AN: Heyo, happy late 4th of July! I'll go ahead and say that this chapter is a bit more filler than anything else, but it's short enough to be a proper chapter while also giving me enough time to finish up the other chapter. Also, this is the penultimate chapter that was prepared before I started publishing this story, so updates are likely to become sporadic after next week. Thank y'all for reading, let's get on with the show!

"You and your force of 10,000 are besieged by an army ten times that size. Simple castle fortifications are all that stand between you and them, and it is unknown how long it will take for a relief force to come to your aid. What do you do?"

Hmm, not a lot of details on hand so far. "What water source is being used to funnel water to the castle and for how long can our stored food last for?"

The Doctor nods at those questions. "Aqueducts and pipes connected to the castle's infrastructure have been destroyed by the enemy forces, leaving only a handful of wells within the confines of the castle's walls. As for food supplies, most will be able to last for over a year, but the variety of these supplies will dwindle rapidly as the months go by."

A harsh blow for morale and proper nourishment, but it hasn't become the worst case scenario yet. "What about artillery, such as cannons or ballistae? How much ammunition is on hand for my force to use?"

He gives me a brief look. Did I do something wrong? "A total of twenty howitzers are available for you to use, along with a handful of Sankta machine gun squads. Let's say that the howitzers are able to use roughly 2,000 shells in total, and the machine gunners have a million bullets to chew through."

Alright, five shells a day isn't too bad. And we can save the gunners till it's absolutely urgent. "Any information on the climate and geography? Am I defending a mountain, or am I on a grassy plain?"

The look gets longer. "The climate is that of a mild spring, one similar to those you'd see in the grassy plains of Kazimierz. The castle itself is perched on a hill, so any force wanting to place ladders or siege towers will have to combat the steep incline."

Perfect! If we can get rid of their engines or artillery, it would be much easier to hold off against them. "And my troops? What's their composition, what loyalties do they hold, and how is their morale?"

The stare gets even longer. Wait, did his mask just morph into a squint? "Only 2,000 of your troops are ranged units, being an equal mix of crossbows and archers. To keep things simple, the crossbowmen will be using standard single-shot composite crossbows. 3,000 more are light infantry, equipped with minimal armor and a light weapon alongside a few javelins. The last of your troops are the heavy infantry, half of which are equipped with large shields and one-handed weapons and the other half which wield two-handed polearms and the heaviest armor.

"They don't have the greatest of morale, what with the enormous army perched right outside their castle's walls. Despite this, they are hopeful that you will lead them into victory, and are willing to follow your orders. Loyalties are firmly in your camp, with officers and non-commissioned officers following your lead."

Hmm, now I wonder… "Am I associated with any known faction? What's the major race within my forces?"

This time, the Doctor tilts his head. "You are part of the Ursus Imperial Army, and the largest race demographic in your army is Ursus."

Wait, don't tell me… "Is there anything you can tell me about the enemy general?"

...It morphed again! But it frowned instead of squinting! "The enemy general, a noble of Kazimierz, is known for being an honorable but duty-bound man. Why?"

Kazzies fighting in Kazimierz? Must mean that it's from one of the ten Ursus-Kazimierz wars. Oh, what a terrible boon this was. "My first order of business is to form up a party of five and request a parley. The waving of the white flag is a recognized symbol in Kazimierz for negotiations, the honorable man must talk before engaging in a siege."

He paused before nodding. "The two parties meet, but Kazimierz general states firmly that he has orders to take the castle and to erase Ursus' presence in the region."

And I can't surrender without my execution and the decimation of my army, as per Ursus' modus operandi. "Alright, we gather as much information as we can from looking at our position and return to the castle. First orders are to have all gates closed unless I approve of its opening and I write up ten different letters with the castle's location and this written on it."

I hand over a piece of paper that I had written on while explaining this, which says, 'Kdzlmlhrz bhslhghs xs wlth 100 thrxsdng. Rqoy hdyh whq thrxsdng. Vhqg uhlqirufhphqwr!'

Another tilt of the Doctor's head. "Gibberish?" He turned to me, looked back to the paper, and then held a hand up to his chin. "Or, could it be…"

"An encrypted message, yes."

He shakes his head, muttering something about 'stupid… cipher… -egist,' but he still continued the scenario. "From what you were able to gather from observations, most of the Kazimierz army is centered between the north and the west of your castle. Fortunately, all that secures the other areas are token patrols."

Giving me another bone, I see. "I authorize a party of five to rush through the eastern gate and into Ursus territory, while another party of five swings around from the south to ensure that the message makes it to Ursus if the first party fails. After that, a form of garrison duty is established, with the light and ranged infantry manning the walls, the polearm infantry manning the streets, and the shield infantry assisting the other groups whenever possible. Artillery is limited to using five shells a day unless in dire circumstances, and our gunners are only to be used when the Kazzies launch an assault.

"Strict rationing will be done, with the shorter lived goods being the first to be eaten and longer lasting food, such as grains and rice, being stored for the long run. If we're desperate enough, we can produce hardtack. Finally, buckets filled to the brim with water are to be placed on and near the walls, to make sure that enemy sappers are caught before they do too much damage."

Alright, it really can move, as he squinted again. How the hell does he move that mask of his? Who even designs a visor-like mask to be expressive?! "Anything else you want to add, Captain?"

Let's see, we've got the food and munitions, deserters, and the couriers with the encrypted messages. Am I missing anything? Wait… oh Gauls, you clever bastards. "One more thing, a guard post for the castle's latrines."

That got a double take. "Guards for the latrines?... What?"

Damn chuckle snuck its way out before I could stop it. It's not often the Doctor is the one baffled! "It happened before, during the war between Gaul and Victoria. Some ingenious scouts got the idea of sneaking into a fort through their latrines." I wince, "It wasn't the most glamorous of plans, but it saved more eagles than the place was worth."

The slight rustling of his clothes was probably him shuddering, but either the movements were too slight or the clothes were too heavy for me to be certain of that. "In that case, I thank you for bringing that to my attention. Now, will that be the last thing, or can you think of another factor to add?"

I shake my head. "That's the last of 'em, Doctor."

"Well, in that case…" He crossed his arms and leveled a stare at my eyes. I must've done something wrong, all right. "... I have no idea what you're so worried about."

"... I'm sorry?"

He snorted. "Don't act dumb. You gathered as much information on both your own army, the environment, and the enemy forces immediately within taking command. 'He who knows these things, and in fighting puts his knowledge into practice, will win battles. He who knows them not, nor practices them, will surely be defeated.' Sound familiar?"

I found a corner of the room to be particularly more interesting than it once was. "I've… tried to understand the concepts of the treatise, but I've only found some parts that I can always remember and follow. Most end up being too vague for me to remember, or something I have a hard time understanding how to apply in practical situations."

"Well, from the sounds of it, you've got some of the more important concepts understood. And you sure knew how to apply them in this situation." He leaned forward, "Be honest with me, Captain. What happened to make you so doubtful of yourself? You clearly do have a sense for these affairs, yet you can't seem to fairly evaluate your own abilities."

A sigh filters out of my mouth. "I've my doubts that a siege of all things can encapsulate one's strategic and tactical knowledge." A pointed glare is leveled against me, but I raise my hand and continue, "However, to answer your main question, that would have to do with the casualty rate of the units under my command, especially during the Gallic Wars."

"Buck, casualties happen. Don't waste the sacrifice of your men with doubt."

"Ghost of Babel," the hostility in my voice was hard to mask, and the Doctor even flinched at the tone. Still, I doubled down for now and leaned forward, propping up one elbow on his desk. "My battalion suffered enough casualties that the reports were often mistaken for being the reports of the worst penal battalions to fight in the Wars. That is not a mere case of casualties happening."

"Peace, Buck. Peace," he raised his hands and leaned back, putting some distance between us. I reciprocated, the heat in my face only starting to dissipate. "I apologize, I didn't mean to downplay the severity of the situation. But–" before I could even move, he raised a hand, and I let him be, "I do have to ask, how much influence did you truly have over those cases?"

I frowned, raising my hand to the jaw of my visor. "What do you mean by that, Doctor?"

"I've heard that your unit was considered quite elite and well-trained, but I never heard what kind of tasks it was mainly used for. What did your Immortal Legion specialize in?"

I lean back and cross my arms. Could you even say we specialized in something? "I can't say for certain, as we always ended up doing a multitude of combat tasks, something expected of any infantry battalion associated with Gaul. However, I will say that we often were used for frontal assaults and stormings, especially when it came to trenches or fortified positions, so maybe the best classification would be shock troopers."

The Doctor paused at that. He raised his hand, as though he were about to say something, only to stop and lay the palm on his visor, a sigh being the only noise as his posture deflated.

"... A Shock Unit experiencing heavy losses…"

I raised my hand, "I know, that's an expected drawback of their area of expertise, but losses that heavy? Frankly, I'm more surprised I wasn't stripped of my rank and had my unit folded into another!"

He raised his head. Huh, the visor widens with shock. "How famous were you?"

"... Pardon?"

"Think about it," he crosses his arms over his chest. "If the leader of a famous unit were just as well-known, wouldn't it serve the Armee better if that leader becomes a figure – a poster boy, in a sense – that encourages both the military personnel to perform their duties and encourages the civilian populace with their heroics? Think of it from a boy's perspective growing up then: There's a giant knight fighting valiantly for the country and the Emperor, and he's doing so successfully. What boy, what patriot, wouldn't want to be like that knight?"

"I…" could that have really been the case? Were there actually some transferee's that joined not because they wanted to be part of a renowned unit, but because they wanted to follow me? … Fuck! "I hadn't thought of that, but I do know that many found me a familiar sight."

He nodded sagely, as though I shared a great bit of wisdom. He lifted a finger, paused, looked at what must've been a watch behind me, and dropped the hand.

"Our time's running short, so let's wrap this up quickly. Firstly, you are proficient with the necessary tactics a Captain would need to know, even if you don't believe this to be the case. Secondly, you have a debilitating case of self-loathing–"

"Objection."

He ignored me, "Which I would recommend getting checked. Remember that we have many licensed medical professionals under our employ, therapists notably among them. Do not be afraid to reach out to any of them."

I grunted at that. Who the hell actually looks forward to talking to a shrink? If anything, the egghead bastard will try to run tests on me, like the rest of their misbegotten lot.

I'd bet good money that that pause was him rolling his eyes. "And finally, our allotted time will be a mix of you being my assistant and learning the art of war through war games. You'll also become an additional advisor while on base, so you'll be able to learn from others as well. Anything else?"

I shook my head. "No sir, that about covers it."

"Good, you're free to go." His head disappeared into the stacks of paper on his desk, and the furious scribbling of his pen echoed in the silent room.

A quick bow was all I did before leaving the room, gently closing the door behind me.

…..

Thank God for proper maintenance, as the rooms of the barracks buildings were thankfully comfortable and clean for proper habitation. No black mold festering the vents of this building, no siree!

That's probably why I found it more comfortable to spend time down here nowadays, as the noise of the troops moving to and fro added a comforting ambience to whatever I'm doing throughout the day. Of course, moving to live in the quarters here was another factor in me staying here more often, but it wasn't much of a hassle to move into one of the rooms here and you bet your sweet ass I'm doing that if it means that the Company will work better.

It also contributed to the following scene in my new office, when Scars decided to ask for a quick private chat. If I had any guesses, it'd be to cash in that favor I owe him.

"Lieutenant Branko, how are the troops? Any progress with replenishing 2nd Platoon?"

The explosive sigh from the man conveyed more without words than any conversation I've ever had with Dr. Kal'tsit ever could. Him massaging his temples was overkill, at that point.

"...is it the former, or the latter?"

He looked up at me, and though his faceplate hid his face well - odd how common that is, hiding your face behind a visor - the frustration he hid was palpable.

"Sir, how did you train your units?"

Well, that's not good. "For my units, marching, drilling, and weapon's training were always to be practiced. March for twenty miles in full gear, train with weapons afterwards. Drill until the unit is in perfect cohesion, then keep drilling to keep that perfection. Why?"

He didn't respond, looking away pensively for some time. Eventually, he turned back to me, arms crossed. "And for discipline, sir? How did you punish the troops?"

That's very not good. "That depends on the offense. Minor ones could be a pay dock or extra duties, major ones being corporal punishment or execution. What's the issue?"

A thankful nod was his first response, before he explained, "3rd Platoon has been replenished to full strength. It's just that the replacements are all mercenaries that are rather… well, mercenary."

Ah, a profound lack of esprit de corps. A terrible malady rife among mercs attached to an army, just as scurvy was for pirates without diverse provisions. "Have they been belligerent or borderline rebellious?"

A quick shake of the head. "No sir, nothing as severe as that. Only some friction between them and the older troops of the platoon."

"That's to be expected when replacement troops join a platoon. So long as you keep a keen eye on any dissent, it grows worse when left unsupervised."

Another thankful nod. "Right, sir. Thank you, sir."

I clapped the lieutenant on his shoulder, the action taking him off guard and making him stumble a bit. "No problem, Scars. Just a bit of advice, you may want to up the intensity of the training."

That got him to pause, then look at my direction. "Are we going to be deployed soon, sir?"

I crossed my arms and hummed a bit. "As of yet, there are no orders to prepare. But something in my bones is telling me to prepare." I huffed, a sardonic smile adorning my visored face, "You know what they say about a soldier's intuition."

"Ignore it at your own peril, yes." The Goliath stood there as though he were anxious, fidgeting with the hilt of his sword. He turned to me, "Do your bones give any hints on our chances, sir?"

I chuckled. "Sadly, these old bones are quite picky when they give me any warnings. They certainly don't warn me of danger, else I'd have less trouble with equipment maintenance. Nice try, though."

Scars sighed and shrugged. "Better to ask than to wonder, sir."

"Indeed it is, lieutenant. Indeed it is." I hum, only to stop and turn back to Scars. "Oh, and one more thing."

"Sir?"

"It may be a bit difficult, but try to get those greenhorns properly integrated into the platoon." My frown may have been hidden, but my crossed arms weren't. "This may be the hallmark of an officer to try to force things that aren't possible, but you'd be surprised at how much that alone can worsen the casualty rate."

After a few seconds of staring at my visor, I heard a soft huff and saw him nod at me. "I understand sir."

Ignoring whatever that was, I decided to stop hogging the man's time. "Thank you, Scars. You're free to go."

AN: And there we go! That's the last of this chapter, and the next ought to come at the usual Tuesday. I'll also let you know that the next chapter ought to be the second larges one I've written so far, with the possibility of becoming the largest.

A few more notes:

1) The garbled message was encrypted with a Caesar Cipher. If you feel like decoding it yourself, go ahead!

2) At one point, the Doctor quotes about 'He who knows'. Yes, that was a direct quotation of Sun Tsu's Art of War. For reference, I'm using the translation published by Filiquarian Publishing. You can find the actual quote at the bottom of page 47.

3) I don't think I put a list of the referenced works mentioned in the last chapter, so I'll go ahead and list the actual ones here:

Vom Krieg - Carl Von Clausewitz's On War

The Campaigns of Andreas the Conqueror - Arrian's Campaigns of Alexander the Great

History of the Minoan Archon War - Thucydides' History of the Peloponnesian War

In Stahlgewittern - Ernst Junger's Storm of Steel

Do note that I've only read through half of Storm of Steel, so don't expect any references to the contents of the mentioned books anytime soon. In any case, this post script is getting long enough, so I'll leave it be here. See ya next time!