Nil Admirari

by Carlo Zen

  "I appreciate your consideration."

  The moment he got permission from the political officer, Drake made a brisk return to his unit to set about getting the prisoners on their way.

  Escorting ten adult men to the rear effectively meant that a mage company would be leaving the battle lines. A mage unit would be able to withdraw fine on its own, but with infantry along, he couldn't give up on support.

  Well, let's see... Drake unhesitatingly chose the optimal---the most useless---unit for the job. "Lieutenant Sue. Prepare to take the prisoners to the rear."

  "Take the prisoners to the rear, sir?"

  "That's right. It's your responsibility to escort the prisoners who surrendered to us. Once the RMS Queen of Anjou's repairs are complete, they can catch a ride to the homeland."

  Having entrusted the transport of the prisoners to the least helpful lieutenant's company, Drake was already thinking about how they would withdraw.

  The incoming enemy was a relief unit.

  In other words, its objective was to defend and relieve this village.

  He wanted to believe that meant they wouldn't give chase, but unfortunately, he couldn't cling to such wishful thinking.

  Just as he was thinking that he would like to prioritize the infantry's withdrawal, it happened. The Federation infantry picked up the skis they had taken off and began departing from the village.

  Finally.

  The face of the political officer as she approached him even looked relieved.

  "Did Colonel Mikel agree?!"

  "Yes, Lieutenant Colonel! Comrade Colonel has given the order to withdraw!"

  "Very good!"

  Okay! As Drake was about to dash off, he noticed the political officer seemed to want to say something.

  "They'll go on trial in your country?"

  "They did fire on us, after all. We'll be sure to give them a rough time." He plastered a grin of fake satisfaction on his face and assured her they would be punished. Honestly, what the prisoners deserved most was sympathy, so he planned to show them a truly awful time involving wine, scotch, and cigarettes.

  "I hope you'll be considerate..."

  "Oh?"

  "They're citizens of our country...even under these unfortunate circumstances..."

  The surprise was palpable.

  Drake was biased. He thought Communist Party dogs were a bunch of sadists. It was a natural assumption for him that they would want the prisoners to be punished.

  "I implore you as but one political officer. I wish I had more to offer besides words, but I hope you'll be considerate in your treatment of them."

  She had enough self-restraint to not be a nuisance when the bullets were flying, but Drake couldn't get over the habit she had of showing up only once the fighting was over.

  And on top of that, she talks in platitudes without batting an eye! Drake found her sensibilities difficult to fathom.

  "The highest penalty in our military courts for a gang of ne'er-do-wells is death by firing squad... I'm afraid I don't know what will happen to them."

  "C-Colonel Drake?!"

  "Lieutenant, do you need anything else?"

  If you're not having issues, then get going already. He gestured with his jaw to shoo away the source of his irritation.

  "...It sounds harsh, but if laws aren't enforced, they become nothing more than hollow words. Isn't that right?"

  With a final "I'm off, then," Drake rushed away. It barely needed to be stated, but in war, the most difficult operation was fighting withdrawals.

  As a commander, he still had a lot to do.

  Flying up and looking down at the village, she saw they were still within hailing distance. For a moment, her mind focused only on the thought of defending the withdrawal of their comrades during a retreat, the ambition of every mage.

  Mary couldn't take orders like sending troops to the rear and securing an escape route lightly.

  But she still felt sad.

  "Enemy forces are on the way! Pull out! Pull out!"

  A stern voice shouted the order to withdraw.

  "Will we need a blocking unit to slow them down?!"

  "The enemy vanguard seems to be mages from a quick response team. With those numbers, they won't chase us past the defensive line!"

  Mary thought it was obnoxious how the commander was reassuring everyone that they didn't have to worry about intense pursuit.

  As the shouts of "We're heading out!" echoed, Mary knew she had to withdraw, too.

  She didn't want to run away.

  If it were possible, she would have rather intercepted the enemy unit and given the Imperial Army---no, the Devil of the Rhine---a good scare.

  "...But I can't yet."

  She was aware how strong her opponent was.

  She knew she had to avoid giving in until the time when her attack could make it count.

  But someday...

  In the near future, she would definitely...

  "We're taking it back... We'll show them."

  I still can't reach.

  I'm still not up to the task.

  I'm still not ready.

  It's a laundry list of things I can't do yet.

  "But I won't give up."

  The enemy of my father.

  The enemy of us all.

  ...We have to come back.

  "For now---and only for now---I'll leave."

  As she murmured, Mary noticed the shouts to fall back were growing sparser.

  I need to hurry.

  Everyone was probably almost ready to depart.

  Though it pained her, and her heart demanded that she remain and fight to the last man...she had to endure.

  Delivering prisoners to the rear was an important mission. If she hesitated any longer, she would cause trouble for not only herself but everyone else, too.

  So she swore an oath.

  She looked down, turning around just once, and swore.

  "I---we---shall..."

  She kept losing.

  She hadn't been ready this time, either.

  But someday...

  Eventually...

  "...I shall return."

  Viewing the fight that day objectively in hindsight, it could be said that the Empire, Federation, and Commonwealth all achieved their objectives. In a rare occurrence, every party could boast that they had been victorious.

  The Imperial Army, in plain terms, had won a crushing tactical victory.

  Its frontline units pulled off daring counterattacks against the Federation's limited offensive. They successfully fought off their opponents and even received support from the paramilitary forces of the Council for Self-Government while also barely suffering any losses in the process.

  In addition, it should be noted that due to the imperial gesture of offering support to both the council and civilians, the cooperation between the Empire and the Council for Self-Government developed into what could properly be described as an alliance in both name and reality.

  As a result, the Imperial Army's success, which included organizing a powerful unit and pushing back the enemy line in places, allowed the Empire to proudly declare a military victory.

  Meanwhile, the Federation Army endured losses that were large but still within the realm of the permissible and had acquired the strategic intelligence it had so desperately wanted.

  Military staff confronted the party leadership with the facts that the speculated relationship between the Empire and the Council for Self-Government was stimulating an independence movement and that the strikingly rampant appearances of separatists were more serious than anyone had imagined.

  On this point it was said that a cheer went up in the Federation Army General Staff because they could finally feed the bitter medicine of reality to the politburo.

  The reality of the battlefield had shattered the lens of ideology.

  It was noteworthy that by managing to confront the party leadership with the military reality without suffering a critical defeat, the Fed
eration Army and Commissariat for Internal Affairs achieved---at least domestically---a major strategic victory.

  And in the end, expeditionary mages dispatched from the Commonwealth were able to achieve modest results in the battle. Effectively nothing more than a few prisoners and a smattering of military successes.

  That said, the political convenience of the victory couldn't be overstated.

  Victory was accompanied by commendation, and the efforts of Lieutenant Colonel Drake and his marine mages were highly praised by all.

  But of course, that became clear only after the fact.

  CONTEMPORARY MOSKVA

  At the time, many in the Federation clamored that the latest battle was "a disaster," and very few would have mocked those critics as idiots who understand nothing.

  As one of those few exceptions, Commissar Loria of the Commissariat for Internal Affairs could describe the ignorance of the people around him only as perfect nonsense. For that reason, he was in an awful mood.

  "From a purely military perspective, the recon-in-force was a major failure. One of the gravest issues facing our army in small-scale combat is our tactical inferiority, and it must be addressed."

  This statement was a response to the criticism, Didn't we lose by agreeing to your plan?

  There was nothing that irritated him more than being snapped at by people who couldn't comprehend simple, clear results, but his voice was terribly calm.

  "...Still, the political problem we're facing is more important. The fact that we've grasped its scope now justifies the cost of the last battle."

  Loria reemphasized that the entire reason they deployed the soldiers in the first place was to get a handle on the political situation.

  He asked for understanding from the secretariat, the politburo, and every other government organ time and again to the point of insistence that the operation was for getting a handle on the political situation. During this struggle, the General Staff eagerly supported his efforts and they carried out a joint plan to convince everyone.

  If, after all that, there were still fools trying to score a victory in internal politics, thinking that now was their chance to strike at Loria and the military leadership...Loria felt that perhaps the only option he had left was to ready some holes for them.

  Nonetheless, he earnestly delivered his counterclaim without flinching, at least on the outside.

  Fishing required patience---because just like love, it was about tactics.

  On this point, Loria knew that waiting patiently would bring him the greatest success. He learned that while bargaining for love with a fairy.

  "And what is that political matter that we must focus on? It's simple. Comrades, the Empire's promise of independence is becoming a potent poison for the Federation."

  Those words were casually left to hang in the meeting room, but they bore an incredibly grave significance.

  The wise ones who understood nodded silently, while the clueless who assumed Loria was simply trying to draw attention away from his failure found it difficult to hide their smirks.

  It was easy to discern the mocking atmosphere.

  Ahhh, your level of intelligence really shows on your face..., thought Loria, fighting the urge to grimace...

  "The dream of ethnic self-determination the imperials are lauding has taken effect... We have no choice but to conclude that the relationship between the separatists and the Imperial Army is stronger than we imagined."

  ...But Loria still had to carry on with his report, because that was his job.

  The counterattack the Federation Army encountered was more tenacious than expected. The armed groups vaguely referred to as "local people" put up a fierce level of resistance that most assumed would normally be reserved for invaders.

  Summing up the reports of their embedded observers made the situation all too clear. Even near the front lines, trust in the Federation Army was depressingly low. Hostility against their soldiers was widespread.

  "As you all know already, the Imperial Army seems to have regained their freedom of movement, but we've discovered even worse news."

  They had already known that separatist ethnic minority groups were keeping the peace in the occupied territories. But their latest revelation was more shocking.

  What shook the core of the Federation's Communist Party was the fact that the Imperial Army had built such a trusting relationship with the separatists that it trusted them to handle peacekeeping duties.

  The defeat the Federation had suffered at the very beginning of the war had been alarming. Allowing the Imperial Army to engage in the mobile warfare they favored so much would be a nightmare. Now that the Empire didn't have to worry about pacifying a massive swath of territory, wouldn't that free up their forces to do just that? And they wouldn't even have to worry about partisans harassing them, either?

  If this wasn't a terrifying prospect, then what was?

  "The political officers are being vague, so we don't have the full picture, but...," Loria said, laying down words that chilled the entire room, "...we have apparently witnessed cases where the Imperial Army and regional separatists have created a united front."

  A united front---in other words, fighting together side by side.

  But the meaning wasn't as simple as the words might imply.

  Trust and confidence were weighty things indeed. Anyone living through this tumultuous period would never mistake the significance of them.

  It wouldn't be possible for a united front to exist without the soldiers involved having supreme confidence in allowing armed, combat-experienced foreigners to fight by their side on the battlefield. Their actions declared loudly how deeply that trust ran.

  "...We should probably be happy we've grasped the true enemy situation. Now we can be sure that we shouldn't expect much cooperation from our comrades in the occupied territories."

  "May I ask a question? As far as I can tell, comrade, you seem to be saying that the separatists have defeated the party. To be frank, can't we root them out from the shadows?"

  In terms of following party doctrine, that was a fine suggestion, thought Loria with an inward wince.

  Unfortunately, that sort of textbook answer has no meaning when held up against the reality of the battlefield. It made him exceedingly miserable to see people forgetting that the real world required compromise.

  But the Federation ideology wasn't so vulnerable that it couldn't survive direct confrontation. Which was why Loria nodded dramatically. "To get straight to the point, I don't think it's impossible. Listen," he said in an utterly calm voice. "If we have proper support, have the appropriate personnel committed, and have a solid commander in charge, there should be no problem. In other words, we can say that it shall be humans who blaze the trail to the future." Then Loria suddenly said, "Oh," as if he remembered something, and presented an invitation. "How about it, comrade? It'd be great if you would drive this home for the masses."

  "M-me, comrade?"

  "The reports from the field are confused. I need someone I can trust reporting in. If you feel strongly about this issue, I'd like to ask you to do it." Using the threat of possibly sending someone into the field, Loria smiled kindly.

  He found a great deal of satisfaction in smacking down this guy who fancied himself enough of a bystander that he could comment about whatever he liked on the fierce guerrilla war.

  "Wait a minute, Comrade Loria."

  Sadly, games always ended just as they were getting fun.

  "Do you mean to say that the flow of intelligence is unstable? That even the Commissariat for Internal Affairs's intelligence network is being suppressed?"

  There was only one person whom Loria needed to immediately straighten up for.

  "Yes, Comrade General Secretary. It's as you say," he affirmed instantaneously.

  "...I'm well aware that those reactionaries, the separatists, despise us." The speaker inquired in an unexpectedly intellectual-sounding tone, "But why to this extent?"

 
; He was asking why the Communist Party was hated.

  That's a difficult question to answer head-on, from a political perspective. Loria mentally grimaced.

  "Yes, it's truly as you say. I'm fairly certain we've made plenty of concessions on racial policy. Why are they so welcoming to the invaders?"

  "Could it be that the capitalist and imperialist propaganda is that effective?"

  It was laughable how the blind followers seemed unsure even as they agreed. If they didn't understand the reason, they were truly useless.

  Well, it was worth considering that the General Secretary had probably come down on them too hard for inconvenient reports in the past.

  Well, whatever. Loria switched gears.

  If they wanted to know, he would just have to tell them.

  Holding back a wry grin, he held up a hand and said, "If I may add something..." before solemnly intoning, "nationalism isn't logical."

  Loria was familiar with the role emotions played as someone who often took advantage of them himself. When emotions were involved, it wasn't logic or realism that mattered but romanticism---romanticism was everything.

  They couldn't afford to laugh it off as mere fiction anymore.

  The official Communist position that ethnicity was a distraction was nothing but empty words in the face of various ethnic groups' dreams of independence.

  "Comrade Loria?"

  "Aren't we making use of it all the time?"

  A shared cause, protecting the people---in other words, nationalism.

  It was due to that sympathy that the Federation Army could use those who were once sent to the lageri2 as soldiers despite their lack of conviction.

  "Make the cause ethnicity, wave the banner of ethnicity, sing the songs of ethnicity in the ethnicity's language; it's all utterly commonplace, but the results are tremendous."

  To Loria, who had promoted such movements before, the potential was astounding.

  The troops who had been sourced from the lageri, those who were expected to betray the Federation Army at the first opportunity, actually had a startlingly low defection ratio and fought hard.

  To be honest, they were fine patriots.

  These soldiers took up arms to protect their motherland as their patriotic hearts demanded! It wasn't rare for former lageri residents to swear loyalty to the Federation Communist Party, even if only as a formality.