took a turn to talk over everyone else. "Who's buying drinks?"
Peggie did not offer Gabriel's name as last time. Instead, denying she would be the one to pick up the tab. Most likely because she planned to get resources for drinking in private. But he could worry himself with lamenting his free time after they what constituted as safe on the ground.
"Mr. Brown, has the broadcast started?" Gabriel had to turn and shout the question twice. William then checking and confirming such through the radio.
"Permission to be critical?" The Pilot chirped back. Provoking a nod out of Gabriel despite how he had no authority to give any such liberation.
"This better bloody work sir. I mean, what kind of planning could a kid do and pull off? I'll be more surprised if this works."
"Tanya doesn't seem to be restricted by the limitations of her youth."
"Doesn't matter. A kid is still a kid, and I know I'm not the only one who thinks like that."
"I don't fail to comprehend the sentiment." Gabriel held the same belief if not enough to blind him. "Trust me, she's smarter than she looks."
"That doesn't say much does it sir?"
A distant rapid banging interrupted the flow of words. The telling sign of machine guns. Absent was a request or report of anyone firing.
Gabriel forced out his shield to cover the plane. It was not as strong as directly focusing on specific quadrants yet necessary in a crisis. William was already on the radio reporting the shots fired. The mage looking across the black skyline for anything.
"Does anyone see a shooter?"
"Hit! Wendy-Two hit!" Rushworth cried out his aeroplanes callsign, frantically shouting the status through the orb.
Two more cries joined them. Wendy-One confirming their slightly damaged status and Wendy-Twelve reporting engine fire and the shots' origins coming from the north. Wendy-Twelve, Peggie was hit.
"Wendy-Twelve and Two, report! Can you still fly?" If she could remain airborne then Peggie must have been alright. There was no answer from either of them.
This was bad. They were under attack without a clear direction. Dacia has no airforce, but this kind of damage could only come from fellow aircraft. Outside of a single direction, they were completely blind.
This had never happened before. They were the Commonwealth's best; this was not supposed to happen to them. What was Gabriel supposed to do?
Looking northward, the damaged allies were visible in the distance. Wendy-Twelve showing the worst signs as sprinkles of fire trailed behind the tail. No aircraft could be seen or heard aside from the 27th circling the capital.
Should they break off? There was no clear answer but whatever Gabriel assumed to be correct might violate the doctrine. But staying still could not be much better.
Hanover was on the radio, bellowing loud enough to beat the wind. Peggie's Pilot was asking permission to retreat back to an airfield. An order was nearly lost in the confusing situation.
"Get out of here if you need to. All units, evasive manoeuvres. Peel off on your own for now."
William huffed. "Hang on sir!" Immediately, the plane took a nosedive. Gabriel was lifted out of his seat momentarily. His oxygen mask fluttering beside in the madness of the elevated wind. Rather than grabbing the item instincts kicked in and each hand gripped the aircraft in the mistake that it would protect him. William always managed to pull up in time but that was little comfort at the moment. As the rooftops were replaced with a portrait landscape Gabriel still could not take his hands off his perceived safety. The pocket watch needed to speak to him before he could remembrance the illusion of safety.
"Wendy-Twelve is pulling out with Wendy-One as an escort." It was Peggie, stressed but unharmed. "My pilots pulling out. I'm flying low. Can anyone pick me up?"
Her coordinates followed. Their close proximity was a convenience, the deciding factor was the request coming from Peggie.
"Wendy-Seven, were close, hold position and ready for pickup." Gabriel leaned forward to the Pilot. "Check Wendy-Twelve, confirm they can get away without crashing."
"I doubt Peggie would ditch her Pilot if he couldn't."
"We're just confirming. Now do it!"
Gabriel ignored the sarcastic comments retorted to him. Instead of focusing on searching for whatever was hunting his men. At least God had graced them, and no one was dead. The Lord had favoured him for a moment longer.
William shouted to "get ready" as they approached the pickup. Tilting the plane to make it easier for Peggie to fly alongside and grab onto the handle. With minimal difficulty, their passenger was hanging onto the side of the contraption.
"Welcome aboard." William yelled back, steadily regaining altitude while contributing to the mass confusion over the radio.
"Charmed." Peggie allowed Gabriel's hand to stretch out and hold hers on the outside of the plane. The purpose of reaching further than merely securing her grip was known to all parties.
"Any idea what attacked you?"
Peggie shook her head, holstering her rifle onto her back. "No idea. We didn't hear an engine or anything. Just the guns."
More machine guns were heard overhead, matched by a flurry of panic from the radio and computation orbs. The cries of Wendy-Two repeatedly prominent on the airwaves.
Rushworth was hit again. Then an explosion from above sounded off. All three looked up to see the flaming wreckage of an aircraft falling down onto the capital. No comments from Rushworth or his Pilot could be heard over any device.
They had just lost two men simultaneously. That was not supposed to happen.
"What the hell?" Peggie shouted at something other than the former aeroplane. Calling to raise shields at an incoming shadow rapidly gaining speed. Gabriel matched her by outstretching his arm at the unknown mass that released a hail of bullets. None breaking through the double direct barrier and the creature disappeared back into the night.
"Six-o'clock high!" William called out the next shadow.
Peggie had limited offensive capabilities on the side of the plane. Gabriel had no such restriction and could freely shoot retaliatory fire upward. The shot went wide and exploded behind the shadow, the light cast revealing it was another biplane. It was a mechanical monstrosity rather than an organic creature that stalked them.
An image seared itself into Gabriel's retinas. Unimpeded by the shield spell he materialised or sight of the rifle, truly a gift from the Lord bestowed upon him. A smaller nimbler craft. Painted black without a clear marker. Losing its element of surprise, it began to pull up. Climbing higher, a flash of a red two-headed bear on the undercarriage of the canvas wing.
The angel of this aircraft accounted for the falling debris of Wendy-Two. It was a crossed path too close for coincidence. The Lord has shown him this gift is it was confirmed on its own.
This was Rushworth's killer.
"Brown. After them. Pull up!"
The order needed no verbalization. The aircraft was already lifted to follow the trial of this mysterious enemy.
Gabriel readied and aimed another artillery spell. "We're killing them."
A voice told him to hold until the distance was closed, Gabriel fired anyway and sent another shot wide.
Someone dared to attack them. Some repulsive creatures had sharpened their claws and took aim at the Commonwealth. This was an insult unto the Queen herself, unto God Himself. Then to kill the kin of Her Majesty was comparable to be dealt with merciless vigour.
Sins could be forgiven if one's repentance was genuine. Let their Father judge them, let the soldiers of the Queen send those sinners to him.
Gabriel squeezed the trigger again, then again until the gun was out of rounds. Prompting him to swear as he reached for a new stripper clip to remedy the issue. "We won't catch them if you keep firing wildly!"
"Shut it!" Gabriel yelled at his Pilot. Stuffing more bullets into the chamber. It was not the great distance that was the problem; it was the fool that shook the ascending aircraft. "Just hold the bloody plane steady."
"Six and eight Gabriel." Peggie shouted as she forced both her hands out in the corresponding directions. Tilting too far off the foothold, kept upright with Gabriel grabbing onto her red shirt and aiming the rifle singlehanded.
It was dangerous but risk never factored in while persecuting sinners. The weight-balanced too heavily on the end for a steady shot; in the milliseconds he had it was dealt with by aiming slightly below the target, expecting recoil to correct the error. The shot clipped the wing of the plane, taking off panels that had limited impact on the craft's flight.
Regardless it was breaking off along with its partner before it could break Peggie's weaker shield. She commented on his good work but stopped when the artillery spells continued, all failing to hit the dual-headed bear.
William reported the situation as it unfolded to the Major. Hanover gave an answer that tempted Gabriel to shoot the radio with his sidearm. "Pull out and return to the Wing. We can't have anyone else get swarmed."
They were leaving the capital's airspace and away from the protection of numbers. That should not be their concern. They were gaining on some creature that had killed their friends. Why were they not all perusing the enemy to tear them apart? Hanover should be yelling at the rest for not joining the pursuit. Why did he show his rare state of anger at them?
"Turn that bloody plane around Mr. Brown. That's an order."
"Me and Peggie can jump out. We can still catch up." Peggie seemed willing but unconvinced to their success. It was possible if they stayed the course Gabriel was certain their diligence would be matched by the Lord. Then they could rip the limbs of that pilot off with their bare hands.
Their opportunity was stolen from them. Before Gabriel could climb out to jump the plane was turning back to the capital.
"Turn this thing around. Now!"
"I'm sorry sir."
"I said-"
Peggie cut in on the boys back and forth "Gabriel!"
She was pulling herself closer to him. Almost climbing on top of him and pushing him down into the crammed gunner seat. "I'm not letting you get killed over this. Just stay down, please."
She reluctantly let go, still finding Gabriel's hand to pull out of the hole and hold. Something unprompted and unacknowledged by any of the three. Gabriel let himself be abused. Curling up as best he could with the firearm, helmet, and gear stabbing at every corner of his body.
Any semblance of willpower left him. Here he could still claim breath, two of his men were dead but he could lie here with a claim on life.
Tears started to gather in his googles. It really happened; he had directly caused his men to die. The men he was sworn to protect as a prince and officer, dead somewhere on the ground. He could not even catch the killers. He should have flown after that plane. Better do die a fool than live with the shame. The Queen would hate him for it either way. It would be more prominent to have a despised son die of his own foolishness than continue as a failure.
He heard it from her own mouth back when Albion fell. He was "of no use to her in such a state."
A/N:
Finally done with the Dacian war. I imagine much of you are surprised I made it last this long, I hope you don't shudder when I say that it was originally planned to be two chapters longer. Obviously, what was cut is not necessary to the plot and the story will continue on without consequence. I am confident that we are past the point of easing the reader into the world and characters.
I will admit I am not the best at judging pacing and am thankful to Xanen for assisting me on this matter (and for threatening me not to include the extra Dacia content).
The next chapter will be a good one, I do not doubt people will like what happens in it. No spoilers but it should be a worthy bow put on top of the Dacian war.
Thank you for reading, feedback, and criticism are always welcome.